#Golf putting technique

[macrogolf12]

Achieve Consistency with the Arm Anchor Putter: A Modern Solution for Putting

Putting is often the most critical part of a golfer's game, and mastering this aspect can make a significant difference in lowering scores. One of the most innovative tools to help improve putting consistency is the arm anchor putter. This specialized putter design focuses on stabilizing the hands and body during the stroke, ultimately helping golfers make more accurate and controlled putts. The arm anchor putter has become a popular choice, especially for those looking to enhance their performance on the greens.

 What Is an Arm Anchor Putter?

An arm anchor putter is a unique putting club that features a longer shaft and a design that allows the putter to be anchored against the golfer’s arm or chest during the stroke. This "anchoring" technique provides additional stability, as the putter remains more stationary, reducing excessive wrist movement. The idea is that by attaching the putter to the golfer's body in some way, the stroke becomes more controlled and consistent, limiting the chance for errors caused by shaky hands or misalignment.

While the arm anchor putter isn’t allowed in traditional tour play due to the ban on anchoring putters, many recreational players find it a valuable tool to help improve their putting. The increased stability helps promote a smoother, more repeatable stroke, especially for golfers who struggle with the yips or inconsistent putting motions.

 How Does the Arm Anchor Putter Improve Putting?

The main advantage of using an arm anchor putter is the added stability it provides during the putting stroke. By anchoring the putter to the body, golfers are able to eliminate excessive hand and wrist movement, which is often the source of inconsistent putts. This stability encourages a more controlled and smooth motion, allowing for better distance control and accuracy.

Another benefit of the arm anchor putter is the potential to reduce tension in the hands and arms. For golfers who suffer from the yips—an involuntary twitch or jerk that occurs during the putting stroke—the arm anchor can help by promoting a more relaxed grip and eliminating the unnecessary movements that contribute to this issue. The anchoring technique also allows for a more natural alignment of the body and the putter, further improving the consistency of the stroke.

 Who Can Benefit from an Arm Anchor Putter?

Golfers facing issues like involuntary wrist action can benefit from arm anchor putter. Those facing issues in golf strikes that entails more attention-to-detail and precision can apply the arm anchor putting technique. The technique should be put into use by golfers who do not have much control over their wrist muscles. To achieve a consistent strike, use the putting technique in a confident way.

[ivoirerose]

golf trip | rafe cameron

Summary: When Rafe drags you out golfing with his friends, you decide to get your revenge by teasing him.

Warnings: smut, voyeurism, spanking, public sex

==================================

Rafe Cameron both loved and hated you right now. He loved the little skirt you were wearing, pleats swinging as you pranced around the golf course. He hated the way you bent over to tie your laces, ass on full display and not a damn thing he could do about it.

He loved the lipgloss you were wearing, lips pink and shiny and full. He hated the way you kept sinking your teeth into your skin, teasing him in that you knew he loved.

He loved the way your top (if you could even call it that) pushed your tits together. He hated the way Topper and Kelce wouldn’t stop fucking staring at them.

Spending the day golfing with your boyfriends friends wasn’t in your top ten of things to do, and you were damn sure punishing Rafe for dragging you here in the first place, flashing your shit around for everyone to see.

And it was driving him fucking insane.

“Rafe, stop sulking and come take your turn,” you shouted, holding back a smirk at the dark look on his face as he stalked towards you.

“You’re on thin ice, sweetheart,” he mumbled in your ear as he passed you, giving your ass a gentle tap.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you smiled innocently, and he rolled his eyes as he leaned over to take his shot.

Topper whistled lowly as he watched the ball land way off.

“Dude, you are seriously off your game today,” he commented, and Rafe huffed out a sigh, harsh grip on his club as he turned to you.

“You happy?” He scowled at you, eyeing your legs as he did.

“Me? Whatever do you mean?” You asked, hand against your chest as you smiled sweetly at him.

“Keep going, baby. See what happens.”

“Hmm. Sounds exciting,” you smirked again, and you swore he was about the break his club in half as you shouldered past him, making sure to put an extra spring in your step as you followed Kelce to the next hole.

He trailed after you, eyes squinting at the casual way you leaned a hand on Kelce’s arm as you walked, throwing a sly wink back at him.

He wasn’t sure how much more of this he could stand.

You both stood watching Kelce take his turn, your hand softly reaching back to just scrape against the bulge in his shorts, and he bit back a groan at the sensation before grabbing your hand harshly in his.

“Don’t make me bend you over right here.”

His voice was dark in your ear, and you felt yourself slick between your thighs at the feel of his breath on your skin, the threat in his words.

“You wouldn’t dare,” you mumbled back, before pushing off him, sliding up to take your own shot, and he knew from the glint in your eye that this wasn’t over.

“Hey Top?” You called out, looking over you shoulder at the blonde boy. “Could you show me that technique you were talking about the other day?”

Topper swallowed harshly as he glanced over at Rafe before walking over to stand behind you, trying to keep a respectful distance as he explained it to you.

“You get it now?” He asked, and you smirked at Rafe before answering.

“I’m not sure, can you show me?” You asked sweetly, and Topper dared a step closer, hands wrapping around yours over the club as he demonstrated a swing.

Rafe’s limit finally came watching the way you shuffled back into Topper, ass pressing against his dick.

He threw his club down, storming over to the pair of you, enjoying the way Topper quickly stepped back, hands held out innocently. He grabbed you harshly, dragging you over to the golf cart and shoving you down, tits pressed against the seat and your ass in the air

“Rafe, what the fuck are you doing?” You gasped out as his hands lifted your skirt, running over your underwear.

“I warned you, baby. You didn’t listen. I told you what would happen if you carried on, and I don’t back out. So you’re gonna bend over like a good little girl and you’re gonna take what I give you, right here, right now. Got it?”

You glanced around, eyes trailing over the trees surrounding you, offering you a pretty decent cover for what you knew was about to happen. Your stomach flipped as you caught Topper’s eye, Kelce next to him, both boys looking a curious mix of horny and confused.

“I said, got it?” Rafe asked again, slapping your ass harshly.

“Yes! I got it,” you moaned out, and you swore you saw Topper’s dick twitch in his shorts from your position across from him.

“That’s a good girl.”

And then he was sliding your underwear to the side, pushing into you with a quick thrust, setting his pace instantly as he shoved you forward, chest sliding against the seat.

You cried out as he hit deep, each brush against that spot inside you driving you closer and closer to the edge. Your eyes were squeezed shut, desperate pants leaving your lips as Rafe’s hand trailed up to tighten around your throat.

He pulled you back against him, the new angle making you see stars, and he whispered lowly in your ear.

“Open those eyes, baby. See how they’re watching you, watching you take me like the good girl you are.”

You obeyed, lids snapping open to look at your friends, both seemingly trancelike as they stared at the way Rafe was moving in you, the way your tits were bouncing with each thrust. Rafe felt you clench tighter around him, and he held back a groan of his own at the way you gripped him.

“Go on, sweetheart, come for me. Show them just how good I make you feel, show them who you belong to,” he ordered, and your body listened instantly, your orgasm hitting you as you moaned out so loudly you were sure they’d hear you on the Cut.

Rafe followed straight after, spanking you lightly again as he pulled out, eyes glued to way he dripped out of you.

He turned you around, pulling you against him as he slid your underwear back into place.

“Now, you’re gonna go pick up your golf club, and you’re gonna finish this game with my come still running down your thighs, and you’re gonna do it with a smile on that pretty face. You even think about misbehaving and I’ll let them both take a turn in that tight ass of yours.”

[nayziiz]

It's Rough | LN4

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader (she/her)

Author's note: I'm trying something a little bit different with shorter form fics, so please send through any requests or feedback. These one shots will likely not have a second part unless it really speaks to me to continue with it. Thank you!

Masterlist

Lando watched with a mix of amusement and frustration as she attempted to grasp the basics of golf. Despite her proficiency in various other activities like water sports, skiing, and driving, golf seemed to elude her completely. He had hoped that her natural athleticism and coordination would translate well onto the golf course, but it appeared that golf was a different beast altogether.

Her swings were awkward and uncoordinated, sending the ball veering off in unpredictable directions. Lando patiently offered guidance, demonstrating proper technique and providing words of encouragement, but it seemed as though golf just didn't click for her.

Despite her struggles, she approached each swing with determination, refusing to let her initial failures dampen her spirits. With each missed shot, she laughed off her mistakes and eagerly lined up for another attempt, determined to conquer the elusive sport.

Lando had known from the moment she insisted on tagging along to the golf course that her declaration of merely watching and cheering was likely wishful thinking. Despite her assurances, he could practically see the curiosity and determination dancing behind her eyes, ready to pounce at any opportunity to join in on the action.

Yet, he couldn't bring himself to deny her the chance to be a part of the day. He understood that her company would bring a different energy to the outing, even if it meant potentially disrupting the boys' dynamic on the course. Besides, the thought of her sulking at home while he enjoyed a day with his friends was far less appealing than dealing with the inevitable consequences of her joining in on the golfing shenanigans.

So, with a resigned sigh and a knowing smile, Lando agreed to let her come along, silently preparing himself for the whirlwind of chaos that often accompanied her presence. Deep down, he knew that her insistence on joining them stemmed from a desire to spend time with him, even if it meant enduring a sport she clearly had no interest in.

As they arrived at the golf course, Lando braced himself for whatever antics she had in store.

As Lando focused on his swing, he couldn't help but be distracted by her restlessness. He noticed her initially staying put behind the steering wheel of the golf cart, as promised, but her impatience soon got the better of her. With a hint of amusement, he watched as she hopped out of the cart and began to circle it, her movements fluid and graceful.

Caught off guard by the sight of her, Lando found himself momentarily forgetting about the game at hand. His gaze followed her as she moved around the cart, her skirt swaying gently with each step, revealing glimpses of her smooth, tanned skin. He couldn't deny the allure she exuded, even in such a mundane setting as a golf course.

Despite his best efforts to maintain his focus on the game, her presence proved to be a delightful distraction. He couldn't help but admire her beauty and the effortless confidence with which she carried herself, even in a sport she had no interest in.

As she circled the cart, a playful smile danced on her lips, and Lando felt a surge of affection for her. Despite her initial reluctance to join them on the course, he couldn't deny that her presence added an undeniable charm to their day. And as he watched her, he silently thanked whatever force had convinced her to come along, knowing that moments like these were what made their time together truly special.

“Hey, come on. Focus, man,” Carlos moaned quietly, making sure no one else could hear him.

