#Golf Towel Bulk

[willkdawson]

Golf - Bulk Cotton

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[fashion230mania]

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[agnes-come-back-challenge]

Who wants a full comparison of episodes 1, 25, and 111 of Welcome to Night Vale? Because I love comparing these episodes and also I have no impulse control. Let’s go

(Spoilers up to episode 111, obviously. Also, I’ll bold every other segment so that it’s easier to tell which ones I’m comparing)

((This is gonna be an incredibly long post. I’m very sorry))

A friendly desert community, where the sun is hot, the moon is beautiful, and mysterious lights pass overhead while we all pretend to sleep. Welcome to Night Vale. (1)

A friendly desert community, where the sun is still hot, the moon still beautiful, and mysterious lights still pass overhead while we all pretend to sleep. Welcome to Night Vale. (25)

A friendly desert community, where the sun is hot, the moon is beautiful, and mysterious lights pass overhead, while we lay open eyed, watching it all. Welcome to Night Vale. (111)

Hello listeners. To start things off, I’ve been asked to read this brief notice. The City Council announces the opening of a new Dog Park at the corner of Earl and Summerset, near the Ralphs. They would like to remind everyone that dogs are not allowed in the Dog Park. People are not allowed in the Dog Park. It is possible you will see hooded figures in the Dog Park. do not approach them. Do not approach the Dog Park. The fence is electrified and highly dangerous. Try not to look at the Dog Park and especially do not look for any period of time at the hooded figures. The Dog Park will not harm you. (1)

One single year since two major events in our town’s history. First, the opening of our lovely, state-of-the-art Dog Park, which is forbidden, and which I will not mention again. (25)

The City Council reiterated for the 1,874th consecutive day that the Dog Park is off limits for both dogs and humans. The fence is electrified and highly dangerous etc. Hooded figures and all that. Since its construction we have shied from and feared the Dog Park. The Dog Park is neither a park nor for dogs, and so what does it even mean to call it a dog park? Why do we use language that means one thing to describe something that is entirely else? I don’t know what the word is for that place the City Council calls the dog park, but I do know it’s time to start searching for that word, and once found, to use it boldly. (111)

And now the news. Old Woman Josie, out near the car lot, says the Angels revealed themselves to her. Said they were ten feet tall, radiant, one of them was black. Said they helped her with various household chores. One of them changed a light bulb for her, the porch light. She’s offering to sell the old light bulb, which has been touched by an angel (it was the black angel, if that sweetens the pot for anyone). If you’re interested, contact Old Woman Josie. She’s out near the car lot. (1)

[none] (25)

The angels, who I can now say are angels, and will say are angels, because they are angels, held a memorial for Old Woman Josie in her house. Everyone in town came, overcome with a feeling that finally they could look at these beings and recognize them for what they were. Even the City Council attended the memorial, but refused to make eye contact with anyone. Of course, this positive, concrete identification only led to more mysteries, for if these are angels, then where did they come from? And what does that mean for us? Even now we find that we cannot voice these questions. Not because we are not allowed. But because we cannot find the words to ask. Instead we ate cake and drank coffee in the living room of Old Woman Josie, which was once just that, a place she lived. Now it is only a room. One by one, we laid our hand on the Angels’ hands, and in that moment of contact each of us, in turn, found ourselves weeping. As the party wound down, we all heard a soft pop outside. It was the lightbulb on Old Woman Josie’s porch, burning out. (111)

A new man came in to town today. Who is he? What does he want from us? Why his perfect and beautiful haircut? Why his perfect and beautiful coat? He says he is a scientist. Well, we have all been scientists at one point or another in our lives. But why now? Why here? And just what does he plan to do with all those beakers and humming electrical instruments in that lab he’s renting, the one next to Big Rico’s Pizza. No one does a slice, like Big Rico. No one. (1)

Second, and more important, it is one year since the arrival in Night Vale of our most beloved and singular citizen. (25)

A man who I know very well came into my house today, which is also his house. He laid his head, with its perfect and beautiful hair, upon my shoulder, and crossed his arms over his perfect and beautiful lab coat. I embraced him. We are creatures of touch, humans, and we retrieve so much meaning and happiness from contact. “I have become too complacent,” he said. “When I came here, I understood this town as scientifically fascinating. And then, gradually, it became my day to day life. I could no longer see the strangeness, but only my home.” “We are all guilty of that,” I said. “But I am a scientist,” he said.“Well,” I said. “We have all been scientists at one point or another in our lives.” (111)

Just a reminder to all the parents out there. Let’s talk about safety when taking your children out to play in the scrub lands and the sand wastes. You need to give them plenty of water, make sure there’s a shade tree in the area, and keep an eye on the helicopter colors. Are the unmarked helicopters circling the area black? Probably World Government, not a good area for play that day. Are they blue? That’s the Sheriff’s Secret Police, they’ll keep a good eye on your kids, and hardly ever take one. Are they painted with complex murals depicting birds of prey diving? No one knows what those helicopters are, or what they want. Do not play in the area. Return to your home and lock the doors until a Sheriff’s Secret Policeman leaves a carnation on your porch to indicate that the danger has passed. Cover your ears to blot out the screams. Also, remember: Gatorade is basically soda, so give your kids plain old water and maybe some orange slices when they play. (1)

Parents: Let’s talk about safety when taking your children to play out in the scrub lands and the sand wastes. All children in Night Vale are missing this week, so there’s no current safety issues. Hope we find them! (25)

Just a reminder to all the parents out there. Let’s talk about safety when taking your children out to play in the scrub lands and the sand wastes. You need to give them plenty of water, make sure there’s a shade tree in the area, and keep an eye on the helicopter colors. I asked my best friend and brother, Steve, to talk me through which helicopters belong to which organizations. Obviously the black helicopters belong to the World Government, although I had not realized, until Steve laid it out for me, how closely they are also associated with the Lizard People. The blue ones are Sheriff’s Secret Police, the pink ones are the new Double Secret Police, and the ones painted with complex murals depicting birds of prey diving? Well not even Steve knows what those helicopters are, nor what they want. On Steve’s chart, those are just labeled with the word RUN and then a few hundred exclamation points. (111)

A commercial airliner flying through local airspace disappeared today, only to reappear in the Night Vale Elementary gymnasium during basketball practice, disrupting practice quite badly. The jet roared through the small gym for only a fraction of a second, and before it could strike any players or structure, it vanished again, this time apparently for good. There is no word yet on if or how this will affect the Night Vale Mountain Lion’s game schedule, and also if this could perhaps be the work of their bitter rivals, the Desert Bluffs Cacti. Desert Bluffs is always trying to show us up through fancier uniforms, better pre-game snacks, and quite possibly by transporting a commercial jet into our gymnasium, delaying practice for several minutes at least. For shame, Desert Bluffs. For shame. (1)

In other news, a commercial airliner appeared today inside the home of surprised Night Vale citizen Becky Canterbury, who said she was about to get in the shower when it roared down her hallway and then disappeared, as suddenly as it had arrived. There is no conclusive evidence that this is the same airliner last seen in the Night Vale Elementary gym one year ago, but we have jumped to that conclusion and will defend it against all naysayers, violently and without mercy. Our truths may or may not be true, but they are ours, and we stand by them, even as the experts and skeptics hold aloft clipboards and intone to us about snow and mountains. Becky added that she would like to take that shower now, and that she has no idea how we managed to arrive for an interview mere seconds after the incident occurred. “My doors are locked.” she said. “My windows too. I’ve had my eyes shut for years. How did you get in here?” (25)

A commercial airliner flying through local airspace disappeared today, only to reappear at the fifth hole of the Sagebrook Pines Private Golf Club and Bulk Supplier. This disrupted all golf activities badly, as well as scaring a family of four who were perusing bulk paper towels offered at a discount price in a nearby sandtrap. I feel, for the first time, that I can articulate that this airliner had flown into some other universe, those divisions being particularly thin here in our quaint little community. This also is the cause of things like dead relatives occasionally joining us for breakfast, or the shimmering skyscrapers and crowded cities that appear for flashing moments in the sky. Of course, it also could be the handywork of the East Night Vale Cacti, the basketball team at the new East Night Vale Elementary School. Those scamps are always pulling pranks. Could they transport a large plane through multiple universes? Who am I to say? But probably yes. For shame, East Night Vale. For shame. (111)

The local chapter of the NRA is selling bumper stickers as part of their fundraising week. They sent the station one to get some publicity, and we’re here to serve the community, so I’m happy to let you all know about it. The stickers are made from good, sturdy vinyl, and they read: “Guns don't kill people. It's impossible to be killed by a gun. We are all invincible to bullets and it's a miracle.” Stand outside of your front door and shout “NRA” to order one. (1)

The local chapter of the NRA has begun market testing some possible new slogans. These include: “Guns don't kill people. Blood loss and organ damage does.” “Guns don't kill people. People kill guns.” “A list of things that kill people: 1. Conceivably anything. 2. Not guns.” “Guns don't kill people. We are all immortal souls living temporarily in shelters of earth and meat.” and “If you say guns kill people one more time I will shoot you with a gun and you will, coincidentally, die.” To vote on the new slogan, simply fire a gun at the object or person that best represents your choice. (25)

The local chapter of the NRA is selling bumper stickers as part of their fundraising week. The stickers are made from good, sturdy vinyl and they read “We genuinely do not value human life.” Cute! (111)

Carlos and his team of scientists warn that one of the houses in the new development of Desert Creek, out back of the elementary school, doesn’t actually exist. “It seems like it exists,” explained Carlos and his perfect hair. “Like it’s just right there when you look at it, and it’s between two other identical houses so it would make more sense for it to be there than not” But, he says, they have done experiments and the house is definitely not there. At news time, the scientists are standing in a group on the sidewalk in front of the nonexistent house, daring each other to go knock on the door. (1)

Scientists, and science in general, would like to remind you that some things exist and some things do not. Usually, you can apply the simple test of seeing if it is there. If it is there, it exists. If not, it probably doesn’t, but it might just be currently existing somewhere else. Existence is tricky, the scientists say. Research shows this. For instance, there is that house in the housing development of Desert Creek out back of the elementary school, the house that doesn’t exist. It seems like it exists. Like it’s just right there when you look at it, and it’s between two other identical houses so it would make more sense for it to be there than not. But it does not exist. They have proved this with science. The scientists still haven’t gotten up the nerve to ring the doorbell and find out what happens. Do you want to do it? They’ll pay you five dollars if you do. Just ring it once ok. We’ll be watching from back here. You’ll probably be fine. (25)

Carlos and his scientists, like Luisa and Nilanjana, are renewing their investigation into the house in the development of Desert Creek, out back of the elementary school. The house that doesn’t actually exist. “It seems like it exists,” muttered Carlos. “Like it’s just right there when you look at it, and it’s between two other identical houses so it would make more sense for it to be there than not.” But he says, it is actually a doorway to another world. A world he himself was once stuck in for a year. There seem to be secrets about that year he is keeping to himself. Maybe someday we will learn what they are. (111)

