#Golf cart comparisons

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Golf carts are a popular way to get around the golf course, especially for older golfers or those with limited mobility. They are also a great way to save time and energy, as you don't have to walk the entire course.

There are a variety of golf carts available on the market, from basic models to those with all the bells and whistles. Some golf carts even have GPS systems and Bluetooth speakers.

What are the benefits of owning a golf cart?

There are many reasons benefits to why you need a golf cart as a golfer, including:

Convenience: Golf carts make it easy to get around the course, especially for older golfers or those with limited mobility.

Speed: Golf carts can help you save time by allowing you to travel between holes quickly.

Comfort: Golf carts provide a comfortable ride, especially on hot days.

Enjoyment: Golf carts can add to the enjoyment of your golfing experience.

How to choose a golf cart

When choosing a golf cart, it is important to consider the following factors:

Price: Golf carts range in price from a few thousand dollars to over $20,000.

Features: Some golf carts come with features such as GPS systems, Bluetooth speakers, and USB ports.

Size: Golf carts come in a variety of sizes, so it is important to choose one that is the right size for your needs.

Brand: There are a number of different golf cart brands on the market, so it is important to do your research and choose one that has a good reputation.

How to use a golf cart

Golf carts are easy to use. Simply turn on the key, press the accelerator pedal, and steer. Most golf carts also have a reverse pedal and a brake pedal.

Golf cart safety tips

Here are a few golf cart safety tips:

Always wear a seatbelt.

Drive slowly and carefully.

Be aware of your surroundings.

Don't drink and drive.

Where to buy a golf cart

Golf carts can be purchased from a variety of retailers, including golf cart dealerships, online retailers, and big-box stores.

Conclusion

Golf carts are a fun and easy way to get around the golf course. They are a great way to save time and energy, and they can add to the enjoyment of your golfing experience.

[joeloverture]

hook 'em horny | j.m. x f!reader

masterlist : coach!joel masterlist pairing: college football coach!joel miller x reader summary: [no outbreak] seeking petty revenge on your cheating quarterback ex-boyfriend leads you somewhere you shouldn't be — and then it lands you over the knee of his coach. warnings: (18+ mdni, don't make me say it again.) cheating done by a referenced oc, briefest mention of drugs, porn barely garnished with plot, age gap (22/52), smut, unprotected piv sex, creampie, vaginal fingering, potentially dubcon by way of power imbalance but consent is enthusiastic, daddy kink, sir kink, 'punishment' spanking, degradation, praise, brat tamer!joel, dom!joel, joel spits on her ass but otherwise no butt stuff, mild choking, body writing, so many pet names of so many varieties, aftercare, surprisingly fluffy [no use of y/n] word count: 6.4k a/n: this is a crazy idea to have considering joel can hardly handle ellie. i don't think he'd be able to handle ~118 college-aged boys. however, the idea of football coach! joel is hot to me (i mean, seriously, look at those sluts on the sidelines) so i made it happen. on a serious note, i am so sorry to the unnamed university this is based on. i toured you. i'm legacy. but... joel miller. let's make it clear this is for entertainment purposes only. this is a fictional work about fictional people that does not reflect the school itself, which is a fine institution whose head coaches historically do not fuck students in the locker rooms. shoutout to my dad who, unknowing what this information would be used for, explained to me how he snuck into this stadium 3x. don't do that, either.

You can’t even remember the last time you made a good decision.

Your track record definitely isn’t the cleanest: you chose to go to school in Texas, and then chose to stay there for four years. Choosing to go to that frat party in late junior year wasn’t your brightest moment, either, evidenced by the resulting hangover from hell and, predictably, frat flu. All things considered, those choices pale in comparison to hooking up with their all-star quarterback, Lucas Scott.

Dirty-blonde, blue-eyed, muscled Lucas Scott. He’s the sort of guy who looks like an eight when you’re looking at him after a few shots of tequila and a four when you’re sober. The sort of guy who, after over a year of dating, makes you split the bill halfway after ordering the more expensive entree. Crowned as the most efficient, precise, and instinctive quarterback the Longhorns have ever had. Apparently that instinct hadn’t been enough to drive him away from dipping his wick in every sorority girl’s candle wax. 

No matter how much post-orgasm Lucas panted into his ear that he loved you, you weren’t stupid enough to trick yourself into believing it. Staying with him was the easier choice, not yet wanting to reduce yourself to locker room talk. Walking in on him sloppily fucking some redhead nursing major was the breaking point. When it became less about you and more about your dignity.

So, yeah, you’ve never been one for making good decisions, and you certainly aren’t about to start now.

You thought breaking into the stadium would be some sort of monumental task. Trespassing here was normally reserved for campus rooftops and after-hours exploration, but once you’d gotten this batshit crazy idea in your head, you knew it wasn’t going to shake until you at least proved it couldn’t be done.

The open garage at the back of the building doesn’t help to deter you. It’s like there’s a welcome-mat outside saying, ‘Come on in and get what you deserve!’.

Who would you be to decline such a sincere invitation?

The garage is empty apart from some cushy golf carts, and the steel door behind them couldn’t be more tempting. If it’s locked, you tell yourself, you’ll go back to the dorm and forget about your incident of near-trespassing. 

You take small steps to the door, testing the handle. It springs right open, and all thoughts of leaving dissipate from your mind.

Who leaves the garage open and forgets to lock the door? Probably people with just as little between their ears (and legs) as Lucas. You scoff in half-disbelief, half-luck as you close the door behind you.

The energy feels stagnant this late at night, no announcer on the loudspeaker or swarms of burnt orange hats and T-shirts standing shoulder-to-shoulder. Industrial lights flicker above, their hums loud enough to make you wonder if you have tinnitus. Concrete lines the hallways, interrupted by a few silver-painted pipes arranged in a labyrinth up against the walls. A few security cameras are pointed at you. Before going any further, you pause to raise the hood of your Longhorns sweatshirt.

Even if you should be, you aren’t in much of a rush; you amble about, really taking in the sterile ambiance of the empty stadium. You turn a few corners, going in what feels like the right direction. You figure you’re getting closer when you spot what looks like it could be a security tower. Crouching behind a trash can, you wait it out, trying to peer through the untinted windows to figure out if there’s anyone in there at all. When you’ve determined it’s unmanned and let out a shallow exhale, you go back up to full posture and keep wandering around unsupervised.

You know you’re in the right place when you find your toes hovering over a red line painted on the oil-stained concrete: AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY BEYOND THIS POINT. 

Bingo.

Crossing that line without really thinking about it, you stick to your (so far) tried and true method of going wherever feels the most promising until you’re standing in front of the two black doors you were looking for. The door’s handle is an obnoxiously large longhorn, and you quite literally have to hook ‘em to get inside.

You’re starting to understand where the rest of the university’s funding is going when you walk into the locker room. After dating Lucas for a year, you know the football team is full of itself, but the Longhorniness of it all is… excessive. There’s the silhouette of the logo glowing on the goddamn ceiling, and if the jerseys the players are wearing on their digital nameplates isn’t enough of an indicator of who they play for, every backlit locker has a drawer with, you guessed it: a longhorn painted at the center. A brown vinyl couch wraps around the front of the room in direct view of a powered down videoboard that you can only assume replays highlight reels.

You roll your eyes. Again, your track record with decision-making isn’t the best, because you chose a school who puts every penny towards sweaty frat boys with brain damage from the amount of concussions they get.

And then you see it: a sign tacked onto the middle aisle of lockers that reads CORE VALUES. From top to bottom, HONESTY, TREAT WOMEN WITH RESPECT, NO DRUGS, NO STEALING, and NO WEAPONS. You have to physically clamp your jaw shut to restrict your laughter at the second one.

It doesn’t take you long to find what you’re looking for. Lucas Scott, #10.

His sweat-stained jersey hangs limply from the rack, and you eagerly tear it off, tossing it down onto the floor. Eager like a child ready to color outside the lines of a coloring book, you kneel down in front of it, pulling out the one thing you had prepared for tonight. A bold black Sharpie.

You pop the cap with your teeth, spitting it out somewhere on the floor as you start scribbling. Disguising your handwriting isn’t intentional, but you’re writing so carelessly and on such a foreign material that it comes naturally. Your tongue sticks out of the corner of your mouth as you work. In a year and a half, you’d never felt such satisfaction about — and certainly not from  — Lucas.

TWO PUMP CHUMP along the side. FIVE INCHES FULL MAST on the other. CHEATER at the bottom. WHORE across the front.

A throat clears behind you. You drop the Sharpie, a blot of ink forming on the mesh. You startle backwards, scooting until your back hits that stupid longhorn drawer. You’re expecting a janitor, maybe a security guard if you’re extra unlucky. 