Carlos's whispered admonition brought Lando back to reality, reminding him of the game at hand. He chuckled softly at Carlos's remark, acknowledging the truth in his friend's words.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Lando replied, shaking his head slightly. “But can you blame me? She's something else.”

Carlos rolled his eyes playfully, understanding Lando's sentiment all too well. Lando made a concerted effort to refocus his attention on the game. Despite the temptation to steal glances at her, he knew that winning the game required his full concentration. With a renewed sense of determination, he squared his shoulders and prepared to take his next shot, determined to put aside any distractions and give it his all. As the game continued, Lando found himself occasionally sneaking glances in her direction, unable to resist the magnetic pull she seemed to have on him.

As the afternoon progressed and the rounds of golf continued, she found herself drawn into the conversation among the boys. Standing in between them, she listened intently to their banter and jokes, occasionally chiming in with her own witty remarks.

Before she knew it, a few of the boys had handed her their clubs, entrusting her with the task of holding them as they prepared for their shots. At first, she accepted the clubs with a bemused smile, unsure of what to do with them. But as the afternoon wore on, she found herself inadvertently assuming the role of their caddy, carrying their clubs from hole to hole with ease.

Despite her initial reluctance to participate in the game, she quickly embraced her new role with enthusiasm, eagerly offering advice and encouragement to the boys as they navigated the course. With each swing of the club, she cheered them on, her enthusiasm infectious as they worked together as a team to conquer the challenges of the course.

“How about you give it a try?” Alex's encouragement rang out across the green, much to Lando's dismay.

He watched with a mixture of apprehension and amusement as she smirked and accepted the club from Alex's outstretched hand. With a playful glint in her eye, she positioned herself on the grass, mimicking the stance Lando had patiently demonstrated to her numerous times before.

“Come on, you've got this,” Alex cheered, egging her on as she prepared to take her shot. Lando couldn't help but sigh, his expression a mixture of resignation and nervousness.

“Please, do not embarrass me,” Lando pleaded half-jokingly, knowing full well that her unpredictable nature often led to unexpected outcomes.

Her playful gasp of mock hurt elicited chuckles from the boys, but she quickly shifted her focus back to the task at hand. With a determined expression, she squared her shoulders and prepared to take her shot, eager to redeem her reputation.

But as she swung the club, it was immediately evident that this attempt wouldn't be as successful as she intended. With a wild and uncoordinated motion, she missed the ball entirely, the club swishing through the air with a whooshing sound. A chorus of groans and laughter erupted from the boys, their amusement mingled with sympathy for her failed attempt.

Lando, unable to bear the sight of her struggling any longer, groaned in pain as he moved to take the club away from her.

“Hang on. You all got time to warm up, how about you let me give it another shot?” she insisted.

Her insistence caught the attention of the group, prompting them to pause and exchange curious glances. Lando, his expression a mixture of defeat and resignation, reluctantly stepped away, giving her the space she needed to make another attempt.

With a determined gleam in her eye, she positioned herself once again, her grip on the club steady as she took a deep breath to steady her nerves. Ignoring the teasing remarks and sceptical looks from the boys, she focused all her attention on the ball before her, blocking out any distractions.

And then, with a swift and controlled motion, she swung the club, the sound of impact resonating through the air as the club connected with the ball. For a moment, time seemed to stand still as they watched in disbelief, their eyes glued to the ball as it soared through the air with precision and grace.

Their disbelief turned to astonishment as the ball arced gracefully over the green, heading straight for the hole with unerring accuracy. Cheers erupted from the group as they watched in awe, unable to believe their eyes as the ball came to rest just inches from the hole.

“Wow, that was great!” Alex exclaimed with a huge smile plastered on his face.

“Must be luck. Try again,” Max insisted, challenging her more than Lando would have liked.

“Fine,” she shrugged.

Encouraged by Alex's praise and challenged by Max's insistence, she couldn't resist the opportunity to prove herself once more. With a confident smile, she accepted the dare, her competitive spirit reignited as she prepared to take another shot.

Positioning herself with precision, she focused intently on the ball before her, blocking out any distractions as she visualised her next move. With a deep breath, she swung the club with determination, her movements fluid and controlled.

This time, luck seemed to be on her side once again as the ball sailed through the air, following a perfect trajectory towards the hole. The group watched in anticipation, holding their breath as the ball approached its target.

And then, with a satisfying thud, the ball landed on the green, rolling steadily towards the hole before coming to a stop just inches away. Cheers erupted from the group as they celebrated her impressive shot, their disbelief mingled with admiration at her uncanny skill.

“Please tell Lily she's a wonderful instructor,” she remarked to Alex, her tone laced with a hint of mischief as she acknowledged the guidance she had received. Alex chuckled in response, a knowing gleam in his eye as he nodded in agreement.

After her impressive display on the green, she couldn't resist a moment of playful triumph. With a smug smile directed at Lando, she returned to the golf cart, her steps light with the weight of her accomplishment. Lando, still reeling from the unexpected turn of events, watched her with a mixture of disbelief and begrudging admiration.

As she settled back into her seat on the golf cart, she couldn't resist shooting Lando a smug grin, revelling in the satisfaction of having proven him wrong. Despite his initial scepticism, she had managed to exceed his expectations, leaving him shaking his head in disbelief.

Lando, for his part, could only shake his head in response, still struggling to come to terms with the fact that she had just hit the ball perfectly not once, but twice in a row. It was a feat that seemed almost too improbable to believe, yet there she was, the evidence of her success undeniable.

As they continued their game, Lando couldn't shake the feeling of astonishment that lingered in the air. Despite his doubts, she had managed to defy expectations and leave her mark on the golf course in more ways than one.

As they made their way towards Lando's McLaren, he couldn't help but be curious about her sudden improvement on the golf course. With a lighthearted tone, he broached the topic, unable to resist a teasing remark.

“So, Lily's been helping you, huh?” he asked, a playful smirk playing on his lips as he glanced in her direction. She chuckled in response, the memory of her recent success still fresh in her mind.

“Maybe a little,” she admitted with a wink, her tone tinged with amusement. Lando raised an eyebrow in mock surprise, feigning disbelief at her confession.

“I see how it is,” he teased, a hint of mock indignation in his voice. “Getting private lessons behind my back?”

She laughed at his exaggerated reaction, shaking her head in amusement.

“Nothing like that,” she reassured him, her smile warm and genuine. “Surprisingly enough, it just took a bit of patience to teach me.”

“Are you saying I have no patience?” he countered, his tone tinged with offence as he feigned hurt.

“None whatsoever,” she replied with a grin, her amusement evident in her voice as she teased him gently.

Despite his protests, she knew that his patience had been tested more than once during their golfing adventure. she couldn't help but notice a hint of disappointment in Lando's expression. His competitive nature was undeniable, and the idea of her newfound golfing skills seemed to sting his pride just a little.

“How much does it hurt knowing your girlfriend can now golf?” she teased, her tone teasing yet affectionate as she gently prodded at his ego.

Lando's response was a playful groan, his lips curling into a rueful smile as he shook his head in mock resignation. Deep down, she knew that he was secretly proud of her achievement, even if it meant enduring a few jokes at his expense.

“It doesn't hurt, but it sucks that you're better at it than me now,” he admitted, his tone a mixture of resignation and playful competitiveness. With a soft chuckle, she gently pressed him against the car, her body close to his as she looked up at him with a knowing smile.

“Baby, when will you learn?” she teased, her voice low and seductive as she leaned in closer. “I'm good at a lot of things.”

As she spoke, she subtly shifted her leg between his, a teasing reminder of her many talents and abilities. Lando couldn't help but laugh at her playful confidence, his own competitive spirit momentarily forgotten in the warmth of her presence.

“I know. So, when we get home, you can put your mouth to good use,” he argued, his voice low and teasing as he leaned in to kiss her.

She couldn't help but chuckle at his boldness, her laughter mingling with the warmth of his lips against hers.

“Disgusting,” she screeched in mock indignation, her hand playfully slapping his chest as she pushed him away with feigned reluctance.

Despite her protestations, there was a playful gleam in her eye, a hint of anticipation as she met his gaze with a knowing smile.

“But, with pleasure,” she added with a wink, her tone teasing yet affectionate as she leaned in to return his kiss.

As their lips met once more, they shared a moment of quiet intimacy, their playful banter giving way to the warmth of their affection for one another. And as they finally pulled away, their laughter echoed through the air, a reminder of the love and joy that filled their lives together.

[respectthepetty]

I'm here to report on the colors in episode four of Wandee Goodday, but first a few stray thoughts like I have another image to add to my collection of Yak looking at Dee crazy,

yet still going along with whatever Dee wants.

Also, Yak being bothered that Dee didn't immediately think of him as a friend was a good beat in establishing the "friend" portion of their benefits. They are friends who share their lives with each other and scheme together, and I'm glad the show is explicitly stating that.

Because the way the conversation began paralleled the way Yak wants to approach Taem about their relationship - What are we? "Are we datin'? Are we fuckin'? Are we best friends? Are we somethin' in between that?"

But also the nurse stating Yak must care a lot for his lover to get the vaccine and Yak looking immediately at Dee was perfection because 1) safe sex isn't just about you but about the people you are sleeping with,

2) you shouldn't be ashamed of caring about sexual health, so even if you hide behind queer pamphlets, drink water, get the shot, wear the condoms, and use the lube. Also, PrEP isn't just for men just like HPV vaccinations aren't just for women, and

3) it showed that Yak does care enough about DEE, his lover, to take their sexual health seriously -> Yak is on that Bed Friend's King level of sexy, and I'd go through the entire Kama Sutra with them both once all our test results came back clear.

Translations are always iffy but Ter mentioning that Dee wasn't thinking about his professional persona while Yak reminded Dee to not include his face in the pictures and Yei mentioned his brother being fine with Cher when they first started dating gives me hope that this show is going to lean more into the layers of being out because even though that "666" told me Ter was el diablo, he continues to make comments like that and Golf's other show, The Eclipse (which has been featured often in this show) was very much about (not) passing and levels of outness.

Yei and Yak's dad was a world champion boxer, yet he wasn't mentioned in this mom-focused episode and the mom is the one who opened the gym, so is the space that Cher and Yei are giving Yak to figure his feelings out something they weren't given by the father? Because Cher was worried about the pressure Yei was putting on Yak to move up a class.

And if the gym was the mom's, with all of its yellow, is Yak really like his mom as Dee assumed?

Because putting the opening scenes in black and white is an easy flashback technique, but in this particular story, where Yak and his mom are bright yellow, it was a painfully good choice to take the color and brightness out of the scene.

