#How Are Wooden Golf Tees Made

[treedaddymcpuffpuff]

Beneath Miles of Stone - Part five - John Wick x Plus Size Fem Reader

Summary: John has been in prison for nine months. He’s content to stay if it means appeasing the high table and keeping peace between the owners of each continental. However, he meets someone who erases that willingness. Peace be dammed.

TW: Bullying

Michael has a lot of stuff. A lot of heavy stuff. Despite him assuring her that he can move it all in on his own, she still wants to help.

It would be kind of a dick move if she didn’t assist with all of this. An hour in, and the apartment is already transformed from bland and empty into a hoard of pastel rainbow decor and soft white staple pieces.

She takes a break to admire the painting of a fluffy white angel cat over watercolor Van Gogh scenery. Michael comes through the door, panting, with his White Cottage microwave in tow.

“Who painted this?” She asks him.

He smiles, blushes, puts the microwave down and then his hand on his hips. “I did.”

Her eyes grow wide. “This is amazing.”

He chuckles. “Thank you.”

She likes Michael a lot already, but she’s also very jealous of him and his many talents and cool possessions. He makes her want to decorate and be creative, both skills she’s never been able to possess correctly.

She hasn’t gotten the key made yet, so she goes out and does that while he starts unpacking his things. By the time she’s done, her apartment looks astonishing. Fairy lights twinkle over gauze white curtains and a big speaker plays soft hiphop music in one corner of the living room. Her couch is full of comfy white and grey fluffy throw pillows. An incense burner releases gourmand, smoky aroma into the air.

Michael is stretched out on the couch, taking a break, watching Legally Blonde on DVD. Her small TV is now in her room and his bigger flatscreen dwarfs the stand that it was on.

She sits down beside him with two glasses of water. Before she can set hers down on the coffee table, he stops her. “Wait! Coasters!”

He digs through two boxes of stuff before he finds new marble coasters for them to set their drinks on.

She laughs at him and he grins back. “I know, I know,” he tells her, “typical trust fund kid BS.”

“You’re fine,” she says. “I was laughing at the coasters because the table is already a mess.”

“Listen,” he says, “this table just needs some tee ell cee. A sander and some paint would do her wonders.” He pats the wooden top.

“Can I help?” She asks, excited and jumping at the opportunity a little too eagerly.

“Of course you can,” he assures.

She remembers him telling her that his mother is an artist. “Did your mom teach you to paint?”

He nods. “She also taught me how to make miniatures. You know, like dollhouses but for adults?”

“That’s amazing. Do you trade art with her?”

“I do,” he says, “we send things back and forth in the mail. Although my dad says it ‘clogs up their post office box’.”

“He’s not a fan of art?”

Michael snorts. “He hates everything except golf. Sometimes I think he hates me.”

She shakes her head. “Does he really hate you? You’re the perfect son.”

Michael sighs. “No, but he hates gay people, so it’s close enough. When I first came out to him, if my mother wouldn’t have been there, he would’ve probably shot me. He’s a real man’s man if you know what I mean...”

She nods, smiling ruefully. “Oh, I know exactly what you mean.”

Michael thinks for a moment. “We should get a dog.”

“I would love that, but it’s no pets here.”

He raises his eyebrows and sips at his water. “What they don’t know won’t hurt them.”

They decide it has to be a quiet dog, one who’s comfortable being alone at night, and there are an abundance of local shelters displaying perfect furry candidates online.

“Rocky. Pitbull mix. Potty trained, good with kids and other pets, sweet and loves everyone.” She shows Michael a picture of a medium sized black, stout dog with shiny grey eyes.

Michael shows her his own selection, a retired service beagle named Winnie. “Short for Winnifred,” he reads, “loves people and other pets, very polite, and hardly ever barks.”

“I love them both,” she groans, leaning back into the couch cushions.

“Same,” Michael sighs. “It’s one in the afternoon. Do you work tonight?”

“Yup.” She presses an arm over her face, blocking out the ceiling light.

“Don’t you have to sleep?” He asks.

She’s not tired at all because she slept through the night—wet dreams work wonders on insomnia—but she agrees because Michael sounds like he needs some alone time. Plus, her DVDs and TV are in her room now, and if she can’t sleep she can watch an old, comfortable flick.

The problem isn’t getting to sleep, it’s staying there—waking up sweating, gasping, whining John’s name. She slaps her mouth shut, presses her face into her pillow, and prays to any deity listening that her voice wasn’t loud enough for Michael to hear. First day in the new place and his roommate is a fiend. It would make any sane person want to revoke their rental agreement immediately.

She should be embarrassed and anxious that Michael potentially heard her, but instead she’s grinding against her sheets and thinking of tall men handcuffed to beds.

This won’t work. This isn’t working. She’s so pent up that it’s borderline painful. She sticks her hand into her sleep pants, past her underwear, and into a sloppy mess, tries to think about anything but John while she rubs herself raw, but in doing so her brain latches onto the thought of him and pretty soon he’s the only thing on her mind.

She tries to paint a decent fantasy of what she would like sex with him to be, but really she doesn’t give a shit as long as it’s him. And that’s what scares her. He could be absolutely celibate and she’d still crave whatever he wanted to give her whether it be a rough kick or a soft caress—she’d be his dog, and **this is the worst time for her to realize that because her alarm is going off for work.

She orgasms at the cost of being ten minutes late.

The locker room lights are off when she goes to put her things away, which is unusual. Since she started, they’ve been lit around the clock. In fact, she’s not even sure where the light switch is in here because she’s never had to use it. Fumbling around in the pitch black is making her even tardier. Finally, when she finds the switch and flips it, the room illuminates, and standing under the migraine-inducing glow is someone who makes headaches seem like a dream come true.

Benny grins from his seat on the bench, which he quickly abandons in favor of looming over her. Once again, the sweaty, edematous mass of him blocks her exit.

She’s too busy contemplating if anyone would hear her scream to see him hold his open palm out expectantly.

“Give it to me,” he says.

“What?” She asks, imagining in another universe she sounds angry and oppositional instead of whiny and terrified. In another universe, she can also kick his ass. Not in this one, though. In this universe, she does as Benny demands and hands him her phone so she doesn’t have to suffer through the touch of his greasy skin a second time.

He holds her phone in one hand while the other holds his own. She doesn’t bother trying to see what he’s doing because she can’t get her feet to move let alone stand on tiptoes and look over his shoulder.

This goes on for a while in which her only thought consists of asking herself if she could run to the door and make it into the populated infirmary before he can catch her. Again, this is a solution mainly dependent on her stubborn feet.

She’s not really worried about what he puts on her phone. It’s what he’s getting from it that sets her pulse careening.

He reaches out and tries to shove it into her jacket pocket, but luckily that’s when her feet decide to save her and step away from his hands. He scowls at her like she just insulted his mother.

“Fine.” Benny opens his hand and drops her phone on the stone floor. She winces when she hears the shatter, then looks back up at his pleased, disgusting expression.

“Remember our trip.” He pushes past her, not enough to hurt but to make her yelp and stumble, and slams the door shut on his way out.

Her phone isn’t broken. The screen has a tiny crack in one corner but other than that it’s still perfect.

She grabs her bag from her locker and brings it with her to the nurse’s station, labeling the locker room as an unsafe and off limits space, which are becoming more bountiful by the day.

John is not her patient tonight. On her day off they must have had an influx of admissions because she’s responsible for 10 of them and the infirmary is unusually and appropriately staffed.

Her hopes of his nurse trading him are slim to none because he’s a wonderful patient and over time everyone has seemed to agree that they want him on their assignment sheet.

The other nurse’s that take and give her report always talk about what a cool, easy going guy he is and how they’re surprised that he needs that many guards with him.

“What do you think he did?” Stan, one of the day shift nurses, asks her.

“My bet’s on released a circus full of wild animals and let them trample a small town, but I could be wrong.” She taps her pen against her report sheet and laughs at her own joke.

Stan snorts. “He probably killed some rich guys.”

The other nurses like him so much that most of their theories on why John is in four point restraints with four men guarding him at all times is because he’s done something valiant that pissed someone powerful off.

That’s probably the other reason his wound looks better; not just because of her, but because if you like a patient or connect with them you’re more than likely going to give them the best care you can provide.

If she’s honest, it kind of makes her feel sick. Not because everyone has grown to like John, but because that means she’ll have less chance of being his nurse from here on out. Also, she knows it’s kindergarten mentality, but she liked him and treated him well first while the other ones had to get to know him beforehand.

Her case load is heavy. A couple IV’s, wound changes, someone with a tracheostomy. She sits down to chart, finally, at 3 AM.

One of the other nurses, Bill, calls for her across the hall.

She fights the urge to groan while standing on sore feet and walking over to his medication cart.

Bill grins at her, looking like he’s really enjoying himself. “My patient in 9 wants to see you.”

“Me?” She asks.

Bill shrugs, still looking very amused. “He says he needs to tell you something.”

“What?”

“I don’t know,” Bill tells her. “Seems that he likes your company, though.” He gives an eyebrow raise at the awkward expression crawling onto her face.

She reminds herself that this her workplace for the 80th time and that Bill’s suggestive expressions are just him messing around. Joking. That’s all. He’s joking.

John is watching the door, waiting for her. When she pops in like a mouse and scurries to his bed, he feels the urge to pat her on the head for showing up which would be the only thing he could do to stop himself from grabbing her up and kissing her.

His smile is wide and genuine. “How’s the roommate search?”

“Uh, I got one.” She smiles timidly, hoping he doesn’t think she’s erratic and air-headed for finding someone so fast

His eyes widen just the smallest bit. “That’s good, is she…nice?”

She nods too eagerly. “He’s great. And he has great decorations.”

The key word here—at least the one his ears attune to—is he. Not because a woman and a man living together automatically entails romance or connection, but because John knows men—John is a man—and most of them turn out to be less than good.

He tries not to look mean, to keep his smile, to focus on her being here with him in the present and alive and well; If he doesn’t, rage will start talking, nefarious, whispering sin in his ear, assuring him that it wouldn’t be hard to break out of these handcuffs and make sure her roommate becomes her loyal dog for the rest of the time he spends living with her and alive.

“If you wouldn’t have suggested it, I’d probably be homeless by next week.” She tries to sway the conversation toward optimism because she sees something in his expression that reads like he’s a little upset. He probably does think she’s a moron at this point.

Maybe it’s just good that she’s happy. He tries to shift focus onto that. The roommate can’t be malignant if she’s so upbeat.

It’s been very easy to talk to John most times, but then there are moments like this when something awkward and unsaid hangs between them and more often than not she doesn’t know what it is. Maybe he doesn’t either.

“Just be careful,” is what he decides to say.

She chuckles. “I will, don’t worry.”

He doesn’t understand what’s funny—again, but he appreciates the laugh. One of them can get him through a few hours, and they’re so easy to wring out of her pretty throat.

One of the security guards stands, stretches, yawns. He says he’s going to take a break. The other guards are asleep, so once he leaves they’ll be alone.

“I’m gonna go to vending, John you want anything?” He asks.

John shakes his head no. “Thanks.”

“I’m sorry if I bothered you while you were busy,” he says, too eager to talk as soon as the guard walks out. “I just wanted to make sure you were alright.”

She purses her lips, which he thinks means she’s trying not to leak an expression that will probably be embarrassing. Really, she’s trying to tame her lion heart back into its cage before it sinks its teeth into him and refuses to let go.

“I’m okay, John.” She attempts smiling. “You’re the one in the hospital bed.”

He shrugs like his stab wound and near death are just a hiccup.

She talks again. “And I’m glad you called me in. I like talking to you.”

His face is all smile now. “Likewise.”

He tells her to pull up a chair if she wants, and she steals one of the metal ones that the breaking guard left behind, sitting by his bedside. They start with a casual conversation about the weather that turns into a discussion on harsh winters in Belarus.

“Did you grow up there?” She asks him.

He nods. “I traveled a lot.”

“So, you’re Russian?” She puts her chin in her palm and stares at him like he is the most interesting person in the world. She’s adorable like this. He wants to brush the stray hairs from her cheeks.

“Yes. American, now.”

“Do you speak Russian?” Her eyebrows raise.

“да, красивая девушка” His tone automatically slides into a deeper baritone when he says this, and it makes her shudder.

He needs to be nerfed. Outlawed. He should not be handsome, nice, like-able, and be able to speak a different language in his perfect voice. It’s really not fair at all.

She’s too busy trying to tame her rogue thoughts to ask him what he even said. The desire to climb into his lap and straddle him crosses her mind twenty times in different ways. She blinks heavy. “You’re the coolest person I know.”

They talk until the guard comes back from his break, mainly about Belarus and what it was like there and where else he has traveled.

Although she has a ton of charting to catch up on, she doesn’t want to leave him. The taste of human connection is on her tongue after a couple years of abstinence and she’s becoming addicted.

When she exits his room, it’s with reluctance and impressive self control.

She tells him to sleep. He promises he’ll try.

It would be easier to do her job if she wasn’t catching Benny sneering at her whenever they’re in the same space, but she gets through it, reasoning that John has it worse than her because he has to suffer through six hours with the asshole guard in his room. And, it’s easier also because of…well, John himself.