Lights, seen in the sky above the Arby’s. Not the glowing sign of Arby’s. Something higher and beyond that. We know the difference. We’ve caught on to their game. We understand the lights above Arby’s game. Invaders from another world. Ladies and gentlemen the future is here. And it’s about a hundred feet above the Arby’s. (1)

But here, Carlos and I sat on the trunk of that car, his car, looking together at the lights up in the sky above the Arby’s. They were beautiful in the hushed twilight, shimmering in a night sky already coming alive with bits of the universe. [...] We understand the lights. We understand the lights above the Arby’s. We understand so much. But the sky behind those lights, mostly void, partially stars, that sky reminds us: we don’t understand even more. (25)

Lights, seen in the sky above the Arby’s. Not the glowing sign of Arby’s. Something higher and beyond that. One night, years ago, two people, scared and vulnerable and loving and ready, came together for a quiet moment under that sky. And I pretended at the time to understand the lights. But a big part of recognizing the world for what it is, is recognizing when you have no idea. Invaders from another world? Harbingers of future terror? A fragment of another universe, fading into our own above reasonably priced lunch meat? Maybe any. Maybe all. Maybe none. But here is what I do know. The lights are, among other things, a part of my memory, and a part of my marriage, and a part of my love. They are a piece of my past, and I don’t need to understand them to understand that. Ladies and gentlemen the past is here. And it’s about a hundred feet above the Arby’s. (111)

The City Council would like to remind you about the tiered heavens, and the hierarchy of angels. The reminder is that you should not know anything about this. The structure of heaven and the angelic organizational chart are privileged information, known only to City Council members on a need to know basis. Please to do not speak to or acknowledge any angels that you may come across while shopping at the Ralphs or at the Desert Flower Bowling Alley and Arcade Fun Complex. They only tell lies, and do not exist. Report all angels sightings to the City Council for treatment. (1)

The City Council would like to remind you about the tiered heavens, and the hierarchy of angels. The reminder is that you still should not know anything about this. The structure of heaven and the angelic organizational chart are still privileged information. Also, angels aren’t real. “I really get tired of having to say this,” a City Council representative said to a group of disgruntled angels. “Angels aren’t real. They just aren’t.” The angels became unruly and were dispersed by a thunderclap from heaven. (25)

The City Council would like to remind you about the tiered heavens and the hierarchy of angels. The reminder is the Council is grumpy that all of this is not forbidden knowledge, but due to the new laws, they are required to inform you that the angels have made all of that information available. Stop by the house where the angels live if you want to pick up a free packet outlining exactly how all of that is organized. While the packet itself is free, it is likely the angels will ask to borrow five dollars. They tend to do that. (111)

Speaking of the Desert Flower Bowling Alley and Arcade Fun Complex, its owner, Teddy Williams, reports that he has found the entrance to a vast, underground city in the pin retrieval area of lane 5. He said he has not yet ventured into it, merely peered down at its strange spires and broad avenues. He also reports voices of a distant crowd in the depths of that subterranean metropolis. Apparently the entrance was discovered when a bowling ball accidentally rolled into it, clattering down to the city below with sounds that echoed for miles across the impossibly huge cavern. So, you know, whatever population that city has, they know about us now and we might be hearing from them very soon. (1)

Word is in about a disturbance at the Desert Flower Bowling Alley and Arcade Fun Complex. There has been the sound of chanting and machinery from under the pin retrieval area of lane five, and Teddy Williams has changed all the bowlers’ names on the electronic scorecards to “THEY ARE HERE”. This is causing some confusion and has completely ruined Jeremy Godfrey's 50th birthday party, which had rented out a few lanes for the afternoon. Jeremy was last seen drinking a light beer out of a plastic cup, shaking his head sadly as he swished the liquid around and looking out the window at the sky, mostly void, partially stars. Teddy Williams was last seen howling, commanding his militia to surround the pin retrieval area and prepare for an attack. (25)

Over at the Desert Flower Bowling Alley and Arcade Fun Complex, Teddy Williams, its owner, reported the startling news that there is nothing under the pin retrieval area of lane 5. As you may remember, there has been a tiny city of warlike people under the bowling alley for several years now, which has caused some trouble, although not a lot of trouble, because they were very tiny people. But now there is just a hole in the earth under the pin retrieval area, an empty space containing only my own memories of a night that someone I loved almost died before I had a chance to truly love him. So good riddance to whatever that town was. (111)

Carlos, perfect and beautiful, came into our studios during the break earlier but declined to stay for an interview. He had some sort of blinking box in his hand covered with wires and tubes. Said he was testing the place for materials. I don’t know what materials he meant, but that box sure whistled and beeped a lot. When he put it close to the microphone, it sounded like, well, like a bunch of baby birds had just woken up. Really went crazy. Carlos looked nervous. I’ve never seen that kind of look on someone with that strong of a jaw. He left in a hurry. Told us to evacuate the building, but then, who would be here to talk sweetly to all of you out there. (1)

I arrived at the parking lot to find Carlos, perched on the trunk of his car in flannel and jeans, his perfect hair mussed, his perfect teeth hidden. “What is it?” I said. “What danger are we in? What mystery needs to be explored?” He shook his head. “Nothing,” he said. “After everything that happened...I just wanted to see you.” My heart leapt. My heart soared. My heart, metaphorically, performed a number of aerial activities, and, literally, it began beat hard. (25)

Carlos, perfect and beautiful, came into our studios during the break earlier, and we ate lunch together out of Tupperwares. He had some sort of blinking box in his hand covered with wires and tubes. When he put it close to the microphone, it sounded like, well, like a bunch of baby birds had just woken up. Really went crazy. He asked if I remembered it. He had brought it by on the first day we had met. He had told me that it tested for materials, but he wasn’t actually sure what materials it tested for. He had just wanted an excuse to come by and talk to me. “Anyway,” he said, “I thought it was a nice memento. Back when we were fumbling awkwardly toward this life we share.” “But,” he added, “it’s a real instrument that is detecting some actual materials of some kind, so there is a good chance that everything about this studio is deeply dangerous. Please be careful.” (111)

Settling in to be another clear and pretty evening here in Night Vale. I hope all of you out there have someone to sleep through it with, or at least good memories of when you did. Good night, listeners. Good night. (1)

We understand the lights. We understand the lights above the Arby’s. We understand so much. But the sky behind those lights, mostly void, partially stars, that sky reminds us: we don’t understand even more. Good night, Night Vale. Good night. (25)

Settling in to be another clear and pretty evening here in Night Vale, this weird, weird town. I hope all of you out there have someone to sleep through it with. I know I do. Good night, listeners. Good night. (111)

[twinwatersrealestate]

Twin Waters real estate

Twin Waters is a coastal suburb of Maroochydore on the Sunshine Coast of Queensland , Australia. Twin Waters had a population of just over 2,700 people. Twin Waters is the southernmost suburb of the North Shore and is a boutique residential community on a picturesque canal system. Surrounded by the waters of the Pacific Ocean, the Maroochydore River and the salt water canals, Twin Waters is a quiet paradise close to the middle of Maroochydore and the Sunshine Coast airport. Residents of Twin Waters will enjoy a peaceful environment, including parks and walkways, the Maroochy River Conservation Area, fishing or boating on nearby rivers, golfing at the Twin Waters Golf Club or relaxing on the nearby beach. Twin Waters is bounded to the south by the Marooch River and to the south by the Coral Sea. The bulk of the river frontage is conserved within the Maroochy River Conservation Park, which covers more than 150 hectares and is managed primarily for the conservation of nature. Due to the L-shape of the suburbs, there are three distinct areas: northwest, southwest and southeast. The south-eastern part of the suburb is mainly occupied by the conservation park and the Twin Waters Resort - with its own lagoon. The northwest is occupied by the Twin Waters Golf Course, which has some residential development. The south-west has its own lagoon connected to the Maroochy River and is a mixture of residential development and a conservation park along the waterfront. Daydream as you float in warm water for countless hours, visit a day's spa or book a blissful massage to top off a wonderful day. You can play your golf game at the globally known Twin Waters Golf Club in the vicinity. And if you want a little more action, the excitement of the whole Sunshine Coast region is within easy reach, or you can place your towel on nearby Mudjimba Beach, Marcoola and Coolum Beach. Twin Waters real estate Our Social Pages: facebook youtube instagram

[mysania]

Golf

This write-up explains the fundamental golf tools needed for playing a typical round of golf. It is intended to assist the newbie golf player by enlightening them concerning correct golf tools to ensure that they might enter into a round of golf with confidence from knowing they are properly equipped to play the game. Lets start with the a lot more obvious golf equipment.

Golf Clubs You are not mosting likely to do much golfing with out a collection of golf clubs. Newbie golf players need to start with a set of golf clubs for novices or starter golf clubs. These golf club sets include one driver and fairway wood, 7 via 9 irons, a pitching wedge, sand wedge and also putter. This down sized collection is all the newbie golf enthusiast needs. As your skill develops over time, so will certainly the demand for better golf tools. When it comes to golf clubs for beginners, stay away from the game renovation clubs. This is fantastic innovation as well as is proven to function, nonetheless if you do not find out how to hit the ball square as well as perform appropriate golf swing auto mechanics, you will only come to be based on this innovation. Maintain it straightforward and also maintain it fundamental when it involves golf clubs and golf tools, especially when you are simply starting.

Golf Balls This can be complicated for numerous golf enthusiasts and also exactly how to pick the appropriate golf spheres depends partly from experience. There are various kinds of golf spheres on the marketplace all having their own distinct attributes to enhance round flight. Do not obtain hung up on this, buy the least pricey golf balls and purchase in bulk or by the loads. There is no such thing as a golf sphere that will help you learn just how to properly swing a golf club and also until you obtain that right you are possibly mosting likely to be shedding a great deal of golf balls. Do on your own a favor, buy in bulk as well as buy economical, you will save money in the long run.

Golf Tees The very same makes an application for golf tees, get low-cost and also the very best way to do that is in mass.

Golf Shoes Playing a 18 hole round of golf is equal to strolling 5 - 7 mile's. Even if you are intending on leasing a golf cart you still need an excellent set of golf shoes to give the appropriate traction and support needed to hit the ball well. Golf shoes are common golf equipment on the training course these days and also you will not be taken seriously if you are using a pair of sneakers.

Golf Handwear cover You never ever see the pros playing without a glove as well as there is a factor for this. It is crucial for keeping a great grip on the club. Without wearing a handwear cover you risk of having the club slip out of your hands, not only is that unpleasant, yet could be harmful also. Just attempt turning the club without one and also you will certainly see what I'm speaking about. A golf glove is cost effective and required. Be sure to get geared up with a golf handwear cover.