And it was an even better choice to parallel Dee comforting Yak in the same way Yak comforted him with a warmer (yellow) light than his normal purple one.

Because Dee is already in his feelings about Yak without realizing how deep he was, which is why he is wearing a soft yellow while Yak is wearing Dee's fake blue.

When they practiced what Yak would say to Taem, Dee thought about all their moments together, so he is falling quickly, while the signs are pointing out that Yak isn't there yet.

But I wouldn't be there either if I was still daydreaming about this beautiful goddess who always rescues Yak with her brilliance, sassy personality, singular focus, and yellow folders, but that sounds a lot like someone else.

A Purple Prince who is also brilliant and focused on winning but wild and sassy. Good to know Yak has a type. (Sidenote: the music choices swinging between romantic to tension-filled as the scene flipped between Taem and Dee was another great choice)

Because Taem is taken, even if not officially. She matches her guy. She had on a dark brown and black shirt, so he had on a dark brown cardigan with a black tie.

And she had on a brown-striped shirt with a black star, and he had on a brown jacket with black writing and a black tie.

Then again, Dee is no consolation prize. Not looking like that at least.

No wonder Yak is conflicted about what he feels when he looks at Dee because he most certainly is sexually attracted to him because *duh* who wouldn't be attracted to Dee (TER!), but as they sit in Yak's black and yellow room, it becomes more apparent that whatever he is feeling isn't just sexual desire.

And when Dee scratches his back just like his mom used to while tutoring him, it starts to become clearer that Dee, wearing his necklace, and in orange which is sooooo close to yellow fits easily into his life. (Sidenote: Together with Me taught me that in Thai, being itchy is slang for being horny, so good for this show and its layers)

Dee works so well in Yak's life that Yak is willing to get three shots to continue to have sex with him which can take anywhere from eight months to over a year to complete because each dose is spaced out by at least two-to-six months. Basically, Yak committed to a long-term plan . . . with Dee, who is chilling in his yellow-striped shirt.

So it's not surprising that Yak is wearing a deeper blue next week as he holds Dee on the couch since he is far more invested in this fake relationship than he originally intended.

I could write 5,000 more posts about them and this episode which I probably will.

But know that even though the blue Yak is wearing is getting deeper, I will not be satisfied until it turns into purple.

That's when I'll know they are both in love.

[witchwyfe]

best way to spend a summer day - kook friend group

pairing - (non-canon) platonic!kook friend group x female reader, (non canon) platonic!rafe cameron x female reader, (non canon) platonic!topper thornton x female reader, (non canon) platonic!kelce x female reader

précis - golfing with the boys!

content/warnings - mentions of alcohol, alcohol consumption, mentions of food, mentions of eating, language

word count - 818

"What if we--"

"No."

"Please!"

"No."

"Please angel, we'll only do 9 holes and then buy you lunch after." Topper, ever the mediator, offers.

"You were gonna buy me lunch anyway."

Rafe rolls his eyes and you snicker, leaning back in the lounge chair you're resting in.

"I just don't understand why this how y'all want to spend your time. Kelce's internship and Rafe's study abroad start in one month, we're wasting our one month of summer by fucking hitting balls on grass."

You're met with three glares and simultaneous responses.

"Okay, you can't say 'we' if you haven't even been going."

"There is way more technique than just hitting balls."

"Hey!"

"And what would you suggest we do then, mamas?" Kelce asks, raising an eyebrow over his sunglasses. 

Your face warms at being put on the spot, three gazes stuck patiently on you.

"I don't know, shopping on the mainland, movie nights, brunch at the island club--"

"You can have island club drinks on the golf cart!" Rafe exclaims, throwing his arms up before slapping them at his sides. "And we'll get brunch afterwards."

You sigh dramatically. "9 holes? Not 18?"

Rafe smiles, knowing they've already won. "Of course."

Topper picks you up bright and early the next morning, Rafe and Kelce already packed into the backseat with one set of clubs, the other two in the trunk.

"Morning boys." You smile sarcastically, climbing into the front passenger seat.

"Good morning mamas." Kelce smiles. "Thank you for coming."

"Hm, y'all better make it worth my while." You joke.

"Getting to spend time with your best friends isn't worth it?" Rafe asks, feigning offense.

"Shut up," You groan. "You guys know I love you. Even when you make me golf."

They all made a big deal about your new Lululemon golf dress, and promise to take cute pictures of you in the golf cart, all by the time you pull up to the country club.

You juggle your sunglasses, phone, and water bottle once Rafe opens the door for you.

"Thank you Rafe," You smile, reaching up to pinch his cheeks. "You're such a gentleman."

You wait with Kelce while the other two go to get the cart. You let their clubs stay propped up against your legs so that don't fall to the ground.

Topper takes the purple Stanley--that he got you for Christmas--from your hands and sets it into the cup holder. You help them load up their clubs then you're making yourself comfortable in the front again.

"Do they sell cocktails at the beverage carts?" You wonder. "Or should I grab one now before we go?"

"Think they only sell beer, babe." Kelce frowns. "And they don't allow open cups on the course."

You groan, leaning your head back. Rafe digs around in his golf bag, brandishing a small bottle of champagne.

"Don't worry bestie girl, we didn't forget about you." He smiles, shoving the bottle back inside. "Gonna get you some orange juice from the bev cart and you can make a mimosa."

"Rafe!" You cry, throwing your arms around him. "You're the best!"

"I know, I know," He smirks. "Aren't you glad you came with us, now?"

"I guess," You grumble, playfully rolling your eyes.

You sit comfortably in the golf cart, while your friends play, sipping on the mimosa Rafe mixed you, scrolling on social media, and occasionally reminding the boys to reapply their sunscreen.

Kelce even dragged you out to take a swing and they all cheered you on when you failed miserably, taking a sloppy bow before skipping back to the golf cart.

Once you’re back at the club, seated at your favorite table, you’re lightly clasping your mimosa glass in your hand—this one prepared by your waiter and not Rafe with his Blender bottle.

“I think it tasted better when you made it, Rafe.” You frown, taking another sip anyway.

“'Course it did.” He grins smugly. 

You pull a lip gloss from the handy pocket in your golf outfit, coating a thick layer over your lips. You take your napkin and work it over the rim of your glass too, even though you'll get more gloss stuck to it on your next sip.

"You're just one of the boys, aren't you?" Topper teases, just to mess with you.

You cap your gloss and set it on the table, narrowing your eyes into a glare at Topper. "No, I am not."

 "Yeah, she's like our bratty little sister." Rafe pipes up, reaching over the table to steal a handful of your fries. 

"Yeah, I'm the bratty one." You smack Rafe's hand, grinning when he whines. "And I'm literally older than you, Rafe."

"By like two months!" He argues.

"Okay and?" You retort. "Still older."

He makes a point by stealing more of your fries.

"Brat. You know you're the one paying for those, right?"

© witchwyfe 2023. absolutely no reposting, translating, or modifying, even with credit.

[copperbadge]

Sam. I have it: the national game of the ASK. Frisbee bocce…. Or Frisbocce.

I mean, weed IS legal there...:D

I don't know a ton about bocce but I think if you structured frisbee like bocce it'd be nearly identical to frisbee golf as it exists now -- maybe you'd throw large discs at small discs instead of at the "goals" you have on a frisbee golf course? It's an intriguing idea.

What I was thinking about was the fact that bow sports are traditional for hunting and fishing, so there's a lot of competitive target archery. But there aren't a whole lot of big wide open spaces in the country and those that are wide open aren't usually super level. You're looking at either hilly terrain or heavy forest (or both). So if we're talking archery for military use, longbows aren't necessarily an advantage because you're generally not able to see the enemy until you're almost on top of each other. Not that the Shivadh did much warring anyway in the past, they favored defensive ambush.

I can see that a culture which developed a knack for accuracy with a bow might want to take that knack into battle, so I was thinking that there is an extremely specialized "Shivadh shortbow" which is designed for insane accuracy at close range -- not much power behind it, but you don't need much power if you know where to hit. So they have this very portable tool that requires some skill to learn, is highly accurate within about thirty feet, but won't put an arrow through a reasonable amount of padding.

Which means that if you put someone in fencing gear and fire shortbows at them, the arrows stick but don't penetrate. Put two teams together and you've basically invented paintball with crossbows. Undoubtedly created by one of the earlier Dukes of Shivadlakia to train youngsters in close combat technique.

I don't know what it's called yet but I'm riffing on something to do with the Royal Hunt or perhaps the Duke's Game or similar. I bet Gerald volunteers as a referee.

[gabessquishytum]

I’m SO sorry about this but I saw the most ridiculous porn vid premise 2 days ago and immediately had to make it about dreamling for some reason.

Human AU, tw manipulation

Dream’s life is pretty miserable. His family is stinking rich and he’s very sheltered, but his relationship with his siblings is terrible, he’s a disappointment to his mother and his father is not a fan either. That doesn’t stop his father from ordering around and dragging him to events, to which Dream goes because he’s just so eager for any approval.

The latest is a big shindig at the golf club, and of course everyone is going to have to play a bit just to not be rude, but Dream is. SO bad at it. His father has tried to teach him, but he doesn’t have much patience and especially not for Dream.

So, daddy-dearest sends him to golf classes so Dream won’t embarrass him.

Enter Hob, golf instructor. Dream explains the problem and Hob does feel a little bad for this teary-eyed, bitten-lipped kid (he can’t be older than 20) who looks like he’s never stepped outside his mcmansion before, but mostly is very distracted by how gorgeous he is, with that tight little ass in those tiny golf shorts.

Still, Hob has him swing the club a bit and yeah, sure enough Dream is a disaster. His posture is just so bad, his swing. Hob tries explaining the correct technique him, tries demonstrating, genuinely tries! But nothing seems to work, so he resorts to grabbing Dream’s hips, standing behind him, his front flush to his ass, and trying to show him how to pivot around his centre, his body has to move around a fixed point. And huh. That ass really is just as perfect as it looks. Hob can’t help starting to get hard.

Dream tries to swing again and does a little better like this, but he just can’t seem to keep his ass still when he swings, and he’s still missing his swings by a quite a bit. He’s crestfallen about it, he’s so desperate to not disappoint his father, and Hob just can’t see such a sweet thing cry with that perfect ass rubbing against his cock without getting… ideas.

“Well,” he says, ���there is a way pros do it. To really perfect pivoting on your centre, you know? But… it’s really harsh stuff— you know what? Forget it-“

“No!” Dream shouts. He has to please his father. He needs to learn. “Please, Mr Gadling?”