[alan-duarte]

TIMING: Mid may

 LOCATION: Portland country club PARTIES: Alan and Siobhan @banisheed SUMMARY: Alan wants to have a nice afternoon. Siobhan wants to have a nice afternoon. CONTENT WARNINGS: n/a

Everyone who golfed thought they were better than the people that didnt, that was a fact of golf. It was another fact of golf that Siobhan was bad at it. Which was partially why Siobhan loved golf. She also loved it for the stupidity, the several different sticks of varying sizes that she never understood, the fact that humans couldn’t be bothered to maintain green spaces unless it was for some sport, and, of course, the tiny carts she could ram into people. Being bad at the sport, for obvious lack of trying, meant that men often approached her to help. In the end she had them curled up in a puddle of their own tears; promise bound to help her and finally succumbed to the realization that she was never going to get any better or sleep with them and that they were stuck here, with her. Usually though, it didn’t happen so quickly. “Oh, come on, Greg.” She poked the man curled on the ground with her putter. “Don’t be such a baby about it. You’re the one that promised to help.” Prodding his gut earned her a few more wails. Siobhan sighed, this was boring. Her attention turned back to the length of the range: empty mostly except for the dark silhouette teeing up. Another person to bother. She jabbed the putter at Greg again. “Yeah, yeah, I release you from all your promises to me. Crack on then, Greg.” Greg didn’t move. Siobhan assumed he’d be fine. She picked up her clubs and ran down the range. 

There was a piece of actual golf that Siobhan did enjoy. Of course, it was her own variation of the sport that she’d devised in her head: hit humans with golf balls. When she was playing hit-humans-with-golf-balls she was the best at it. Taking a ball out of her golf bag, she squeezed it firm in her palm as she ran down, waiting until she was close enough to swing her arm back and throw. The ball took a perfect arc right into the stranger’s back. “Oh, I’m sorry!” she called out immediately after. “Look at me! Such a klutz; I never know how to hit with these things.” She gestured to the clubs in her golf back. “Do you mind if I tee up with you?” Today would be a good day of hit-humans-with-golf-balls. 

Alan had picked up golfing after a particularly unpleasant encounter with a guy who used to be in the Year book club during their senior year and claimed that anyone who couldn't golf clearly hadn't made it. It was before he started his business. Ten year reunion. The horror. He hadn't attended the one for twenty years since graduation day, mainly because at that point, it was clear to Alan that didn't want to be the sort of person who cared for living in the past. He had left that to people who peaked in high school. In the meantime, Alan however had grown fond of the sport, and had been going to the local golf course every fortnight. 

He was picking one of his wooden clubs when a sharp pain on his shoulder brought him out of his stream of consciousness. A sharp ow escaped his lips and the man turned around to look in the direction of the woman's voice. Great. Another one of those. 

He gave her a smile that looked like a grimace and turned his back on her, waving all that happened off with a brush of his hand. Hopefully, she'd stop in her track and find someone more interested. Instead she walked closer, asking him if she could join. Come on, this was his day off. "Fine." He cleared his throat and adjusting his stance, set the ball down on the tee before launching it far across the freeway. His eyesight might have been sharp, he'd have to walk a little to see precisely where it landed. Still he was mostly happy with his swing. 

Silent as ever, he gave a look at the woman, moving aside as if to invite her to take his place.

Maybe this man was good at golf, Siobhan didn’t know. She was distracted by all the places she imagined hitting him with a golf ball: the temple, the shins, the ass, maybe one right between the eyes if the day went well for them. Should she hit him with the clubs too? Oh, but she’d killed a few people that way in the 80s; she couldn’t do a repeat. It was more fun to treat the stranger like target practice. Blunt force trauma with golf clubs was easy and trite. She skipped to the place he had once been, setting up the tee for her shot. “Do you golf here often?” She asked casually, the chipper lilt in her tone being indicative of her mischievous glee but passable for friendliness instead. She took out one of the thick clubs meant for distance, taking her stance at an angle that would be peculiar for anyone playing golf. But Siobhan wasn’t playing golf. “I haven’t seen you here before.” She tightened her grip on the club. “Are you any good at golf? I’m just horrid at it.” She swung; another clean shot. The ball whipped through the air, shooting into the man’s shin. What’d they call that? A hole in one? Siobhan smirked. “Oh no!” She wasn’t doing a very good job of pretending to be shocked. “I’m so sorry! See, that’s just what I was saying about my golf skills!” 

“No, I don’t,” he did. Every fortnight, but he didn't want her to entertain the idea that this occurrence might become a recurrence. "Not good, not bad," with a shrug, Alan turned his back on her which was truly his sole mistake. 

A sharp pain in his leg was all the man needed to realize this.

"¿¡Pendeja, que mierda te pasa ?!" He couldn't bite the insults back, nor the look of absolute anger in his eyes as he turned to look at her and her faux air of shock. Then it dawned on him. She must have been hired by someone to ruin his day. He might have ruined a few lives after all. Fair. Well played, he thought, while a smile etched itself onto his lips. Now that he knew what this was about, Alan could probably get something out of it. 

"I've seen worse. In fact, it's rather impressive, considering…" he trailed off, leaving her time to think about it, about what he might imply here. "Well, I just think you're really brave about it, you know." This said, he gave her another smile, sympathetic as ever, and put his club back in its bag. Slinging it over his shoulder, the man began walking over to where the ball might have dropped. 

Some people were fun to harass, they gave Siobhan a lot to work with. Other people, like this man, clearly just wanted to be left alone. It made annoying them very easy; she guessed that she’d bother him just by breathing too close to his face. He seemed like a sensible man, a normal man that just wanted to golf. Unfortunately, he was Siobhan's victim for the day. However, the thing about people that wanted to be left alone was that they were boring. The best she might get out of him was a ‘fuck off’ and ‘fuck off’s for someone like Siobhan were two a penny. She got ‘fuck off’s even when she wasn’t trying (she refused to entertain why that happened; entertaining it usually made her sad). She wanted more. She wanted his day so horribly ruined that when he thought of her face, he thought of it with the vitriolic anger reserved for people who litter, or whatever the equivalent for human sensibilities was. People who don’t clean their murder knives? Siobhan didn’t know. 

“Brave about it?” Siobhan opened her mouth to say more but he was already off, walking down the range. She hadn’t even earned her ‘fuck off’. “Wait!” She chased him down, coming up beside him. “I just feel so bad about hurting you!” Her skin flared for the lie and she swatted her arms as if mosquitoes had been swarming. “Please, how can I make it up to you?” She reached into his bag and pulled out two golf clubs. “What if I got these warmed up for you?” Siobhan began swinging them around wildly in the air as she chased after her prey. Hopefully, one would just hit him. “I could use some golf pointers, you seem really skilled.” 

“Really? You didn’t seem so…” Alan stopped himself. No, he had to pretend that he didn’t know she was hired to annoy him. She started scratching herself and the thought of scabies quickly made its way to his brain. How many times did his mother tell him not to go anywhere near people who scratched themselves? It’s contagious, mijo, she’d say, clinging onto his small hand to ensure no mishaps. But he hadn’t seen anyone with scabies in years and had forgotten about that event until now. “Hold up, stay right where you are.”

If he wasn’t going to insult her further by letting her know why he didn’t want her anywhere near me, he was also not happy with letting her think it was hitting him that did the trick. He had it worse every month. “You don’t have to make it up to me. Just… Stop following me around and we’ll be just fine,” he tried to scoot away while she reached for his bag, but she was swifter than him. Heh, those only cost $300 a piece, it wasn’t such a terrible loss. Yes it was. But it also wasn’t. “I suggest you go to the training range, and leave the green for more skilled folks, alright?” 

Siobhan didn’t mean to obey him, but the suddenness of his voice caught her off guard and, just as he said, she stayed right where she was. “What?” She stared at him. “Why do you want to send me away? I’m just here to learn how to play golf from someone I admire as much as you.” Another lie. Siobhan swatted at her arms as her hives kicked up again. She scratched at her skin, moving closer. “Don’t you want to be a kind man and help a woman out?” She swung around the clubs again, finding that she was getting into a groove about it. It was a little like an interpretive dance: two swings to the left, three to the right, separate the sticks and flourish.In another world, it could have been a golfer mating call. “Look at me….I’m so helpless…” she tried to flutter her eyelashes at him. “....I need a big strong golf man to teach me how to golf.” She approached him slowly, hoping to get in closer for a hit or seven. 

“Why?” Remember Alan, she’s here to ruin your day, don’t let her get the satisfaction. “Because that’s where you’ll find a lot of guys who are way too eager to help the poor damsel in distress,” who, if she was not sent here specifically to piss him off, was looking for someone stupid enough to marry her without a prenup. 

He took a step back as she started swinging furiously the golf clubs around. Someone, him, was going to lose an eye if she didn’t stop that. “Will you stop behaving like a windmill for a second?” Wait. What in the romcom hell was going on here? 

“Can you spare me your Notting Hill slash Harry meets Sally nonsense? I’m just trying to enjoy my day off and I’m extremely gay and uninterested.” 

Oh, but the eager guys were exactly the ones Siobhan wanted. Eagerness was the perfect way to trap someone into promises they never wanted to keep. An eager man will agree to everything up to a certain point and she’d won a lot that way; a car, another car, a house, thousands of dollars, a newborn baby once but she returned that to the far more responsible mother and urged her to seek divorce. “Oh? You don’t like my waving?” She grinned. “Okay.” She threw his clubs as far away as she could, watching them spin and fly through the air before their eventual plummet. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Siobhan turned back around. “My name isn’t Sally. Or Harry. Or Nottinghill.” 

But it was his admission that gave Siobhan pause. It was certainly a lot harder to trick someone into giving her a car when they weren’t interested in her, but it wasn’t impossible. Her approach needed to be adjusted. “My condolences,” she started, “for the fact that you like men; men are terrible. I assume dating in Maine is like wading through a swamp of men who show off their big fish and men who want you to try their artisanal butter. The pickings are…” She gestured around the golf club which featured its own array of Maine locals: mostly older men who refused to admit they were never good at golf to begin with. “…slim.” She dropped her hand. “I have to suffer with this too. Do you think women come to this range? No. Absolutely not. I would love to do this with a woman instead.” She wouldn’t even take her hypothetical car. “But no, I get old men. I understand that there are those applications for dating inside of your phone—the tinder and the grinder and what have you—but I can't imagine the choices are really that much better.” 

“Really?” Well it wasn’t like she was going to break them but the walk of shame that would follow isn’t one he was eager for. If he’d been doing quite a good job at controlling his face so far, realizing that she hadn’t seen the hit classics Notting Hill and When Harry Meets Sally brought out his most outraged expression just yet. How dare you, he mouthed out to himself. 

While he went to pick up the golf clubs she’d just thrown away, Alan thankfully no longer had to hide his reactions to her nonsense, so much that he forgot not to chortle as she offered her condolences. What in the unhinged hell? “Are you seriously suggesting men wanting to offer me food is the worst that can happen? It’s not,” he put a hand on his hip and turned to look at her, “I’d rather that than men in graphic tees and men capris, thank you very much,” there was actually something attractive about a guy who knew how to fend for himself, which clearly wasn’t the case for the latter mentioned men. “I sometimes come with my sister,” but his sister had been off the dating scene for a bit, and just gave Alan a new niece for him to spoil. “Oh you really don’t want to try those apps. These people only want to get in bed and leave before breakfast,” how could you do that? He couldn’t fathom leaving the house on an empty stomach. Appalling. “You’d get along with one of my friends,” friend was a broad word to call his neighbor, but he figured Xochitl could get along with this woman, he had no doubt about it. She was friendly enough, but she didn’t let people walk on her toes.“She wouldn’t be caught dead posing with a fish either,” he put away the golf clubs and picked one to hit his ball closer to the hole. “I really wish you didn’t hit me though. I’d happily introduce you to her otherwise.” 

Siobhan watched, a little stunned, as the man went after his clubs. She was convinced they’d be a lost cause. And as he went on, something less sinister clicked inside her head. The sort of thing that clicked when someone was being interesting enough that she didn’t feel the need to stab them to make the fun. Siobhan approached him. “You’re a romantic,” she said, stating it as if she’d known him all his life. “That is, at least, a very romantic outlook to have. I never said I was looking for a partner.” Could she argue? Perhaps she wasn’t entirely interested in romance, it always seemed to pass her like a train she just missed, but she was a romantic in every sense as well. She grew up to her grandmother’s poetry about death and read Austen by candlelight; some romance was simply baked into her core. “Or maybe you just really like food,” she conceded, realizing there was another explanation to his words. But was the act of feeding someone a meal crafted by one’s own two hands not a little romantic? It all circled back. 

As he went on about his friend, Siobhan considered it. Not about having a friend, she didn’t care to, but if some woman was bemoaning the lack of good candidates then she assumed there was a plush bed she could fall into. But, no, she’d come here on a mission: she was going to bother men until the dull and constant ache over how much she hated herself subsided for that singular moment in time where she could feel superior to the puddle she reduced someone to. She didn’t care about meeting someone else, some hypothetical force she might— “Is she hot?” Siobhan’s curiosity got the better of her. “Oh, get over yourself. If you had to golf all day you’d want to hit people too. This sport is nonsensical.” 

“You look desperately like someone who is looking for a 5th husband,” the kind of woman who hadn’t taken off the pins from her bridal chignon yet that she had already slipped on a form fitting black dress for the funeral of her husband who died such a tragic, accidental, unexpected death. He gave her a sympathetic look. Though Alan hadn’t lost any of his husbands to the reaper, he didn’t particularly feel like it would be just to judge her for it (especially since he was simply judging a book by its cover here). He made a living exploiting people’s weaknesses. If most of his deals were sealed without him using tricks, Alan knew that he wouldn’t have been as successful if he had let other realtors walk over him. That would be unacceptable. “I do like food though, cooking for others too,” he pointed out. Alan wasn’t the sort for grand gestures. He wouldn’t cover you in presents, but he’d make you dinner, make sure you had everything you needed to be comfortable and check on you regularly. 