Golfing Pants You might assume this is a bit of an expenditure and not needed, nevertheless the video game of golf is a gent's video game, so lets maintain with the tradition as well as outfit for the event. You wish to look great on the program and even if you are not playing like a professional yet, you will get respect and also approval from your other golfers by putting on correct attire. It reveals various other golf players that you are taking the video game seriously. Nonetheless the actual benefit is in the design. Manufactured especially for golfers to optimize adaptability and also convenience by not limiting the movement that is called for when turning a golf club

Golf shirts The very same can be said for golf shirts as pointed out over for pants, look great, loosened suitable as well as comfy.

Know lets go over the less obvious golf devices that you might not have thought about.

Golf Hat or Visor Golf is an outdoor sport and you are more than likely going to remain in the sunlight for a couple of hrs or even more, so securing on your own from warm and also damaging sunlight rays is a must. Also consider sun block. A good suggestion is to carry some in your golf bag.

Pencil as well as Scorecard Lug a pencil as well as scorecard in your golf bag. You are responsible for tracking your own rating so be prepared to do so. A lot of courses offer scorecards.

Golf Towel You are going to require a golf towel for wiping the pleasant from your hands, cleaning the golf club face or for drying your sphere off after a washing. Your ball will certainly obtain unclean or even muddy and will certainly need cleaning. Many training courses give a basic sphere cleaning device that you can make use of and also are located at various locations around the golf course.

Sphere Marker Some point to mark the sphere position on the eco-friendlies when your round remains in one more golf players line to the pin. Extra adjustment like a dollar or nickel can be utilized or you can get the real point.

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[jimmydemaret]

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[fashion230mania]

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[witchyvampyre]

Oh, and Hestia and 11 for Harry Potter asks!

11: who's your favorite non-human character?

To be honest, my favorite non-human character is either Dobby or Aragog.

Hestia: describe your ideal house

I actually had a friend ask me this the other day and it's quite long. But the short of it is a 2 story, stone cottage that looks like a witch hovel.

Scene

You turn off the street through a rod iron, ivy covered gate, Down a treelined rough brick drive, the house is hidden from the road by trees and the gate that is half cobblestone half rod iron with ivy spilling over the top in spots. The house is seemingly placed on a pedistul with rock stairs built into the hill from the drive that leads to a rock path through the small lawn that is littered with purple thyme and wildflowers that grow about ankle height.

Surrounding the house is a small cluttered garden of herbs and flowers purposefully creating a wild forest of witchy and homeopathic ingredients that smell divine. There is a well positioned porch that wraps around the opposite side of the house with more potted plants littering around a few chairs and an end table which holds a vintage bed warmer being used as an ashtray. The front door is purple and rounded at the top. With 2 mini windows in it and iron support bars acrost the wooden panelling.

Inside the front door there is a little stone tile entryway with shoes littering the wall to the right behind the door with hooks for coats . To the left there is a small table against the parallel wall with mail and a bowl for keys and an umbrella stand with hats and scarves and leashes for the animals. Passed the entryway the floor changes to older wood flooring, at the end of the wall to the right opens to the dining room with a rough cut, viking style, repurposed wood table with 8 chairs atop an area rug. The table has a hidden leaf to accommodate the 4 chairs stored at various places against the walls of the room. There is a beautiful Victorian style China cabinet filled with a variety of different china patterns on the far wall. There is a buffet table on the adjacent wall (across from the large window that faces the lawn) with a lovely doily runner and dried flowers displayed with tall candlesticks on either side and a crystal candy dish on one side filled with butterscotch and peppermint candies. There is a sliding pocket door beside the buffet table that leads to the kitchen.

The kitchen is a moderate size with vintage tins for each bulk ingredient, drying herbs and flowers hanging all around. There is more ivy growing around the cabinets, which have fogged glass doors, and the bottom cabinets have curtains. There is a garden sink with a window looking out to the wrap around porch and an island in the middle with a grate hanging above it which stores baking pans and hangs pots/pans and various other things. There is a door way to the left of the door you just came through that leads back to the hallway and a walk-in pantry to the right with a hidden root veggie and wine storage beneath a trap door in the floorboard. On the opposite wall of the pocket door you just came through between the oven and the refrigerator, there is a farm door that leads out to the back part of the porch with a secondary screen door.

Going through the door to the left you're back in the entryway/hallway where you can see into the open livingroom passed the bottom of the stairs. Beneath the stairs there is the half bath, a simple toilet and sink set up. The livingroom has a small library in the front of the house surrounding a bay window that doubles as a comfy reading nook crapped in vintage lace curtains. (There is no TV!) There is a wood burning fireplace in the center of the far wall an alter is set up on the mantle with a swing arm that holds my cauldron over the fire fronted by a couple of wingback chairs. To the right further in the house there is a Victorian style couch with a small but long coffee table (with floor pillows stored underneath) facing a TV mounted to the wall surrounded by mounted gaming systems and music system complete with record player. In the corner there is a closet with records, movies, internet router, board games, blankets, and other various things.

Up the wooden stairs the floor the center of the layout is hall with 5 doors. The hallway in the upper floor curls to the left. And there are 2 doors on the left, one ahead, and 2 on the right wall and on at the end of the hall to the left. The closest door is at the top of the stairs to the right. Which leads to an office/library/craft room with shelf's lining the walls except the wall with the window which has a work desk that houses my computer, various printers (3d philament/resin, ink, and graphite), and the scanner. There is a closet to the far right which houses various tools, fabric, etc. In the middle of the room is another work table that looks more like an oversized cutting mat with a few chairs and stools surrounding it. Looks like we've had more than a few paint and marker fights over it. There is a rocking chair in the corner with a small foot stool that has a lovely crochet throw over it for reading when I don't want to go downstairs.

Back in the hall the next door is a full bathroom which has a lovely larger than standard tub in it with a small cabinet over the toilet and a farmhouse washing basin style sink. It is more of a vintage meets farmhouse style guest bathroom. With tile flooring and a small window with a stained glass. There are a few hooks for towels behind the door and on the wall beside the tub for easy access. A few small fluffy rugs to keep people from leaving puddles on the floor. The curtain for the tub is wrap around with some sort of quilted pattern on it. It's not a huge room but is big enough to bathe the baby while your teenager tries to fix their eyeliner in the mirror. Lol

(All of the floors are wood with at least one area rug in it to accent the color or mood of the room)

The next door you come too is a guest bedroom. It is about the size of the office with a queen sized bed pushed almost against the far right corner. There is a small end table with a lamp allowing for a bit of walking room between the bed and the far wall (opposite the door). There is a small chest of drawers across from the bed to the right with a vanity mirror and a vintage washbasin on top complete with pitcher and handtowel. Beside it is a small door to a closet with extra linens and pillows. It's relatively empty other than a few extra things like winter coats and a few hidden Christmas gifts for next year and a forgotten golf bag that dad left last time he was there to visit. Beside the door to the left there is a taller chest of drawers with a few pictures of family get togethers and fun memories on the walls. There are two windows one that overlooks the backyard and one that is on the wall opposite the door. It's simple cute and cozy.

The next door is the kids bedroom. (If I have three the guest bed will be the oldest siblings room before they move out and the younger two will more than likely be twins so they'll share or will segregate boy/girl etc.) The kids room is bigger than the guest room. With a bed coming out of the middle of the wall to the left. To the right there is a large mirror-double-doored wardrobe which houses clothes, shoes, uniforms, hats, winter wear etc. In the Tob there is a shelf for a few extra linens for sleep overs or whathaveyou. There is again 2 windows. There is a blown glass style window above the headboard of the bed which has a drapey sheer curtain that falls behind the bed, and there is a more stained glass window to the wall opposite the door that is behind a sort of work desk littered with books and papers and a laotop. Their school bag hangs by one shoulder strap off the chair. There is a more modern floor lamp beside it with a rubbish bin beneath it overflowing with wadded paper. There is a bookshelf to the right of the desk between the wardrobe and the wall full of novels and a radio/Bluetooth speaker. It also stores games and other things my kid has collected (stolen from me) over the years. On the wall to the left of the door is a huge lovesac covered in laundry next to the laundry basket in the corner. There are a vanity to the right of the bed and a small end table to the left (between the bed and the wall). both are littered with books, jewelry, makeup, niknacks,chargers, and a lamp. I don't want to know what's under the bed, but there is a small chaise at the foot of the bed. There is enough floor space to have a blanket fort or a small sumber party of about 6 kids.

The last room is the master suite. You walk in the door, and there is an attached bathroom to the left. Through a door at the far corner of the room. The queen sized bed is rod iron, with a lovely victorian Italian feel to it. It is against the far wall coming out from the middle with an end table on either side (his and her style). At the foot of the bed there is a chaise with shoes underneath. To the right of the door there is a window that overlooks the front of the house, it looks to have a bit of a window seat for reading. There is a glider chair int he corner beside the window. With a foot stool infront of it. To the left between the glider and the bedside table seems to be a combination of a quilt rack and a Butler station with a hanging suit and a little surface with my husband's daily accessories on it (wallet, belt, cologne, rings, knives, etc). To the left of the entry door is a bit more witchy/girly. There is a small writing desk that looks to double as a vanity with a collection of vintage and antique niknacks with drawers and built-in storage for my jewelry, knives, stamps, stationary, passports, etc. Between the vanity and the bathroom door looks to be a 5 panel changing screen where I have a few outfits hanging on a vintage clothes rack behind it. my silky house coat and a towel seem to have taken residence draping over one of the screen panels. Through the bathroom door there is a larger garden claw-foot tub with a Waterfall showerhead that takes up the majority of the back wall. There is stone tile flooring that also lines the walls about a 3rd of the way from the floor. The sink is to the left of the door and is a bit modern and standard with cabinetry beneath in storing towels (extras included) as well as toiletries and toilet paper. There is a cabinet over the toilet to the right that stores most of my body and hair products including my husband's few various products for hair care and maintenance. There is a small stainglass window that lets in natural light between the tub and the toilet where the towel rack is mounted just below it. And there are a few hooks behind the door as well as right next to the tub(to the left) for towels and robes for dressing.

When you go back downstairs passed the half bath between the stairs an dthe livingroom there is a sort of mudroom/laundry room. That leads to the back porch (is about 8 feed from the kitchen door which is to the right) to the left there is a set of stairs that lead you to the little bit of a backyard that has a trampoline and an in-ground pool. There may be a 2 door garage to the left where the workshop is for building and restoring/fixing things along with a section for gardening stuff. I really hate grads do there will be little pads of clover and creeping thyme as well as little gardens lining the gate and overgrown ivy with a few trees--one has a tree swing. Maybe the kid and my spouse plan on building a treehouse soon. I probably have a little garden labarenth hidden in the corner somewhere to do ritual outside. Or offering or whatever.

Yea... That's my house.

[welllpthisishappening]

[Always] A Boast or Brag

Alright, it’s Fourth of July. Hockey players are consistently absurd in the offseason. And @stealing-vengence sent me an ask earlier today suggesting that something from this post of the aforementioned hockey players being absurd would help inspire some words. So, uh, I spent 30 minutes typing before getting absolutely wrecked at mini-golf and here we are. 