That isn’t the worst of your options, apparently, because when you look up, it’s at Joel fucking Miller, head coach of the longhorn’s football team.

Your lower lip starts trembling, and that moment is when you decide maybe you need to start making good decisions. You’ve heard enough about Joel from Lucas to know he’s a total hardass. He could drag you by the ear to the dean and have you kicked out at the tail end of your second to last semester in this hellhole.

He glares down at you with his head cocked, hazel eyes far darker than they ever seem on TV. His scruff stipples his hardened jawline, lips thinned out like the worry lines pressed onto his forehead. If you were interested in digging yourself any deeper, you might stall to think about how good he looks: the faint trail of chest hair vanishing down into the neckline of his longhorns polo shirt, his fitted khakis, broad leather belt slung around his waist, and the slight bulge of tummy above it. You swallow hard and kick yourself for it.

“What exactly,” Coach Miller drawls, voice syrupy and sticky. “do ya think you’re doin’?”

Your mouth moves, but no words come out. He doesn’t seem very amused, his muscled arms crossing over his wide torso.

Joel shakes his head. “Ain’t a good look for you, hun, scrawlin�� that chicken scratch all over my QB’s jersey. Could get a real ugly charge for that.”

Heart crashing into your ribcage, you bite down on your lip. “I can pay the damages,” you blurt out.

He sizes you up all over again, eyes dragging up and down your body. They linger on your chest for a few extra seconds that you’re convinced that you just made up. “Can you, sugar? ‘Cause to me, looks like you’re the type to be chasin’ tips at whatever joint hires you.”

You don’t have the bandwidth to be as offended as you should be, especially because he’s right. You settle for glowering at him instead. A huff of laughter pinches out of him. “You give everyone you vandalize that blue look? Or is that lil’ number jus’ because you found out Lucas really ain’t that loyal?” With ease, Joel bulldozes over whatever thinning resolve you have remaining. 

“What’s that sign over there say? ‘Treat women with respect’?” You say. Joel’s backlit like all of those over budgeted lockers behind him. You squint your eyes. “You know that’s fucking bullshit. So what if I give him a taste of his own medicine when he’s been a minute man for every girl with a pulse on this campus?” You cap your Sharpie and clip it back onto your collar and get to your feet. So much for good decisions. “Fuck right off with that.”

“Hey, hey. Down, hun.” Joel holds his hands out to you, and you notice just how heavily you’ve been breathing, just how close you are to him. “Never said you were wrong. Kid’s a fuck up in all sorts ‘a ways. But I don’t like how you’re mouthin’ off at me, Miss Priss. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re in dire need of a spankin’ to set you right.”

Your breath cuts short and your cunt bottoms out without your permission. You don’t need a mirror to know your eyes just went glassy, your lips parted as your mouth goes desert dry. As discreetly as you can manage, you squeeze your thighs together.

Joel doesn’t miss it. You can tell from the moment his brows raise and his eyes sparkle, the corner of his mouth picking up a smidge. “Oh, yeah? That do somethin’ for ya, hun? Nasty little girl.” There’s a dangerous, uneven grit to his voice that has arousal burning like a candle in your stomach, the wax of your arousal syrupy against your thighs already. 

Your tongue darts out to wet your lips. Fuck.

“No,” you breathe out stubbornly, but you’ve already given yourself away, even to yourself. The insides of your thighs are molten, twitching with every throb of your clit between your legs. That flush of warmth from your pelvis is spreading, overheating.

Joel tuts. “You really think that? You can whine all you want ‘bout wantin’ respect, but at the end ‘a the day, you just wanna be treated like some whore, huh?” And, yeah, he has you figured out, has you in the palm of his hand. Even though you have no idea what someone like him could do to someone like you, you want him to do it. You want to find out. “I’ll tell ya what, sugar, you walk outta here right now and nobody but me’s gonna know you came pitchin’ a hissy fit in my locker room.”

You frown at that, a small arc of your pouty lips that has Joel’s eyes gleaming.

“Or,” he says. “You can pull those wet fuckin’ panties down – don’t gimme that look, I know they are – and I can give ya a real lesson in respect.” He shrugs, hands going to his waist as he looks you up and down.

He knows he has you the same way you know, but you aren’t just going to give in that easily. You flare your nose and counter, “If there’s nothing keeping me here other than a firm hand, why should I stay?”

He’s looking at you like he wants to take you apart. His fingers jump against his hips for the opportunity to break you down. 

“Sweetness,” Joel shakes his head as if it’s obvious. “if you let me, I could make you feel good. I’m guessin’ you got some vibrator sittin’ in the back of your desk drawer to use when your roommate’s out ‘n about, but you don’t wanna use that tonight, do ya? You want the real thing, hun, and I’d give it to ya real nice once I teach ya to behave.”

There it is again: Coach Joel Miller has you all figured out. Every syllable he says is doomed to send another shiver up your spine, and damn it, fuck playing coy.

You’re too busy tearing off your hoodie to think about how unsexily dressed you are, but the rushed nature of your actions punches a chuckle out of Joel. “Eager thing.” You’re halfway through kicking your shoes and leggings off when he saunters over to the couch, plopping down on the edge and patting his broad, khaki-covered thigh. Your mouth waters when you look back and see just how much the fabric strains against his leg. “Whenever you’re ready, hun.”

You waddle over to him, stripped down to the basics of your sports bra and everyday panties. It’s the furthest thing from erotic, but the way he’s looking at you isn’t. It’s primal and ravenous, enough to have you forgetting all about how you’d even gotten there in the first place. He licks his lips as he trails his eyes all over you, darkening a couple of shades when he looks at your cleavage. “Lucas is a fuckin’ idiot, baby.”

“Knew that already,” you mumble.

He pats his thigh again, bounces his leg. “C’mon, over my knee like the good girl I know you can be. Hurry up and I’ll only give ya five.”

You shuffle forward, relishing in the rubbing of your thighs that comes from it. He’s sitting on the corner of the couch at the perfect angle for you to rest your head on the arm. It doesn’t take any more convincing for you to put yourself over his lap, not that he needed to do much in the first place. You feel so much smaller than him. Your ass is up for him to do whatever he’d like to; it’s a tantalizing feeling you hadn’t gotten out of any intimacy – if you could call it that — with Lucas.

“Mmmmmm,” Joel groans as he runs a hand between your legs. He rubs at your slit through the soaked gusset of your panties. You can’t stop the way your hips buck, or the pitiful shout that jumps off your lips when he pins you down by the small of your back, robbing you of any friction. Between one arousal-riddled breath and the next, Joel tugs your panties off and flings them to the side. You know how it feels, tacky and cold on your core and thighs, so you can only imagine how it must look. Joel gives you a pretty good idea when he reveres, “Goddamn, pretty cunt is throbbin’ for it.”

He pulls apart your folds and you think you hear him lick his lips above you before he lets them go. The schlick noise your dripping pussy makes is nothing less than pornographic. Joel gropes you carefully, kneads the skin of your ass like you have all the time in the world. Under his ministrations, it’s easy to melt into the couch, forgetting why you’re there in the first place until his palm cracks down on your ass cheek.

The stinging impact has a slurred hnnnngh leaving your lips, and a fresh gush of wetness between your legs to accompany it. You keep your head tucked into the sanctuary of your folded arms, eyes squeezed shut so tight you swear you’re seeing stars. Joel’s quick to rub the spanked patch of skin, his palm soothing his ache. “That’s one, baby.” You nod into your arms. “Think you can take four more?” Another nod.

“I need to hear ya, hun. C’mon, head up f’me.” He taps the side of your cheek, and you prop your cheek up on your forearm. “Think you can take four more?” he repeats.

Your voice hitches, courtesy of the beating that echoes in your chest and between your legs. “Y-yes…” 

When the second hit lands, you don’t expect it. You flinch away from his hand when it comes down with a clap that leaves you squirming in his lap. “Yes, what?”

“Yes sir,” you whine out, back arching. Although a punishment, that spank has the same effect as the last: a live wire of arousal strung from your spine to your cunt.

“Takin’ it well,” he praises, squeezing your ass cheeks together. “Sure didn’t expect anyone to come crawlin’ in when I left that garage open, ‘specially not some slut like you with an ass that needs a spankin’ six ways to Sunday.” Just as quick as he can build you up, he can take you down a notch, but you can’t mind when it has you moaning all the same. “Oh, she likes that,” Joel clicks.

He rubs your ass again, and you’re bracing yourself for that next strike, pulled stiff with an arousing, anticipatory sort of fear. Only when you convince yourself it isn’t coming do you let all of that tension flood out of your body — and that’s when Joel smacks his hand across your far-too-trustworthy ass.

You cry out, pouting over your shoulder at Joel, who has a proud smirk drawn all over his face. You don’t even feel your hips rocking down, seeking whatever pleasure you can get until he reprimands, “Ruttin’ against my fuckin’ leg, now, huh? Don’t pretend you don’t like this.”