“Xochitl?” Alan might have not felt a thing for women, he was born with two eyes who worked very well. “She’s beautiful,” the kind of person that made heads turn. Whether she could give that woman a run for her money was to be determined but Alan figured he might have his revenge here. “Actually, I might give her your name and phone number,” he also would subscribe with a good number of newsletters with said phone number, though she didn’t need to find out yet how petty Alan could be. “I’m Alan, by the way,” he held out his hand for her to shake. “Though if I do that, I expect you won’t disturb my days at the golf course ever again.” 

Siobhan’s nose crinkled. Yes, the ‘ready for the fifth husband who will also mysteriously die’ was both the vibe she hoped to give off and also the one she was aware that she did. If she was ever going to get married, it would be to a string of men who all met early deaths. Preferably they’d have a lot of money, but Siobhan wasn’t so picky—she would murder a poor man too. Still, it wasn’t nice when someone pointed it out to her. “And you look like someone on their third divorce,” she replied. Something about golf attracted sad people, in Siobhan’s mind. There was something humiliating about chasing a tiny white ball down and then just guessing at where it landed. It was something only a thrice divorced man could appreciate. “You can’t seduce someone with food,” she said, knowing that if someone presented her with a full cake, she would probably think about sleeping with them. “What do you do? Wave potatoes around?” 

Siobhan’s nose crinkled again; this conversation was slowly approaching friendly. She didn’t come here to be friendly. Somehow, in fact, Alan seemed to be striking a deal with her: the number and name of some lonely attractive friend of his for her granting him the peace of golfing alone. Siobhan didn’t like it but clearly her golf violence was getting her nowhere. She ought to cut her losses and see if his friend was more fun to harass. “I’m not making any long-term promises,” she said, “and I’m not agreeing to that deal.” She reached out and shook his hand. “But for today, I will leave you alone if you provide me with her number. Agreed?” She paused. “And I’m Siobhan, by the way.” 

“Second,” he corrected her, and finally granted her an honest smile. The idea that he could wave potatoes around even made him scoff although he didn’t reward her with a response. Wave potatoes around. That’s ridiculous. She was quite ridiculous, yes. But she was no longer harassing him. All he had to do was make her feel important, huh? And so he didn’t comment further on that, offering her a friendly smile instead.

“That’s alright.” He knew what she smelled like, Dior, the countryside and something rich. He could avoid her if she decided to show up at the golf course again. It wouldn’t be too difficult. She, however, didn’t need to know that. 

“Very well. I can do that,” he just needed to find it in the HOA What’s App. They hadn’t precisely been on a phone number sharing basis, but that was fine, right? He just needed to let her know that a Siobhan would reach out to her, and that she was just a poor old widow looking for company in those trying times, right? “Are you ready to take notes?” 

“Well, are you looking to get divorced a third time because I can set you up with someone,” Siobhan said, whipping out her phone. “Take notes?” She blinked. “Yeah, right. Whatever. Crack on. I hope she’s more fun than you.” After entering the woman’s details in, she stuffed it back into her pocket and stared at Alan. He had agreed to leave him alone for the day and while he wasn’t the man she needed, or the man she wanted, or the man who would let her hit him indefinitely with golf balls, he was the man who had given her a new fixation. She waved at him, offering one last smile before she turned to leave for good. Xóchitl, whoever she was, probably would be more entertaining than Alan.

And if she wasn’t, Siobhan would just hit her with golf balls too. 

[health-care-products-24]

Tee Time Revolution: My Experience with Flightpath Premium Golf Tees

As an avid golfer, I'm constantly on the lookout for ways to improve my game. One area I felt I could refine was my tee shots. After experimenting with various tees, I discovered Flightpath Premium Golf Tees. These innovative tees have transformed my teeing experience, offering exceptional durability, improved distance, and a distinct edge on the course.

A Step Above the Ordinary Tee

Flightpath Premium Golf Tees are unlike any tees I've used before. Here's what initially impressed me:

Superior Durability: Made from high-quality, resilient materials, these tees can withstand even the most powerful swings. Unlike traditional wooden tees that splinter easily, Flightpath tees offer long-lasting performance, saving me money in the long run.

Enhanced Distance Potential: The unique design of the Flightpath tee optimizes ball placement and reduces resistance at impact. This has resulted in a noticeable increase in my driving distance, allowing me to reach those extra yards off the tee.

Variety for Different Swing Styles: Flightpath offers a range of tees with varying lengths and levels of flexibility. This allows me to choose the perfect tee for my swing style and course conditions, ensuring optimal performance on every hole.

Taking My Drives to New Distances

Since incorporating Flightpath Premium Golf Tees into my game, I've experienced a significant improvement in my tee shots. Here's how they've impacted my performance:

Increased Confidence on the Tee Box: Knowing I have a durable tee that can handle my swing power allows me to step up to the tee box with greater confidence. This mental shift has translated into more focused and consistent drives.

Extra Yards Off the Tee: The added distance I've gained with Flightpath tees has been a game-changer. Reaching par 5s in two shots or having a shorter approach on par 4s opens up more strategic options on the course.

A Consistent Ball Strike: The stable platform provided by the tee allows for a cleaner strike on the ball, resulting in more consistent ball flight and improved accuracy off the tee.

An Investment in Your Golfing Performance

While Flightpath Premium Golf Tees come at a slightly higher price point than traditional tees, the benefits far outweigh the cost. They're a worthwhile investment for any golfer looking to improve their tee game.

The Secret Weapon in Your Golf Bag

If you're looking to add some distance, consistency, and confidence to your tee shots, Flightpath Premium Golf Tees are a must-have. Their superior durability, innovative design, and variety of options make them a valuable addition to any golfer's bag. Remember, small tweaks can make a big difference on the course, and Flightpath tees can be the secret weapon that elevates your game to the next level.

[esoutherngolf]

Coffee Tees: Volle Turns Coffee into Tees

In 2018 a new Kiwi startup started to disrupt the golf ball industry by launching New Zealand's first premium direct-to-consumer golf ball. Volle Golf's mission is to challenge the status quo and bring fresh ideas and innovation to the golf industry. Co-founder Kael Deherrera started the company with the goal of doing things differently. There is an environmental revolution brewing on the golf course, and it's all about your coffee ground discards. Waste coffee grounds collected from New Zealand cafes will be used to make biodegradable golf tees for both the local and international markets. A Golf Tee that smells like your morning coffee! "We were trying to investigate and understand how golf products are made and essentially think about how we could do things differently and more sustainably," said Kael. "It led us into a bit of a deep dive in the tee industry, understanding that plastic is still heavily used in tees at the moment, and obviously there is a problem with leaving broken plastic tees scattered around golf courses." While wooden tees are available, Deherrera mentioned they were mostly imported from China, and much wood is whittled down to create them. Volle started to investigate alternative materials, including sawdust-but found there were issues with durability. To make a truly sustainable tee, it needs to be durable-it can't break on every shot. Kael actually discovered coffee grounds were being used in a lot of furniture and other bits and pieces as a replica for wood. The Volle tees are 60 to 70 percent made from coffee grounds with other natural materials added to increase durability-including sugar cane and casein carbonate. Compared to wooden tees, which Kael says will break on average after three to four shots, Volle's tees would last about six to seven shots. That is about a 66% increase in durability. While Volle is currently in partnership with a Danish company, arrangements are being made to bring manufacturing to New Zealand. All the tees currently sold in New Zealand are imported and primarily from China. Deherrera said they are hoping to create replacements for all other tees. The tees come in a bag designed to look like a coffee packet-and they even smell like your morning cup of Joe. "Our goal is to be in every golf shop in the country, and then look for international markets. We're calling this the most environmental and sustainable tee on the planet and we think there's no reason to be using plastic or wooden tees again." Please visit volle.golf for more information.   Read the full article

[jimmydemaret]

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[roosterforme]

Just Desserts | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Rooster only has eyes for his girlfriend and her baked goods. 

Warnings: Fluffy Smut

Length: 2000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Based on this fun request from an anonymous friend!

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? but it can be read on its own!

Check my masterlist.

Early Saturday morning, Bradley went out to play a round of golf with some of the guys. He had left you sleeping in bed, just pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before he left. He had promised you he would return around lunchtime and spend the rest of the day and the entire night with you. 

He was getting close to his next deployment, and he had initially scoffed at the idea of forfeiting even a few hours of your day off together, but you had got on him about being more social. So he accepted the golfing invitation from Bob, Hangman and Coyote.

Turns out you were a genius, because he ended up having a great time playing golf, kicking back a few 'breakfast' beers and hanging out. Bob was the only good golfer in the bunch, so it didn't really matter that Bradley lost a few balls along the way and that he had to fudge his score on the 15th hole. 

And now he was heading back home to you. When he unlocked the door and stepped inside, he audibly groaned. "Smells so good in here," he mumbled, taking in the sight before him. You were in the kitchen, wearing your I Love Meat apron that he bought for you randomly one day when he saw it. And you were surrounded by cupcakes, muffins, pies and brownies. One of your perfectly curated playlists was playing on your phone next to a stack of cookbooks. 

Then it clicked. You had mentioned you needed time to work on things for the Navy's bake sale with the San Diego Children's Hospital. Apparently you volunteered for this fundraiser every year, and Bradley had promised you weeks ago that he would be your personal taste tester. 

"I'm back, and I'm ready to work!" Bradley said as he kicked off his golf shoes and headed into the kitchen. "Give me stuff to sample."

"Hey, Roo. Did you have fun?" you asked, and he wrapped his arms gently around your waist from behind. He kissed the side of your neck as you unwrapped some sticks of butter. He thought you looked extra cute in your sweatpants and tee shirt with your hair piled on top of your head. And there was a smudge of flour on your cheek that he really wanted to take some time to kiss away. 

You always made him feel like this. He couldn't figure out if he was more horny or more loved up. He wanted to romance you and tear your clothing to shreds at the same time. It was very confusing and oftentimes overwhelming, but he usually just went along with it.

"Yeah, golf was fun. Thanks for making me go," he whispered next to your ear. He didn't want to distract you too much, since you seemed to have a lot of baking to finish. "Can I help at all, Baby Girl? I know how to separate eggs now, remember? Or I'm more than willing to sample what you've made."

With a grin, you turned in his arms slightly and kissed his lips. "Want to try one of the brownies for me?" you asked, nodding your head toward a tray cooling on the island. 

"Yep." He cut himself a large square and took a bite. Of course it was perfect. "So good, it brings tears to my eyes, Sweetheart," he mumbled around another bite. 

"Good. Now try a blueberry muffin," you instructed him as you set two beautiful looking pies in the oven. 

Bradley ate a muffin in three bites and moaned. "Delicious, Baby Girl. Can I try a cupcake?"

"Sure, they're cinnamon spice with cream cheese frosting," you said, but he'd already eaten half of one. And now you were mixing ingredients in a bowl with a wooden spoon, kind of dancing along to the music playing, and Bradley really couldn't help himself. 

He stood behind you and kissed your neck again, letting his hands come to rest on your hips. "And what about this? Can I try a sample? It looks so pretty, I'd love to eat it."

You giggled and then gasped as Bradley slid his hands to the front of your hips, in between your sweatpants and your apron. He rubbed himself against your butt and you moaned, "What are you doing, Roo?"

He grinned into your hair and kissed your ear. "I heard you like meat."

You burst out laughing, and he was so happy he had bought you that apron. He loved making you laugh, and tried to make it a daily priority. 

"I like your meat," you whispered, still laughing. 

"Think you can take a little break, Sweetheart?" Bradley untied your sweatpants and slipped his hand inside the elastic band, caressing the soft skin of your belly. You tipped your head back against his shoulder as he drew little circles with his fingertips next to your belly button. 

He let his fingers trail lower until they toyed with the top of your underwear. Your phone started playing I Only Have Eyes for You, and Bradley sang along.

'My love must be a kind of blind love,

I can't see anyone but you.'

You whimpered and spun in his arms so you were facing him. Now his fingers were kneading into your lower back. You looked up at him, and he was struck by the expression of desire on your face. 

'Are the stars out tonight?

I don't know if it's cloudy or bright. 

I only have eyes for you.'

"Bradley," you moaned, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down to kiss you. You and he drifted slowly around between the kitchen counter and the island, dancing to the song. Your languid kisses were making him dizzy. The lazy way you moved him around the kitchen and the softness of your sighs was mixing with the sweet smell of baked goods. 

Everything took on a hazy quality as Bradley untied your apron and tossed it gently aside. "I love you," he whispered before claiming your mouth again. Your fingers tangled gently in his hair, pulling softly on his scalp; Bradley was practically panting at your touch. He wrapped his arms around your waist until you were flush against the front of him. When his mind registered that you weren't wearing a bra, he groaned. He gazed down at you between kisses. A different song started playing, but his brain couldn't tell what it was. He couldn't focus on anything but you. 

He watched your tongue flick out of your mouth, and you licked his chin and then his lower lip, and soon he was devouring you, pulling your lip between his teeth and nibbling. "Good enough to eat," he murmured as you pulled his golf shirt over his head.

You giggled as you ran your hands over his bare shoulders and chest. "I agree," you whispered, placing open mouthed kisses just below his collarbones before licking the scars on the side of his neck. Bradley's head tipped back as your fingers connected with the button of his golf pants, and when you guided them down his legs along with his boxer briefs, he had to bite his lip. You were placing gentle kisses to his thighs and along the length of his erection.

He hauled you up to your feet and wrapped his arms around you, backing you up against the counter. "God, Baby GIrl, you feel better than anything." He kissed you hard as your legs tangled with his, and he held you upright, delving his tongue into your mouth. 

Bradley was dimly aware that you were pulling your shirt over your head, and he watched some strands of your hair fall around your face. You were gorgeous like this, your eyelids half closed as you bit your lip and looked up at him. He shook his head slowly, taking it all in. 