Set the summer after Matt is born, so this is actually July 4, 2019 here. It’s like, only, two thousand words! A drabble! 

I hope you guys all have/had/will continue to have a good Fourth, but also, like, America is kind of a disaster, so if you’ve got a few extra bucks maybe send ‘em here so you can help other people. Let’s be good people. 

------

It really was a dumb idea.

A stupid idea.

An idiotic idea.

A vaguely patriotic idea

Emma wasn’t even sure if that last one made sense, but Mrs. Vankald had outdone herself and they were in Colorado and it was probably…something about the sun. Or the holiday. Or how stupid it was that Emma was still so incredibly, possibly irrationally, attracted to her own husband.

Particularly when he kept splashing in a pool with their son.

That was just unfair.

So, really, she could not be held accountable for whatever happened next.

Because what happened next might have been the dumbest thing she’d ever done.

“I’m telling you, the logistics of it are possible,” Liam said, and Emma knew it wasn’t the first time he’d used those words in that exact order, but she’d admittedly only kind of been paying attention.

Will shook his head slowly, slumped against the stairs at the other end. “Have you lost your mind?”

“You don’t think so?”

“I think you’re drunk and you’re insane.”

“No, no, no—“

“—That’s totally what it is,” Robin interrupted. He hadn’t gotten in the pool once, more than content to spend most of the afternoon on a chair next to Regina while both of their kids did their best to get as much water on the deck as possible.

Mrs. Vankald must have bulk-ordered American flag bathing suits.

“Do you have any idea what he’s talking about?” Emma murmured, bumping her arm against Elsa’s. She couldn’t actually see her roll her eyes, what with the sunglasses and the absolute refusal to change into flag-branded despite the uproar of the peanut gallery and their announcements that she should have been the most patriotic of all, but Emma could feel it. She knew it.

The muscles in her face were starting to ache from all the smiling.

“Scarlet is right, it’s definitely an alcohol thing,” she muttered, drawing an indignant sound out of Liam and a laugh out of Killian. It made Matt splash even more. “But, yes, I do.”

“And you want to share with the class, or…”

“Leader thinks we should be playing chicken,” Will explained. “But like—“

“—Ultimate chicken,” Liam amended, and Emma’s eyes couldn’t flicker to Killian’s quickly enough. He was wearing flag-branded sunglasses. That was also kind of distracting.

It was the mostly the kid thing, though.

“And what,” Emma started, “is ultimate chicken, exactly?”

Liam actually stood up a bit straighter. It wasn’t all that easy, one of the twins hanging off his side while the other appeared especially insulted that Roland could get more splash on his cannonball, but he certainly made an effort and Emma had to bite her lip to stop from laughing.

It was an idiotic idea.

“Ultimate chicken,” Liam said, “is, as its name implies, the ultimate form of physical—“

“—Oh my God, say combat,” Regina muttered, not taking her eyes off the magazine in her hand.

Liam’s shoulders slumped. “It’s not combat, Your Highness. It’s…well, it’s chicken. Like pool chicken, you know?”

“He’s only doing this because it’s the one thing we didn’t have when we were kids,” Anna laughed. She dropped on Emma’s other side, Lizzie clinging to the straps of her bathing suit top and her eye roll was really more a full body roll.

“No pool,” Elsa added.

Emma nodded, a soft ahh and another glance Killian’s direction. He grinned. “He’s a giant whiner is really what’s going on,” Killian said, hauling Matt in his arms and the splashes were even larger when they were more like kicks.

Her heart felt like it was going to explode.

Like a firework.

So, at least she was on brand.

“Do not act like you guys were not disappointed about the pool thing,” Liam shouted, but that only led to more laughter and Emma was a little worried Will was going to drown. He kept sliding further down the steps.

“No one was disappointed about a pool. Water was supposed to be frozen, not swum in. Swam in? What’s the right tense there?”

“Didn’t go to college,” Regina muttered.

Killian stuck his tongue out at her. And then immediately started blowing raspberries on Matt’s stomach.

“You realize that I’m still waiting on an explanation for ultimate chicken,” Emma pointed out, and Will was absolutely going to drown.

Liam slung Charlie over his back, leveling Emma with a very specific type of stare that she was starting to believe was, in fact, genetic. She didn’t blink. “You’re familiar with chicken?”

“Didn’t grow up with a pool either.”

“Ok, don’t be difficult.” She splashed him, reveling a bit in the way he sputtered against the water. Killian was openly smirking at her now. “Jeez,” Liam grumbled. “See if I ask you to be on my team.”

“Was he always this bad at getting to the point?” Robin asked. “Why did we ever let him be in charge of anything?”

“It’s three-person chicken! God,” Liam groaned, not able tot how his head back like Emma knew he wanted to. That was probably also genetic. “So it’s two people on top, instead of one and then we—“

“—Do combat,” Regina finished.

“I hate all of you.”

“God bless, us everyone,” Anna said, Killian shaking his head.

“Wrong holiday.”

“Your sunglasses are stupid.”

“Don’t tell your mom that.”

“She’s watching 1776.”

“Of course she is.”

“Is no one going to agree to ultimate chicken?” Liam asked, but every word was a bit more petulant than the last and Elsa wasn’t even trying to mask her laugh. Will had started floating at some point.

“You’re going to kill all of us, if we do that,” Robin said.

“Where is your adventurous spirit?”

“Stuck in my rookie season.”

“He’s old, you see,” Killian drawled. Robin threw a towel at him. “Hey, c’mon, I’m not throwing things at your kids!”

“Yeah, my kids are throwing themselves, so that threat doesn’t hold any—“

“—Water,” Elsa and Anna shouted at the same time, identical laughs and wide smiles and Emma was fairly certain the warm flutter of feeling under her skin didn’t have anything to do with the sun.

Killian glanced at her again.

She shrugged.

She’d never played chicken before.

And it was the dumbest, stupidest idea in the history of the world.

“Liam, you’re going to have to be some kind of super strong base,” Emma said, pulling her legs out of the water so she could get back in the water. It was a very round-about way of doing things, but then, she supposed, ultimate chicken was also kind of strange and Liam looked a little overjoyed. “Because I’m not sitting on anyone’s shoulders except Killian’s.”

“Tough break,” Killian quipped, a smile practically dripping with sarcasm now.

“Are you guys kidding me?”

Emma shook her head. “I don’t think we’re going to be able to stand up, if I’m being honest, but you deserve to live your dream, Liam Jones, so…”

“You’re making fun.”

“Yes. Obviously.”

Elsa snickered, sliding into the pool as well. “Which is what you deserve, babe,” she said, a quick kiss to his cheek. “Scarlet, are we doing this, then?”

“Yeah, of course we are.”

Liam gaped at them. “You guys are kidding.”

“This is what you wanted, Liam,” Killian reasoned. “You two need a third, though. Otherwise we’re killing ourselves for nothing.”

“If any of you die, I’m going to be very frustrated,” Regina said.

“Noted. I’m serious, El, find another third person or—“

“—Obviously I’m going to do it,” Anna announced, sounding more than a little annoyed that they hadn’t realized. “I’ve just got to…” She glanced around, like one of the Vankalds would appear suddenly to take over child-watching duties and this entire family was a joke and a fairy tale and goddamn wonderful because Mrs. Vankald did, in fact, appear, phone in one hand and “Sit Down, John” humming in the air around her. Anna handed Lizzie over.

And got water everywhere when she jumped in the pool.

Liam groaned and Killian laughed and Matt sounded overjoyed, so many people and moving water and Regina finally put her magazine down to mutter give me that kid before retreating back to her chair almost immediately.

Which was, probably, for the best because the whole thing was as absurd as Emma thought it would be.

Liam had to crouch in the middle of the pool, just shallow enough that he wasn’t treading water, Killian clamoring onto his shoulders and there were more than a few god, skate more, you weigh six tons, exchanged before Emma felt like she could even attempt to get on.

That was a very strange sentence.

That was probably a metaphor for America.

“This is not going to work,” she muttered, but both Jones brothers shook their head. She was not surprised Killian was already determined to win. Over-competitive idiot.

“It is, Swan. Look, look, we’ve got logistics and—“

Liam let out a triumphant noise. “I knew you’d come around eventually, little brother.”

“My foot is very close to your face, you want to try that again?”

“Jeez,” Anna sighed. “It’s like time has not passed at all.”

Emma took a deep breath, trying not to think of all the ways this was going to completely blow up in her face. That was another fireworks joke. “Ok,” she said. “Liam, you’ve got to get lower, you are severely overestimating my climbing ability.” Killian snickered. “Oh, do not,” she warned, slinging a leg halfway up Killian’s arm.

“Something about a tree, right, love?”

“I will kick you.”

“You’re not that flexible.”

She nipped at the shell of his ear, making him laugh and wobble and Liam cursed loudly. “Alright, alright,” Emma chanted, a poor attempt to psych herself up. Her right leg had gotten over Killian’s shoulder, but her left foot was still on the ground, a shaky base and the out-of-practice thigh muscles of Liam Jones and—“I’m just gonna…”

The rest of the words got caught in her throat, any sense of the English language quickly mutating into a scream and a shout and something far closer to a shriek. The water was cold. And everywhere.

It shot into Emma’s mouth and up her nose, trying to breathe despite the distinct lack of oxygen and she flailed like she’d just been thrown over the side of a ship instead of falling off her husband’s shoulders while playing the world’s most ridiculous pool game.

She sputtered as soon as she crested back up, breathing heavily and…Killian smiled at her. Broadly. His hair was everywhere, strands stuck to his forehead and, somehow, below his right eyebrow, drops of water falling from his jaw line and the tip of his nose.

There was the start of a bruise on his arm.

“Did I do that?” Emma asked, reaching out and that might have been her biggest mistake, because it only made it easier for him to pull her flush against his chest. And kiss her. While he was still smiling.

She could briefly make out Anna’s grumbled idiots.

Killian nosed at her cheek, a nip to her lower lip and another kiss that threatened to make Emma’s knees wobble. More. They’d somehow, migrated to the deeper end of the pool.

“Liam’s got absolutely no control of his limbs,” Killian mumbled, and she didn’t remember moving her arms around his neck.

She wasn’t really treading water.

That was nice.

“Yeah, so, we’re not doing that,” Will announced. “I refuse to reach this level of Jones insanity.”

Emma hummed, letting her forehead rest against Killian’s. “That’s fair. You ok, though?”

“Better,” Killian promised. “Gina, give me back my kid.”

Regina didn’t need to be told twice, moving Matt back into Killian’s arms and those kicks weren’t quite as strong as Liam’s, but it was something else about genetics and happiness and, probably, the overall state of the summer. The pool was nice. And the sun was warm.

And 1776 was, it appeared, a very good way to get their kid to fall asleep, Emma curled against Killian’s side hours later with Matt’s eyes closed and John Adams singing in the background.

