exercise bench

please don’t ever laugh at someone at the gym who’s lifting very little amounts of weight, or running only a little bit on the treadmill. don’t make fun of someone for putting a machine at the lowest weight or only bench pressing the bar (it’s already 45 lbs on its own). don’t laugh at the people who are just starting out or who physically can’t do too much weights or running or pull ups or squats or whatever. Everyone has to start somewhere

Worth the Pain

A/N : Finale of Rotation. Catch parts 1-3 here:
Another Man’s Treasure // Mind on a Mission // Take the Lead

This series in its entirety is dedicated to @alrightpetal because without her, there would be no vulnerable, flawed Harry. 

Thank you to all who have enjoyed and provided me with your thoughts. I hope this lives up to your expectations. 

xx


The earth’s actually flat and Harry must have fallen off of it. He was quite clumsy—you had scars from the countless occasions he couldn’t navigate around his own feet and brought you down with him—so him managing to fall off the edge of the earth wasn’t a stretch of the imagination.

At least he better be floating through deep space, otherwise there was no reason your texts and calls should have gone unanswered the last three days. No other reason you would accept, anyway.

When you’d woken up, brain foggy and mouth dry, you couldn’t remember how you’d gotten home, let alone anything that had actually happened. It wasn’t until you reached for your phone—after growing accustomed the dull ache in your skull—and saw the Bukowski poem that you remembered what happened. And you’d laid in bed for a while, trying to figure out how to move forward. Should you text Harry? Call him? Read into the fact that his last poem was much less explicit than the previous and maybe it meant he was trying to tell you something?

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Two of the fittest women on Earth, Camille Leblanc-Bazinet and Kristan Clever, get in a bench-press workout at the 2015 Reebok Athlete Summit.

anonymous asked:

you did it with Ryan, and kind of mentioned it with the one about them being kids on Los santos at the same time but could you consider team nice dynamite being a thing before the fahc?

What a horrifying catastrophe. Not so much terrifying rumour as neon warning sign; the epitome of collateral damage, less interested in taking over the world than they are burning it to the ground.

They met when they were almost painfully young, when Gavin comes all the way to America to work with a crew only to find that they’d misrepresented themselves. Had sold him on a single job, with the possibility of discussing more work, when in reality they had no intention off letting him go. It’s a big gang, nasty, and while they covert his talents they clearly think Gavin is otherwise more or less harmless; quick and clever but easily cowed. There’s an argument, some unfortunate unpleasantness, then a week or two of waiting for some violent action, some futile stand. When it doesn’t come they know they’ve got him, crew leaders more smarmy and self-satisfied than ever as Gavin slinks about the base with drooping shoulders and a permanent guard.

Michael had been working with the crew, not really a full member yet – they were stringing him along, making him prove himself over and over and he wasn’t exactly rushing the process along. He’d gotten involved without knowing enough about them, young and eager to make his mark, only realising his predicament when it was too late to just walk away. It’s not the way things are done with this kind of crew, and Michael resigns himself to hunting for someone bigger and badder to align with or risk catching a bullet to the back of the head.

Michael didn’t know what was happening with the British kid until the fallout, and honestly he didn’t really care. Made him respect the crew less, made him more eager than ever before to trade up and get gone, but he’s no one’s hero and anyone dumb enough to take an offer from Los Santos at face value, swallow the promise of some kind of utopian partnership from strangers across the sea, deserves what they get. The fact that Gavin seemed interesting, weird and bright and funny before the carpet was pulled out from under him definitely doesn’t haunt Michael’s thoughts. Doesn’t make him consider breaking them both out – he can’t go carrying deadweight after all, and anyone who crumbles this quickly will never be an asset. It’s just sad really, kind of pathetic, and Michael does his level best to stay away from him. Doesn’t want to watch Gavin shrink into an obedient shadow, or worse, make a friend only to abandon him in this hellhole when the opportunity to leave finally presents itself.

What he failed to anticipate was the fact that Gavin doesn’t fold like a house of cards, doesn’t resign himself to a new life or kill himself trying to get away. He doesn’t even make a quiet escape, slip out in the dead of night when even his guards are asleep, oh no. This, it turns out, would be America’s first taste of Gavin’s furious wrath, and they couldn’t have been less prepared.

Having kept himself apart Michael was the only one who noticed it happening, the only one who recognised the source of the slow destabilisation of the crew, the surprising origin of countless petty fights and ever growing tempers. He watches Gavin’s idle chatter seep out, tracks the path of poisonous rumours as they spread throughout the crew, and says nothing. Gavin turns harmless words into knives, bows his head to hide a vicious smirk as he talks the crew into gutting itself and Michael, who tried so hard not to look, suddenly can’t look away.

Bringing down the leaders doesn’t take all that much, in the end; when there’s nothing connecting them but violence and power there is no true loyalty, they’re each as paranoid and selfish as each other and all too willing to believe the others might plot against them. It was terrifying, morbidly beautiful, but not quite enough. Not when they’re armed and Gavin isn’t, free when Gavin isn’t, not when eventually they’re going to put two and two together and maybe Gavin is prepared to go down with this ship, die knowing they cannot recover from what he made them do, but Michael’s not done yet. More than ready to stop sitting on the bench, to exercise his itchy trigger finger, not quite prepared for the most interesting thing thats ever happened to him to end so soon.