When he guided your sweats and your underwear off, he wrapped his hands around the backs of your thighs and lifted you up, setting you gently on the edge of the counter. Your hands immediately went to his chest, and you yelped, but he wasn't going to drop you. Then you welcomed his lips back to yours as you scooted to the edge. Bradley could feel the warm wetness of your opening pressing against his length when you spread your legs open for him. He adjusted himself so you were perfectly lined up, and he wrapped your arms around his neck before wrapping his hands around your waist. 

He kissed you gently, reverently as he pushed himself inside you. You sighed into his mouth and he moved in a slow, steady rhythm, in time with the sweet melody playing from your phone. He would remember this moment when he was deployed; he'd play it over and over again. Knowing he could come back home to this, to you, made everything okay. 

You ran the tip of your nose along his cheek, kissing him there and whispering his name. Your voice spurred his movements, and he pushed himself into you harder and harder without picking up the pace. He watched your breasts bounce each time he bottomed out, and you tipped your head back, guiding his lips to your neck. He sucked on your soft skin, biting you and nuzzling against you. Then he soothed you with his mustache and his tongue. He only wanted to make you feel good. 

He could feel you starting to squeeze him, so he slid his knuckles back and forth along your belly before settling his fingers on your clit. He gathered some of your wetness and teased you closer to coming. When he wrapped his other arm around your back and pulled you hard onto his length, you cried out, your voice breaking on his name.

Unable to control himself, he fucked into you with faster strokes, nearing his own end as you wrapped your legs around him, riding him to completion. Once you were both panting, and he was just thrusting his cum further into you as his thrusts slowed down, Bradley realized that the kitchen timer was going off.

"Sweetheart, what's the timer for?" he rasped next to your ear, nuzzling against you. He didn't want to pull out of you yet, but he needed to in order to reach the timer. He fumbled with it, distracted as his cum dripped from your pretty pussy and onto the counter. 

"Umm," you hummed, biting your lip and running your hands through your very messy hair. "I ummm... the pies? I think I put pies in the oven?"

Bradley nodded and shoved your oven mitts onto his hands, he carefully pulled both pies out, setting them down gently on the stove burners. He turned to you, and you winced when you saw them. They both had slightly burned edges and very dark tops. 

"I'll still eat them!" Bradley offered when he saw your face. "And I'll love them!"

You cradled your head in your hands and laughed. "This is because you're never quick, Bradley."

"Okay, okay," he said in mock-defense, tossing the mitts onto the counter. "You can complain about a lot of things when it comes to me, but do not complain about that, Baby Girl."

"It was merely an observation, Roo. Not a complaint," you said, giggling as he wrapped his arms around you and kissed you senseless. 

Then after you cleaned up, he helped you bake two new pies while he ate one of the burned ones directly out of the pie pan with a fork. 

--------------------------------

*sigh* Thanks anonymous friend, I really loved writing this one!

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[emotionally-imbruised]

Sink or Swim

In which Harry and Y/N work together as lifeguards.

A/N: here’s (a little late but) day 17 for my bby  @always-jackedup’s 25 days of summer. Make sure to go check out the pieces by all the other authors if you want some fun summer things to read. Also wow, this turned out longer than I was expecting; you all can blame Sarah.

Word Count: 15.8k

As much as she wanted this summer to be one for the record books, just like it had been in recent years, Y/N didn’t have too high of expectations. It sucked a lot, but finally after three years of being away, she was spending her first summer back home in California and to say she wasn’t all that excited about it at all, would have been an understatement.

Once she graduated high school, Y/N stayed in San Jose with her family for a year and a half. She didn’t go to university because frankly, she didn’t know what she wanted to do in life so instead, she worked her ass off while taking a few online classes to save up some money and go see the world. Which is precisely what she did.

She spent the last three years traveling through different countries, gaining new experiences, meeting the greatest people, eating the best food, and working wherever she could to keep doing so. It was an incredible experience, and she’d do it all again if she could, but it did make her feel very alone times, so at the beginning of the year, Y/N started longing for something more permanent. Somewhere she could stay that would allow her to decide what it was she wanted to do, whether that included school or not. After considering all of her options, she decided on heading back to California with plans of moving to LA at the beginning of September and embark on some new journeys in the land of opportunity... Even though the thought of doing that terrified her.

In preparation for her move, Y/N applied to various summer jobs as a way to save up more money until she was able to find a stable job in Los Angeles; and much to her surprise, a lot of those places were very interested in hiring her as a seasonal employee. Amongst those places expressing interest in her was Oceanside Resort and Spa on the outskirts of Bodega Bay. This fancy, membership-only resort that had been in the middle of hiring their summer staff, needed someone to fill one of the open lifeguard positions. The resort provided all training that was required, as well as staff accommodations for the entire summer (which was needed, seeing how far it was from home) and after considering all of her other options, was the one Y/N ultimately decided on. She did all her preliminary training in the weeks leading up to the beginning weeks of summer, and before she knew it, her family was dropping her off at the shuttle bus station in San Francisco to start her new adventure.

Despite its name, Oceanside was not actually located beside the ocean. Yes it was close, and the coast was only a few short minutes away, but Y/N found it somewhat ironic and couldn’t help but chuckle at the pictures of the resort printed in her welcome pamphlet; none of which included snaps of the Pacific. She knew it was stupid to be amused by such a little thing, but as she read the overly extra and dramatic explanation of how great this place was, her laughing increased and wouldn’t stop as she continued reading it over.

Maybe it was because of how she thought whoever decided to make Oceanside’s slogan “A Shell Of A Good Time” should never be allowed to make a slogan ever again, or maybe it was due to the lack of sleep she had the night before. But regardless, Y/N’s laughing didn’t subside and started gaining attention from others on the bus with her.

“Are you done?” A voice hissed from the seat in front of her, causing Y/N to snap her gaze up to be met with Aimee, her best friend from high school, staring back at her. The two of them had kept in touch for the years Y/N was away and decided to apply for jobs together. Lucky for them, Aimee was hired at Oceanside too but as a bartender at the poolside cabana rather than being a lifeguard like Y/N. The two of them applied to be roommates in the cabin that would act as their home for the summer, and as if their luck couldn’t have gotten any better already, they were approved for that too. “We’re not even there yet, and you’re already going to start annoying the shit out of our coworkers.”

“Sorry,” Y/N replied sheepishly, lowering herself into her seat more as her chuckles reduced to snickering. “Ok, but for real... have you read this thing?”

“Yes, I have,” Aimee stated as she reached over to snatch the pamphlet from her best friends grasp, turning back around so Y/N wouldn’t see the broad grin plastered on her face as well. “And yes I know it all sounds ridiculous but, a job is a job.”

“Got that right. And this place seems to have its perks, won’t be the worst job ever.”

Aimee just nodded before turning around to face Y/N again and tossing the now crumpled up pamphlet between the ugly blue patterned seats at her head. “Exactly, and we’ll be together. It’ll be a summer to remember.”

“I don’t know about that,” Y/N grumbled with a shrug, not paying any attention to the skeptical look Aimee was giving her as she tried to uncrumple the piece of paper on her lap. “I’m not here to have fun, you know? Sure if it happens, great, but I really need this job Aims… or LA just won’t be happening. I need to do good here and not mess it up.”

“I know,” Aimee responded and waited for her friend to make eye contact again. “But you can’t be having that mindset, ok? Obviously, work hard and everything, but also let yourself have fun, Y/N. We’re adults now and won’t have many more chances to do things like this. May as well make it count.”

There was no point in arguing against Aimee’s statement because Y/N knew she was right. Although her main focus of the summer was to make as much money as she could and save it, that thought alone made her fear about wasting away one of her favorite times of the year; which was the last thing she wanted to do. She thought about how maybe she could put herself out there a little bit and see what would happen, but for the time being, she decided on just biting down on her lip and nodding in agreement.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“I know I’m right, you don’t gotta tell me.”

“Oh, whatever,” Y/N scoffed as Aimee laughed and faced forward again, preparing to put her headphones on and just zone out for the remainder of the drive. However, before she had the chance to do that in peace, Y/N leaned forward and lowered her voice just so that only Aimee could hear. “Hey Aims, do you know what we’re going to have?”

“Don’t say it.”

“A shell of a good time,” Y/N blurted out, trying so hard to keep a straight face. The audible groan that left Aimee’s mouth was enough to feed on Y/N’s ego and caused her to fall into another laughing fit. This went on for a few minutes, and as she was starting to recollect herself, Y/N noticed how Aimee was now slinging her duffle bag over her shoulder and standing up, all while giving her a pointed glare. “Come on, it was funny.”

“Sick of you already,” she mumbled in response before moving to sit in the seats a few rows behind Y/N in silence and remaining there for the rest of the trip.

Once they arrived at Oceanside, Y/N and Aimee were given a quick, half-assed tour of the resort before being shown where they’d be living for the summer. There was no need for them to get an entire lay of the land just yet seeing as their first day of work was still a few days away, and both girls were rather thankful they’d have the weekend off before diving right in.

Y/N took this time to really let it all sink in and appreciate how she actually got to call this place home for the next two and a half months. There was no doubting that Oceanside was absolutely stunning and genuinely seemed liked its own little private oasis. It had a very serene atmosphere and didn’t seem to be lacking in anything whatsoever. However, Y/N knew it may take her a little while to get used to everything.

The resort was huge. When the bus made way up the long winding driveway that starts at Oceanside’s gated entrance, the first thing that could be seen was the clubhouse; the place Y/N figured she’d probably be spending most of her time while clocked in for work when she wasn’t at the pool. The large cream-colored building was sat on top of a hill and stood out amongst the greenery surrounding it. Y/N was told this place was what made every other part of the resort accessible, and was the first stop on hers and Aimee’s little tour.

Once inside the sliding doors of the clubhouse, they found themselves standing in the middle of the lobby; the area that acted as the place everyone needed to go to first regardless of who they were. It was where the resort guests would check-in for their stay as well as to book any extra classes/activities they wanted to do, spa services, tee time on the golf course, or to simply get any information they needed. It was also where all the staff would have any meetings after hours and go to punch in and out for each of their shifts, seeing as it was connected to basically everything. The spa and gym were to the left of the front desk, the dining room where all the guests would eat their meals was to the right and had the kitchen attached to it at the back. The kitchen itself was unnecessarily large and staffed many people, but its size made sense seeing as there were apparently a lot of guests that came here throughout the summer.

To the back of the kitchen was a door that led to another large room, one that none of the guests had access to. It was not as fancy as the rest of the clubhouse by any means and was actually kind of run down, but to Y/N, it had the most character. To put it simply, it was a mess hall for all of the staff working at the resort. There were two long wooden tables with benches that took up most of the space in the room, matching very well with the old, cracked wooden flooring and beams that crossed above on the high ceiling. Sat at the tables were her new co-workers talking, laughing, gossiping, and eating with one another. Many of them sent friendly smiles Y/N’s way, but the odd person eyed her and Aimee up a little bit -- clearly aware of how the newbies have arrived.

Once Y/N and Aimee made it through the mess hall, they exited through a side door that entered out onto a beautiful stone and marble courtyard. There was a large fountain in the middle of it with four flower gardens that take up each corner of the space. Nothing covered it from above which left it to be filled entirely with natural light and just gave Y/N the best feeling. It was her favorite spot by far.

Just past the courtyard was the pool, and it exceeded all expectations as well. It too was quite large, having a shallow section for kids and a deeper end for adults only. There was little potted plants and succulents around the entire area and no shortage of lounge chairs whatsoever. One of the first things Y/N noticed was how two lifeguards were monitoring the pool as opposed to only one. There was one sitting on the lifeguard stand that was positioned on top of the natural-looking stone waterfall on the other side of the pool, while the additional lifeguard patrolled on the same side she was standing; watching for any out of the ordinary behavior with a rescue buoy in hand. She was quick in noting how her shifts would more than likely be with someone else and that alone gave her some peace of mind. After scoping out the rest of the pool area, the two girls made way to the poolside bar where Aimee would be working and alas, their tour ended.

Upon arrival to Oceanside, the first person, Y/N and Aimee, met was Mr. Andrew Slack, the manager of the resort and well, their boss. He was kind enough and was the one to give them the tour, however, he came across as a very busy man, and just as he was finishing showing them around, he got a phone call and had to leave the girls to fend for themselves. Andrew briefly explained where they had to go to get to where the staff housing was located, before muttering a quick goodbye and heading back towards the clubhouse and answered the phone. After a moment of silently watching him go, Y/N and Aimee glanced at each other and shrugged before heading down the path he pointed out to them so they could finally put their bags down and get settled in.

“Are you sure we’re even going the right way?” Aimee groaned from a few feet behind Y/N as they came to a fork in the road, looking at the various paths they could venture down. They were maybe two minutes from the clubhouse, the sounds of people chatting and splashing around in the pool could still be heard, but she was exhausted.

“Not particularly,” Y/N responded, letting one of her duffle bags fall to the ground as she approached a tall wooden sign that listed various places they could get to and which path they’d need to take, one of them labeled staff cabins. She looked down the trail to her left, and sure enough, more laughter and chatter could be heard from what she assumed was others moving in as well. “This way, I think.“

The two girls walked down the path Y/N suggested, and soon enough, they came into a large clearing where fifteen different cabins resided. Five of the cottages were a bit smaller than the others, which only allowed two people to stay in them rather than the four that would remain in any of the others. According to one of the people on the bus there, only returning staff were able to apply for the two-person cabins, but both Y/N and Aimee were already aware that they’d be sharing a living space with two other girls, so that fact didn’t really phase them. Not every staff member needed accommodations because many were locals to the area, but nonetheless, Y/N was thankful that she did indeed have a place to stay.