With a particularly good grind of your hips, you feel his bulge pressing into your thigh. From a mere graze alone, you can tell it’s huge. A whimper tears out of you at the same time he groans above you. “You got nothin’ to prove, ain’t gonna change the fact you’re a slut who needs to get spanked ‘n stuffed to talk ‘er into behavin’ a bit.”

“Can’t even follow your own rules,” you huff, apparently still interested in shooting yourself in the foot even when Coach Miller has you ass-up over his knee. 

“Don’t see how you care…” Joel slides a hand down between your legs. He rubs at your clit, an intense pressure that has you wanting more and less all at the same time, before dragging a thick finger across your opening. Arousal squelches between your legs and your hips jump – a dead giveaway to just how turned on you are, whether you like it or not. “when it gets you this turned on,” he finishes. Then that same finger is prodding at your mouth, glistening with your wetness. You whimper before tasting yourself, sucking obediently on his finger until he pulls away with a pop.

You sulk, “Don’t act like I can’t feel you ripping a hole in your jeans, Miller–”

The fourth spank is the hardest by far. The skin of your ass feels bitten by Joel’s ‘firm hand’. It’s the kind of hit that makes your legs kick in his lap and your fingers clutch in the couch’s arm for purchase. You wail, “Daddy!” Pain disappears from your mind when you realize what exactly you just said, quickly replaced by the churning coolant of embarrassment. If you were paying attention to anything else other than the shame suddenly inhabiting your chest, you might’ve been able to feel the twitch of his cock in his pants.

“Daddy, huh?” Joel hums, rubbing your hurt ass with one hand while the other strokes your shoulder. You bury your face back in your arms as an apology takes shape in the back of your throat. “Lucas your daddy, too?”

“No!” You squeak, adjusting in his lap. The hood of your clit catches on the rough material of Joel’s pants. Unable to stop yourself, you hump his knee again, shallow rolls of your hips. You can still feel his hardness against you. Needily, you tip your head up, panting as foggy pleasure hangs over your head. 

“Stop makin’ a mess of daddy’s dress pants, baby, unless you wanna be on your knees, lickin’ it up.” You keen, and he chuckles knowingly. “Shoulda known, little whore like you gets off on that.” 

Joel gives you a longer reprieve between the fourth and fifth spank. Instead, he strokes your ass and asks, “One more gonna be enough to set you straight, sweetheart?”

“Y..yes daddy,” you whimper. He hums in approval.

You shift back and forth, waiting for it to come — and when it does, it’s softer. It’s by no means a love pat, but it pales in comparison to his previous work. You still sniffle, squeezing your thighs together as he coos, “I know, I know. Poor baby, actin’ all high ‘n mighty. Can’t be on her high horse when she’s over Daddy’s knee.” Gentle, he pats your ass and guides you on all fours at the edge of the couch. He hums in approval. “See? Not throwin’ a hissy fit anymore. She’s all nice ‘n obedient when you get ‘er to act right.”

Joel spreads your pussy with his thumbs, and you hear the vulgar noise of him collecting his saliva before you feel his spit landing on your clenching hole. You’ve never felt so empty, not when your bottom drawer vibrator is buzzing against your core, definitely not when Lucas fucks you in the same old missionary. Whimpering for him, you arch your back to try to rub against his crotch.

“Quit your whinin’,” he snips, his thumb finding your clit in one swipe. Joel’s touch is firm, but not too firm, just enough to make your hips push down with a need only he’s ever made you feel. 

Without warning, his middle finger slides inside of you, thick and calloused and so, so right. “Fuckin’... tight.” Another slides in as he starts scissoring you open, apparently satisfied enough when he crooks his fingers deep in your cunt. Instantly, he catches that spongy spot that you can never reach on your own. You nearly crumple with the sensation, limbs going weak and buckling. “That the spot?” he asks, but he already knows.

“Mhm,” you moan, chin instinctively tucking against your chest as if you can get away from the pleasure he’s giving you, as if you’d ever want to.

Then — he stops.

His fingers sit heavy inside of you, so close to where you need them to go. “What the fuck, Joel?” 

"Baby, s’that how you get what you want?” He rubs your thigh with his free hand and gives it a quick swat. “Help daddy out, tight girl. I'm not just gonna let you get away with bein’ a spoiled brat. Work yourself on my fingers."

You’re putty in the palm of his hand – malleable, docile for him to treat or mistreat you however gets him hard. You whine, punching your hips back nonetheless. Grinding down, down, down, your cunt unresisting when he gives you another finger. It’s crude, the way you moan for him.

Even though he’s hardly doing anything, just the hand you’re getting yourself off on, that all-consuming strain in your body only gets stronger. “Daddy – close, please…”

 “Attagirl, atta-fuckin’-girl, give it to me.” He rewards you with a press of his fingers against that golden spot inside of you. Your orgasm splinters through you, an ecstasy-charged mist fanning over your body. Your release runs down Joel’s hand and your thighs with every clench of your cunt, like you’ve been skinned and set ablaze by your own desire. You fall forward on the couch, no longer able to hold yourself up, arms a tangled mess as you gasp into the cushion. “You come so pretty, baby. Messy pussy, too. Soaked me up to my goddamn elbow.”

You’re still reeling from the best orgasm you’ve had in months, maybe ever, when you hear obscene slurping noises from behind you. You cast a look at him, your arousal returning with a vigor at the sight of Joel sucking his fingers clean. He groans at the taste, and you swear you see his cock jump in his khakis. Stomach warped with desire, you’re about to plummet off of the very dangerous edge of doing just about anything for him right now.

“Please fuck me, daddy,” you plead, and in any other position, with any other person, it might be mortifying, something worth clutching your pearls over. But this is Coach Joel Miller, the last person you ever expected to be fucking, giving you the best fuck you never expected.

“There’s those manners,” Joel praises, leaning over you to press a brief kiss to your shoulder blade. You can smell your release on his lips, a sweet smell that’s so distinctly you. He eases off of you, presumably to take off his pants. There’s the shuffling of fabric, and when he returns to your side, you’re disappointed to find he hasn’t even unbuckled his belt.

You pout at him again, still desperate to get your way. Eye-level with his bulge, you’re salivating over it. You had made a mess of his dress pants, a wet spot formed just above his knee, taunting you. You lick your lips. 

“Think it’s only fair,” he says, looming over you. He’s holding the Sharpie you’d brought along with you. Your brows furrow as you look up at him through your lashes. “If I give ya the same treatment you gave his jersey.” His gaze is cocky as he pops the cap with his thumb, giving the marker a twirl.

Oh.

It shouldn’t turn you on as much as it does. Nothing about this should turn you on as much as it does, yet here you are, in a puddle of your own sweat and cum, itching for the next thing he gives you. And if it’s marking up your body before he fucks your brains out, so be it.

He nudges his head, gesturing for you to get down on your stomach. You lift your knees up and flatten yourself out on the cushions. The vinyl sticks and pulls from your skin as you get where he wants you. A soft, surprised noise leaves you when he straddles your thighs, his clothed cock nudging at your seam.

“Holy fuck,” you breathe out, because it’s the only phrase you can think of that even holds a candle to what all of this has become. 

A laugh fans out from under his breath as he starts at your freshly spanked, raw ass. The Sharpie is cold and foreign, tugging at your skin as he inks you up. “Gotta make sure you match before I dick you down, don’t I? What is it you wrote on his jersey? ‘Whore’? Between the two ‘a ya, I woulda put my money on you for that one.”

If that wasn’t enough indication, you figure out what he’s doing by the time he gets to the right cheek, what feels like an ‘R’ taking shape across your ass. He finishes the ‘E’ and sets down the Sharpie for a moment, his meaty palms spreading your ass. It still thrums with the afterglow of his spanking. You don’t think you can throb any more than you already are, but then he spits on you for the second time that night, this time landing it on your puckered asshole. A gasp flutters from your lips as you grind down into the couch, his spit dripping down your folds.

“See? Real whorish, fuckin’ my couch.” He taps your ass for good measure. “Asshole makes a perfect fuckin’ ‘O’, baby. Looks a whole lot better than that chicken scratch shit you put on his jersey.” You think maybe, just maybe, he’ll dismount you and pull his cock out, but instead he keeps writing, scribbling on your back and upper thighs. Every pull of your skin under the bleeding ink has you aching for him.

When he’s content with his work, he lifts off of you, hands fumbling to undo his belt. It snaps apart, dangling open around his waist as his hands open up his khakis. “You let Lucas fuck that sweet lil’ cunt raw?” he asks.