[blvckpng]

Golf Equipment List- The Essentials You Need To Get Started Golfing

Wondering what equipment you need to play the game of golf?

Golf is a great game for getting outside, socializing and getting some exercise. There are several types of equipment that the golfers need to play the game.

Let’s go through the essential golf equipment list.

Golf Balls

Golf Ball is the most essential element for playing golf. It weighs 1.62 ounces and has a minimum diameter of 1.68 inches (42.67 mm). A harder ball can travel long, while golfer has more control over spin and distance on softer ball.

Golf Clubs

Each golfer can bear up to 14 golf clubs in their bags. Maximum golf clubs bear number. The number mentioned loft or angle of the club.

Golf Tees

Golf tees are one type of durable wooden tools. Plastic tees are also available. These are large and adjustable at a comfortable height with your driver. You need to buy golf tees in bulk for playing golf.

Ball Markers

Ball marking is important for identifying your ball if you hit an evil short. So, keep a marker pen into your bag to mark your ball.

Golf Pencil

It’s not a smart matter to borrow a pencil from other players. So, keep some pencil and other small accessories in the small pocket of your bag so that you can easily find them. They are readily available in the market and come with affordable price.

Pitch Fork

It requires for marking the pitch. It doesn’t matter what sorts or standard golfer you are; you need to mark the pitch. You must have the pitchfork during tee off any round.

Dark Colored Towels

You need a dark colored towel to clean the ball. It cleans the ball perfectly than a white towel. Always keep some towels into your golf bags to use in different situations.

Gloves

It is essential equipment for golfers to gain better grip. It also helps to gain more control on the swing and reduce the chance of skin friction. Generally, golfers wear gloves on prevalent hand; someone can use it on both hands.

Sunscreen

Everybody knows about the harmful effect of the sun. Golfers need to stay 5 to 6 hours every day under the hot sun. So use sunscreen before playing. Always keep sunscreen in your golf bags.

Additionally, Golfers need Umbrella to protect themselves from the hot sun and an unexpected shower of rain. They can also purchase golf hitting net and golf hitting mat to practice golf indoor.

Golf shoes, caps, Golf ball retriever, Alignment sticks, portable charger, etc. are also the things you need for golf to play smoothly.

Hope, now you’ve a better understanding about what do you need to play golf.

Thanks for reading!

[mancavecloset]

The Waterpark - pt. 1

It was a cloudless, mid-August day in the northeast United States. The year was 2012. I had two straight days off from work, which was rare for me, as I’d been juggling three jobs all summer to build up some savings for my first year of college. And for once, all three of my best friends from high school - Sam, Josh, and Kyle - were in town. I was eager to reunite with them and have one last hurrah before we all headed our separate ways for college.

A few weeks back when we’d realized we would all be free for the same 2-day span, we decided to go on a small road trip together. We settled on a mountainside waterpark ‘resort’ a few hours north from where we lived. Though, ‘resort’ was probably a bit too generous a term. I’d been up there for a day trip with my family a few years back, and while the waterpark was neatly built-out alongside the slope of a mountain, with tons of cool rides, pools, and places to eat, the “resort” part pretty much began and ended with a fairly ritzy lodge-style hotel (the place doubled as a ski resort in the winter). On the far south end of the forested property, some campsites and small, rentable cabins dotted the area, with a small rec hall, café, and communal bathhouse in the center.

We decided against splurging on a room in the hotel, since for one, we all were trying to save money for the fall semester. More importantly, we planned to get shit-faced drunk that night, and didn’t want to deal with noise complaints from wealthy hotel guests. Nobody was trying to get an underage drinking citation right before college began. Instead, we went with the thriftier option of renting one of the small cabins, which from the website was said to have two full size beds and a refrigerator. It also had its own grill and fire pit off of the patio so that we could bring our own food and cook. Most alluringly, the cabins seemed to be spaced far enough apart in the woods that we could do a fair amount of loud, annoying, 18-year-old things without causing too much of a disturbance.

I, being the planner of the bunch, booked the cabin and elected myself the driver. I woke up that morning and texted the boys to make sure they were getting up and around. Sam was supposed to be dropped off at my house around 8am, and then I was to pick up Kyle and Josh once we headed out, since their places were on the way.

Sam was the only one of my friends I had really seen at all that summer, but he was busy with band friends, his summertime golf course job, and his newfound passion for yoga, so I really had only seen him a few times since graduation in mid-May. Sam and I did occasionally meet up late at night to drive around, smoking weed and shooting the breeze, but other than that we never really got to see much of each other. I was glad that he was in town and that we had the chance to bond one-on one, since he was the newest of the group of friends. He had only moved to our school about three years ago, and we didn’t really become close until junior year. 

Sam was charming and easy to like. He was a bit of a music nerd, and this past year was the drum major for our school’s marching band, but he got along well with everyone. From cheerleaders to football players to artsy wallflowers, everyone seemed to know and like Sam. He was very non-threatening, but carried himself with more confidence than you would expect for having just a 5′6″, 145 lb frame. He narrowly missed being crowned homecoming king, losing by single-digit votes to our school’s admittedly endearing quarterback. Especially impressive, given that he had only been going to our school for just over two years. Sam was naturally handsome, with thick, long-ish brown hair that waved down around to his ears and framed his boyish face nicely. His eyes were big and expressive, and his nose small, upturned and cherubic. He had a wide, almost feminine mouth with curvy full lips, which were contradicted by a masculine, pointed jawline. His smile was infectious, and he always knew how to charm people with jovial banter.

Sam and I shared a few classes together my sophomore year, and though we were friendly with eachother, we never really hung out outside of school. At the start of junior year, we were assigned as lab partners for AP Chemistry. That semester, we became workout buddies. My previous workout partner, Josh, and I had stopped going together, Josh instead opting to go with his jockier friends to his volleyball team’s lifting sessions. As I began to get to know my new workout buddy and chemistry partner more closely, we became fast friends. I started inviting him to hang out with Josh and Kyle, forming the aforementioned core group of four that would be heading up to the mountains together in a few hours. Josh and Kyle quickly took to him and his one-of-the-guys attitude, though when one-on-one with me, he always flashed a bit more of a contemplative and sensitive side. We could talk about deep things that I never really could with Josh and Kyle, which was very refreshing, and allowed me to be more authentic and vulnerable around Sam.

I had begun realizing I was gay right around the time my freshman year started, but I had always been terrified to tell anyone how I was feeling. I knew if I ever told anyone, it’d be Sam. He was just such a safe and understanding guy. He had a few gay friends and it was not something he seemed to be phased by, so I figured he would be the most understanding person I could tell without fear of judgment, or making it awkward.

But my inkling to confide in him faded fast a few months into senior year, when I realized I had started developing sexual feelings for him. This caught me off guard, as up until that point the only guys that struck my fancy were tall, muscular studs and pudgy beefy types who had big appetites and growing paunches. Sam was neither of those, as his short and relatively lean frame would suggest, but he did have one asset (pun intended) that really got me going: his perfectly round bubble butt. No matter what type of pants he wore, the two perky globes protruded proudly from his backside and bounced firmly as he walked. His newfound passion for yoga brought him to wear more athletic pants that often let little to the imagination. The circular slope of his cheeks jutted out below the small of his back at an almost 90 degree angle, rounding perfectly down his rump like meaty tear drops above his hamstrings. The ass truly defied gravity. Plenty of times I’d steal glimpses of it as he changed before our workouts after school, testing the back seams of his Calvin Klein boxers as he’d change from school clothes to gym clothes. But annoyingly, he was hesitant to shower at the school after our workouts and instead opted to go home in his gym clothes. I’d never seen him or his juicy ass fully unclothed. Sam’s body was boyishly smooth- just the tiniest amount of fuzz between his pecs and the faintest little happy trail underneath his cute belly button. No chest hair, no back hair. I could only image how soft and smooth his bubble ass would look in its full bare glory. 

While up and showering, the thought of Sam’s gravity-defying butt started to chub up my fairly average cock. I know “fairly average” is not descriptive, but it literally is the most standard cock. If I must describe it (you horny bastards): cut, hangs just slightly to the left, no big veins, a little over 6″ on a good day, and average girth. Though, I do have a nicely pronounced ridge where the head meets the shaft that does give it a bit of character, and at the end of the day I really can’t complain about it. I’d been in swim team locker rooms for four years… there were some pretty ugly dicks out there. For a long time, it had been much smaller, and I worried it would never grow, thus I was elated to have reached the 6” threshold when the later stages of puberty finally kicked in. So, yeah. Average was good.

As the water from the showerhead cascaded over my body, I mindlessly rubbed soap suds up and down my shaft and lazily imagined that Sam was standing in front of me: facing the wall, ass jiggling towards my swelling package. Eventually, I just decided to leave it at half-mast as I cut the water, stepped out, and toweled off, inspecting my body in the mirror as I did. 

I was pretty proud at how I’d managed to stay in decent shape despite my hectic schedule this summer. My primary job was as a lifeguard at the local country club. On rainy days when nobody showed up to the pool, I’d do crunches, push ups, dips, and body squats under the roof of the pavilion, since I wasn’t getting regular workouts in like I did during school. Being a swimmer had its perks, like being able to eat whatever I wanted and not gain weight, but it always made my body a little more slender than I’d prefer. My 6′ 175 lb frame was probably no more well-muscled than it had been 4 months ago, despite my rainy day efforts. My limbs were especially lanky, something Josh liked to tease me about since he had upped his workout intensity a few years back. Over the past two years he bulked up considerably, after swapping our tame thrice-weekly gym regimen with daily, 2+ hour training sessions with his volleyball friends. I styled my short, brown hair in a tight coif, and brushed my naturally straight, white teeth. I was good looking enough, but never considered myself much of a heartthrob. I inspected my lean, hairy chest in the mirror. Gotta start benching again, I thought to myself, as I tried to make my baby pecs dance.

I heard a slam of a car door and out of the bathroom window saw Sam exiting his mom’s SUV at the bottom of my driveway. He was wearing annoyingly baggy athletic shorts that went about mid-thigh, and a white t-shirt that he seemed to fill out more than I’d have expected him to. I quickly threw on my Saxx boxer briefs, some cutoff khaki pants, and a RVCA tank top, and hurried out into the living room where my mom was busy greeting him at the door. 

“Micah!” Sam exclaimed as I pulled him into a hug. A real hug, not the bro kind that alot of guys half-assed. I guess most people wanted to stave off the slightest hint of anything other than pure masculinity, but Sam didn’t give a shit what people thought about his hugs. It was one of the things I both admired and envied about him. I gave him a friendly squeeze as he smiled, “I missed you buddy.” 

Shit, I thought, how long has it been? “Almost a month,” I answered myself, realizing that statement was not really cohesive to what he had just said. I quickly added an “I missed you too Sam,” and smiled warmly back.

“You ready for an epic weekend?” He asked, eyebrows moving upwards as he spoke. I chuckled.

“Today is Wednesday.”