Aimee inched ahead in search of their cabin and didn’t realize Y/N had fallen back a bit while she was taking in their surroundings. With a small smirk forming on her lips, Aimee decided to snap her best friend out of the little daze she was in. “Watch out for that root.”

“What root-,” Y/N started and snapped her gaze to Aimee, before staggering a bit as she took a step forward and tripped over a thick tree root that was sticking up from the ground. She quickly regained her balance and played it off as if nothing had happened, earning a loud chuckle from Aimee. “Ah, that root.”

“And they want you to be a lifeguard? Those poor people.”

Y/N just glared at her friend instead of responding as they continued forward in search of cabin 4.

It didn’t take long for them to reach their new summer home and just upon the sight of the slightly rundown looking cabin, Aimee was full-on sprinting up the steps in hopes she could claim the first bed. Y/N trudged after her, slowly making her way up the rickety wooden steps, but halting when a loud crack and some shouting sounded from behind her.

“Oi! Now, look what you’ve done.”

She raised her eyebrow skeptically at the sudden commotion before gradually spinning around on her heel to see what the hell was going on. On the other side of the trail, at the cabin directly across from hers, Y/N observed as two boys stood outside of their tiny lodge that was almost identical to her own. One of them had his back to her, and she couldn’t help but stare as his body rippled with laughter, letting her eyes roam more than she intended. He wore a pair of dark pants and a simple white t-shirt. Multiple tattoos littered his left arm, while his right arm almost seemed bare. She couldn’t see much else but noticed how he had a pair of black sunglasses on is head as a way to keep his mob of brown, shaggy, curls away from his face. There was no way of knowing how long she stood there gawking at the man, but as soon as the guy he was with spoke up, she was brought back to reality.

“You know, the least you could do is help me.”

It was then Y/N noticed that the other boy was standing with one foot stuck in the staircase. Somehow one of the wooden planks snapped and resulted in him falling through the step. Y/N immediately thought about all the first aid training she’d endured just to be ready for this job and found herself dropping all of her things on the porch before rushing down the stairs and over to the two men.

She didn’t waste any time in brushing past the guy in the white shirt to get to his friend, because truthfully, he could have gotten really hurt and the other guy was not being any help. “Hey, are you alright?”

“Oh, just dandy,” the guy stuck in the stairs muttered before placing a hand on the railing and using it to keep himself balanced as he stepped out from the broken wood and up onto the deck. “Thanks for your concern, though. Nice to know someone’s watching out for me when my so-called friend isn’t.”

“Oh, get off it,” the other man spoke up from behind Y/N again, sparking her interest with how the words came from his mouth in with a distinctly British accent. Slowly, she turned around to actually get a look at them, and when she did, she felt as if the air had been knocked right out of her chest.

As soon as she locked eye contact with the man, his familiar green eyes widened in surprise as they both gawked at each other in complete and utter shock. He recognized her too.

“You-.”

“I know you!” His voice boomed and caused a blush to immediately burn across her cheeks. “We went to high school together, yeah?”

The man in front of her was none other than Harry Styles. A kind British lad who was two grades ahead of Y/N, all through high school. They had some mutual friends, and Y/N was aware of how Harry had moved from a small town in Cheshire to San Jose during her freshman year. The two were never really that close, but they knew of each other and had met a few times in passing, which left Y/N to be more than surprised at the fact that he’d even recognize her.

“It’s Y/N, innit?”

“Uh yeah,” she replied and shook her head free of any lurking thoughts, fully aware of how he’s aged very nicely over the years. “It is. And you’re Harry, right?”

“The one and only.”

“Pretty sure there’s other Harry’s in the world, dumbass,” the other guy spoke up from behind her again, causing Y/N to chuckle.

“You’re not funny, mate,” Harry snapped before making eye contact with Y/N and letting out a huff. “That there is my irrelevant and incompetent roommate, Nick. Guess he’s m’friend and all too, but that’s just a minor detail.”

“The greatest detail actually, seeing as I’m the only one that’ll put up with you.”

“Ok, anyway,” Harry cut his friend off with a glare, a small smile forming on his lips as he watched Y/N giggling at their antics. “What brings you to Oceanside?”

“I needed a summer job,” Y/N explained with a shrug, looking between the two boys as they nodded in understanding. “I went away for a while and am now trying to make ends meet. What better way to do that than being a lifeguard at some fancy resort? Man, I feel like I’m in High School Musical 2 just being here.”

“It gives me more Dirty Dancing vibes, but I can see why’d you think that,” Harry responded with a warm smile, causing a swarm of butterflies to form in the pit of Y/N’s stomach.

“Yeah we’re basically living in a cliche summer romance movie, aren’t we?” Nick piped up before nodding towards Harry. “But hey, at least now you know who the new lifeguard is.”

“You’re a lifeguard too?” Y/N asked surprised, feeling caught off guard by just how small the world was seeming to be.

“Yeah, s’my what, third summer working here now? That sounds about right.”

“Oh, wow,” Y/N replied, making no attempt in masking her shock. “Must be an alright job.”

“Pays the bills at least,” he told her with a shrug. “It’s a good way to make money when you’re not in school for the summer, m’assuming that’s what you’re doing .”

“Kind of. I uh, I didn’t go to university once I graduated high school and traveled instead. Reality caught up with me eventually, and now I need to work so I can start figuring what I’m going to do with my life. I’m moving to LA in September, so hopefully, I’ll figure something out there.”

“Weird, so is Harry,” Nick added.

“Really?”

“I am,” Harry answered. “Got an internship with a record label there, gonna try to amount to something I guess.”

Y/N watched as his gaze fell from hers to the ground, where he awkwardly shifted his weight from one foot to another. He didn’t seem too confident talking about this specific subject, so Y/N took it as a hint to move on from it. “Well, I’m sure you’ll do great. Anyways, my roommate is probably wondering where I went, I uh, I’ll see you guys around. And maybe you should get someone to fix that step before someone actually does get hurt.”

The three of them laughed before Y/N slowly started backing away and headed towards her cabin. Nick waved her goodbye, but Harry didn’t say anything. It made her wonder if she had said something wrong, but regardless, she shook her head and made her way up the steps to gather her bags again and head inside; utterly oblivious to how Harry’s eyes didn’t leave her once as he watched her walk away.

The next four weeks went by rather quickly, and Y/N was already having much more fun than she had anticipated. In her short time working at Oceanside, she had already managed to develop quite a few friends from the people she’d met, and it made the whole experience better, just like Aimee had said. Her and Aimee both made fast friends with their two other roommates Dana and Maya, who were twin sisters but couldn’t be more different from one another. Dana worked as a waitress in the dining hall for the guests, while Maya worked out on the golf course providing beginner lessons to those who signed up for them. The two sisters butt heads a lot, so it was smart to not have them working together in Y/N’s opinion, but she really did enjoy spending time with both of them nonetheless.

Another person she clicked with really well, was Nick. When he wasn’t busy sassing Harry or organizing activities and events for the guests to do during their stay, Nick was Y/N’s go-to person (other than Aimee) for anything really. He was her helping hand when she needed it, and the best person to rant or gossip to when something had irked her. She was the same type of friend to him, and it didn’t take her long to realize he’d be one of the people she knew she’d miss the most come to the end of summer.

Every guest Y/N had encountered who stayed at the resort, was very kind, and treated her with respect. She was quick in figuring out who the regular families were, the ones that came to Oceanside every summer as their vacation and got the lowdown on how long each of them had been doing so from Mr. Slack (or Mr. Whack as Harry and Nick would call him behind his back.) Amongst those families was the Huntington family. Mr. Huntington, a successful business mogul, had brought his family to and donated a lot of money to this specific resort for about eight years now, or at least that was what Mrs. Huntington had told Y/N. They were a very reserved family, but actually very friendly. Mrs. Huntington was a regular to the Tuesday morning water workout classes Y/N would teach and was a joy to be around while her husband would poke fun of her from where he lounged on a chair nearby. They had a son, Tyler, who was assumedly Y/N’s age and had many friends from other families that stayed there as well. When he wasn’t with those friends, he was spending time with his family or striking up a conversation with Y/N when she had some downtime during her shifts.

Last, and certainly not least, the final and the arguably most significant relationship she had developed so far, was with Harry. The two of them had almost exact work schedules, which naturally led to them spending a lot of time together. He was the one to show her the ropes of lifeguarding in general, as well as what to do in certain situations and was always there to have her back if needed. When both working, Y/N usually sat on the lifeguard stand while Harry patrolled the edge of the pool. They’d tease each other from a distance, sticking their tongues out at each other when no one was looking, or mouthing the words “don’t slip” when they switched their spots so Y/N could teach some of her workout classes.

The first thing that really warmed them up to one another was actually on Y/N’s first day. She had cut through the kitchen to get to the lobby to punch in on time and almost ran directly into Harry. She hadn’t seen him since she moved in those few short days before, but the way he just stared at her and started chuckling struck something within her.

“Do you have a problem?” She asked and grew slightly aggravated when his laughing increased. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” he said firmly and tried to regain his composure, but failed miserably. “It’s just that I didn’t know management was going for matching uniforms this year.”

Y/N scowled at him before slowly glancing down at her outfit to see what he was talking about, only to become even more confused. Her uniform was simple enough, just a red full-piece bathing suit that had to be paired with white shorts and if she so decided, the white terry cloth sweater she was given with Oceanside’s emblem on it. She paired the outfit with the metal whistle she had to wear, some sunglasses to keep her hair out of her face, and a pair of black Adidas slides because there was no way she was walking around the pool without proper footwear.

To her, there was nothing wrong with the outfit, but once she was finished taking in her own appearance, Y/N moved her gaze to Harry and finally realized what he was going on about. He too was wearing a pair of red swim trunks, with a kind of tight looking white tank top that also had the emblem stitched into it as well. His outfit was almost identical to her own, but what got her the most was how he too had a pair of sunglasses pushing his mob of curls back and a matching pair of Adidas sandals. The two of them looked ridiculous standing side by side.

“Oh god,” Y/N groaned, which only caused Harry to burst out into laughter again. She was about to make another comment, but before she could, her phone started buzzing with the reminder that her shift started in five minutes. “Crap, we should go.”

“Lead the way,” Harry responded and dramatically bowed as a way to tell her to go first. She shook her head and proceeded, only making it a few steps before he spoke up again. “Hey Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Hate to break it to you, love, but I wear it better.”

Y/N scoffed and froze, turning to send him a glare but couldn’t help but laugh too as he just chuckled again and rushed forward to avoid her wrath. Their shifts together after that were just the same harmless and fun routine, and it really didn’t take Y/N long to realize just how much she enjoyed being around Harry, and that feeling only grew as the weeks went on.

One Friday afternoon, when Y/N and Harry were both finishing up their shift together by folding towels in the clubhouse laundry room so the lifeguards on the evening shift would have less to do, Harry decided to throw Y/N off guard with a question.

It was one he’d meant to ask her all week but couldn’t figure out how to bring it up in conversation. As he stood there watching her fold each towel with as much focus and precision as the last, he knew their shift was coming to an end soon and how he may not get to ask her if he didn’t do it right then. So, with a deep breath and a subtle clearing of his throat, he asked her.

“Are you going to the staff party tonight?”

“Hmm?” She replied, surprised, having to take a second to process the unexpected question. “Like the one that is thrown in the mess hall every weekend?”

“That’d be the one.”

“I uh, I don’t know,” she murmured and set down the last towel she had just finished folding. “Aimee, Dana, and Maya have been telling me I need to go to at least one. Apparently, they’re fun.”

“They are. S’nice hanging out with everyone in a non-work setting,” he explained, but avoided eye contact; suddenly feeling as if he might get turned down even though he has not built up enough courage to actually ask her out just yet. They’d become rather close, and there was this certain spark he felt whenever she was around, but again, was too chicken to actually do anything about.

“Are you going’?”

This time it was her question that caught him off guard because realistically he was expecting her to simply just say no. “Yeah I am, promised Nick I’d go with him.”

“Oh well if Nick is going then maybe I’ll consider it,” Y/N teased, unsure if this was his attempted way in saying he’d like her to go or not -- completely oblivious to just how bad he wanted her to be there with how well he masked it. He just chuckled in response as Y/N felt a sudden wave awkwardness consume the comfortable feeling she usually had whenever he was around. She glanced at the clock to see their shift had ended and decided to use that as an excuse to remove herself from the situation. “Looks like we’re done for the day. Maybe I’ll see you around this weekend?”

“Oh, yeah, see yeh Y/N.”

And with that, he watched her leave yet again.

After her conversation with Harry, it didn’t take much for Y/N’s roommates to convince her into going to the part, even going to the extent of her letting them pick out her outfit for the night. They decided on a simple black dress that Dana owned, one that just so happened to hug Y/N’s body in all the right places. The outfit was paired with a few of Aimee’s accessories while Maya styled her hair and if Y/N didn’t know any better, she’d assume those three were plotting something with how much effort they put into her appearance that night.

Once they were all dressed up, the four girls left the cabin and made way to the mess hall.

Y/N didn’t really know what to expect from this party, but upon stepping foot into the hall, she couldn’t help but let her eyes widen in surprise as she took in the scene around her. The two long wooden tables that regularly took up most of the space in the room were pushed against the walls and made a makeshift space that acted like a dancefloor. Couples danced together to the music playing, grinding and holding onto each other like a bunch of horny teenagers, while others exited from the kitchen with drinks in hand. It all looked like a scene from a movie, and Y/N had to shake her head at it all. Harry was right, this place really was much more like Dirty Dancing than High School Musical.

As if on cue, a familiar voice sounded from her right, and Y/N was soon faced to face with Nick. He wasted no time engulfing her in a tight hug before he moved on to greet the other girls. Y/N said hi to the people that had come over with Nick before moving her gaze to meet with an oh so familiar pair of stunning green eyes and smiling.