Hob sighs really dramatically.

“Well, it’s a really tough technique, I wouldn’t blame you for tapping out, but it would help you get a sense of that pivot in no time…”

“Will you stop dithering and just tell me what it is? I need to get good, no matter how!”

“Well,” Hob says, “I could stand behind you, just like this, and put my cock inside you.” Dream’s mouth falls open in shock, but Hob continues: “I know, it’s not for the faint of heart, but I’d just stand still behind you and with my cock inside you you’d have something to pivot around easily, once you get the motion you’ll form the right muscle memory real quick and you’re done.”

Dream is red in the face and a bit speechless.

“That seems… extreme.”

Hob shrugs.

“That’s how the pros do it to really perfect their stance, but again, you don’t need to be perfect, you’ve already improved a bit. I’m sure you can improve a little more before the day’s done.”

That does it for Dream.

“No, I must see if this helps as dramatically as you say.”

He lowers his own shorts and pants immediately, putting his pretty pink hole on display, and Hob is fully hard instantly.

Thankfully, Hob keeps some massage oil in his bag for long days trekking on the green, and has been know to find a quiet spot to rub on out in his cart on slow days, so he knows it’s safe to use as lube. He lubes up quick, and puts just one finger in Dream for a moment (after all, this is supposed to be harsh training, not for anyone’s pleasure, he doesn’t want Dream to catch on. Besides, Dream will surely chicken out, might as well seize the chance).

Hob presses the tip of his cock to Dream’s hole, and Dream barely has the time to get the words “I have never” out before Hob sinks in to the hilt.

Dream keens and bends right in half.

“I’d never- I’d never-“ he half-sobs, half-moans.

Hob understands, because Dream is tight. He feels fantastic. Hob absolutely has to drag this out as long as possible.

“That’s even better,” he says cheerily, “it wouldn’t work as well if you were used to it.”

“R-really?”

“Of course.”

“I’m not sure this will help me…”

He’s shaking so bad, weak-kneed and breathing hard, and clenching so so beautifully around Hob’s cock.

Hob thinks he’s starting to figure Dream out a bit, so he says: “It absolutely will, but I did say it wasn’t easy. If it’s too difficult we can always stop-“

“No, no, please, I have to— but, how-“

“You have to straighten up, straighten your legs, hold the club firmly.”

Hob stays where he is, doesn’t lift a finger to help. Just keeps his hands grasping Dream’s hips, keeping himself buried to the hilt. He’s enjoying this immensely. Dream is so tight and squirming so good that he could make Hob come without Hob needing to move a muscle.

Dream tries, he really does, but he can’t. He just can’t stop shaking. Mr Gadling’s cock feels huge inside him, it’s so overwhelming, and he just can’t stand straight. He’s so scared to disappoint his father, though, he almost starts crying he’s so upset.

Hob sighs.

“Fine. I’ll help you. but only the once, yes?”

He pulls back, then thrusts back in hard.

Dream whips upright, gasping, back nearly flush to Hob’s chest.

“There, all better, isn’t it? Now, grip the club like I showed you, and try a swing.”

Dream’s arms and legs are still trembling, but he does try… and the ball goes almost right where he aimed. Hob’s cock inside him really does help him swing correctly! Dream is overjoyed, and Hob is so kind to keep passing him balls so Dream can bend over and place them down. And if he struggles to stand upright, Hob is always ready to thrust into him again to straighten him up.

Thing is, after Dream starts getting the hang of the motion and is less and less distraught and has to think less about the technique, he starts to really focus on Mr Gadling’s cock, and how nice it feels, especially when he thrusts in! It’s too bad he only does that when Dream can’t straighten on his own… so Dream starts to pretend to struggle. And Mr Gadling is so kind to oblige him every time! Dream is even able to stay bent in half after a thrust sometimes now he’s getting used to the feeling, and he needs two, three, four thrusts to be readjusted. And it feels. So. Good. Dream is completely overcome by it, until he can’t take it anymore. He has to pretend he’s just so tired and can’t keep his back straight, so Mr Gadling will have to keep thrusting.

Dream only means to do it for a little while, just to experience how it feels, but it’s. fucking amazing. The rhythmic slide of Hob’s cock and the slap of Hob’s balls on Dream’s hole, and before he knows it Dream is mewling and whimpering, and soon after the club is abandoned so he can touch himself… that’s when Hob’s hand closes around his.

“You know what I think, Dream? I think you’re enjoying this. I think you’re taking advantage of me to get your arse fucked instead of using my cock to learn. Now, that’s very naughty. You’re such a little slut, aren’t you? Maybe, if you cum, we can go back to learning.”

Then Hob actually starts fucking Dream. Continuous thrusts, never stopping to see if Dream will straighten his back this time. Dream hadn’t even realized that Hob had barely been fucking him before! He fucks Dream so fast and hard, cock pressing against Dream’s prostate on each stroke, and Dream very soon cums so hard he sees stars, all over himself.

Hob slows down a lot, waits for Dream to be able to speak.

“W-will we return to the lesson now, Mr Gadling?”

“Not yet.” Hob slams his cock hard back into Dream. It almost hurts. “If you think you’re so good already that you can slack off, you can try training without my cock.”

Before Dream can beg forgiveness, Hob starts fucking into Dream in earnest again, until Dream’s ass is stinging with the fast slapping of skin against it. Dream almost thinks he might cum again until Hob cums inside him. It feels like so much to Dream, and when Hob pulls out it starts dripping out so easily before Hob stops it with a finger. Hob cleans his cock off on the inside of Dream’s pants, then pulls them and the shorts up high and tight. Dream instinctively clenches up as he feels Hob’s cum start to soil his pants.

“There, clench those cheeks, love. See if that helps you keep that lovely arse still while you swing.”

Dream’s face burns with humiliation. He’s half-hard already and wants to come again so badly, Hob’s cum feels so good inside him! But he has to obey his instructor, or he won’t get better! It’s incredibly hard to keep his ass clenched while spreading his legs to swing, but his stance and aim are so improved!

By the end of the lesson, he’s hitting every hole, and he’s so happy! His father is vaguely satisfied, and decides to keep sending Dream to Hob for lessons, Dream enjoys golf a lot more now that he’s good at it, and whenever he’s anxious or frustrated or sad about things happening at home, after a while Dream doesn’t even have to pretend he needs a refresher on the right stance anymore, Hob is always willing to just fuck him so Dream can feel better!

(I have never in my life played golf, please don’t @ me)

PA

PA ANON you have scored a hole in one with this one. Oh my goodness, what a delicious treat. I am so obsessed with golf instructor Hob, I think I may actually be blushing.

Can you imagine how delightfully mean Hob is to Dream? Dream is a sheltered little posh boy and he's so easy to manipulate. One of Hob’s favourite games is making Dream go hunting for golf balls all around a 18 hole course - all with Hob’s cum inside his own cute little hole. Hob punishes him if he lets any of the cum escape while he's fetching the balls - his favourite method of punishment involves putting one entire fist inside Dream while he tries to practice his swing. When Dream trembles and falters, Hob uses his free hand to help adjust his grip... all while wearing Dream on his other hand like a glove.

He makes sure that Dream always addresses him as "Mr Gadling". He can't have the little rich-boy getting too snooty and thinking that he's too good to be fucked. Not when he was clearly made to be Hob’s pretty fuck toy. But if he is good, maybe Hob will take Dream up to the clubhouse sometime... and show off his pretty, hardworking student to all his appreciative friends <3

[imabeautifulbutterfly]

The Gym Membership - Part 35 (Crosshair)

Summary: The Axe Event continues

A/N: Hello Lovelies,

Well I had a nice day today, someone told me they loved me. Of course, it was an 80 year old patient, but hey I'll take an 'I love you' any day. It was adorable.

So I just noticed that I also just gained 100 extra followers since my last celebration. I'm sitting at 550! To my new followers, WELCOME! To my old, THANK YOU for staying around. I know you have all been patient with my uploads on my other stories, and I do apologize for that. Thank you for sticking, it means a lot. I was thinking of writing at least ten chapters for each story first before I started uploading, but I think I'll just write and upload as we go along, but stick to the 1000 word limit I've set for myself.

If you guys have a different opinion, just drop a line and let me know.

I know I've used this GIF before, but I mean... look at him.

Love oo

Warnings: Liquor, axe throwing discussion, attempts at flirting, very close touching, annoyed, drinking, competition. I think that's it, if I miss any warnings, please let me know.

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Crosshair’s hands clenched by his side, at Rob’s attempt of flirting. It wasn’t so much that Layla was getting hit on that bothered him, it was the way Rob was eyeing her. He could tell his brothers were having issues with this man as well. Crosshair looked at Hunter, a silent agreement they would teach this man a lesson or two. He turned his focus back to Layla and Rob, ready to step in if the occasion called for it.  

Rob’s smile was sweet, but … a little too sweet for my liking, almost as though he was putting on airs, to get me to drop my guard down. He held out his hand expecting me to hold it as he guided me over, however when I didn’t take it, he simply smirked as I walked over and stood beside him. He cleared his throat and handed me one of the three axes he had in his hand. 

I gripped the handle, getting used to the weight, as I tried to align myself with the target.

“All right, beautiful, are you right or left handed?”

“Ummm either and the name’s Layla.”

Rob chuckled, “What’s wrong with beautiful?”

I narrowed my eyes at him, “I’m more than just a pretty face. Not everyone is focused on how they look.”

Crosshair couldn’t help but smile at her stance, he let out a quiet chuckle, a red tint appearing on his ears. 

Rob smiled awkwardly and nodded, clearing his throat, “Right. So Layla, Right or left handed?”

“As I said previously, either.”

“What do you mean either? What are you ambidextrous?”

“Yes.” The statement was plain simple and to the point, yet the look on Rob’s face was one of disbelief and annoyance. 

“Me too” Tech’s voice called out from behind me, I chuckled and high-fived him.

“Oookay…” Rob flipped the one of the two axes in his hand, simply nodding as though all of the sudden he found himself out of his depth. He cleared his throat one more time, before his confident demeanour came back, “Well in that case,” he smiled as he looked into my eyes, “whichever hand you decide to use, use the opposite foot to put forward. Got it.”

“Yup.”

“Great. Now Layla, let’s start with the two-handed technique; it helps if you keep your thumbs lined up, similar to a golf club.”