“Oh shit,” he jokingly pondered. So like him to not know what day it was. “Well whatever, it’s a weekend for us! Road trip! Did Kyle give you his most recent pretentious music playlist for you to blare in the car?”

I chuckled, “Oh yeah man, Thom York’s greatest hits only. With a brief intermission for an inspiring TED talk on how to get ‘jacked’ in no time,” I sarcastically air-quoted. Sam laughed.

“Oh Josh, bless his meathead soul,” Sam shook his head in feigned sympathy, the corners of his mouth turned up as his eyes shone playfully.

Josh always meant well, but he had a big ego, and we never let him live down last summer when he came back from a six-week volleyball camp and tried to explain to us how we too could get jacked in two months. 

My mom, back from filling my car with what I assumed was her liberal interpretation of “the essentials,” fluttered around us making sure we both had everything packed. “Swimsuits?” Check. “Cash?” Check. “Socks, underwear, towels?” Check, check, and check. 

“I put the coolers of food in the trunk!” She called as we carried our bags down to my trusty old Mazda. 

“You mean the amount of food that could feed the Packers’ offensive line for three months? Yes, mom.” I chuckled back. She really overdid it. There were six packs of hotdogs, three lbs of ground beef, a small mountain of hot dog and hamburger buns, several bags of chips and other salty snacks, two 24-packs of chocolate chip cookies, 12 PB&J sandwiches ‘for the road’ (it was a 2-hour drive), along with a family size jar of peanut butter, a giant bag of granola, a king size carton of candy bars, a family pack of Oreos, three bags of marshmallows, two boxes of graham crackers, a Costco-sized thing of Gatorades, and eight two-liters of soda. 

“Well, I don’t know! You eat alot! And your friends eat alot. Not you, Sam, but Kyle and Josh do!” I rolled my eyes. I really hadn’t been eating a lot since swim season ended, because when I wasn’t training but still eating like my leg was hollow, I’d pudge up a few lbs pretty quickly. I liked my abs, and wanted them for college, so no – I wasn’t planning on eating that much food. She had a point though. Josh and Kyle did eat alot.

Sam chirped in, “Thanks Mrs. K! Plus, it will be good to have extra in case we run into any laaaaadies.” He drew out the ladies part as he shimmied his shoulders at me. I rolled my eyes even harder. 

“Okay Sam, what kind of girl would even put a dent in that much food?” I motioned to the cornucopia of coolers and grocery bags basically spilling out of my car.

“Who said it’d only be one,” he winked. I couldn’t help but laugh at that. Sam was little, but he could ham it up bigger than anyone I knew. 

“Drive safe! Don’t speed,” My mom said as she kissed me on the forehead.

It was Sam’s turn to roll his eyes. “Mrs. K, do you know how aggravatingly slow your son drives?” I punched his arm and he let out a fake whimper.

My mom moved to kiss Sam on the forehead, which he happily accepted, clutching his heart dramatically. “Hush you. Have fun boys!”

And with that, we climbed in the car and drove off, heading for Kyle’s house. 

...

Kyle had been away for the summer at his dad’s house in Kansas City, and his annoyingly scarce use of social media made it impossible for me to keep in touch with him. A sporadic text between work shifts or a call here or there was really all we’d done this summer, and even then it was mostly to discuss the newest music we’d been listening to. Kyle and I loved curating music playlists, and our evolving tastes in music were often a bonding point for us. Kyle was my first friend in middle school, as I was new to the school district and he was in all of my seventh grade classes. We quickly bonded over our shared interest in talking shit about our teachers and rolling our eyes the “popular” girls behind their backs, and soon became close friends outside of school as well. 

Kyle was really easygoing, and was always quick with a one liner or funny observation. I liked hanging out with him, because when we were doing something he was into, he took the lead. That was a welcome change for me sometimes, as usually I feel the need to plan everything out and make sure everyone is happy at all times. Kyle didn’t play sports but was always fairly active, so we would often go on bike rides around town or kayak at the nearby state park. He went to the gym a decent bit, but compared to even most serious athletes, he could mindlessly put away ridiculous swaths of food with little effect. Anytime him, Josh, and I had a sleepover in middle school and into high school, he’d almost singlehandedly clean out whoevers house’s pantry before we were even halfway through an all-nighter of video games and movies. His metabolism had to have been the hardest working one on earth, because the kid just ate non-stop. Though he was never what you would call skinny, he never was really big enough to make fun of, or even notice when he had a shirt on. He always had a small layer of chub, especially around his bellybutton and lovehandles, but he certainly wasn’t fat. And the way he ate, he should have been.

Kyle wore artsy t-shirts and hats alot, and his wayfarer glasses framed his face well. He had light, dusty brown hair that wisped down his forehead and framed a very midwestern, salt-of-the-earth set of cheekbones and jawline. His thin lips and broad chin sat below a symmetrical, average-sized nose and intelligent blue eyes. He was understatedly handsome, in the way you would associate with the lead character in an indie move. At the end of high school, his 5′11, 200 lb frame was stockier than it’d ever been for sure, but sturdy and strong too as he started to take the gym more seriously. Growing up, I always relished in seeing his few chub rolls and slight love handles when he would remove his shirt, but those were rare times. He was really only shirtless at the pool, or when we gamed late at night at Josh’s house in his cramped and stuffy basement. It was enough flab to pique my fancy, but never enough to make me see him in too much of a sexual light. He was always, in my mind, squarely my friend. Admittedly, I did sometimes wonder how he’d look if his metabolism ever called it quits and the pounds poured onto that sturdy, rugby-player frame.

I didn’t have to wonder long. As Sam and I pulled into Kyle’s townhome complex, I saw him bound down his front steps in some tight forest green khaki shorts and an even tighter Obey tee. Kyle didn’t wear tight clothes normally, so it took me a few seconds to even comprehend that it was him.

“Man, I’ve always heard Kansas City barbecue is good, but I guess there’s the proof,” Sam said in awe, chuckling dryly as I pulled my car into the parking spot at the front of Kyle’s place. 

“Hush,” I almost whispered, not being able to say much else. I was dumbfounded at the change heading down the steps in front of me. Kyle was big. Yes, it seemed like he had put on a bit more upper body muscle, but that was the least noticeable part of his transformation. His thick, fleshy thighs filled out his shorts completely, sending them in slow swaying jiggles as they moved, his meaty ass pushing the waistband of his shorts down to reveal his plaid boxers. Thick arms filled out the sleeves of his tee, his sizable muscles covered in a generous layer of soft flesh as he carried the duffel with his left arm. Where his arms met his torso, the beginnings of moobs strained against the fabric of his shirt, bridled but still visible as they bounced in cadence. The most impressive of all was his stomach, which billowed out and down from well beyond his moobs. The lower you looked, the bigger the belly swelled, and the bottom of the jiggly gut flashed from under his shirt with each step down the stairs. Kyle nodded his head upwards with a smile to acknowledge us, his face relatively unchanged except for a slight patch of extra padding under his chin. It was abundantly clear that Kyle had finally eaten himself past his metabolism’s breaking point this summer. At first glance I estimated that he had gained at least 35 lbs in the three months he’d been gone, maybe more. 

“Hey big guy!” Sam was out of the car quickly and collided with Kyle in his trademark embrace, causing Kyle to drop his duffel on the ground with an oof. Sam looked more dwarfed than usual in the shadow of the pudgier new Kyle, his torso nearly disappearing as Kyle’s large arms wrapped back hesitantly. Sam was on his tiptoes, so despite the baggy shorts, his ass cheeks pressed out proudly from the fabric like two wrestling cantaloupes. They wiggled ever so slightly as he continually adjusted the weight on his feet to his toes. Finally released from Kyle’s meaty arms, he playfully poked a finger into the side of Kyle’s gut that had just nearly swallowed him. I silently cringed, not wanting him to draw too much attention to the fact that Kyle had packed on some serious weight. 

“Ha, yeah, I’ve been hitting the gym with my dad this summer - in the middle of a bulk,” he smiled, a hint of pride in his voice. He was never one to care about his body much, so it seemed like such a foreign concept for Kyle to be “bulking” for a specific purpose.

"You look like you could lift a house!” Sam said, punching Kyle on the arm. Kyle smiled sheepishly and let out a light chuckle. I was glad glad he left it at that, as the last thing my slowly engorging dick wanted was for Kyle to be self-conscious about his body this weekend.

“Good to see you man,” I ambled up to him and opted for a more reserved bro hug. Even still, just a lightly pressing against him made his stomach give way much more considerably than I’d have thought. Up close, his body seemed even flabbier than it did from the car. My cock stirred ever so slightly at the sight of his now unmistakable gut.

I zoned out a bit as I climbed into the driver seat while Kyle and Sam chatted, catching up as they stood near the car. I became entranced by Kyle’s shirt riding further up his round, flabby belly, until eventually I could make out the bottom edge of a cavernous belly button. I realized that while I had zoned out, Sam had pulled a thing of Gatorades out from my hatchback, as well as one of the grocery bags that contained the PB&Js, along with a carton of the cookies and two bags of chips. He and Kyle were both chugging a Gatorade and fishing sandwiches from the grocery bag.

I noted a considerable dip in my shock absorbers as Kyle finally plopped into the front seat, drink in one hand and sandwich in the other. His belly rested heavily on the upper part of his quads as his fat rolls strained the fabric of his shirt. I shifted in my seat to hide my growing boner as I backed out of the parking space,

“Enjoy the front seat for 3 minutes,” Sam said to Kyle. “As if Josh is going to let our short asses up there to DJ.” 

He wasn’t wrong. Josh was notorious for playing the “I’m tall” card and claiming the front seat, but Kyle relished the opportunity to play his newest playlist through the aux cord on the way to Josh’s house as we talked about what he was doing up in Kansas City.

“Mostly I just went to the gym in the morning with my dad and then explored the city. I tried all the barbecue I could,” Kyle said. “It was awesome.” I could feel Sam’s knowing smirk from the seat behind me. “So glad my dad moved there, it is way nicer hanging out there than starving out in California with his fitness-freak ex. But damn if it isn’t hot as hell in the summer. Thank God for air conditioning and Call of Duty...” 

I immediately imagined the daily ritual Kyle employed during his time in Kansas City. Wake up, eat his typical four or five bowls of cereal and a muffin or two, go to the gym, venture out for barbecue, get home, peel off shirt (maybe even his pants, I thought, penis hardening even more at the mental visual) and snack non-stop while playing video games and downing sugary drinks. I thought about what I’d give to be a fly on the wall, watching day by day as Kyle grew stronger and fatter, smooth moobs and belly jiggling away as he mashed controller buttons and shoved processed food in his mouth.

I felt my cock start to stiffen impossibly more hard as I drove, as I stole glances at his smooth, jiggling stomach, which was now peeking out from below his t-shirt. He guzzled his Gatorade and munched away on his PB&J, and they were both gone before I had even gotten to the end of his street. I was kind of freaking out - I’d never been this aroused by Kyle, but weight gain was a huge turn-on for me, and it looked great on him. I could hear him conversing with Sam in the background of my lustful thoughts, and I started to feel guilty for tuning him out again as we were trying to catch up. I shifted in my seat again to try and covertly hide my now-raging boner as I snapped out of it just in time. 