It’s not even that difficult, really, not with the whole crew fractured and dwindling, when everyone’s too busy pointing fingers at each other to look for threat from the distant outsider. Michael’s let them think little of him for far too long for them to worry about him now, and it’s the last mistake they’ll ever make. What Gavin ruined Michael destroys, neatly foreshadowing the future of their partnership.

The two stay together even once they leave, recognise each other for what they are, kindred souls, matching violence in their smiles, chaos in their blood. The flame and the gasoline, inseparable once combined, delighting in devastation. The reckless carelessness of youth combined with near heartless violence results in a dangerous kind of confidence, flippant and self absorbed, interested in nothing outside their own amusement, refusing to accept the possibility of any line they shouldn’t cross, any difficulty they cannot overcome. What could stop them now that they’re together? What could anyone do but get out of their way? Gavin talks them into fortunes, Michael tears them out of trouble and they both revel in the mayhem they leave in their wake. Relish the ability to do whatever they like whenever they like with no unwanted master pulling their strings.

Not that no one is interested; their reputation precedes them and everyone from big crews to wanna-be somebodies have recognised their potential. Bar some serious behavioural issues they’re basically the dream team if anyone could keep them. Clever, violent, entirely amoral and quick on their feet, appealingly loyal and young enough that they should have been easy to manage if only they could be convinced to care about anything outside of each other, outside of playing and performing and planning the next wild adventure.

It almost shakes them apart, sometimes, that need to do something drastic. Something grand and unforgivable, cataclysmic. Chasing after any flashy thing that catches their attention, forever wanting bigger and more thrilling but lacking any real direction. It has them at each others throats as often as not but they always pull it together in the end, unshakable affection winning out over frustration every damn time, and woe to any who tried to capitalise on their momentary troubles. Who try to pull one away, encourage the rift, who think this priceless opportunity rather than a minor bump in the road.

The more harmless opportunists, the ones who just try to sell their own grandeur, to recruit Michael and Gavin, or worse, one or the other are merely jeered out of the room, left confused and humiliated but still whole. Those who try to contain them, restrain them, pull them back to some degree of responsibility for their actions and force them into deals they have no interest in complying with are simply torn apart. Left as warning, as promise, a reminder that for all their inexperience, their aimless wandering and lack of allies, Michael and Gavin are the furthest thing from harmless.

It’s not that they’d never work with another crew, theres something to be said for a steady home, for someone else to watch your back, to plan your attacks, its just that they have a hard time trusting anyone else. A hard time believing that joining a crew won’t land them right back where they started, that any boss would truly understand that loyalty can’t be taken by force, that allegiance needn’t look like subservience.

So when the infamous Ramsey comes along and offers them a job they turn up their noses, bare their teeth and laugh in his face. When he offers again they try to disappear, ghost away like they have countless times before. When he tracks them down regardless they take out one of his safe-houses in explosive retribution. He comes back and they taunt him, sharp words and defensive sneers. Still again he returns, to threats, to violence, to childish graffiti and a layer of furious distrust coating possessive fear. They push and shove and snap and snarl and do everything in their power to chase him away and every time they think they’ve managed he turns up again, unnervingly mild mannered and relentlessly insistent. He offers and is met with complete disbelief, offers and is met with a million and one questions, he offers and somehow winds up in a negotiation that costs him his car and all the cash in his wallet with nothing in return. Geoff offers more than a job, offers a home, a family, a surprising tolerance for their many quirks; he lays all his cards on the table and lets them try to shred him apart, faintly amused but never condescending. He offers and offers and offers but never takes, never forces, never even alludes to the fact that he could, the way his position of power is so disproportionately greater than theirs. Geoff offers, and in the end they say yes.

the new workout plan

Title: The New Workout Plan
Pairing: Lance Tucker (The Bronze)/OFC (named)
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Lots of smug Lance, smut, just the usual
A/N: Sorry it took me so long; I was planning on getting this done WAY earlier, but I was struggling, and I had to work at my second job this morning. Anyway, this one is for @paodelsan, I hope you enjoy it!

Originally posted by buckypupbarnes

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Capricorn

Capricorn is not cold, Capricorn is determined. Capricorn likes success. Capricorn likes recognition. Determination, success, and recognition does not equate to solely office work. That is a weird, unrealistic stereotype that has been societally driven into our heads.

My Capricorn aunt always wanted to be a mother. Now she is. She does daycare and gets to spend extra time with them. She helps with their school functions. She is a good mom, and we all know it.

My Capricorn roommate has always enjoyed exercising. She used to be a runner and got into lifting in college. She majors in exercise science. She benches over 160 lbs. She has had various gym/ etc. internships. She is great at working out and helping others exercise, and we all know it.

My Capricorn friend is passionate about food disparity. She took it upon herself to go into the city each summer and get an internship working with low socioeconomic status groups in food deserts. She made her own major that integrates food-mapping with politics, and so on. She is motivational and making a difference in this field, and we all know it.