Crosshair watched as Rob continued instructing her, his eyes laser focused and narrowing as he noticed Rob getting a little too close for his comfort, although Layla didn’t say anything nor did she seem to be reacting much to his presence. A warm angry sensation started to churn in his stomach, when he noticed how Rob shifted to stand behind Layla, gently wrapping his arms around her, as he adjusted her grip on the axe from behind. His head positioned over her shoulder trying to get a better angle to see what she was doing.

He let out a sigh, Layla didn’t look bothered nor had she glanced over to him or anyone else, to ask for help. He turned his focus to his brothers to see what they were doing since they had a total of four lanes. Hunter was helping Zai, even though she really didn’t need it. Wrecker was assisting Mel, although she was simply looking for an excuse to touch his muscles, meanwhile, Echo and Sofie had gone to get pitchers of beer for everyone. 

“If it bothers you why don’t you go over and instruct her?” Tech’s voice was low and full of tension as he spoke to Crosshair. Although things between the two of them had gotten better, there was still a slight bit of tension, mainly because he hadn’t completely forgiven Cross from harbouring such a secret for so long. 

“It’s not bothering me” Cross stated as he took a swig of the beer Echo brought back, after he nodded his thanks.

“Tell that to your clenched fist and jaw.”

“Crosshair, wanna try?” I motioned him over, and held out the axe to him. Rob decided that my complete and utter lack of interest was no longer an entertainment for him, as he finally backed off. 

Cross swallowed the rest of his beer, he swaggered over towards Layla, smirking as he took the axe from her hand; he flipped it back and forth, spinning it in the palm of his hand as he took a step back, from the designated throwing line.  

“Pick a spot” he looked at Layla, a subtle grin on his lips. 

“Sorry?” I was lost at his request, my eyebrow furrowing in confusion.

“On the target” he motioned with his head, “pick a spot.”

I tried to suppress a chuckle at his audacity, “I’m sorry, you want me to pick up a spot on the target? Anywhere?” He nodded, “Oh, okay um … the bullseye.”

“Really?” He quirked his eyebrow, letting out a sigh as he relented. He lined himself up with the target, standing 16 feet from the target, he placed his foot forward, and without even any force he threw the axe and hit the bullseye dead centre.

My jaw dropped open as he hit it dead centre, “W-wow … that’s …” 

“Oh that’s nothing” Hunter chuckled as he came over smacking Cross on the shoulder. He looked at Rob, “Mind if I make a quick doodle?”

“Ugh, sure … go ahead” Rob was shocked as well, he’d been known as the most proficient axe thrower at the company, but even he never moved further than the designated 12 foot throwing line. 

Hunter took a pen and doodled a happy face on the board, it was tiny, he placed it on the third ring, in the upper right hand corner. “Alright, Cross, that’s your target.” He gave a proud smile as he walked away from the target. 

Cross waited until the area was clear and safe for him. Tech gave him a glass of a beer, he took a swig before handing it back to his younger brother. Nodding his thanks. He released the axe before anyone was the wiser, nailing his target dead centre.

“Whoa!” Zai couldn’t hold back her admiration. 

“That’s crazy” Mel smirked

“That’s just luck,” Rob offered.

Wrecker chuckled, “Do you know how many people say that?”

“There’s no way, he hit it.” 

“Why don’t we have a friendly match?” Crosshair offered, as his toothpick swished from side to side. 

“You’re on”

Rob took the spot beside Crosshair, picking up his axe, “Call it”

“Very well, the blue dot on the right corner, the ten pointer”

“Done” Rob stood at his mark, his back straight, he lifted his arm and threw the axe, hitting the ten pointer, dead centre.

Cross nodded at his opponent, “Not bad. For someone standing on the line.” He mocked.

“Why not draw a target for me, we’ll see who the better thrower is.” 

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[melonisopod]

Why do schools in India have architectural techniques to keep their buildings sustainable and cooler in practical ways and meanwhile Phoenix is tearing up more and more desert to put down asphalt (traps in heat) and concrete buildings (also trap in heat) build golf courses (require thousands of gallons of water to maintain) and pump out tons of money to run air conditioning because we have record highs in October?

This is an actual environmental concern for the ecosystem AND a huge health concern for people who have to be outside for any length of time. We need regulations on what's allowed to be built and where because people in Arizona build irresponsibly.

[macrogolf12]

The Claw Grip Putter: A Unique Approach to Improve Your Golf Game

For many golfers, finding the right putter grip is just as important as choosing the right club. Among the many different grip styles available, the Claw Grip Putter has emerged as a unique and effective choice for players who are looking to improve their putting performance. This unconventional grip technique offers several benefits and is particularly favored by golfers who struggle with controlling their putting stroke. In this blog, you will dive deep into the key factors of the Claw Grip Putter, its special impressions, and why it may be the perfect fit for certain golfers.

Special Impressions of the Claw Grip Putter

While the Claw Grip Putter may look unusual, its effectiveness has made it a preferred choice for many professional and amateur golfers alike. The grip style gives the putter a very distinctive feel, which can initially feel strange to some players. However, once mastered, it provides a solid foundation for making more accurate and controlled putts.

One of the most significant advantages of the Claw Grip is that it promotes a sense of relaxation in the hands and arms. Golfers who use a conventional grip often experience tension in their hands and wrists, which can negatively impact their putting stroke. The Claw Grip helps reduce this tension, allowing for a smoother and more fluid stroke.

In addition to its physical benefits, the Claw Grip Putter can have a psychological advantage. Many golfers experience the yips or feel anxiety when faced with short, pressure-filled putts. The Claw Grip can help alleviate some of this anxiety by making the putting stroke feel more mechanical and less reliant on fine motor control. This sense of reassurance can help players remain calm and focused during their round, which is crucial when attempting crucial putts.

Who Should Use the Claw Grip Putter?

The Claw Grip Putter is not for everyone, but it can be a game-changer for golfers who struggle with certain aspects of their putting game. For players who experience the yips or have trouble controlling their wrists, the Claw Grip can provide the stability and confidence needed to improve their putting performance. Additionally, golfers who tend to push or pull putts may benefit from the more controlled stroke that the Claw Grip encourages.

The Claw Grip Putter offers golfers a unique way to enhance their putting game. Its ability to reduce wrist movement, promote stability, and encourage a smoother stroke has made it a popular choice among players who want to improve their short game. While it may not be for everyone, those who struggle with wrist control or the yips may find that the Claw Grip helps to unlock their true putting potential. As with any golf technique, practice and patience are key to mastering the Claw Grip Putter and reaping its benefits on the course.

[noodyl-blasstal]

I'll grab your balls if you grab mine (TAZNC day 3)

It's day 3 of @taznovembercelebration and today's card was "coworkers AU." Prepare to, once again, get your stupid on - it's gay chicken but also there's an aligator. You can read today's below or on Ao3, and read yesterday's here.

--

Kravitz starts the slow sideways shuffle towards the lake. "C'mon, Taako. I know that Artemis is probably here, but he might leave us alone today." Kravitz doesn’t really believe himself, but they have to go, they’ve been putting off the lake by hole number 8 for weeks and it’s a particularly lucrative spot.

"He won't." Taako says, resigned. "He never does. Smug bastard. He knows we're just doing our job and he doesn't give a shit. I’ve explained it to him, I’ve asked Garyl to as well. Nothing helps. He’s a bastard."

"I'm not sure he considers it that much, he's an alligator, he's not exactly au fait with the concept of people jobs." Kravitz has long vowed to stop trying to convince Taako that Artemis is just being an animal and not holding some specific grudge against them. The resolve always lasts until Taako started talking about it, at which point he forgets said vow until it’s far too late.

"What? You think he thinks we do this for fun? Just pop down to put a sight on nothing because you can see fuck all down there? Absolutely not. He knows this is work stuff, Krav. If he was angry about capitalism he could go chomp the bosses, nuh uh, this is about us taking his balls."

"You have to stop referring to our job as..."

"We're ball collectors, Krav, ball connoisseurs, ball grabbers, ball appreciators. Don't be embarrassed, I don't judge you, we’re good at it."

Kravitz wonders absently if putting on his mask early will make Taako stop. It won’t, he knows it won't, it wouldn't be the first time he'd tried it, but today could be his lucky day? Maybe if he shuffles faster into the lake it’ll stop him? But no, it's not safe to go down without Taako, they've got to set their watches and do all the health and safety stuff. Kravitz knows from experience that Taako can happily talk through it.

"It's absolutely fine to make a career of grabbing balls with your good friend Taako. Sometimes you even grab my balls."

"Taako!" Kravitz is going to expire, he was going to burst into dust and float away on the wind, and fucking Artemis would probably try and eat him anyway because he is a complete bastard, but Kravitz can't admit that to Taako because it'll only encourage him more. It wouldn’t be so bad if he could just hate Taako, go to Sloane’s after a hard day and complain about his awful coworker. No no, he had to find it charming.

"It's okay, you can admit it. You grab my balls and, honestly, I like it. Saves me a job." Taako's grinning his stupid big grin and there's pond weed tangling around Kravitz's fins, and he wishes more than anything that he was somewhere in Australia or something right now, clear water, a delightful reef, he could go murder the invasive starfish or something. Starfish assassin was a better job than ball grabber.

"Well, shall we get started then?" A valiant effort, he can keep them on track probably.

"Of course, I wouldn't want to keep you from all the balls you have to touch."

"Look, you're running out of material, if we dive now you can go out on a high."

"Fondle? I didn't say fondle yet."

"If you're fondling them then you're wasting time. There's a reason I always get the most."

"It's certainly not skill if you're rushing it." Taako wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. "Want me to talk you through the finer points of the process sometime?"

"I don't need to seduce the golf balls and my bedroom technique is fantastic thanks. Now get in the lake, Taako."

There's a loud splashing noise as Taako falls into the shallows cackling. Great. It takes him an age to calm down when he gets like this. "Fantastic... bedroom technique... Bedroom technique!" Is all Kravitz can hear repeated between the mirthful snorts. Kravitz thinks it might just be easier to let Artemis have his way with him at this point. If he dies in the line of duty then Taako will have to be nice about him, well, in public at least, he can say what he wants in private. They might build a statue too! It’d be in the middle of the lake or something, that's about the level of sensitivity he'd expect from their employers, but his Mums would probably appreciate it.

"You'll..." Taako throws a bit of pond weed off his stupid handsome face. "...have to show me that technique sometime, stud."

Kravitz freezes, not just because of the cold biting at his knees. He wishes the dry suits were warmer. "Did you just offer to go fuck me?"