“Yo Micah, have you heard of ‘Young the Giant?’” 

“Actually I have! But I haven’t gotten around to listening to them yet!” I enthused, shaking the lust off for the second time today. Kyle cranked up the volume as the sounds of alt-rock filled the car, and we turned on to Josh’s street.

...

There was weird history between Josh and I. He and Kyle were elementary school best friends, and I was quickly a welcome addition to slumber parties and hangouts once I’d made friends with Kyle in seventh grade. Soon, Josh and I had bonded over our love for sports, our tv-show preferences, and our shared interest in talking about sex. He was always taller than most of our classmates, with dark buzzed hair, a killer jawline, and plush, masculine lips. He had a ruggedly handsome face, yet his features were mostly soft. His eyes were intense and full of emotion; He could make you feel on top of the world or totally disarmed with just a glance. As puberty did wonders for him and stalled for me freshman year, a mix of jealousy and attraction for him washed over and confused me.

Thus, he was a large part of my sexual awakening that year. He dated my childhood best friend, Paisley, from the beginning of freshman year through a decent chunk of sophomore year. Because I was close friends with both of them, I got to hear details from both sides: when they’d had their first kiss, first make-out, second base, and so on. What really piqued my interest was when they started messing around together. I got to hear Josh talk about how great a hand-job felt, and Paisley talk about how long and thick Josh’s dick was.

From then on, I was obsessed with his dick and finding out just how big it really was, even convincing her to measure it the next time she serviced him. I pretended that I didn’t believe that it was really ‘all that big’. So one day, she actually measured. Over 7″ she said, and she couldn’t fit it in her mouth without scraping her teeth on it. Unfathomable to freshman year me, as at that point I was only packing 4″ and I knew that anyone could fit mine in their mouth with ease. I became more and more enamored with the thought of it, as a side effect really, because I eventually realized that I was head over heels in love with Josh. 

I constantly tried to see it in person freshman year. At the gym when we’d work out, I’d say things like “we smell, lets shower before we go home.” When I slept over, he would shower and I’d pretend to be asleep so that he would change in the room without worrying about me seeing him, and I could steal a few quick glances at it. Eventually he started to pick up on the attention I gave him, and began reciprocating. When it was just the two of us at sleepovers, he would have me lay on his lap while we played video games. In front of Paisley, he would tease her by having me sit on his lap or big spooning me on the couch. Eventually, it just became a ritual to sleep in the same bed, cuddling and sharing warmth. I loved being held by someone taller and stronger than me. I loved his smell. I loved feeling the rise and fall of his breath. And I wanted more.

Paisley and I had kissed in the school play in eighth grade, and one day late freshman year, she teased Josh that I was the better kisser. This drove him mad enough to kinda-joke, kinda-argue with me about who really was the best kisser, which culminated one night at a sleepover. We thought Kyle was asleep by then, so I felt a little ballsy and said “well I guess there’s only one way to find out.” We leaned closer together, and Josh’s hand grabbed the back of my head and started to bring our faces nearer. I felt the warm air of his breath as our lips began to close the distance and our faces got mere inches apart. I remember his eyes looked at me in a way that caught me by surprise. He looked at me as if he wanted me, and I was sure he knew as I locked eyes with him, that I wanted him too.

A groggy Kyle, without even looking up, mumbled “If you guys kiss I’m leaving.” That was enough to break the tension of the moment. We all laughed it off, but deep down it felt like a blown opportunity, and I then longed for that kiss that never came. 

Sophomore year I did get my other wish. He and Paisley broke up, and word spread around the school that he had an especially large member. He made the varsity volleyball team, impressive for a sophomore, and started going to the gym with his volleyball friends more often. We still worked out together when I went, but he was going twice as much as I was due to my 2-a-day swim practices prohibiting when I actually had the time. The rumors, his varsity status, and his swiftly muscling physique swelled his head quite a bit, and at large sleepovers which we now referred to as “parties”, he always made things a bit rowdy. He would joke in front of the group by randomly threading his flaccid dick through the hole in his flannel pajama pants, waiting for someone to notice it. When it finally got noticed, the room would explode in laughter. I remember the first time I saw it. He popped it out while standing up after winning a match of Fifa, and swung it like an elephant trunk by shaking his hips. This caused an eruption of laughter from the mix of volleyball guys and other friends at the party. I quietly left for the bathroom to rub one out. His dick was as big soft as mine was hard.

Soon Josh and I had left the cuddling sessions behind, and our friendship went back to a more “normal” one. We still had fun together, talked sports and girls and movies. I even got to see his dick a few more times when we would swim together at the high school pool. I was teaching him the more advanced strokes that he wanted to learn for his rotc training. But it was always soft, and he never kept it out longer than he had to. 

All this to say, I was pretty much past my puppy dog love for Josh by the time we graduated. He was still undeniably attractive, and he seemed to perpetually put on muscle, so he still occasionally entered my lustful thoughts as I’d lay in my bed at night jacking off. By graduation he was probably 6′3″, and about 215 lbs. His handsome face had become more chiseled and strapping as he got older. He had left straight from graduation to vacation with his family at the shore, and then headed off to a two-month volleyball camp at his future alma mater upstate. So like Kyle, I hadn’t seen him since May.

Let’s just say that Kyle wasn’t the only one who transformed over the summer. 

“Oh what the fuck, that’s not even fair,” Sam complained from the back seat as we pulled into Josh’s driveway and saw him waving at my Mazda from his front porch. 

As I put the car in park, Josh locked his parent’s front door and swung his hefty duffel over his shoulder with ease. He looked like he was an inch or two taller, but more notably was the sheer amount of muscle that he’d impossibly packed on in the past 3 months. His shoulders were the size of melons, his biceps looked like they were seconds away from popping, and his pecs almost needed a bra as they bounced in his flattering grey tank top. He’d cut the undersides of the tank’s armholes to let his riplping lats breathe out from the sides. His narrow waist connected to a well-muscled ass, which was hugged attractively by a tight pair of athletic shorts. A ridiculously big crotch bulge bounced between his thighs as the tight athletic shorts hugged the upper part of his quadriceps, revealing tree trunk legs and bulging calves. Sam’s jealousy wasn’t misplaced – Josh looked cut out of a magazine.

Josh’s size 14 sandals clapped against the ground as he bellowed, “who’s ready to get wehhh-ehhht!” He was in a chipper mood. I liked him most when he was like this, jovial and positive. His eyes were beaming; it was a dorky type of joy he rarely let people see anymore. I couldn’t help but smile as I climbed out of the Mazda. He pulled me tightly into a crushing hug, muscles rippling, lifting me off the ground as I mashed against his boulders-for-pecs. It was a genuine hug, but I almost felt he did it to force me to take notice of just how strong he had gotten. 

“How are you, Lank?” Fuck, I hated his favorite pet-name for me, but it felt kind of good to feel like he was kidding around with me in such a happy way. There was sometimes an intangible distance to our friendship now, as if we both feel guilty about what transpired when we were younger. I was glad to avoid those eggshells for the time being. 

“I’d be alot better if I could breathe, you giant ape,” I shot back, punishing him for using the lank word. A stupid grin plastered itself on my face. He smiled back, setting me back down to earth as our eyes locked, and I could see the happy glow falter in his irises for a millisecond. “I missed you man,” I said, surprising myself with how much I meant it.

“I missed you too, M,” he spoke quietly, in a gentle, blissful voice that he really only used to use in early high school when it was just the two of us together. It caught me off guard for a half-second before I was able to smile and clasp my hand on his shoulder. Maybe this weekend will be a fresh start for us, I thought to myself.

Sam waited patiently for his turn to maul Josh in his trademark little-guy-bear-hug, and looked his muscular body up and down as I stepped back from the encounter. 

“Hulk hug?” He joked, trying his best to wrap his arms around Josh’s broad, solid thorax.

Josh lifted him up and slung him over his shoulder with a single motion, which put Sam’s shorts-straining ass on full display. Josh swung him from side to side, his ass cheeks swaying in the air like two bouncy orbs. Sam’s shirt rode up during the antics, and I took notice for the first time a small but definite pudginess to the south of Sam’s belly button. I put two and two together, realizing Sam had probably put on a few lbs since the beginning of the summer, and I filed it away as something to watch for later that day. Josh finally released Sam from his shoulder by placing his hand directly onto the jostling globes of Sam’s bubble butt, and guided him off of his body and back to the ground.

Sam slapped his back. “You look great man,” he said in a more serious tone, giving Josh the genuine compliment I’m sure he wanted to hear. 

“Thanks man,” Josh said, much more humbly than I’d have thought he would respond. “They really put me through hell up there.”

Just then, I realized Kyle had still not exited the car, and I spun around to see what the hold up has been. I noticed him polishing off a second PB&J, as he reached for a third, tearing it from its Ziploc. Finally, he shoved the door open with his free hand. He took a bite of sandwich as he hoisted himself out of the car, and the shock absorbers breathed a sigh of relief as he stood. His shirt, earlier able to fully cover his gut when standing, now gave way to expose two inches of soft belly flesh on the verge of overhang. The shirt must’ve stopped doing its job somewhere between Kyle’s house, and the two gatorades + two and a half PB&Js that he had inhaled on the way here. 

I noticed Josh notice Kyle from across the driveway, and saw the slightest evil smile flash across his face before a much tamer expression replaced it. Teasingly, he called out across the driveway, “Perma-bulk!”

I got the vibe that Josh was already aware that Kyle had been trying his hand at putting on muscle this summer. Though I’m sure when he had explained to Kyle that bulking takes a concerted effort to eat more food, he underestimated the willpower to eat that Kyle was capable of.

Kyle was slightly indignant but smiled back. “This is nothing! My dad puts on at least 30 lbs before he cuts!”

I cocked an eyebrow and glanced over at Sam. In a look we both silently share our questioning of Kyle’s weight logic. He’s had to have gained 30 lbs at least during the summer, I telepathically communicated to Sam with a look. He seemed to have correctly translated my facial expression as he mirrors it back my way.

Again, though, instead of taking it further or piling on, Josh retreated as Sam did earlier. “You look solid, man. I bet you could take me in an arm wrestle.” 

Kyle took the last bite of his second sandwich and pulled Josh into a tight bro-hug. With a mouthful of PB&J, he responded, “Bet.”

I felt my cock dance in my pants as I watched my two fantasies hugging in the driveway- a tall, hung, muscular stud and a soft, fattening hunk. Kyle’s soft, doughy moobs pressed into Josh’s hard, boulder-like pecs. His big jiggly stomach smashed into the side of Josh’s solid, washboard set of abs. Kyle’s belly rested so low and poked out so far that as they hugged, it noticeably shifted Josh’s bulge. I could make out the outline of Josh’s egg-sized balls, displaced by Kyle’s nearly-overhanging gut. I adjusted my cock in my pants to hide my growing erection, and noticed Sam turning towards the car. “Lets go get wet, bitches.”