“No, I don’t,” you admit, unable to tear your eyes away from his cock as he pulls it out, and fuck you. Your eyes don’t even feel big enough to take all of him in, and you have no idea how you’re going to fit him between your legs. You almost go cross-eyed at the sight of it, his head leaking precum.

“Thought so. You gonna let me fuck it raw?”

“Yes, daddy,” you breathe out, drool pooling in your mouth at the thought of having him inside of you, having him inside of you bare. Yet another thing you never gave to Lucas in a year of disappointing sex, but are eagerly giving up to Joel. 

“Gotta be a real nasty slut,” Joel says, returning to his place atop your thighs, his thick ones framing yours. Your breath hitches when you feel the weight of his cock gliding through your ass cheeks and down to your cunt. “to let your ex-boyfriend’s coach bareback ya in the locker room.” A heady gasp tears from you when the head of his cock bumps your clit. He teases you — his cock, slippery with a combination of your arousal, skating from your clit to your spasming opening, not quite nudging in.

“Daddy, please – I need it… need you to fuck me, fuck me–”

He doesn’t make you wait any longer.

When he pushes in, it knocks the air out of your lungs. The only proof that you’re still breathing is when you let out a pitchy, desperate moan. Joel grunts, teeth gritted as he flattens himself down against your spine so he can roll his hips into yours. The pain of his size becomes an afterthought just as quickly as the pain of your spanking, dwarfed by the pleasure he gives you just as easily. 

“Fuuuuck,” Joel groans, nuzzling into the crook of your neck and shoulder. Inch at a time, he works you open, grinding his hips into your opening. “Could you be any goddamn tighter?” He bites at your neck from behind with every rock of his hips into yours until he bottoms out.

“Big,” is all you manage to squeak out as he hauls you back on his cock, already prodding your g-spot with his head. Your eyes roll back as you clench around him. 

His fingers go up to run circles around your shoulder, soothing you, grounding you when his cock has you anything but. “Mmm, I know, I know. You can take it. All whores can.” With that, Joel starts fucking you, really fucking you, a punishing, relentless pace where he pulls out entirely before filling you to the brim. Each snap of his hips into yours fills the locker room with shameless sounds, the mere background to your depraved moans.

“Never had your pussy stretched by a man double your age before, huh?”

“N–no! Never… never had my pussy stretched mu…much at all–”

Joel slams into you, laughs at the strained noise that you make. “Yeah? Those dumbfucks on my team not doin’ it for ya, baby?” You don’t answer, don’t think he’s expecting one until his hand wraps around your front, forearm pressed firm against your tits. His thick hand wraps lightly around your neck, jostling you. It’s not hard enough to blur your vision, but just hard enough to remind you of the power he has over you. The power you allow him to have. It’s invigorating. Everything about him is. 

Moans spurt out of you as you fumble to answer, “No da– daddy! You — ah! — do it for m–me!” 

“And what do you say for that? For goin’ outta my way to show you what a real fuck is?”

“Thank you, Daddy!” you cry out. You’re spilling down his thighs, the wet suction of your pussy around his cock making noises more vulgar than you’ve ever heard in porn.

His hand squeezes again at your neck, and you feel floaty, a bubble just waiting to pop. Pleasure dances in every one of your veins, every nerve ending burning like a match that he keeps striking ablaze.

“There you go, desperate slut just needs a freshly spanked ass, a good dickin’ down, and a hand ‘round her throat to behave.” Joel’s pace stays just as harsh, crushing your g-spot with his cock. “Should keep you back here for when we lose, tie you to the goddamn desk. Let my staff take turns with you, see how much crybaby you have left in ya when a dozen men’s loads are drippin’ outta your reamed fuckin’ cunt. Bet you like it when men use you.” The whine that almost gags you on its way out is enough to confirm it.

If he keeps talking to you and the wind blows the right way on your clit, you know you’ll be coming. You’re wringing out his cock with every flutter of your pulsing pussy. The beginning embers of your orgasm turn into a wildfire when he wedges his free hand down between your legs, rubbing messy circles into your sloppy clit. “Fuck, please, please, please,” you sob out, too riddled with pleasure to care about how pathetic you sound or look as you hump his hand while he pounds you.

“Can feel you squeezin’ me, baby.” Joel rasps, nipping at your ear. The hand around your throat falls fully to your chest, pressing you solid against him so he can fuck deeper, deeper, deeper. It’s enough to make you scream, hands clawing and scratching down his muscular grip on you. “C’mon, hun, give it to me, come on my cock, fuck.”

With another thrust, he has you pushed right down onto his fingers, rubbing and flicking you every which way. It’s all you need to come undone, your second orgasm of the night unlatching through you like something forked and angry, battering your sore limbs until there’s nothing left of it or you. You’re a mess, spit oozing down your chin as you slur “thank you daddy” like a broken record, thighs clamping around nothing.

Joel groans as you clench around his cock and continues his relentless pace, hips slapping against yours. The hand he’d been using to rub your clit migrates to your tits, grazing and then thumbing and then tugging lightly your nipples. “There it is, told ya you could be a good girl. Lettin’ your daddy use this cunt to get off, lettin’ me use you. I’m fuckin’ close, baby, where do you want me?”

And you want it even if you shouldn’t, want his cum deep inside of you, want it to leak out into your panties as you walk back to your dorm. You’re still no good at making decisions, too fucked out to tell right from left when you beg, “I–inside, fuck, come inside me, daddy, please.”

Joel practically growls at that, thrusts losing their steadiness as his hips jump and he hurtles towards his release. “Yeah, you’re a goddamn whore, beggin’ for this cum. And you’re gonna fuckin’ take it, yeah… fuckin’ take it.” He slams all the way into you for the last time before shooting his cum into your cunt, swearing and moaning. Breathing like he’s run a mile, he goes slack on top of you, pets the back of your head while he comes down from the exhilaration of his high.

With a gentle kiss to your shoulder, he rises, and the fantasy is over. His cock slips from your pussy, and you feel hollow with the loss. This is where he tucks himself back into his pants, runs a hand back through his hair, tells you to never show your face in his stadium again, and shoves you out the door.

And he does: tucks his softening cock into his boxers, zips up his khakis, does his belt, tames his post-sex head of hair. You wince even if you expected it, leaning down over the edge of the couch to grab your hoodie, already moving to tug it over your head.

“What do you think you’re doin’?” Joel asks, and his tone sounds much more different than the first time he’d asked you. He sounds offended. You blink confusedly, dazedly at him with your arms halfway through the armholes. “Let me clean you up, hun.” Joel side-steps the pile of your leggings and shoes, adjusting the hoodie on your arms and pulling it down your torso. “I know Lucas ain’t done you right, but you deserve to be taken care of, pretty girl.” Your heart pinches in a way that it shouldn’t, not for a hookup with your ex-boyfriend’s coach.

You shift, and he can’t help but look back between your legs where his cum escapes your hole. He manages to pry his eyes away, but not without licking his lips first. “I’ll be right back, baby. Promise.”

When he’s back, it’s with a damp rag. He crouches down in front of you, taking it to the apex of your thighs and wiping away the combination of your releases, careful not to nudge your sensitive clit. He kisses your thigh gently before pulling back, folding the towel on the arm of the couch you’d been crying into just a few minutes ago.

Joel shimmies your ruined panties up your thighs, followed by your leggings. You let him, breath cut like a snipped wire from the sheer intimacy of it all, intimacy you’d lacked with Lucas even after a year of trying. You’d stayed with him for comfortability at your own expense. How stupid could you have been?

Joel pats your knee, eyes soft and weirdly sincere as he looks at you. “I’m sorry about Lucas, honey, but I meant it when I said you deserve to be taken care of.” He rubs the back of his neck before holding something out to you. A business card, his work number plastered in bold sans-serif font across the bottom. “I know this is in reverse ‘n all, but I’d really like to take you out and treat you right, if you’ll let me.”

Saying yes is your first good decision in a while.

[hyacinthsdiamonds]

I think part of the reason why I find Max and Charles' dynamic so fascinating is because if anybody created original characters with their basic backstory they would be called out for pushing the narrative too hard but it's literally just basic well known facts about them and things we've seen happen, it's insane like

They're born sixteen days apart.

Their star sign is Libra, the sign of balance, equilibrium.

A complete and utter coincidence and Charles of course had his own personal reasons for choosing his number, but his number also happens to be the same about days that separate their birthdays.

They literally grew up racing each other.

They hated each other as kids.

"I am just as good as him/we're equals in experience etc"

The way they talked about each other to journalists and in their blogs while they were karting lmao.

The incident!

The comparisons since the beginning to Senna and Prost, two of the sports goats and one of the greatest rivalry in F1's history.

Max recommended Charles to be his replacement when he left his team to move onto to the next stage.