Harry had a wide grin on his face as he stepped towards her and pulled her into his chest for a quick hug as well. The gesture surprised Y/N, but she also found a sense of genuine warmth in his embrace before slowly moving away to look up at him again.

“You made it!” He exclaimed and just couldn’t stop smiling at the fact of her being there.

The way he grinned at Y/N made the butterflies in her stomach swarm, and she found herself having to break eye contact with him before her blush got too noticeable. She took that time to give him a once over and couldn’t keep herself from feeling some type of way. He was wearing a simple grey buttoned-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up, shamelessly displaying his arm tattoos that just so happened to capture Y/N’s attention more than usual as the strobe lights danced across them. His hair was messy, but a good kind of messy Y/N decided; the entire look was just very, Harry and that thought alone made her smile.

“You look great by the way,” his voice snapped Y/N from her trance as looked around to see all of her friends have scattered and it was just her and Harry now.

“Thanks,” she continued to blush. “You look good too.”

A moment of awkward silence washed over them as neither really knew what else to say. Harry knew he could just end the conversation right there, but that wasn’t really something he wanted to do, so he began racking his brain for ideas on how to keep the conversation going. As if someone had heard him trying to think up something, the song that was playing changed and the upbeat intro of Right Back by Khalid started booming from the nearby speakers; causing him to grin all over again.

“Would you like to dance?”

“Me?” Y/N squeaked and glanced around because surely he wasn’t talking to her.

“Yes, you,” he chuckled. “I mean, I could ask Nick but who knows where he went off to.”

Y/N bit down on her bottom lip nervously, her heart fluttering at what felt like a million miles a second as she slowly nodded her head. “I’d like that.”

If it wasn’t for the few drinks she downed with her friends while getting ready for this thing, Y/N was sure she would not have been in this situation whatsoever. But alas, the alcohol gave her the liquid courage she needed to let Harry grab her hand and lead her out to the middle of the dancefloor. When they came to a small clearing, Harry dramatically spun around to face her again, causing her to laugh out loud as he dorkily pointed at her with finger guns. He had a goofy smirk plastered on his mouth as he started moving to the music and Y/N soon found herself swaying her hips to the beat too. She glanced at the people around her dancing very close to one another for this particular song and suddenly felt very out of place. They were entirely surrounded by couples.

As if sensing Y/N’s sudden discomfort at their setting, Harry mindlessly moved towards her until there were only a few inches between them. She looked up at him with wide eyes, but with him merely just being there, she didn’t feel as anxious. The two of them remained like that for a moment, lost in each other before Harry went to wrap his right arm around her waist; but stopped himself before he could.

“Uh, would you mind if I-?”

Y/N smiled at how he became so flustered, and simply could not find it in her to deny him. “You don’t have to ask.”

Harry didn’t know what to expect Y/N’s answer to be, but a massive wave of relief washed over him as he returned her smile and continued his movements. He snaked his arms around her waist just as the chorus started playing again and pulled her close, before shifting to rest his hands on her waist as they started moving to the music together.

Hesitantly, Y/N placed her hands on his chest before slowly moving them up to wrap around the back of his neck. Harry loved witnessing her gradually become more comfortable with what they were doing because with how much time he’d spent with her so far this summer, he knew this whole thing wasn’t exactly her scene. She seemed to actually be having fun, though. Throughout the song, she had already let him in more than she had over the last month, looking so content and at peace. It was at that moment Harry realized how he was going to do whatever he could in his power to make her feel that way as often as possible.

Y/N liked being this close to Harry more than she wanted to admit. There was something about him that drew her in and made her want to stay. Sure she considered him to be a friend and all already, but tonight felt different, a good different. She would never dance or act like this with just anybody, but with Harry, it felt natural.

Harry slowly leaned his forehead against Y/N’s as she started twisting the smalls curls at the nape of his neck and felt himself fall into a state of contentment as well. They danced with each other for the remainder of the song, along with the next two before Harry slowly started moving away.

A look of confusion washed over Y/N’s features, but it soon faded as Harry linked his hand with hers and started leading them away from the dancefloor. “Follow me.”

Y/N had no idea where he was taking her, but she didn’t question it either as she let him guide them towards the side door that led them out into the courtyard. There was no one else out there, which was a pleasant change from the crowded area they were just in.

As they walked hand in hand together, the two remained silent, and Y/N tried to keep her breathing steady as Harry gently rubbed his thumb over her knuckles and lead them towards the fountain. They started off talking about the night’s festivities along with not really knowing where all of their friends had gone off to, however, that casual conversation quickly turned deep when they started asking questions about each other, but in a very gradual, comfortable way that surprised both of them.

Y/N was the first to open up. She wasn’t really one to layout her entire life story just for someone to judge it and point out where things could have been changed, but with Harry, she didn’t feel that way once. He expressed genuine interest in what she was saying and soon enough, she was telling him everything. She explained why she thought she needed to leave California for a while after high school and her experiences abroad. With that, she talked about how she felt that time could significantly change people and as much as it sucks to admit, there’s nothing anyone can really do about it either. Her primary example being how Aimee is the only person she kept in contact with from high school because she had grown apart from everyone else. Y/N even went on to explain how she wasn’t able to form very close bonds with people she met during her travels, due to her fear of letting people in just enough so that she’s comfortable before leaving her high and dry.

Harry hung on to her every word, providing a comforting squeeze to her hand when she’d bring up things that were a bit tougher to talk about, and just nodding as she went on to let her know that he really did want to be there, listening to what she had to say. Once she was done, he could tell how relieved she was by simply being able to share all of that with someone she trusted enough to know the things that made her, her. Harry knew how much Y/N appreciated him for letting her vent, and in return, let him know that she would do the same for him if he ever wanted to, and so he did.

The two talked for hours, although it only seemed like mere minutes to them. Once Harry finished his back story of everything that had happened since he graduated high school, he expressed his want to return to England soon and that his money from this job was going to allow him to do so. He went off about how excited he was for his move to LA and his dreams of making it big in the music industry one day, but for now, Harry was rather content with where he was (specifically in that moment with Y/N).

As the night went on, it was Y/N that noticed the party had died down, seeing as no music could be heard anymore and that it was getting rather late. 

Y/N was fully aware of how neither she or Harry worked the next day but still felt a little anxious at the thought of her friends giving her an earful for not having a clue as to where she had gone or who she was with. Luckily for her, the conversation she was having with Harry was much more lighthearted than it was before and she didn’t feel as bad for interrupting it.

“Hey, H?” She spoke up, smiling inwardly to herself at the little nickname she’d mindlessly decided to call him. “I think everyone’s gone back to the cabins, think we should go too?”

There was no doubting that Harry didn’t want the night to end just yet and couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed at the thought itself. So, being the quick thinker he was, he glanced around at their surroundings and tried to think of a way to keep her around; a mischievous grin dancing on his lips when his gaze falls on the pool and an idea sprang to his mind. “We could do that, or we could do something completely different. Something fun.”

“Oh, well, what did you have in mind?”

“Something that I’m going to do regardless of if you join or not, even though I’d much prefer if you did,” he smirked and observed as her eyebrows started to furrow.

“Harry…”

A tiny, heartfelt laugh left Harry’s mouth at the small pout that was forming on her lips as she spoke. She had no idea what he was planning, and it made him that much more excited to mess with her a little bit. He watched as she bit down on her lip in anticipation, and waited for him to say something and after a moment of keeping her on her toes, he leaned forward to whisper lowly in her ear.

“I’m going to go swimming.”

With that, Harry stood up from his spot on the edge of the fountain and jogged his way over to the pool. As much as Harry wished he could see the look of disapproval, he knew Y/N would be looking at him with, he didn’t stop to glance back at her. Instead, he approached the pool gate and glanced around to make sure no security guards were out on patrol, before quietly lifting the latch to unlock it and slowly pushing it open.

Once inside the gate, he walked over to one of the poolside lounge chairs and set his phone and wallet on it before unashamedly starting to strip down to his boxers. Just as he tossed his shirt on the chair and moved to begin unbuttoning his pants, he heard the pool gate creak open again and was already smiling at what was about to come.

“Are you insane?” Y/N’s voice hissed as she followed after him scowling. “Harry, you’re going to get us in so much trouble.”

“Can’t get in trouble if we don’t get caught,” he shrugged as he stepped out of his pants and set them on the chair too. Goosebumps raised on his torso as the cold night air came in contact with his newly exposed skin, but he ignored it as he turned around to face Y/N again. He could tell she was cold by the way she had her arms tightly wrapped her body as a breeze wisped her hair around, and decided to use that factor to his advantage. “The pool is heated.”

“I know it’s heated, I work here too, you know.”

“I do,” he responded smugly and tilted his head to the side. “Well, are you coming in or are you too chicken?”

There was a glint in her eyes that he recognized to be the competitive streak in her coming out. He’s managed to see this side of her a handful of times while he was pressing her buttons at work and seeing her look back at him that way made him think that he may have her convinced, however, the glint faltered as she nervously looked around to see if anyone was nearby. “I don’t know H-.”

Harry could tell that deep down she wanted to join him, she really did. However, he also knew damn well that doing anything that could possibly jeopardize her job here cause Y/N a lot of anxiety. But maybe, just maybe, he’d be able to crack through that wall she keeps putting up that prevents her from doing something fun and reckless for once.

Slowly, Harry walked towards her with a mission. As soon as he was close enough to do so, he reached out and linked their hands together; giving that little bit of reassurance she wanted so badly.

“I’m not going to make you do it if you don’t want to love, but if for whatever reason something did happen, I’ll make sure nothing happens to you.” He paused and watched as her features slowly softened, her hand squeezing his a little tighter all at the same time. “Do you trust me?”

“You already know I do,” she whispered and earned herself a small smile from Harry as she let go of his hand and stepped towards the pool. This time it was Y/N’s turn to shamelessly strip down to her underwear with her back turned to Harry.

Harry was surprised by her sudden burst of confidence as she casually kicked her shoes off and pulled the dress she was wearing up over her head -- letting it fall to the ground in such a simple, yet unknowingly sexy way that had Harry growing more frustrated with each passing second.

Y/N kept her back to him, not wanting him to see just how badly she was blushing. Once she was left in only her mismatched grey/black cotton bra and undies, she stepped towards the edge of the pool and waited for Harry. She smiled to herself as soon as he was standing beside her again and pondered her movements for a minute before making the executive decision to try and push Harry into the pool.

However, her plan backfired, seeing as she did not account for just how buff Harry was and that the likelihood of him actually falling in was slim to none. To make matters worse, Y/N stumbled slightly when she tried pushing him to which Harry instinctively wrapped his arms around her waist so that she wouldn’t fall in instead. Once she was steady, Y/N finally looked up to Harry and internally groaned.

“You just tried to push me in!” He exclaimed dramatically.

“And stupid me thought it’d actually work,” Y/N grumbled as she tried to squirm out of Harry’s grasp. She almost broke free, but before she knew it, Harry was pulling her back against his chest and began tickling her at her sides. She burst into laughter as she began squirming even more and tried to push him away. “H-Harry, stop!”

“You’re wrong if you thought I was letting you get away with that. I’m hurt, Y/N.”

“You’ll get over it,” she replied in a huff as she continued trying to escape Harry’s hold. This continued for another minute as Harry slowly but surely moved them back towards the pool’s edge, and Y/N’s wriggling intensified. She knew what he was about to do and without thinking,  blurted out the first thing that came to mind to prevent him from doing so. “No, don’t! I can’t swim!”

Harry’s movements halted as soon as those words left her mouth, leaving Y/N to cover her mouth to stifle another laugh. She hadn’t considered how ridiculous her statement was until after she said it, and couldn’t help but laugh at how far from the truth it actually was. Harry didn’t move his hands from her waist, and although she really didn’t want to turn to face him, she eventually did and prepared for his reaction.

He stayed silent for a split second before narrowing her eyes and tightening his grip on her waist. “You’re so full of shit.”

Before she could respond again, Harry was lifting her up and jumping into the pool with her in his hold; finally putting the entire argument to rest. As soon as she was surrounded by water, Y/N swam away from Harry and used her feet to push off the bottom of the pool so that she could get back up to the surface and catch her breath.

Harry resurfaced shortly after and they both broke into another laughing fit. The two of them stayed there, treading water for a few minutes before Harry decided to splash Y/N out of nowhere, causing her to gasp dramatically.

She splashed him back but gave up the fight when he returned the gesture with a much larger wave that crashed right into her face. “Ok, I guess I deserved that.”

“Damn right you did,” he replied sassily and treaded and little closer to her. They watched each other for a minute before Harry started lowering the bottom half of his head into the water, just enough that only his eyes were still above the water. Y/N watched him curiously and couldn't help but roll her eyes when he exhaled deeply out of his mouth so that a series of bubbles would rise to the surface and pop around him as he kept eye contact with Y/N.

“God, you are such a child!” She squealed and started swimming away from the shallow end of the pool.

“You love it,” he before shaking his wet, matted curls and swimming after her.

The next half an hour or so is spent with Y/N and Harry goofing off together, and really just having the time of their lives. They had a race to see who could swim from one end of the pool to the other and back the fastest, to which Harry won only by a little bit. However, he soon lost his title when Y/N challenged him to see who could remain in and underwater handstand the longest without falling over or having to swim up for air.

Neither of them had a care in the world, but that quickly changed when the sound of jingling keys and heavy footsteps could be heard in the distance but were undoubtedly getting closer to the pool area. Y/N froze in place, and her face went white, the previous panic she had before of getting caught returning and causing her to be on the verge of hyperventilation.