I scurried back to the drivers seat, mainly to watch both Josh and Kyle jiggling as they walked towards the car. Josh’s pecs and bulge bounced as he walked towards the passenger side, while Kyle’s gut and widening love handles jiggled as he looped around the car. He grabbed another Gatorade and a bag of chips from the backseat. Josh had nestled his firm muscled ass into shotgun, and his thick, tree-trunk thighs pushed his oversized bulge into view. He looked up towards my face, and I quickly diverted my gaze to the back, catching Kyle’s belly shake as he tore open the chip bag, sending the scent of barbecue flavor emanating through the car. 

“You guys have everything you need back there?” I asked as an excuse to watch Kyle shoveling a fistful of chips into his mouth. 

“Myupf,” he says back through a mouthful of chips.

I turned my head back toward the dash and nearly bump my face into Josh’s, who was careening his head around to look at Kyle. “Give me some, I’m staving!” He demanded.

“It is 8:30 in the morning,” Sam observed from next to Kyle, incredulously. Again I shot him a quick glance as Kyle handed over the chip bag to Josh and reached into the grocery bag for a fourth PB&J.

“There’s PB&Js?!” Josh asked excitedly.

“Courtesy of Momma K,” I reply. “She packed 12 for the road, so dig in.” I noticed in the rearview Kyle’s face register that his current sandwich was one over the fair limit for each of us, so I quickly add, “I ate breakfast so I’ll probably only have one, if that.” This seemed to placate Kyle as he happily munched down on the last of sandwich number four.

“Same,” Sam echoed. “Well, actually, I’ll probably have a second.” I heard him reach down into the bag to fish out another PB&J. This surprised me, because it was before 9am and Sam had eaten breakfast and a PB&J already, and was reaching for a second one. My cock basically whimpered as it throbbed hard in my pants for the fifth time in a few hours. I imagined the extra calories going straight to Sam’s bubble butt, causing it to grow bigger and plumper. I fantasized about how much rounder, bouncier and fatter his ass would begin to look if he gained even just 10 lbs.

I smiled then, remembering what else was below the sandwiches in the grocery bag. “I think there are some Wegman’s chocolate chip cookies too.”

Josh’s hips twisted toward me as his head turned towards the back, immediately rummaging through the bag to find the carton of cookies. This gave me a wonderful side view of his athletic shorts pulled taut by powerful legs, a meaty ass, and a tremendous dick bulge. He pulled the cookies out victoriously, took three for himself, and passed them around to Kyle and Sam. By the time they got back to Josh, more than half of the 24 pack of cookies was gone. He offered the package to me as I drove, and I pulled one from the carton. One can’t hurt, I thought, glancing in my rearview to see Sam double fisting two cookies in each hand, and Kyle balancing a stack of eight cookies on his meaty thigh.

The sounds of munching and alternative music filled the car as I drove. I was stealing glances at Josh, now on his third PB&J and midway through the bag of chips, his bulging muscly body filling out the passenger seat, and his hefty bulge – could it have gotten bigger? – bouncing in between his thighs with each bump in the road. I glanced again at Kyle through my rearview, his belly looking even more tremendous and starting to grow rounder. He polished off the final cookie in his stack and reached into the carton for more, obviously forgetting that the eight he already had were more than his fair share. I noticed he had unbuttoned his shorts, and the exposed sag of belly below his belly button now escaped his shirt even when sitting down.

I caught sight of Sam, hand absentmindedly playing with the crotch of his athletic shorts, go for the final PB&J in the bag. On top of all of these wonderful visuals, the thought of his bubble butt growing in size and tearing through the seat of his underwear got me even hornier. My cock pulsed through my pants even more, the sexiness of each of my best friends becoming more apparent as we drove. I felt the beginnings of precum ooze into my boxer briefs. This was going to be a better trip than I bargained for.

…

[starryandersen]

ok so I have this idea for the longest time please hear me out. brandon/adam (I’m lost but u can’t tell me you aren’t as well) both of them are hockey players but Brandon is secretly an acclaimed author (zach hyman vibe) and his latest book is an experiment with poetry and of couse it’s about Adam, can’t blame the guy. BUT imagine when somehow the secret is revealed and Adam gets suspicious after all of his friends tell him to read it and he caves in and reads all of Brandon’s books.

(pt. 2) AND he finds out he somehow always ends up being an important character in every single one, but full on freaks out when he realises the whole book of love poems are describing HIM! anyway that’s all I’ve got but it fits well with 33.hide so I’m curious about what are your feelings about this

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yes yes YES i love it! i agree brandon/adam have stolen my heart and this is such a lovely trope. i’m such a slut for the dramatiques so this is wonderful. i hope you don’t mind if i write a little smth for it, since it really DOES fit so well with 33 :)

33) hide

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 Seriously, when Brandon had come out as this Y/A writer, it kind of rocks the whole team’s world. Of course, it was never that they found Brandon incapable of being a writer, but it certainly in a million years would never have been anyone’s guess at his secret talent. Between all of the stress baking and hockey, everyone had been baffled as to where he had found the time to write whole fucking novels. Especially when, in the thick of the season, the common perception is that Brandon and Adam have a combined total braincells of negative four. They tend to be associated with each other.

 Mark is the first one to finish reading the bulk of Brandon’s repertoire, two novels and his latest publication, a poetry book, and as soon as he’s done, he’s leaving the books in Adam’s stall with a little post-it note telling him that he has to read it.

 Adam has never been a big reader, admittedly, he had relied on SparkNotes religiously all through school and wasn’t one to read for pleasure. However, he really is curious to see what Brandon even wrote about, and he was eager to be a supportive friend. He picks up the first book on an off-day where Brandon had obligations and couldn’t be around to entertain him, so he curls up on the couch and reads while listening to the rain thump against the windows in a slow pattern. He finishes it before dinner, wrapped up in every single word spinning off the page, building an entirely different universe inside his modern apartment. Adam can hear Brandon’s voice in each word, telling of his protagonist’s adventures.

 It’s kind of fun, Adam realizes, as he uncovers relationships between the side characters and their teammates, it feels like a private look into the story that Brandon’s other readers wouldn’t get. Something unnecessarily warm settles in between his ribs. One of the characters, the one who actually holds the key to the climax of the story and is far more important than the reader would have been expecting, is based off of him, he thinks. Adam only puts it together at the end. The way Brandon describes him, things that Adam wouldn’t think to notice about himself even, makes the heat build in the tips of his ears. He finishes the book and slams it closed, dropping it onto the coffee table with a pounding heart, and goes for a run to process it all. It’s oddly flattering.

 “I read your book, the one about the spies.” He tells Brandon, one day over lunch, taking a bite of his sandwich like it hadn’t unearthed a whole plethora of repressed feelings that Adam hadn’t though would resurface. Brandon goes pink in the cheeks, stirring his soup with his spoon.

 “You can read?” Brandon bites back, but the anxiety under the flat, sarcastic lilt of his voice is easy for Adam to pick out. He worries his bottom lip between his teeth, watching him carefully across the table through dark eyelashes. The dim, yellowed light is casting perfect shadows over his face and makes him look unfairly good. Brandon always looks unfairly good. Adam kicks him under the table.

 “Shut up, asshole. I was gonna say that I really liked it.” He defends mildly, through a smile. Brandon catches his foot between his ankles, and keeps it there. Adam doesn’t make any struggle to pull away. “My favorite was Andrew, naturally.” Brandon goes a dark red, eyes widening and returning to the perpetual hooded look that they always seem to have so fast that Adam thinks he might’ve imagined it. He steels his expression and shakes his head.

 “Narcissist.” He sighs, and Adam retaliates with another kick to the calf with his free foot. Brandon laughs, and scoops baked carrots and peas into his mouth.

Adam starts on the poetry book last, which takes him the longest. It’s a combination of the hustle and bustle of the season as it progresses, and the required amount of brainpower it takes to understand poetry. Adam has never been a poetry guy, but there’s something in Brandon’s words that roll off the page like silk and breeze through his chest like a breath of fresh air. They’re shockingly emotional, more than Brandon has showed in person during all of their years of friendship combined. It’s beautiful.

They’re flowery and reflective and simple, but the ones that stick with Adam the most are the heartbreaking stanzas of unrequited love. Brandon does say in the forethought that not all of the poems are of personal experience, but these feel so real that it’d be near impossible to fabricate them. The one he’s stuck on at the moment is one of these pages that tug at the heart strings and make Adam a little dizzy. He’s sat against the headboard with the book in his lap as he tries to make sense of it. Brandon exits the shower, perfect and naked and dripping pearls of water that absorb into the towel around his waist, and flushes all over when his eyes land on Adam. The pink spreads deliciously down his chest and Adam wants to bite him.

 “Shit, don’t read that around me.” Brandon grumbles, moving towards his suitcase to dig out some clean clothes. Adam reluctantly averts his gaze and discards the book onto the bedside table.

 “It’s- you don’t have to feel weird about it, or anything. You’re really good, man. I didn’t know you had all of those emotions in there.” Adam tells him, tapping his own chest. Brandon shrugs, pulling a shirt over his head that falls loosely over his shoulders, baggy around the elbows. He drops down onto the bed next to him and Adam pretends not to stare at the way his thighs strain against the fabric of his briefs. “I mean, shit. Those love poems, wow. She must’ve really broken your heart. Why didn’t you ever tell me?” The pronouns feels awkward and bitter rolling off of his tongue and he doesn’t know why. It leaves his chest aching.

 “Yeah, uh, I don’t know. Kind of sucks to bring up, you know? It never could’ve worked.” Brandon pauses, hauling a slow breath through his nose. “He’s too good for me anyway.” Adam blinks, trying to process the words coming from the other side of the bed. He suddenly feels all turned around.

 “Brandon I’m- fuck, I’m sorry. That’s shitty. No way he was too good for you, though. You’re-” Perfect, he wants to say. “-great.” He drops a hand to the side of his face, stroking his thumb gently over Brandon’s jaw. The pad of his thumb just barely grazes the corner of his lips. “Who-”

 “They’re about you, Adam.” Brandon says at the same time, squeezing his eyes shut. He sounds like he’s swallowing around a golf ball stuck in his throat and his face is turning a splotchy pink. Adam’s hand stills, heart stopping. There’s just no way, no way that someone could wax so poetic about him like that. Especially not his teammate, his liney, his best friend. He feels like he can’t breathe, the only thing grounding him is the sounds of the mattress creaking as Brandon sits up. Finally Adam’s brain starts working again, he reaches out to grab his wrist.

 “You fucking sap,” is all he’s able to get out before he’s pulling Brandon in for a bruising kiss, hands holding on like he’s the most precious thing in Adam’s world. He probably is.

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