"I offered to let you fuck me, actually. You can't go showing off and not being willing to back it up." Taako looks wildly unruffled, as if he hasn't just propositioned a co-worker on a Tuesday morning. Not that the day should matter, but honestly, it's Friday behaviour if anything.

"I... You..." Kravitz stands there like a particular stupid penguin. Maybe if he doesn't move Taako won't be able to see him... In his brightly coloured BCD with an oxygen tank strapped to his back... Fuck.

"Come on then Kravitz, we haven't got all day." Taako says breezily, finally back on his feet and crab stepping past Kravitz with a smug smile.

Fine. Fine! If Taako wants to be like this then Kravitz can match his energy. No problem. He can be fun, he can be playful. "Certainly not. Apparently we have plans tonight." He pushes forward into the lake, smiles as Taako coughs a surprised laugh behind him but doesn't give him time to reply. "Turn round, I forgot to tug your weight pouches on land."

Taako shuffles in what’s probably meant to be an alluring semicircle, he seems to be looking at Kravitz more intently than usual.

“Is that everything done, ‘cause Breathing Water Really Ain’t Fun!” Taako asks as Kravitz double checks his kit.

“We’re good, unless you need to inspect me?”

“Apparently Taako gets to do that later.” Taako says, then quickly launches himself into the water, splashing Kravitz in the face. Taako scrambles for his mask. “Get in loser, it’s lovely and warm!”

It is not lovely and warm. It’s cold and miserable. Kravitz's face however, is toasty warm from the blush burning there. He's surely not going to fuck Taako just to try and out fluster him… is he? Kravitz would like to. It’s not that he hasn’t thought about fucking Taako before, but Taako won't go along with it… will he? He hasn’t expressed any interest before now.

They do the last checks for loose straps or hoses and, satisfied, head down into the murk. Kravitz wonders, not for the first time, if his past self thought he'd be diving crystal clear waters somewhere fabulous by this point in his life, not using his scuba qualification to retrieve golf balls from gross man made lakes.

It's important to be relatively methodical, so they set off on their usual route, a slow backwards and forwards sweep of the lake bed. They can only see 15 feet in any direction , so it's slow going. They save the drop off for the end - the inexplicably deep portion attracts balls like a magnet. Why have an easy retrieval when you could have a hard one?

The bottom is so goopy, Kravitz truly detests it. Taako jokingly stuck a fin in one time and Kravitz still isn't convinced all the gunk came off. He hates having to reach in and grab the balls nestled in it - sinking so slowly that they always get to them before they're submerged (one time the bosses made them dig into the muck with a horrible plastic sieve to check, nothing seemed to penetrate the choking layer.)

There's still no sign of trouble when they're mid way through the ascent and Kravitz is starting to hope Artemis had decided to leave them alone today, miracles can happen. Maybe he has finally remembered that he's supposed to be nocturnal? Sadly, instead, Artemis has remembered he's supposed to lurk in the shallows.

Kravitz feels Taako yanking him violently before he even sees Artemis. His jaws snap at the space Kravitz left behind. A chunk of bubbles escape Taako and Kravitz can almost hear the swearing. Kravitz forces himself to breathe instead of holding it, the last thing he needs is to explode his lungs. He just has to not die in the next 10 minutes and he's getting laid apparently? Maybe Taako forgot, but either way, living would be good.

They look frantically around, stuck at their last levelling stop until the watches tell them they can move on. Artemis swoops back on Taako's side this time, but Taako is ready, jabs him in the side of the head where you're supposed to. Kravitz hates that management thought that the "how to fight an alligator" leaflet was more appropriate than safely relocating him to protect staff. It's not like they asked for them all to be moved, the others were fine. Garyl let Taako scritch his belly! It was just that Artemis was 'uniquely shit'. Kravitz is fairly sure that's the exact phrase Taako put in the latest complaint (to no avail).

Artemis disappears briefly, they hang in the water, waiting on the watches. Any minute now, surely? Kravitz looks hard into the murky waters trying to anticipate Artemis' next move. The watch beeps just as he strikes again, heading for Taako’s ankle this time. Kravitz stamps down as hard as he can (water and fins making this ‘not particularly hard’), it’s enough to distract Artemis though. He turns to snap at Kravitz instead, but Taako’s grabbing Kravitz’s arm and pulling him upwards. They finally break the surface and run, inelegant and flappy, hands tangled, laughing while pondweed snares their ankles and they tug each other along. Taako’s stood flamingo-like in the shallows, one hand on Kravitz’s shoulder for balance, the other trying to remove his fins, when Artemis surfaces again. They’re so close, so close to getting out. Kravitz refuses to let Taako getting eaten get in the way of whatever is going on between them right now. Fuck it. He grabs Taako and slings him over his shoulder - grateful for the fire evacuation training they did, there’s no way he could carry him any other way right now. Okay, so maybe he forgot to factor in the extra weight they’re both wearing and how fucking awkward the tanks make this, but it’s fine, he doesn’t have to go far. He keeps his knees high, makes sure he gets enough clearance on his fins and runs as fast (very slowly) as possible.

Taako whoops in delight and Kravitz is nearly 100% certain he’s giving Artemis the finger behind his back. “Fuck you, Fartemis! Taako lives to ride another day!” There’s a pause, Kravitz swears he hears a muttered… “Or maybe tonight.”

Kravitz deposits Taako much less elegantly than he hoped, but far enough away from the lake that he’s fairly sure they’re safe. “You saved my life!”

“I saved your ankle, at best.”

“You saved Taako’s favourite ankle!”

“You have a favourite ankle?” Kravitz asks, incredulous. Of course Taako has a favourite ankle, he probably has a favourite ear too. Why wouldn’t he?

“It’s weirder not to, ask anyone.” Taako skrunkles up his nose in distaste.

“I’ll do that.” Kravitz says, already deciding Sloane will probably agree. Maybe Kraivtz is wrong?

As the adrenaline fades Kravitz has a creeping awareness that he’s still holding Taako’s hand. It’s awkward, suddenly. He can’t tell if he should let go or cling on. No idea if Taako has been joking this whole time and he’s missing it. He doesn’t want to end up in a HR meeting. They’re dripping onto the golf course, bags of balls secured at their waists, pond weed stuck to their legs, Kravitz has no idea what to say, no idea what to do. He should probably apologise for unceremoniously grabbing Taako, but honestly, Taako seemed to enjoy it.

“So your place or mine tonight, handsome?” Taako pulls off his mask and snorkel properly to allow him to wink at Kravitz. There’s a dribble of muddy water running down his cheek. For a brief second Kravitz debates licking it off.

Kravitz takes a moment to consider Taako’s question. He’s seen the state of Taako’s locker, he’s not sure he can take that on a grander scale. “Mine.” He says definitively. He changed the sheets yesterday and they can stop and get supplies on the way, he’s not exactly set up for this. Maybe he needs to declare that actually. “I… er… I, I don’t really do this, Taako.”

“Do what, exactly, Kraveroo?”

“You know.” Kravitz flaps his hand. Surely Taako has caught his very obvious drift.

Taako looks at him blankly. “Interpretive dance?”

“One night stands!” Kravitz says, louder than he means to. Glances furtively around to ensure none of the customers are zipping by on their golf trollies just waiting to put in a complaint about lewd language being used on the course.

“Well Taako wasn’t planning on this being a one time thing, he’s heard there’s a ‘fantastic bedroom technique’ on offer and he plans to test it out thoroughly.”

Kravitz smiles, he can flirt with Taako, he can take Taako home, he can impress him. “We’ll figure out a rubric while we shower - we can do some extensive testing. I look forward to your feedback.”

--

I hope you enjoyed! Find the next day here.

[gaast]

The video game industry is worth more than the film and music industries combined and I swear the only monographs that deal critically with games are those in game studies fields. You're about as likely to see a monograph do a close reading on a film as a book, and yet other narrative media tend to be underrepresented.

This isn't to say that because video games have so much economic value that they therefore must have value to critical theory and attendant discourses, but rather I think it demonstrates the very odd position that video games are in. Frankly, they're still seen as vulgar, and certainly too much so to merit critical treatment. This is a failure of scholarship. Pong, for example, was one of the first commercially successful video games, and it acted as something of a stand-in for table tennis. The arcade cabinet made table tennis more accessible to the public, who would otherwise require enough space, bodily ability, and access to a table (typically requiring wealth) to engage with the sport.

There's a tendency in some critical modalities to view sports and games as reproductions of capitalist imperatives to compete, win, and reign supreme. It's a rather reductive view of play that in many cases puts the cart before the horse. As esports leagues have shown, we played games against each other long before capitalists exploited our joy as labor.

In any case, Pong made more accessible certain physical modes of play that could very easily be impossible for the average American consumer to enjoy in 1971. Indeed, most sport is inaccessible, whether because of space (golf, association football), equipment (gridiron football), or the physical ability necessary to complete the basics of its play (hockey). The joys of playing table tennis were thus democratized in the arcade.

Sports sims developed over time but never lost their popularity. Titles like Tennis, Baseball, Tecmo Bowl, and Duck Hunt eventually gave rise to Punch-Out!!, which, uniquely among these examples, carried the implicit themes that made motion-picture successes like Rocky so indelible: the underdog can overcome seemingly insurmountable odds. Even a short king from the Bronx can defeat heavyweight boxing legend Mike Tyson with the right combination of skill, luck, and determination.

Interestingly, Punch-Out!!'s successful application of narrative technique didn't reframe the sports sim as a potential vehicle for narrative. Titles like Street Fighter II became successful less because they featured characters whose stories compelled audiences but rather because the technical achievements available in them hewed closer to the ideal of sport in general. By this I mean that I believe audiences, particularly sportswatching audiences, understand better than television executives that the hope for every game watched is that the game itself will be elegant and beautiful according to the specific sport. You don't have to be a fan of either team to enjoy a well-played Super Bowl because the art created on the field is universally appreciable so long as you can recognize the specific ways that gridiron football creates that beauty.

In this way we can recognize that narrative isn't a requirement of sports sims because, while individual sports seasons are enhanced by the narratives surrounding them, even in a vacuum these games can produce art in and of themselves. As such, it makes sense that licensing agreements would be made with sports leagues for permission to use their teams' and players' names and likenesses for their game products, as it is easier to make a beautiful game out of professionals at the highest, most difficult settings of their sports than it would be for amateur equivalents.

This is not to say that such considerations are necessarily consciously in mind when players purchase a sports sim. Rather, players enter into the basic contract that these games offer: play me, and you will have fun.