“Harry, what do we do?!” She asked in a hushed tone, knowing that if they were to just jump out of the pool and make a run for it, they would most definitely get caught. “Y-y-you said-.”

“I know Y/N,” Harry hissed as he stood up and looked towards the courtyard, only to see the beam of a flashlight coming their way. “Ok, ok, I need you to do as I say and not argue with me, alright?”

Y/N nodded frantically but kept her mouth shut as she let Harry gently push her against the side of the pool. His hands never left her body, and to be honest, it’d stress her out even more if he weren’t there. Harry was keeping her calm. She observed as he intently watched the direction the noises of the person approaching came from, not being able to keep her eyes from the way the elegant butterfly and sparrows tattooed on his stomach and chest moved with each breath. Part of her wanted to reach out and trach along with the ink, but she knew now wasn’t the time and kept her hands to herself while she waited for Harry to tell her what to do next.

“Ok, when I say, I want you to go under the water as quietly as you can and swim behind the waterfall. Stay low when you come back up, I don’t think security will see you that way.” His plan was simple enough and actually seemed as though it could work, so with a silent nod, Y/N got in position and waited for him to give her the ok to go. “Alright…. Now.”

Y/N did as Harry said and quietly went back under the water. She kicked off the wall and smoothly glided under the water and didn’t come back up until she reached the wall she knew was behind the waterfall and beneath where her lifeguard chair was resting up top. Once she came up for air, she pressed her back against the wall to remain unseen and waited patiently for Harry.

Before Y/N could really start getting worried, she was able to make out Harry’s figure swimming beneath the waterfall just as she watched a flashlight beam over the part of the pool that she and Harry had only been. She unknowingly pressed her back harder to the wall and held her breath, keeping her eyes closed as she waited for someone to demand that they come out from the waterfall.

A few agonizing moments go by as Y/N prepared for the worst, but the worst never happens. She peeked one eye open just as Harry disappeared under the water again and swam back out into the regular part of the pool. A portion of her wanted to wait for his confirmation, but when it took him a bit longer than she was expecting for him to come back, she knew the coast must’ve been clear; so she followed after him.

Sure enough, when she resurfaced again, there was no security standing at the edge of the pool, waiting to give them shit; but instead, it was just Harry standing with his back to her, with his muscles tense. Cautiously, she approached him.

“We should get going,” he finally spoke up when there was no longer too much of a space between them. He turned around to face Y/N, but couldn’t seem to actually look at her. “Tha’ was closer than I’d like it to be, and we may not have time before he’s back.”

“H-.”

“And you probably don’t want anything to do with me after putting you in a stressful situation like that, this is all my fault,” he continued to ramble as she kept approaching him.

“Harry…”

“God, I swear I didn’t think anyone would actually come by but-.” This time it was Y/N who cut Harry off as she made one final step towards him and placed a hand behind his neck. She pulled him towards her at the same time she stood up onto her tippy toes and waited for the sparks she knew would go off once their lips came in contact with one another.

To say it felt like magic would have been an understatement because how it felt for Y/N and Harry to be at that moment, after spending such a great night together was simply indescribable. They both really liked the feeling of being there, together, making out, even though it was in the pool they both were lifeguards for, and soon found themselves getting lost in the kiss.

Harry quickly pulled her closer to him, wanting to have as little space between them as possible as his hands tangled into her hair so that the kiss could deepen. Y/N reacted by moaning slightly into his mouth and parting her lips more so that she could allow him more access.

They continued making out as Harry placed his hands under Y/N’s thighs so that she could wrap her legs around his waist. They kept going at it when Y/N’s back gently collided with the pool wall again, and she placed her hands on either side of his face just so that she could keep him near. The only thing that was going to make them break away from one another was going to be the need for air, and even that took a few minutes to happen, but eventually, it did.

The two of them slowly pulled away from each other, lips swollen, and panting for air as Y/N glanced up at Harry and smiled lightly. “You were putting words into my mouth.”

“Clearly I need to do that more often,” he chuckled before leaning down and catching her lips in another quick, yet sweet, kiss. Once he was done, he leaned back away from her again, his thumbs twiddling with the material of her underwear as they made no indication of wanting to move from one another. Eventually, it was Harry that broke the silence again. “Think we should get out here?”

“Not the worst idea I don't think,” Y/N responded with a nod.

The two of them untangled themselves from one another and climbed out of the pool before gathering their things and heading back to the cabins.

Y/N stayed with Harry that night and into the early morning of the next day. She woke up tangled in his bedsheets alone but had no need to worry seeing as she could hear him humming along to a tune from the shower in the washroom nearby. A loud yawn left her mouth as she stretched and squinted at the bright sunlight streaming in through the windows and finally took in her surroundings.

Harry’s cabin was smaller than Y/N’s but was much more spacious because it was only him and Nick that stayed there. And luckily for Y/N, Nick was nowhere to be found. She did, however, have this nagging thought of how he could literally burst through the door and see her so obviously trying to keep her naked body covered beneath the sheets at any given moment. There was not a single part of her that wanted to deal with that, so she sat up in the bed and looked out the window for any sign of him coming before booking it into the washroom so that she could join Harry in the shower.

The two of them spent the entire day together. It was ridiculously convenient that Nick, Aimee, Dana, and Maya all had work today because they were able to postpone any of their friends bugging them. Seeing as Y/N only had the outfit she wore last night, she gave Harry her key so that he could run over to her empty cabin and grab some fresh clothes. Much to her dismay, he came back with only a pair of terrycloth shorts that belonged to Maya and some clean underwear (but no bra).

“Harry, do you expect me to walk around topless all day?” Y/N asked and quirked an eyebrow at him. It was evident that he didn’t intentionally forget to grab her a top by the way his eyes widened slightly at her question, but with Harry being Harry, he played it off with ease.

“Well, I wouldn’t exactly be opposed to the idea…”

“Harry.”

“Kidding,” he groaned as he rolled off the bed again and made way to his dresser so that he could give her a shirt to wear. “But not really. Here.”

Y/N caught the shirt Harry tossed towards her with ease and quickly threw it on, knowing she’d gone without a top for long enough. After that, Harry climbed onto the bed again and stretched himself across the bed next to her. He was hesitant in doing so, but after getting stiff from leaning on his elbow for a few minutes, he laid down flat with his head resting softly on Y/N’s lap as she stayed sat up and leaned against the wall.

The two of them talked for hours on end, again. Not once getting bored of each other's company and loving hearing what they each had to say, Y/N started to think about how long it had been since she was this comfortable with someone. They talked about everything from their favorite foods, to their what genre of a story they liked best after Y/N had eyed up the stack of books that were on Harry’s bedside table. Harry started going off, and Y/N mindlessly pushed her hand through his curls as he reached over to grab one of them so that he could tell her some of his favorite lines in it.

As the late afternoon crept around, Harry proposed that they actually leave the cabin and go out to do something, to which Y/N agreed. So, they gathered up the laundry hamper they had tossed Harry’s dirty bedding into that morning and made way to the clubhouse to start washing them while they went off and did something else. As they made way to the laundry room, they had to come to a stop when someone started calling out after them. Sure enough, it was Aimee standing behind them with a bemused and knowing look. She didn’t give them a hard time though seeing as she was just finishing her break and needed to get back to work, but Y/N knew she would get an earful when she got home that night.

Once they loaded up one of the washing machines and convinced one of the older ladies working in the laundry room, folding up clean bedsheets for the guests, to put move their wash over to a dryer so that they wouldn’t have to come back as soon; they embarked on a little journey. After sending a quick text to Maya a quick text to make sure it was alright, Y/N led Harry to one of the many golf carts that weren’t being used to take on their own little excursion.

They drove around the resort’s perimeter, taking the whole place in as if they were the ones staying there rather than being employees. After they finished doing that, Y/N drove them back to the clubhouse and tried thinking of something else to do before Harry suggested they go on the hiking trails the resort had.

The two of them walked back down the path that led towards the cabins and took a different turn that led them down a winding trail and eventually to the base of a large hill. Other people were nearby putting the multiple trail options to good use, but Harry and Y/N couldn’t decide which one they wanted to go on. They settled on the longest trail, the one that took them up the hill to a supposed lookout spot that was there.

It took them roughly forty-five minutes to reach the top, mainly because Harry kept dramatically pausing, saying he needed a break although Y/N was totally aware of it being a facade so that she’d stay near him and not keep going too far ahead... but she didn’t mind as they continued going. 

Once they reached the end of the path, Y/N didn’t know what she was expecting to see, but she definitely wasn’t prepared to have her breath taken away

The top of the hill was a large clearing with the most incredible view. There was no one else up there so she didn’t waste any time walking around the entire area so she could take it all in. When she looked down the hill to the east, she had an incredible aerial view of the whole resort. The massive golf course seemed to go on forever, disappearing in the distance behind some trees and smaller hills, and everything else seemed so much smaller. She could see the entirety of the clubhouse letting her eyes move to the pool and then over to the trails behind it as well as all the big fancy lodges the resort guests rented out during their stay. Her gaze fell on the row of cabins, watching as her co-workers walked home after their shifts had come to an end; even seeing who she thought was Dana trudging her way up the steps of their shared cabin, and Nick making his way towards his and Harry’s.

Y/N then moved to look to the west, and that was when her jaw dropped open in awe. In the distance, she could see the coastline. Where the greenery from the trees ended, the deep blue of the Pacific Ocean started and seemed to go on forever; causing her to become quickly enraptured by its beauty. So this was why Oceanside was a fitting name.

“S’pretty, innit?” Harry’s voice asked from behind her. When she didn’t respond, he moved towards her so that they were standing side by side. It wasn’t his first time seeing the view, which Y/N knew, but what she didn’t realize was how with the way the sun was just beginning to set, everything stood out. The pink and purple sky surrounding them and the way the breeze wisped her hair around made it seem as though she was the center of the most beautiful painting. Harry couldn’t take his eyes off of her, not that he’d want to anyway, and wanted to this exact image engraved into his memory forever. “Y/N?”

“Hmm?” She asked and glanced over at him briefly before looking back to the ocean. “The view? Yes, it’s incredible.”

“Not just the view,” Harry whispered to himself as he watched her. Silence fell over them for a few minutes after that, and neither made a move to change that. However, as the sun kept getting lower in the sky, Harry knew that this moment couldn’t last forever. “Think we should head back down there, it’s going to be dark soon.”

“Oh, yeah, not a bad idea. The laundry is probably done by now too.”

It didn’t take them as long to get down the hill as it was going up, so soon enough they were back at the clubhouse gathering Harry’s bedding and heading back to the cabins to call it a night. 

On their way there, they heard laughter and chatter coming from people walking down a different path. Neither Harry or Y/N thought anything of it as they started down the trail towards the cabins until someone was calling after Y/N.

“Hey Y/N, wait up!”

Slowly, both Y/N and Harry turned around to see Tyler Huntington approaching them with one of his friends.

“Hi Tyler, how’s it going?” Y/N greeted as Harry remained silent; not noticing the way he glared at the other boy.

“Good,” Tyler responded. “Just finished up a round of golf. Didn’t see you at the pool today.”

“Yeah, Harry and I have this weekend off so you won’t see me around there tomorrow either.”

“I see,” he replied and moved his gaze to Harry, sending him somewhat of a dirty look. “Styles. Well anyways Y/N, seeing as you have the day off tomorrow, Chris here’s parents went to San Francisco for the weekend, so a bunch of us are going to party in his family’s lodge. You should come.”

His invitation surprised her a little bit because frankly not once had she given the impression that she wanted to hang out with Tyler or his obnoxious friends apart from being around them during her shift. There was a fine line between employee and guest’s relationships being professional, and she did not want to cross it, so she politely turned him down.

“Thank you for the offer, but no thanks. I’m actually so exhausted and am ready to call it a night.”

“I see,” Tyler responded disappointedly. “Maybe another time then?”

“Maybe,” Y/N responded with a small nod and looked up to Harry. “Well, I guess we’ll be going then, have a good night guys.”

“Night,” Tyler and Chris responded in unison.

Y/N and Harry turned and started walking towards the cabin’s again, and Tyler watched with gritted teeth as Harry wrapped an arm around Y/N’s waist and pulled her close. Feeling the jealousy within him reach an all-time high as she leaned into Harry’s touch as they continued walking and eventually disappeared out of sight.

The next couple of weeks or so went on like usual. Y/N and Harry spent most of it together at work as usual but also spent a lot of evenings together as well. While at work together, the two of them would go on as they usually would -- teasing each other and making snarky comments, but this time around, there was a lot more subtle flirting. They always kept it professional around guests, but when they had any time that was just the two of them, they were all over each other.

One evening, after Y/N and Harry finished their shift together, they helped the kitchen staff set up tables in the dining room for a fancy gala dinner that was being put on for the resort guests. They stuck out like sore thumbs working alongside the servers who were dressed in their fancy uniforms in preparation for the dinner, to which their co-workers teased them about, but expressed appreciation for the help nonetheless.

Once they were done helping wherever they could, Dana told them her, and the rest of the team should be alright and that Y/N and Harry should get out of there before the guests started showing up. As they were headed towards the lobby, Harry snuck up behind Y/N and covered his hand over her mouth so that no one would hear her. A muffled yelp left her mouth as Harry pulled her behind one of the large planters and pillar so that he could gently push her up against the wall; a seductive grin tugging at his lips as he did so.

“Been waiting to have you to myself all day,” Harry said as he moved his hand from her mouth and replaced it with his lips. Y/N moaned against his mouth and responded by pulling him even closer than he already was so that the kiss would deepen. They stood there making out for at least a solid two minutes before footsteps and voices could be heard coming towards them.