There's something poetic about them being born in the year of the ox and Max driving for red BULL. Also 2021 in which Max won his first championship was also the year of the ox and I am completely normal about it after just finding out about five minutes ago -

The slowburn of the relationship, lifelong rivals but friends now too.

The way they talk about each other.

The fact they're each other's biggest defenders.

I am sorry but Charles running off track after getting distracted by Max and then hitting his head on a golf cart again after getting distracted by Max is something I expect to see in romcom or a fic but no both of these things actually happened in Abu Dhabi 2021 on the same night lmao.

The fact they don't follow each other on Instagram and yet interact with posts about the other that someone else posted.

The reason why they don't follow each other lmao, I still cackle thinking of Charles - literally on Max's freaking plane going home to Monaco after Austria 2019 - looking over at Max to see if he noticed that he'd unfollowed him.

Max was known as the inevitable. Charles is the predestined one. Like hello?!!!

There's more but like??!!! The fact this is real life and not a movie is insane sometimes - Guess it's true what they say, truth is stranger than fiction

[scooby-snacs]

Marauders Modern Sport/Activity Edition 101 Comparison

did anyone ask for this? no. am i going to haphazardly tell anyone in a random post on a very mundane Saturday anyway? abso-freaking-lutely.

James Potter - ICE HOCKEY

he makes the calls, he keeps the team together in the dressing room. he’s the first one on the ice and the last one to leave. he power skated in his youth to know his blades more like an extension to him. through losses and wins he keeps it upbeat, he knows when to call it. he pulls the fancy spins the quick turns the digging and battles at boards and around the net. he’s always the first to pass rather than going in for a one timer. he gets nearly triple the amount of assists than he does goals, not because he can’t get the shot and the buzzer singing from the net, but because he doesn’t need the stats. He’s here to play, as a team not as a sole person.

SIDE NOTE: see CONNOR MCDAVID

Sirius Black - ICE HOCKEY

he knows his edges, he can weave and spin with the best. He’s the one to pull a stop out of nowhere and go scrambling in the next direction. likewise he isn’t afraid to be a hard hitter to smash an opponent into the boards to pull a man off his teammate at the net. he looks after the team, he’s the big brother- the protector and the defender but sometimes he does it a little to well and finds himself spending more time than necessarily helpful in the sin-bin. he’s the brutality of the sport, but also the art of it. he energized the team by getting them going when they’re down and has a killer slap shot. he might not call the plays on the ice, but he’s the one to keep the plays alive.

SIDE NOTE: see QUINN HUGHES

Remus Lupin - COURT VOLLEYBALL

great setter, always calculating the game, and trusting his players to get the ball across the net. able to land the last hit and direct to the available uncovered sections across the court. likewise a very powerful and well-aimed serve could be the end all to the game. he controls the game how hard they hit and how fast the pace. it’s delicate but not outwardly so unless he makes it such. he likes the control it gives him, that he makes decisions, that he has choices.

Peter Pettigrew - GOLF

high points are a blunder and he likes the high stakes game. it’s the type of sport where the goal is to play less to win. which is just Peter’s speed. likewise it’s something recreationally that allows him to mess around in a golf cart and take the boys out for a Sunday afternoon with some refreshments like beer in the cooler and take part in a more domestic game of it that he would lovingly refer to as “whack-&-dash”

Regulus Black - FIGURE SKATING (ice dancing) & BALLET

was in ballet as a child until he came to the realization that his feet didn’t have the natural arches that better yourself for the sport, late into ice skating it soon became more apparent that he could still retain his artistic routes but ‘wow’ on the ice much like Sirius. he was naturally gifted at knowing his blades, they were like a second extension to him. He felt like he lost an arm when he was without them. he primarily did solo routines, due to his shorter stature and weight, partnered routines never moulded well with him, he was better on the ice alone. for him to succeed with a partner on the ice they would have to be willing to grant him the female counterparts roles, as that is what he was accustomed to skating and doing- he tried training for lifts but his size left him lacking. He was strong and brilliant in his spins and corrections working endlessly for perfection.

Barty Crouch JR. - SOCCER (eurpoean football)

in it to win at whatever cost. cleats to his shins when kicking, nasty wipe outs and grass stains on his arms, legs and cheeks from diving for the ball. He would be the first to go down screaming from another teams missed kick, and the first to be jumping in during a scrum. he’s all passion and fire on the field. deadly fast and deadly accurate not only by his aim- but not particularly showy about his skills. there’s no fancy dribbling and passes. he keeps it simple, from player to player passes and then the ball to the net. strong believer in the KISS method (keep it simple stupid)

Evan Rosier - COURT BASKETBALL

he would be tall, not the one to run up centre but to always pass the ball for another more able body could take the shot. Calculating and accessing as he changed positions on the court to always be open. It would be delivering sneaky elbows and trips to opposition when the refs attention was otherwise turned to keep his lane free so others could send the ball to him. he wasn’t be afraid to take the penalties and do the dirty work to get was needed completed.

Lily Evans - COURT VOLLEYBALL

she would have a powerful serve and instead of setting the pace of the game and setting the plays at centre she would be a hitter at the net or a power hitter from the back. she would leap for the balls with scrapped knees from slipping pads and go down hard every play. She would throw all hands in and be the first to leap at her teammates in an eccentric hug at the end of each set. Deadly focus to win but having a blast getting there as she did her part.

Marlene McKinnon - BASEBALL

it’s competitive and it’s often summed as a male only sport. She would in her youth have been on all-boys teams, likely having the hardest curveball and be an excellent pitcher. I could see her having deadly aim and accuracy when at the mound. when batting she’d recklessly abandon herself to the thrill of going base-to-base, and always going for a base steal. no hesitation and full trust in her team to do what needed to be done to win. she’d be ruthless.

Pandora Ollivander - GYMNASTICS

particularly the artistic gymnastics. since not only is it an exceptional art form but it requires and represents a very unique set of talent and strength to compete. it can be beautiful, but it can also be very hideous at times come competition and rulings with its ridicule by others. it’s countless repetition on getting your holds and your standings right and your balancing on the precise on falling or rising. it is an all stakes sport, which I think captures her well. (also a very small willowy blonde with long blonde hair doing flips and switches from beams and poles…)

SIDENOTE: see SIMONE BILES

incase it wasn’t obvious I’m quite the hockey fan, every other sport I know only preliminary knowledge about from highschool and college lol. anyway cheers!

[beardedmrbean]

Can a golf cart be considered the modern equivalent of a runabout?

Oh wait, there's more

I can see the comparison being pretty good there ya,

There's also the Tuk Tuk

though they do tend to have a windshield of some sort and 3 wheels instead of 4, concept is close even if it's more of a rickshaw.

Things could be game changers in places like NYC.

I think you're spot on about the golf cart thing, there's some neighborhoods that have been put up in the last couple decades designed around the people living there driving them "in town" if you look up Celebration, FL you'll see what I mean.

[trivialbob]

I am back home from vacation in Isla Mujeres. Sheila is staying a few more days. We know other visitors on the island. Sheila is hanging out with them this week.

The Island is a 25 minute ferry ride from Cancun. It is about tourism, but not at all like being inside an all-inclusive resort. Many folks we ran into visit Isla for several weeks at a time and stay in small condos or rooms.

(A bit long, with pictures, below the cut)

We rented a two-bedroom place in a small, four-unit building. It was at the north end of the island. That's where many of the American and Canadian visitors stay. But locals live there too. From our roof we could see the family next door, cooking and putting out their laundry to dry. Our door is the blue one in the bottom left picture.

Some US hotels I've been at lately don't offer daily changes of sheets and towels. "For the sake of the environment," ya know. Our modest place in Isla included fresh sheets and towels every day in addition to full room cleaning. It felt luxurious.

More local people live mid-island and to the south end. However, visitors rent places all over the narrow island. A couple we know has the equivalent of a studio apartment mid-island for two months at $600/month. A realtor would call it "Very cozy." I liked it.

That couple has bicycles they store there for when they come back each winter. They also rent a golf cart from time to time to drive around the island, as many visitors do. Some Americans and Canadians purchase places instead of renting. Some beautiful, modern houses dot the island.

One of the first things I did upon arrival was slather myself in SPF 50 sunscreen. My pasty white head and back made the soft, white beach sand look like black pepper in comparison. The sunscreen worked well. I have only one small patch of burned skin where I missed covering a spot on one ankle.

You won't find chain restaurants here. The few banks and gas stations have familiar names, but that's about it for big brands.

Warning signs are few and far between. Servers bring cold beer to the beach, in glass bottles. This was my fourth or fifth visit and Sheila's 12th. We've never seen or heard someone break a bottle. There are no lifeguards at beaches or pools.

When crossing roads, cars, golf carts, and scooters seem to have the right-of-way over pedestrians. Sidewalks are rough and uneven. You learn to be careful and pay attention. At times soldiers and police patrolled the streets with rifles. We felt secure the whole time, even while walking in dimly lit local neighborhoods.