I also suggest that having a ludic sandbox available to them can help players engage with their favorite teams in a low-stakes way, thus offering numerous benefits to them perhaps better described in an essay examining sports fandom specifically.

In any case, ignoring the fundamental artform of each sport enables a quite crass view sports fandom in general. I believe that the very belief that sports are not art engenders the nasty comments you often hear of athletes, especially in the MLB. "These guys get paid to stand around for two and a half hours. And they get paid MILLIONS!" Of course, team owners agree. They also believe that players should be paid much less.

While art can sometimes elicit similar comments ("This Jeff Koons sculpture sold for HOW much? It's just a balloon animal!"), the so-called "legitimate" arts don't. A van Gogh of course deserves its price tag. Jaws of course should have cost millions of dollars to film.

Worth noting, of course, is that Jaws is an adaptation of a novel published a year earlier. Considered by critics at the time to feature simplistic characterizations, its suspense worked, and its marketing campaign made it widely-read. Jaws, the film, made enough improvements to the source text that its quality far outpaced the novel's, and it in turn became the archetypal summer blockbuster. This type of film is now generally regarded as being oversaturated and of low quality--and therefore of vulgar character.

Jaws was distributed to theaters in 1975, 4 years after Pong was put in arcades.

While film had to decay from art to trash, games started as trash and never elevated themselves (all of this, of course, in the critical consideration of the masses). And yet both Jaws and Pong represent the simple beauty of sport and competition--framed in different ways, yes, but with heroic underdogs, the uncertainty of victory, the elegance of struggle, sacrifice and strategy, all of this contributing to an experience of basic human cognitive joy, exultation in a play well-executed, a scene well-shot, a button well-pressed.

It's time to recognize such beauty where it is.

[paladin--strait]

Hockey hearts looks sooo cool so I’m putting my request in :p

League : nhl

Interests: reading, crocheting, I love hiking, and cooking :)

Physical preference: tall and somewhat muscular, any hair color but I prefer brunette

Love languages: quality time

Other: I live on the east coast

your match is...

braden schneider!

braden loves spending time with you! brings you everywhere with him if possible, always having to touch you and make sure that you're there and not gonna wander off somewhere. he's also kind of a wanderer so if he lets go of your hand, he's afraid that he might accidentally lose you in a crowd. helps you around the house or apartment with chores and stuff like that. he loves to cook for you, always learning new recipes and techniques from cooking shows and cooking books.

he loves to cuddle! like i said previously, he always has to have a hand or both on your body somehow. only the middle of the bed gets used since the two of you end up cuddling in the dead of the night, legs tangled together while the two of you wrap your arms around each other. a fan or two is definitely needed in your bedroom because even if it's hot, the two of you will never fail to end up snuggled up together somehow.

braden takes you to play mini golf on your first date, reaching you how to play if you're not sure. but, if you know how then he hangs back and watches as you do your thing before it's his turn to hit the small golf ball. his height makes mini golf a little awkward, but he'll gladly get a pain in his back if it means you're happy. the two of you laugh and learn new things about each other as you guys play. as you and braden take back the golf balls and golf clubs, he tells you about how much of a great time he's had with you and would like to take you out again sometime. do you accept?

[thesocietyprince]

Oh, is that DEVRAN SAHIN? I heard the THIRTY-SIX year old is COURAGEOUS. But don’t let that pretty face fool you, they are also EGOTISTICAL. Makes sense seeing how they are a LEADER in THE SOCIETY.

wc. pinterest.

Basics.

full name: Devran Fadel Sahin nickname(s): Dev age: Thirty-Six birthdate: July 26th star sign: Leo gender: Cismale pronouns: He/Him sexuality: Bisexual Birthplace: Staten Island, NY current residence: Staten Island, NY languages: Turkish, English, Spanish, and some French.

Reflection.

face claim: berk cankat hair color: chestnut brown eye color: light brown height: 6’0” build: lean, athletic build tattoos: a large compass on his right shoulder scars: too many to keep track of

Personality.

characteristics: ambitious, fearless, confident, arrogant, stubborn, creative, sweet talker, pretentious, self-absorbed, selfish, energetic, persistent, supportive, demanding, socially active, egoistic, responsible, the perfectionist, ready to take challenges, possessive fears: failure and decaf coffee passions/hobbies: painting, drawing, baseball, lock picking, origami, collecting and restoring vintage cars, kickboxing, feeding the birds in the park, golf, tennis, and target practice character inspo: tony stark (iron man), bruce wayne (the dark knight), jordan belfort (wolf of wall street), logan huntzberger (gilmore girls), lando calrissian (star wars) drugs/ alcohol/ smoking: yes / yes / no colors: a combination of classic neutrals, black, navy, charcoal, and rich jewel tones: emerald green, royal blue, and a deep burgundy. 

Backstory.

Devran Şahin was born with the weight of a legacy on his shoulders. As the firstborn son of Ahmet Şahin, the infamous leader of the Society—a New York-based syndicate renowned for its mastery of art heists and elaborate thefts—Devran’s future was set in stone. From an early age, he was groomed to one day take the reins of his father’s empire. But being the heir to such an empire wasn’t simply a privilege; it was a burden.

The Golden Son

Growing up in the lap of luxury, Devran had everything that money could buy. He attended the finest schools and spent weekends cruising through exclusive parties with his charming smile, tousled hair, and a reputation as the ultimate trust-fund playboy. To the outside world, Devran was the golden child—charming, carefree, and always the center of attention at New York’s most elite gatherings. He was a man of paradoxes: polished and graceful by day, a reckless adventurer by night. Yet, beneath the surface of high society’s glittering veneer, Devran was being carefully shaped for a very different kind of future. His father, Ahmet, had a singular vision for his son. He was to inherit the Society, yes, but only if he proved worthy. There was no room for weakness, no space for indulgence. Devran’s upbringing wasn’t filled with soft lessons of privilege; instead, it was a strict training regimen that taught him the art of manipulation, the power of charm, and the precision needed to execute high-profile heists without leaving a trace. While his classmates were focused on getting into Ivy League schools, Devran was absorbing blueprints of art museums, studying security systems, mastering sleight-of-hand techniques, and learning how to read people like an open book. Every lesson was designed to sharpen his mind and prepare him for the world of shadows and deceit that ran beneath the glittering surface of New York.

There was a time, however, when Devran considered escaping the life his father had planned for him. He dreamt of running away with his lover, starting fresh somewhere far from the shadows of his family’s empire. But his father swiftly put an end to that idea—and the relationship—when he found out. "You will not embarrass this family," Ahmet had said, his voice seething with fury. That moment was a sharp reminder to Devran: no matter where his heart wandered, he was bound to the legacy of the Şahins.

A Mother’s Love and a Father’s Shadow Devran’s mother, Defne Şahin, was the heart of the family—a beacon of warmth in a world that often felt cold and calculating. Her love for art, culture, and humanity influenced Devran deeply. She shielded him from the harsh realities of their world as much as she could, nurturing his creative side and allowing him to dream of a life outside the shadows. Her sudden death during the COVID-19 pandemic shattered the delicate balance in Devran’s life. Losing her was like losing the light that guided him. For his father, Ahmet, Defne’s death marked a turning point. Grieving in silence, he poured his focus into preparing Devran for leadership. What had once been subtle grooming became a relentless campaign to shape his son into a worthy successor. Ahmet’s philosophy was simple: the Society’s leadership couldn’t be handed down—it had to be earned. And for Devran, this meant proving himself in ways that few could ever imagine.

The Test: A Rite of Passage

As Devran came of age, the weight of his family’s expectations grew unbearable. Ahmet had carefully crafted his son’s education, but now it was time for Devran to prove himself as more than just an heir. One of the leaders stepped down so it was time for him to show he was ready to lead, to command the loyalty of the Society, and to navigate the dangerous currents of the criminal world. To do so, Ahmet devised the ultimate test—a trial that would push Devran to his breaking point. The job was monumental: a grand heist that would secure an artifact held in the private collection of a rival gang leader. If Devran could pull it off, the Society would bow to him. If he failed, it would prove he was not worthy of his father’s empire. But the test wasn’t just about skill; it was about leadership, decision-making under pressure, and the ability to take responsibility for the consequences of his actions. What Devran didn’t know was that the heist was also a trap. His father had carefully orchestrated everything to challenge his son's resolve, forcing him to make impossible choices. He would have to outwit rival gang members, deal with internal betrayals, and face the harsh reality of the criminal world’s unpredictability. It was a trial by fire—a way for Ahmet to see whether Devran could endure the pain of loss and still rise above it.

The Heist

The night of the heist, Devran took control. He led the operation with the precision and intellect that had been drilled into him over the years. Every move was calculated, every detail meticulously planned. Yet, despite the flawless execution of the plan, everything was thrown into chaos. The rival gang had anticipated the Society’s moves, and betrayal came from within Devran’s own ranks. One of his most trusted friends, someone he had known his whole life, turned on him, leaking vital information to the enemy. Devran was forced to improvise, adapting quickly as the walls closed in. He made split-second decisions to protect his team and salvage the job, but in the process, several members of the Society were lost. The heist, though ultimately successful, came at a steep price. Devran’s heart weighed heavy with the loss of loyal men, and the bitter sting of betrayal remained long after the dust settled. The heist had secured the artifact, and with it, a massive victory for the Society. But the cost—both in lives and trust—was a harsh reminder of the brutal reality of leadership.

Proving His Worth

When Devran returned from the operation, his father was waiting. Ahmet did not offer congratulations, nor did he offer sympathy. Instead, he simply asked, "Was it worth it?" The silence that followed was thick, heavy with expectation. Devran had passed the test—he had shown he could lead under pressure, outsmart rivals, and manage the harsh realities of his world. But his father’s cold gaze reminded him that leadership came at a price. Devran now knew that he would never be the carefree, charming playboy again. He had stepped into the role of the leader, but the mantle was heavy, and there was no going back. Ahmet’s approval came in the form of a simple nod. "You’re ready." Devran had earned his place at the head of the Society, but it was not a victory he could celebrate. His heart was marked by the loss of his people, the betrayal of those he trusted, and the cold understanding that in the world of the Society, loyalty was as fragile as glass. Now, as the leader of the gang, Devran knew he had only just begun. The true test was not in the heists he would pull off, but in how he would keep his empire intact, with the weight of every decision hanging over him.