One resort-like place where we hung out at for a few hours has a pool with concrete seats and tables in the water. A server, seeing me cooling off in the water, asked if I'd deliver a glass ashtray to four women sitting at table in the pool.

Smoking isn't allowed inside bars and restaurants, thank God. Unlike the US where that's just understood, there are some No Fumar signs posted in Isla businesses. I bet I didn't see more than a dozen people smoking the whole time I was there.

Touristy stuff is there if you want that. Two streets have vendors hawking t-shirts, magnets, and such. Scuba and fishing trips are available if that's your thing. Golf carts and scooters can be rented. Mainly I eat good food, drink relatively inexpensive drinks and cheap beer, read, and relax. Surprisingly though, I recorded 10,000 or more steps every day.

Many of the older buildings would make an American code inspector twitch with anxiety. Few stairs, even very steep ones, have railings. Nor do all the rooftops. Our place had a railing on top but the buildings next to us did not. A realtor might call those "Unencumbered terraces." I easily could have done one of those cop TV show stunts, jumping from building to building while chasing a perp down the block.

Try tracing these wires. Or finding the source of the water lines. A realtor might say "Plentiful utilities." We did have excellent water pressure, hot and cold. Just don't drink it.

Bathrooms in some bars and restaurants... oh my. An Applebee's is more sanitary, but then you are eating at Applebee's. About ten years ago one of Sheila's friends purchased a toilet seat with her own money and installed it herself in one of the island's bars she liked to frequent. She had developed some nice leg muscles from so much hovering. Life's trade-offs, right?

One bar's women's room has a lot of comments in Sharpie about Mark. Some female out there somewhere DOES NOT LIKE MARK. Apparently a frequent visitor to the island, she documents when bad thoughts of Mark cross her mind. The men's room offered some scribbles both for and against Mark. At our table a group of us sat around trying to come up with the story. It could have a chance at being a Netflix/Hulu movie.

We didn't cook. There are too many local places that are fun and tasty. In some parts of the island you can actually order a meal at someone's house and eat on their patio. I'll have a separate post later about how we hired local guy bring us to seven different places for food one night.

Several times we shared restaurant tables with other visitors, some we knew from previous visits, some total strangers. A couple from New Jersey wanted to sit on the patio at a restaurant Sheila and I like. All three outside tables were occupied. We had empty chairs at ours, so we invited them to join us and had a wonderful evening talking with them. The wife did sound a bit like Carmela Soprano. Her husband, however, did not make me remove my cap. Another restaurant had a cat you could pet during dinner at another place.

In addition to the restaurant cat there were sidewalk dogs. They putter around or relax on the warm pavement. People walk and drive around the dogs. I assure you that white dog in the right picture is just sleeping contentedly. I didn't use a flash, so I wouldn't disturb him. The little one on the left greeted me as I walked along the malecón on my way to a massage.

We played pickle ball while there. The courts were in the middle of an area with few tourists. All the players were Americans. I wonder what the local residents think of the game with the bright, plastic balls that go clink, clink, clink. That's me in the yellow hat (top left picture). The bottom two pictures are what was behind the courts.

I could get used to scooter life. Sheila has one at home, but it's engine is literally six times the size of what these ones here have.

Carnival celebrations began on Friday. Our place overlooked the town square, by the Catholic Church. It was fun to watch the celebration with the loud music and lots of people.

That got long! Enough for now.

[nobodysdaydreams]

hello! I was wondering if you have a favorite setting or costume from the mbs show :D

Interesting question. I don’t really notice or think about clothes that much, and I don’t know much about fashion, but I do love the color aesthetics they went with, especially Curtain’s blue vs. Nicholas’ green (and how Sticky and Reynie have the same colors, as shown by the gifs below!!!).

I love a lot of the other character's outfits and colors too: Constance’s pink, all of Rhonda’s outfits are amazing of course, and they did a great job with Number Two’s yellow. It makes me wish we could have seen what they were planning with the sister (I’ve adopted the popular head canon that she wears purple to complete the sibling color scheme 💚💙💜).

However, there were two really cool things I noticed when I was going through the gifs for this post. The first is shown below, where in season 2, Kate starts dressing more like Milligan (darker colors, browns, farming clothes) in the same frame that Constance is wearing a green dress (Nicholas' colors!!! It's official, he's her dad, adoption or not, not that there was ever any doubt).

But there was something else I noticed! SQ wears a blue sweater (no surprise, that's probably what Curtain would buy for him), and Constance wears a blue raincoat in season 1. At first I was like "Oh yay, Constance and Curtain parallels", but then I realized. SQ and Constance both almost always wear pink/peach underneath or along with their blue (or in the gif above of Constance, green) clothing items. They are cousins. 💕

I also love how light SQ’s baby blue and peach colors are in comparison to Constance’s darker blues and magentas (and Curtain’s darker blue suits).

As for my favorite setting, you already know I love Curtain’s mad hatter style blueberry tea party for the sheer insanity of it. Like, where are they? It looks like the middle of a field or golf course. Curtain even has a golf cart. Why not just do it inside or next to a building like a normal person? Why is table so long when there are only three people? Why did Curtain just bring a little tea and fruit? It’s sort of implied that Nicholas and Number Two were brought food before Curtain arrived, so why didn’t he eat with them? Why is Curtain sitting with himself facing directly into the sun like it’s his own personal spotlight? He clearly planned this very carefully and was so excited for it he did a little dance beforehand. But what was he excited for exactly? A silly blueberry metaphor, some gaslighting, and an ominous “oh. I can’t wait to show you Nicholas” before prancing off to do more evil schemes? That’s it?

And the look Curtain gives while pouring the tea is incredible. Pure insanity. Pure delusion. Told my neurodivergent brain everything I needed to know about what was going on in that man’s head in that moment. He was operating at maximum silliness that day. And everything about the set up that I mentioned before perfectly tells you what vibe Curtain is gonna be giving this season. Brilliant set design. Looks exactly like the work of an egotistical lunatic. 10/10.

[mitigatedchaos]

You still into golf carts? Imagine riding a 1986 Machimoto to the polling place...

The "Misneyland" concept was driven by the comment that many people have trouble finding new friends after university.

I ultimately have focused less on the cart concept, because I realized that golf carts are a low-security vehicle, so they can't be used to save money if the political environment is too tolerant of theft and violent crime. It's a similar problem to public transit. This prevents the savings that could be enjoyed by middle-class people living in a medium-density golf cart town.

I estimated that unlike Elon Musk's tunnel car program, the significantly smaller size and weight of golf carts makes it much cheaper (by comparison) to build underground autonomous golf cart tunnels through a mixture of cut & cover and precast concrete units.

This would allow 8 cubic foot packages to be delivered within 15 minutes to anywhere within a town, at any time of day. However, I was not able to determine a use case to pay for this - the Internet moves data pretty quickly, but manufacturing is usually more tightly coupled and it makes less sense to be constantly shipping items that have had intermediate manufacturing done rather than complete the items on-site, or deliver them daily by semi-truck.

[cboffshore]

Power nap, power trip, whatever - you've got a reputation to uphold. This is "Fury of the Storm."

Wojira was a LOT of fun, and even though she was destructive as hell... I kind of miss her, you know?

In my first version of the Wojira design, even with my limited fashion skills, I actually produced something semi-decent that I'm willing to share for comparison's sake:

Look at that! A whole three different brushes! All in all, I actually really liked this rendition; my first attempt at a remaster was just going to be this, but Better (TM).

And then I sat down at my drawing tablet (which is just a touchscreen Chromebook that can do a deep backbend) and... I couldn't. I resketched the outline on my croquis and my heart simply wasn't in it. So I put her to sleep for about twenty seconds and then reawakened her by slotting in the Amulet of Panic (which doesn't have a dragon head on it - it's got a carving of me frantically scribbling). Luckily, it didn't take a few hundred trials, and I landed on something that kept some of what I originally set out to do and introduced neat new twists.

Overall vibes: The original was supposed to be very supervillainy, which is obvious in terms of structure: sleek train, athletic boots, dark colors, oversized armor. In theory, this was solid, but I realized I'd approached it all wrong. Wojira is (was?) a literal origin story. Why did I try to assign this ancient mythological sea goddess a modern supervillain look? She's a classic! This time, I decided to lean into that with a Greco-Roman war goddess vibe: draped fabric and gladiator-esque boots. Hack off the layered train and it's practically battlefield-ready.