The Weight of Legacy

With his father’s endorsement and the support of the organization, Devran stepped into the role he had been groomed for since birth. Leadership, however, came with its own challenges. The Society was a network of individuals bound by loyalty, respect, and fear. Devran had to navigate complex relationships, balance tradition with innovation, and maintain the Society’s dominance in a world that was changing rapidly. Devran also faced the challenge of uniting an organization built on loyalty to his father. He had to prove that he was not just Ahmet Şahin’s son but a leader in his own right—one who could protect the Society from its rivals and guide it into a new era. Though he projects confidence, inside he wrestles with self-doubt, guilt over his mother’s death, and the pressure to prove himself worthy of the Şahin name. His charm and resourcefulness are his greatest assets, allowing him to unite the Society under his leadership while keeping up appearances in the world of high society. Yet, his true test lies ahead: surviving the gang war and ensuring the Society emerges stronger than ever.

[neoatlantiscodex]

How to Build a House (Part I-IV)

Because we've evolved beyond the need for our buildings to suit our environment. You can go to Vegas and see signs everywhere about water conservation, and then go out to their perfect golf courses, where the green transitions immediately into sand dunes.

Part I: Foundation

Most of our traditional building techniques focus on wood. We don't need to build with wood anymore, but that doesn't mean we cannot learn anything from it. One of the big problems with wood is that it will rot if put directly into the ground, and so you need something else there. Namely rocks.

Reminder: Concrete is just artificial rocks.

The size and depths of your foundation is dependant upon the size of your building, and your ground conditions. The bigger your house, and the worse your soil, the more complex your foundation needs to be.

Part II: Basement

If you extend the foundation upwards, you get a basement. We normally think of basements as underground, but we are wrong in doing this. Basements are just another word for the Undercroft. Because you don't want to add wood to your lowest level, having a floor made of stone was a great idea. Stone was more expensive, so you make it the smallest floor.

Which is wild for us modern people to think that medieval houses often had the lower floor be the smallest.

Part III: Jettying

Why? Hubris? To spite God?

Because it was practical, and it lowers your tax footprint. There was a lot of older construction practices who's primary goal was lowering your tax footprint. We've come down hard on them, but, quite frankly, if the rules are reasonable, and people do something really cool to avoid them, then we don't need to change them. They would sometimes build over river to avoid paying property taxes.

The practical part is that pre-modern houses were built using single beams spanning any open space. Long beams tend to sag over time, but if you put weight on the outside, it evens it out. So, by building the higher floor a step larger, you put weight on the team, and get more space.

Medieval houses would typically pay tax/rent based off either the size of the base, or the size of the frontage. This is actually an incredibly simple way to run building regulations, and the simpler the regulations, the easiest it is to build.

Part II-II: Basement II

In the modern era we've decided to start finishing our basement, only to lo-and-behold discover that it's cold. Not only is the earth cold in northern climates, but heat rises.

Stone has a high heat capacity, meaning it takes a lot of energy, either way, to change the temperature. This means they are great for holding a constant temperature. Before the era of AC, if you wanted to keep something cool, you kept it in a cold room in your basement, or in a room that goes into a hill. If you prevent light from getting in, it would keep colder.

Basements were also used for general storage, or for a business. Because back in the day, most people lived in the same place they worked, and in cities, where space was scarce, you built up. In the modern age, we literally have laws to prevent people from working out of their house, because we're utterly insane.

Once we started added plumbing, furnaces, electricity, etc., having an unfinished basement made it simple to maintain these. When you added cars, it was also a great place for a garage/car port.

Do we need basements, now? No. But they are useful and practical. And understanding their limitations can dramatically reduce your future energy use, and improve your quality of life.

Part IV: Car Port / Garage

Amazingly lost technology. Partially because we started finishing basements. What's worse, is that in most modern countries, parking is getting extremely expensive, as the space is valuable. So valuable that people have died over parking disputes.

A car port is a room in your basement that you can park your car in. If you fully enclose it, it becomes a garage.

If we extend this to apartments, ground floor apartments suck. For everyone. So, you can lift it up a bit, and give them parking under the same foot print. Because a problem we have is that the companies building apartments just do NOT want to build underground parking.

Now, if you have protected underground parking, people could park a car. Or a bike. Or a scooter. Or keep a canoe. Or do maintenance on their car, which is difficult if not impossible to do on apartment parking lots. And this also gives you a place to keep your waste disposal, and other heavy machinery. So, this is another reason to make people pay based off the rote value of the land itself, not the profits that can be made from it. You could also have a bus / train station there.

Thank you @noneatnonedotcom.

[pinkarachnia]

Lesbian Anime Review #9 - Birdie Wing Golf Girls' Story Season 2

The world is a miserable place and I hope we all die.

So I just finished the last episode of Birdie Wing and I feel very differently about season 2 compared to how I felt about the first half. I'm going to spoil what does and, more critically, what doesn't happen in this show in this review, so read on at your own peril.

I am so fucking disappointed.

When I saw the first season of Birdie Wing I thought it was exceptional. The yuri force was so strong with that show that I was out here thinking it was the chosen one. But I digress, rather than vent about how sad I am, I should actually try to write a proper review to some level.

Season 2 of Birdie Wing is about Eve and Aoi playing golf in different tournaments across the world while they aim for the pro tour so that they can fulfill their promise of golfing against each other. They barely get to see each other for the whole show. There's a lot of them playing against other characters who don't matter, inevitably winning and then thinking about how great it will eventually be when they see each other.

Sidebar 1 - fuck yearning

I'm sick of this shit. The most common yuri trope is yearning and it seems like this defines some people's interpretations of how yuri is supposed to be. I think there's an issue with anime in general where characters entering into a relationship is considered "endgame", so you'll often see those plotlines get dragged out needlessly to keep characters from getting together, but it feels particularly egregious here in Birdie Wing season 2.

Season 1 of Birdie Wing ended with Eve and Aoi winning a doubles tournament together. Eve had promised to kiss Aoi if they won. This is never brought up for the entirety of season 2. They launch into season 2 with a secret parents plot, which I actually enjoyed.

(Damn I went looking for a gif and I think this is the only time Eve touches Aoi's face in season 2. Ladies, I'm at my limit.)

Eve has had amnesia for all of the first season and she gets her memories back suddenly and remembers who her dad is. It's Aoi's dad! That sucks for her. They briefly have an "oh shit are we related" moment, but then Aoi learns that her dad might not be her real dad because her mother had an affair with the guy who has been coaching her for her whole life. So both the main characters get a secret parents plot, and I kind of love this. It's so absurd but it feels just right for this show, which seems to relish in its own absurdity. I get that the parent stuff would have fully distracted the girls from their season 1 yuri promise, but once they've figured this out, nothing seems to change.

Season 2 feels weighed down by the way it splits its focus between the two main characters. Both Eve and Aoi go through their own separate stories independent of each other where they both learn about their secret parents, both learn new golfing techniques and both go through physical struggles in order to play golf. Aoi has a disease that she inherited from her dad that gives her headaches and makes her pass out if she exerts herself, and Eve's golfing style is so physically demanding that she breaks all her bones or something. She has to go through a training montage where she works out until the following tournament after she creates her signature shot, Rainbow Bullet Burst. This specific part is something I like, but that's because I still think Eve is the best anime protagonist maybe ever.

Season 2 is 12 episodes long, and after Eve and Aoi go their separate ways in episode 4, they don't see each other again until around the end of episode 10, and even then they barely interact with each other. Season 1 had enough gay subtext that I was genuinely impressed, but that was nowhere in season 2. There was one episode that covered the backstory of Aoi's caddy, and they put all their romantic analogues in that episode and then have her say "no homo" at the end. I wasn't really bothered at the time because I was never that invested in those two having anything, but now that the season has ended, I can see that on reflection, that was the episode with the strongest romantic themes, and that feels like a punch in the gut.

The golf was also more boring in season 2 compared to season 1. In season 1, Eve used a series of colour-themed golf swings which she would reveal throughout the season, but in season 2, she only really needs to use the rainbow bullet and then rainbow bullet burst. These shots are too good and she never needs to use any of her previous swings any more. It seemed to me that there were a lot of reused animations in season 2. I got so sick of seeing the exact same animation for one of Eve's opponents who does a run-up swing with a cannon motif because I saw it over and over. It's a 12 episode show, but that didn't stop them from recycling these same shots all the time. At least if the main characters got more unique moves it might have been more forgivable, but it didn't impress me like the first season did.

Sidebar 2 - season 1 is still good

The thing that's hitting me the hardest when I think about season 2 of Birdie Wing is that the first season was incredible. In terms of the sports setpieces, the characters that I loved and the yuri content, season 1 was masterful. Season 2 seems to be making some attempt to recapture that, but it doesn't seem to have any new ideas. The stakes in season 1 feel huge because Eve has to play golf against the mafia to defend the home of her loved ones or play for her own life. Season 2 has the British Open. They include some of these elements in season 2, but they're brief and only appear to tie up loose ends. Eve has one match in the mafia setting so some golfer can job to her and it's over in an episode and then she never has to deal with them again. The official tournament setting means they don't get to do anything zany with the courses, it's just regular golf. The coolest parts of season 1 feel watered down in season 2. Season 1 had Rose in it. No character has ever been as sick as her.

Season 1 had this in it

I need a stiff drink, fuck.

I've been slowly working through a bottle of The Shin, it's a Japanese blended whiskey. It's alright, but for a similar pricepoint I think Suntory Toki tastes better. The other day I treated myself to some Yamazaki 12 at a whiskey bar and for a while I was thinking that I just can't taste why it's so much more expensive than other whiskeys. On reflection and after having a few others for comparison, I think I can appreciate the quality a bit more, but it's still way out of my price range. Give me a Macallan 12 any day.

Anyway what else can I even say about this show

Look, it's complicated because season 1 did not feel like yuri bait. Look at that gif! It haunts me! I'm in pain writing this.

Season 2 however, is 100% unequivocally yuri bait. They don't kiss. I'm sorry. I feel betrayed. When I finished the episode, the first thing I did was go to MAL to look at the staff credits for these shows because it made me think that surely season 2 was written by someone else and that's why it ended like this. From what I can tell, it's the same staff. I would love to be proven wrong on this; please if you know better, prove me wrong. It's insane to me that the same people who made Birdie Wing season 1 would choose to end the show in this way. Season 1 gave me hope, but season 2 has eroded the good faith that season 1 built up in me. I'm a husk of a woman. Birdie Wing season 2 might be the reason I read Berserk.

I'm not giving this show a review score because it doesn't feel like I can sum up these feelings with a number like that.

I'll never forget season 1 of Birdie Wing.

I'll never forget Evangeline Burton.

She shot right through me with her rainbow bullet.