Speaking of layered fabric: Wojira is, honestly, slightly funny (remember the puppy head tilt when Jay sidetracks her?); there's something ironically very human about her. With that in mind, I gave a little thought to her circumstances when wrinkling the dress. Imagine that you're a goddess who, after being defeated in battle, is sent to a millennia-long sleep. After a bunch of scientific poking and prodding, you're forcibly woken up, tased repeatedly, and driven around like an oversized golf cart. Of course you're not going to look 100%! You're going to be rumpled by default.

While we're on the topic of looking messy: I don't generally go for wear-and-tear in my designs unless I think it enhances the work (looking at you, Nelson and Antonia). "Fury of the Storm" is a rare exception, and the damage appears in the cloak in the form of a scorched neon texture along the edges. This is a very literal interpretation of her wings, which I think are incredibly cool.

Headdress, clasps, and torso: not much to this beyond that I like Wojira's horns so much that I wanted to put extra ones on. The headdress is pretty straightforward - amulets, lightning circlet, chain veil to symbolize Kalmaar's control. The torso armor just exists to repeat that motif and lend extra mythological vibes to the whole look. While we're talking about Kalmaar, the clasps holding up the dress and pinning the cloak in place are directly traced from the arrow elements I used in the KPS and act as further representation of his hold over her. Once removed, the entire dress falls apart - just like his plans once his trident snapped.

Only one more to go in the series! For the few of you who have followed along, my deepest thanks - I hope the finale piece lives up to whatever expectations you have. I hope they're good ones! In the meantime, your promised bonus wallpaper. I really like this one, actually - I don't do a lot of very dark backdrops, so this was a fun challenge.

Unfortunately, it also looks like one of those paper cups from the nineties. But, like, an evil version. Put your Sprite in one of these and it'll just leak onto the floor.

[nelfs]

i dreamed last night that my car was sooo small and weak and pathetic. I was trying to drive it on a bumpy road and I was like having to reach my arm out the window and push it over things. I was driving it like fred flintstone. It was like a tiny golf cart. when I got to my destination I realized it was smaller than a computer mouse and even smaller than a Hotwheels (I put it next to one for comparison) and I realized I wouldn't have to pay for parking anymore because I could just put it in my pocket...

[huanduylithiumbattery]

Lithium Golf Cart Batteries – Popular For Its Performance

Trolling motors are particularly important for enthusiastic fishermen as they ensure almost silent and very efficient movements during fishing trips.

Conventional deep-cycle lead-acid batteries have been used for a long time, while lithium trolling motor batteries are becoming more popular by the day. Why? The reasons are compelling. Perpendicularly, lithium batteries are very light in comparison to other types of batteries on the market today. This single feature makes them a perfect option for anyone who uses boats to cut down on the weight that the boats carry. Reduced weight effectively enhances fuel economy and, consequently, the operational efficiency of the machinery. One of the numerous benefits is that they have a very long-life span, potentially the longest of any type of light. Tests have also revealed that lithium batteries are up to ten times more durable compared to those of a lead-acid battery. This longevity means that they would need to be replaced after a very long time or would even require little maintenance over a very long time. Furthermore, the lithium batteries have a constant voltage delivery during depth of discharge, which results in efficient use of electricity and even extended periods of use by trolling motors. The last parameter is the efficiency of lithium batteries. They can also be de-tracked and racked more effectively than lead-acid batteries, and they can be charged much faster and used much more than batteries of this type. This efficiency is particularly helpful for times when fishing goes on for a very long time and stable power is needed. How the self-discharge of lithium golf cart batteries can help

Batteries for golf carts are an essential part of golfing owing to the carts’ fame among golfers and other people who are involved in the game of golf. Hearing that Lithium Golf Cart Batteries are gradually gaining popularity, it is pertinent to explain in detail the following main reasons.

Firstly, just as with the trolling motor type, lithium batteries are significantly lighter in comparison to the lead-acid batteries that are commonly used. Another advantage of the Lithium Golf Cart Batteries can result from weight loss, which could improve handling and speed, resulting in increased enjoyment of the game. Making the switch

It can be argued that giving up carbon and lead-powered trolling motors and golf carts for the lithium trolling motor batteries is deciding in favor of the more expensive battery. Still, the advantages, less weight, longer life span, greater efficiency, and consistent power, make them worthy of that choice. Any person who is involved in boating or golfing will find lithium batteries increase the performance and reliability of their boats or golf cars, respectively.

[maddparts]

Exploring the Convenience of Online Shopping for Outdoor Enthusiasts

In today's fast-paced world, convenience is key. For outdoor enthusiasts looking to enhance their adventures, the ability to buy golf cart parts online has become a game-changer. With just a few clicks, enthusiasts can browse through a wide array of products, compare prices, and make purchases from the comfort of their own homes. Let's delve into the world of online shopping for power sports accessories and golf cart parts and discover the benefits it offers.

Convenience at Your Fingertips

Gone are the days of driving from store to store in search of the perfect power sports accessory or golf cart part. With online shopping, everything you need is conveniently accessible with a few taps on your smartphone or the clicks of a mouse. Whether you're looking for a new set of tires for your ATV or custom accessories for your golf cart, the online marketplace offers an extensive selection to cater to every need.

Endless Variety and Selection

One of the biggest advantages of buy powersports accessories onlineand golf cart parts online is the sheer variety available. Unlike traditional brick-and-mortar stores limited by physical space, online retailers can showcase a vast range of products from different brands all in one place. This means you have access to an extensive selection of accessories and parts to choose from, ensuring you find the perfect fit for your needs and preferences.

Ease of Comparison and Research

When shopping online for power sports accessories and golf cart parts, comparing products and researching options has always been challenging. With just a few clicks, you can read product reviews, compare prices, and evaluate features to make informed purchasing decisions. This allows you to find the best deals and ensure you're getting high-quality products that meet your requirements.

Convenient Shipping and Delivery

Another perk of online shopping is the convenience of shipping and delivery. Instead of having to haul heavy or bulky items home from a physical store, online retailers can deliver your purchases right to your doorstep. This saves you time and effort, allowing you to focus on enjoying your outdoor adventures without the hassle of transportation logistics.

24/7 Access and Availability

Unlike traditional stores with set operating hours, online shopping offers the flexibility of 24/7 access. Whether you're an early riser or a night owl, you can browse and shop for power sports accessories and golf cart parts whenever it's convenient for you. This flexibility fits seamlessly into your schedule, allowing you to make purchases on your own time without being constrained by store hours.

Enhanced Customer Experience

Many online retailers prioritize customer satisfaction, offering easy returns, responsive customer service, and hassle-free shopping experiences. This dedication to customer experience ensures that your online shopping journey is smooth and enjoyable from start to finish. Whether you have questions about a product or need assistance with your order, help is just a click away.

Conclusion: 

The ability to buy power sports accessories and golf cart parts online has revolutionized the outdoor shopping experience. With the convenience, variety, and flexibility offered by online retailers like maddparts.com, outdoor enthusiasts can easily find and purchase everything they need to enhance their adventures. So why wait? Embrace the future of outdoor shopping today and enjoy the convenience of online purchasing for all your power sports and golf cart needs.

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Do You Need To Purchase New Golf Cart Batteries In The Villages?

Residents of The Villages, Florida utilize golf carts more than cars.

Most can’t do without their beloved cart and will do anything to keep them looking good and running well.

But what about golf cart batteries? Where do you get them? How expensive are they? And how long do they last?

Keep reading.

If your golf cart is electric, you’re well aware that the batteries are very important.

Because golf cart batteries can be costly, they are the thing that our electric cart customers who buy a used cart from us are most concerned about.

But Like anything else, knowledge is power. The more you know about golf cart batteries, the easier it is to make an informed purchase when it is time to replace your old batteries.

Customers frequently ask if electric carts are more expensive to own and maintain than gas carts.

No, is the quick response.

When we compare the cost of batteries for an electric cart over the course of their lives, to the cost of filling up with gas (especially) these days and maintaining a gas-powered cart, the expenses are surprisingly similar.

Electric golf carts have several advantages also, including the fact that they are noiseless (essential for use at many country clubs), that they deliver instant torque, that they do not require the replacement of gasoline, oil, or fuel filters, and that they do not smell (great for indoor facility use).

What Golf Cart Batteries Are The Best? Trojan Golf Cart Batteries is the industry standard brand for lead-acid golf cart batteries.

Trojan batteries are used in all Club Car, EZGO, and Yamaha golf carts right out of the box!

These OEM cart brands have tried and tested battery types from every battery manufacturer on the market, and they consistently chose Trojan.

Trojan Battery Company, situated in the United States, was founded in 1925 and has grown to become the world’s top manufacturer of deep-cycle Solar and Motive batteries.

Trojan has impacted the world of deep-cycle battery technology with a wide choice of flooded, AGM, Gel, and lithium batteries, as well as nearly a century of manufacturing experience.

However, there is a new kid on the block

Lithium Golf Cart Batteries are becoming very popular in The Villages. Allied Lithium, Relion, ROYPOW, and Samsung are the best Lithium-Ion golf cart battery brands.

Lithium Golf Cart Batteries have seen the most rapid growth in the golf cart battery industry in recent years.

This is evident by the fact that Lithium-ion Batteries are now standard on practically all EZ-GO and Club Car carts.

Lithium is now considered to be the best power solution for golf carts, and it is quite possible that in the near future, all carts will be powered by lithium batteries.

Lithium batteries for golf carts are not the same as those used in cell phones and other small gadgets.

The Lithium Iron Phosphate (LiFeO4) batteries used in golf carts are one of the most reliable and long-lasting on the market.

Fairway Golf Car Mobile Services is a certified golf cart battery dealer in The Villages and can offer you lower rates than you will find elsewhere on Lead-Acid batteries and Lithium batteries.

How Long Do Golf Cart Batteries Last? This is a question we get a lot at Fairway Golf Car Mobile Services. Unfortunately, it is impossible to give a definitive answer to.

So the safe answer is, “it depends on how you take care of them”.

Deep cycle battery packs, require some basic maintenance, such as checking and filling proper water levels and ensuring that the battery pack is always completely charged and never depleted (plugging it in after each use or a round of golf).

Aside from maintenance measures, usage is the next most important aspect that affects the life of your golf cart batteries.

In comparison to a golf cart owned by a private user, battery packs in golf course fleet applications are used much more frequently.

During peak seasons, fleet carts are used for 2-3 rounds of golf per day, whereas private carts are used for 3-5 rounds per week (sometimes more depending on the number of golfers using the cart).

All things considered, well maintained battery packs in fleet carts typically last 4-6 years, whereas individual owners often get 6-10 years out of theirs.

The sort of options on the cart that may enhance the draw from the battery pack are also important considerations. Options like headlights and taillights can have a significant impact on the overall life span.

If you reside in a golf course community like The Villages and drive to and from the golf course, this has a significant impact on the battery pack.

The age of your Trojan deep cycle battery can always be determined by glancing at the two digits on the negative post of the battery.

The letter denotes the month of manufacture (A=January, B=February, C=March…), whereas the number denotes the year of manufacture (9=2009, 0=2010, 1=2011…).

How Much Do Golf Cart Batteries Cost? The average cost of a golf cart battery replacement will be between $800 and $1,500.

It could possibly be in the $2,000 range, depending on the type of battery used, because strong golf carts like a 72V require more expensive batteries.

If you’re still on the fence about buying an electric golf cart, here is something to think about.

The cost of golf cart batteries is not prohibitively high, but the cost of having them installed at a local golf cart service center may be.

Installing your battery on your own can be difficult due to the fact that batteries can be rather hefty.

As a result, keep in mind that Fairway Golf Car Mobile Services will deliver and install! You can relax knowing we handle everything.

ORIGINALLY FOUND ON- Source: Fairway Golf Car Mobile Services(https://fairwaygolfservices.com/golf-cart-batteries-the-villages/)

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Buy Golf Carts For Sale

Golf Carts For Sale: A Comprehensive Guide

Golf carts are a popular mode of transportation on golf courses, but they can also be used for a variety of other purposes, such as cruising through neighborhoods, commuting to work, or even running errands.

What are golf carts?

Golf carts are small, four-wheeled vehicles that are powered by batteries or gasoline. They typically have a top speed of 15-20 miles per hour and can seat up to two or four people. Golf carts are typically used on golf courses to transport golfers between holes, but they can also be used for a variety of other purposes.

What are the benefits of using golf carts?

Golf carts offer a number of benefits over other modes of transportation, including:

Convenience: Golf carts are very convenient to use, especially for short trips. They are easy to park and don't require any special licensing or insurance.

Safety: Golf carts are relatively safe vehicles, especially when used in controlled environments, such as golf courses.

Environmentally friendly: Golf carts are powered by batteries or gasoline, which makes them a more environmentally friendly option than cars.

What are the different types of golf carts?

There are a variety of different types of golf carts available, including:

Two-seater: Two-seater golf carts are the most common type of golf cart. They are perfect for couples or individuals who want a small, affordable golf cart.

Four-seater: Four-seater golf carts are a good option for families or groups of friends. They offer more seating capacity than two-seater golf carts.

Lifted: Lifted golf carts have been raised off the ground, which gives them more ground clearance and makes them better suited for off-road use.

Street legal: Street legal golf carts are equipped with the necessary safety features, such as turn signals and brake lights, to be driven on public roads.

How much do golf carts cost?

The price of a golf cart can vary depending on the type of golf cart, the features, and the brand. Two-seater golf carts typically start around $2,000, while four-seater golf carts can cost up to $5,000 or more. Lifted golf carts and street legal golf carts are typically more expensive than standard golf carts.

Where can I buy a golf cart?

Golf carts can be purchased from Buypremiumgolfcarts.com , including golf course pro shops, online retailers, and used car dealerships.

How to maintain a golf cart

Golf carts require regular maintenance to keep them running smoothly. Some of the most important maintenance tasks include:

Checking the battery level

Inspecting the tires

Cleaning the golf cart

Lubricating the moving parts

Conclusion

Golf carts are a versatile and convenient mode of transportation that can be used for a variety of purposes. They are a popular choice for golfers, but they can also be used for cruising through neighborhoods, commuting to work, or even running errands. If you are looking for a fun and affordable way to get around, consider a golf cart.

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Step by Step Guide on How to Buy Best Golf Bags

In the first part you will find a golf bag comparison that we have created especially for you, and in the second part of our article we will inform you if there is a golf bag test from major consumer magazines. The demands on a golf bag could not be higher.

Best Golf Bags should be easy to transport and offer as many compartments as possible for your clubs. Every golf bag should have at least one waterproof compartment for valuables. For complete protection of the bag in heavy rain, it is recommended to buy a suitable rain cover. Have fun searching for the best golf bag!

 Buy a golf bag: What to look for?

Make sure that the cheap golf bags offers enough space for golf balls, various clubs, and some personal utensils.

Choose a model that is waterproof and windproof

You can choose between 5 different types of bags: Tourbag, Carrybag, Cartbag, Stand bag and Travel cover

Check if the material is of high quality and the workmanship is stable

The wheels should be easy to move and offer sufficient stability even when standing on the ground

Choose a special design or mark your golf bag so that you do not confuse it with other gold bags during play

 What are the best golf bags?

The manufacturers TaylorMade, Callaway and Big Max have established themselves on the market with very good quality at a reasonable price. However, which one is the best golf bag also depends on your own requirements and personal preferences.

 So before buying, it is advisable to look into the many golf bags on offer. As a beginner, you can also keep your eyes open on the course and ask fellow players for recommendations.

 Which golf bags are there? 

There are three types of golf bags and best golf cart bags : the stand bag, the cart bag and the tour bag. Most reputable manufacturers offer all variations. The stand bag is carried over the shoulder across the course and has feet for secure footing.

 The cart bag can be pushed or pulled around the course with a trolley. The tour bag is particularly suitable for taking some of the equipment with you on your travels.

 What is best golf cart bags ?

Cart bags usually have a very good layout and can be transported very easily with the help of a trolley. Cart bags are mainly used by golfers who have to transport a lot of clubs and equipment.

 Cart bags are also ideal for women, as carrying a heavy golf bag over the long distances of the golf course is no longer necessary. However, a cart bag is inherently heavier than a golf bag carried over the shoulder.

 How heavy is a golf bag?

Depending on the bag's own weight, the total weight of the packed bag is around 10 to 12 kg, depending on the design. So it's good if everything stays in its intended place and the bag is sturdy and of high quality.

 Also, one should attach importance to padded carrying straps and if possible, take advantage of a trolley. For those who do not want to carry heavy, a cart bag with a trolley may come into question.

 What does a golf bag cost?

Depending on what kind of demands you make on the golf bag, you have to reckon with about 50 to 200 € for a golf bag. Bags from brand manufacturers are more expensive, with no-name manufacturers you can save money significantly.

 Normally, the more features and functions the bag has, the more money you have to spend on it. Optionally available accessories such as a trolley or weather protection hoods must be added extra.

 How big is a golf bag?

Golf bags in simple design are very handy, but often only offer space for a few clubs. If you want to take your entire equipment onto the green, you will have to choose a larger bag. Also, the dimensions of the golf bag do not only depend on the amount of equipment.

 The intended use also has an impact on the size of the bag. Usually cart bags are a lot bigger and heavier than golf bags, which are used to take the equipment on vacation.

 What is the best way to organize my golf bag?

That's up to your personal preferences. Most bags already have certain compartments for clubs, gloves and balls. A so-called divider provides more order for the clubs.

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Comparison of lithium batteries for golf carts with traditional lead-acid batteries