Y/N and Harry quickly broke away from each other and tried to straighten out their appearances before stepping out from behind the pillar, coming face to face with the Huntington family. Both Mr. and Mrs. Huntington greeted the pair happily while Tyler stayed quiet; silently fuming as he took in Y/N’s swollen lips and Harry’s disheveled curls.

“Aren’t you kids done for the day? Get out of here already,” Mr. Huntington teased as he patted Harry on the back.

“We are,” Harry told him. “Just thought we’d help with setting everything up for you guys. It looks great in there, I’m sure you’ll have lots of fun.”

“Anyways we should get going,” Y/N spoke up with a smile and looked to each member of the family, pausing when she locked eye contact with Mrs. Huntington. “They’ve got your favorite wine in there Carol, it should be a good night.”

“Oh, wonderful!” The older woman exclaimed and clapped her hands together, earning a groan from her husband. “You two have a good night as well, don’t get into too much trouble.”

“We won’t,” Y/N and Harry answered together before nodding goodbye and walking away from them. Both Mr. and Mrs. Huntington smiled and watched them go for a second before continuing on down the hallway, but Tyler stood there watching, no glaring at the two of them until they disappeared around the corner.

A few days later, when Y/N was in Harry’s cabin watching a movie with him and Nick, her phone buzzed with a new notification. She reached over to grab her phone, Harry shifting so that she’d have easier access to his bedside table, but not moving his arm from where it was wrapped lazily around her waist. As soon as she had the device, Y/N returned to her spot, nestled up against Harry and turned the screen on only to see she had an email from Mr. Slack. Assuming it was necessary, she unlocked her phone and opened the email; her eyebrows furrowing as she read through it.

“Everything alright?” Harry asked after a moment of seeing her just stare at the phone screen.

“Yeah, I guess,” she started. “It’s just that Mr. Slack changed my work schedule completely.”

“For next week?” Nick questioned and sat up, curiously from his bed across the room.

“No… for the rest of the summer.”

This caught Harry’s attention as his eyebrows furrowed in confusion as well. “Mind if I see?”

“Not at all,” Y/N responded and handed him the phone.

Harry took the device and scrolled through the entire email, noting the changes in her schedule. “Our shifts are completely opposite now.”

“Really? All of them?”

“Yeah, all of them,” he replied and handed the phone back. “We don’t have any more days off together.”

“So they’re splitting us up and pairing us with different lifeguards for the next three weeks?” Y/N questioned, and Harry nodded. “Why now all of a sudden?”

“Whack caught on to you two messing around with each other, huh?” Nick asked and wriggled his eyebrows.

“I don’t think it was him actually,” Harry shrugged in response. “Think it was the Huntington kid.”

“Tyler?” Y/N asked and leaned onto her elbow so she could get a better look at Harry as he nodded. “What makes you think that?”

“Oh come on, you can’t tell me you haven’t noticed how pissed he gets whenever he sees us together. He’s jealous Y/N. Probably pulled some strings with management so that he could attempt to move in on you before the end of summer.”

His tone became rather hostile, and Y/N quickly decided that she did not like it one bit and started moving away from him. “I have noticed actually, but it’s wrong to assume someone could be so malicious. We can’t prove that he actually did do that, maybe Slack just wanted to switch up the lifeguard rotation.”

“Three weeks before the summer ends? Y/N, do you hear yourself right now? All the hints and clues of Tyler wanting to mess with us are right in front of you, but you’re too damn gullible and naive to open your eyes and see!”

Harry’s outburst surprised Y/N, and she made no effort to hide it. “That was uncalled for, Harry.”

“But true,” he finished and looked away, not noticing the hurt that flashed through her eyes.

The next thing Y/N knew, she was scrambling to get out of Harry’s grasp to get as far away from him as she possibly could. “You know what? I’m just gonna go.”

“What, no, Y/N, I didn’t mean that rudely,” Harry pleaded as he stood up too, realizing that he’d really upset her.

“How did you mean to say that I’m too gullible and naive for my own good in a nice way, Harry?” She snapped and brought her hand up to her chest when she saw him reaching out for it. “I’m sorry that I tend to see the good in people and not make rash assumptions about them just because I feel like it! You know, I thought you weren’t one to do that too actually, but I guess I was wrong.”

Harry couldn’t find it in himself to say anything else because just seeing how much his words had hurt her, crippled him. During one of their many talks, she told him how growing up she was told that her niceness would get her in trouble one day, that she was too accepting of everyone and it really rubbed her the wrong way. Y/N viewed her kindness towards others as a weakness because of that, and although it was one of her traits that Harry admired most, he still managed to make her feel bad about it. To make her feel weak.

Y/N gave him a second to respond, and although she was greatly disappointed when he didn’t, she just swallowed her pride and walked towards the door. Muttering a quick goodbye to Nick, she swung the screen door open and walked out, letting it slam shut as she rushed down the stairs and over to her cabin before the tears started streaming down her face.

There was an invisible weight resting on Harry’s chest as he watched her go, feeling absolutely terrible as Nick walked up beside him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “You just royally fucked up my friend.”

A week went by, but Y/N and Harry had yet to speak to one another. She was upset, which he knew, but fucked, he missed her. He just wanted the chance to apologize, but even then, that opportunity never came because they never actually saw each other. The only time he’d get to see her was in passing when one of their shifts came to an end, and the other was there to take over.

On the nights he knew he didn’t work the next day, Harry would stay up late reading on his front porch, coming to a stop only when he’d hear someone dragging their feet on the gravel and watched as they trudged their way past his cabin on route to their own. One of those nights, over a week since he and Y/N, had last spoken outside of work, he heard two sets of footsteps walking down the path, so he set the book down to see if it was anyone he knew. As soon as he looked up, her gaze fell onto Y/N, but she wasn’t alone.

She had just finished the night shift at the pool and was yawning and rubbing at her eyes as she nodded to what Tyler was going on about besides her, clearly uninterested. When Y/N and Tyler reached the space between her and Harry’s cabins, she looked at Harry tiredly and sent him the smallest smile. Y/N then turned to Tyler and thanked him for walking her home and turned him down again for hanging out before saying goodbye and going up to her cabin stairs. Just as she reached the door, she paused and looked over to Harry, nodding towards him. “Night, Harry.”

And with that, she was gone.

The days after that, Harry observed how Tyler followed Y/N around like a lost puppy and started to become annoyed because he’d still not gotten the chance to apologize. One night, as they were going into the last week and a half of summer, Harry decided he was done sulking and knew that he needed to talk to Y/N because he’d gotten to the point where he just felt empty without her.

He first went over to her cabin to see if she was there. Knocking on the door, he felt his heart rate increase with each passing second until the door swung open to reveal Aimee.

“Get off my porch,” she spat. Harry took a deep breath, feeling even more nervous than before because if looks could kill, he’d be dead by now.

“I-is Y/N home?” He stammered and shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

She continued glaring at him, exhaling deeply through her nose to express just how much him being there made her fume. “You’re right fucked if you think I’m letting you talk to her after what you did.”

“Aimee I-.”

“You messed up Harry, massively.” Aimee finished for him. “Do you know how hard it is for that girl to open up? To feel such a significant bond with someone that she can genuinely be herself without fear of being judged for it. You somehow managed to crack through that wall. She let you in, and you threw it in her face. So, like I said before, get the fuck off my porch.”

“I know I messed up ok?” Harry argued before she could slam the door shut, his voice cracking slightly. “I know that I gained her trust, became someone she was comfortable with, and then fucked everything up. I know you think I’m a terrible human being because of what I said, and honestly, I can agree with you. What I said was uncalled for and completely unnecessary, and I know that I’d take it all back if I could. I was jealous, fuck, I was jealous of Tyler Huntington because he kept moving in on her and to be honest, I was afraid. Not because she ever seemed interested, but because I knew that he could give her the world if she let him and that I can’t. I’m a lifeguard for fuck's sake, not the son of some rich businessman. I don’t know where I’m going from here, or what LA will hold, but I’d really like for her to be there for it, and I hate myself for possibly messing that up.”

Once his rant came to an end, and he finally decided to look up again, he half expected for Aimee to just proceed with slamming the door in his face but was actually surprised to see that he’d gained an audience. Both Dana and Maya were now standing behind Aimee shaking their heads.

“God, boys, they really are stupid,” Maya groaned.

“Y/N doesn’t care about any of that you dingus,” Dana stated.

“Honestly though,” Aimee agreed, her features softening. “Glad you can see how good of thing you almost lost there, Harry, because as much as I want to say you don’t deserve to even associate with my best friend… You’re an alright dude. She’s on the night shift at the pool, you may be able to catch her before she finishes up and comes home for the night. Just don’t mess it up again.”

“I won’t, thank you,” Harry replied as he turned around and bolted down the stairs and started off in the direction of the pool. He checked the time on his phone and sped up a little more as he knew Y/N would be getting ready to leave soon.

Y/N finished gathering the last of the pool towels left by guests and put them in the hamper for housekeeping to deal with tomorrow. She hated the night shift. Although the pool closed at 10pm, she was alone from 8pm on, but the pool was always dead by then and the time would just drag. She knew her shift was almost over, so she wandered back to the lifeguard stand and grabbed her belongings so she could go punch out.

Before she could get too far though, the pool gate creaked open, and someone walked in. She turned around to tell the person that the pool had closed, but stopped herself when she saw Tyler standing there. “Oh, hey.”

“Hey,” he responded and walked towards her. “Was wondering if you wanted some company for the walk home again.”

“Thanks, that’s really sweet of you, but I’m meeting up with Nick so I’ll be fine,” she told him honestly.

“I see,” he replied and looked down to his feet. “Well, I know that you have the day off tomorrow. Maybe I want to do something… with me?”

Y/N could tell he was a little nervous asking her this, but there was something he said that she was not expecting to hear. “How did you know I had tomorrow off?”

“I uh, you told me, remember?” Tyler stammered, internally cursing himself.

“No, I didn’t,” Y/N trailed off. “So how did you actually know?”

“Ok, you caught me,” he tried to play it off. “I asked Mr. Slack to tell me because I really wanted to ask you out, seeing as you turned me down all summer.”

“I turned you down because I’m not interested, Tyler.”

As the conversation started going down, Harry was nearing the pool gate. He heard what Y/N had just said, but stopped so that he wouldn’t interfere.

Y/N watched Tyler, watched as his eyes snapped to hers once the words left her mouth, and saw them darken. Y/N held her ground, though. She didn’t falter or let him intimidate her regardless of how part of her wanted too because deep down, she already knew this was going to tie into what she and Harry had fought about.

“See that’s the thing I don’t get,” Tyler started, chuckling slightly. “Why wouldn’t you be interested? I’ve got money, looks, charm-.”

“Well, I wouldn’t go that far,” she cut him off, and Harry had to cover his mouth so that he didn’t laugh out loud.

“Right. Not like you’d notice it anyways with how busy you’ve been off fucking Styles every chance you got. Quite the slut move, Y/N.”

Harry was ready to throw hands at that point and was about to start going off, but Y/N beat him to it.

“You do not get to say that about me, or anyone for that matter,” she fumed. “And frankly, it is not your concern, or anyone else’s who I sleep with, so I’ll sum this up real quick. I like Harry, he is a kind and decent being, something you wouldn’t know, and is someone I will gladly admit to falling for and will continue falling for because he is actually worth my time.”

“Whatever-.”

“Oh, I’m not done yet. Harry is someone who holds more character in his pinky finger than you do in your entire body, and is also someone who would never, in a million years, pay money to try and interfere with someone’s life.” Tyler fell silent at that. “I know you paid Slack to change my work schedule around.”

“I, well, I-.”

“You aren’t worth it,” she finished and had no intention of speaking another word to him. Tyler stood there shocked as she brushed past him and started walking towards the gate.

“I can have you fired, you know?” He finally spoke up, noticing that Harry was standing nearby. “Both of you.”

“No, you can’t,” Y/N laughed, sending a quick glance to Harry before turning back around. “Slack already told me he wants both me and Harry to come back next summer with a pay raise. I think he was saying something about how he didn’t want to get rid of the guest's two favorite lifeguards, including your parents. So maybe I’ll see you next summer, Tyler, but for now, fuck you.”

The man was left speechless and couldn’t find any other words to say as he watched her walk out the gate and towards Harry.

Once the gate shut behind her, Y/N turned to face Harry and tried so hard to not just lunge herself towards him. “Did you hear that?”

“I did,” Harry said, and Y/N started stepping towards him.

“All of it?”

“Yes, all of it.”

“Ok, good,” she answered just as she reached him and wrapped her arms around his neck to pull him in so she could crush her lips against his. The kiss was sweet but turned hungry as each of them realized how much they’d been craving to be near one another again. However, it didn’t last long until Y/N was pulling away to look back up at Harry. “I missed you, H.”

“God, and I missed you,” he replied, softly pecking her lips once again. “And I am so so sorry, Y/N. I’m sorry for being such a prick, and I don’t expect you to forgive me any time soon, but-.”

“I already have,” Y/N told him and moved to wrap her arms around his waist in a hug. “Besides, Nick told me how sulky you were because I wasn’t talking to you.”

“Of course he did,” Harry groaned and pulled away from the hug. He leaned down to kiss her once again before leaning his forehead against hers. “Let’s go home.”

Y/N’s last week at Oceanside was spent packing, working her final shifts, and saying goodbye to all the friends she had made throughout the summer. On her last day there, she gave her cabin one final look over to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything and let out a sad sigh. Dana and Maya had left the day before, so it was just her in Aimee left. Once she was sure she had everything, she went outside to where Aimee and Nick were waiting, and the three of them started walking towards the clubhouse.

“You know you’re both going to have to Facetime me at least once a week, right?” Nick asked as they walked around to where the different buses were waiting to drive them home.

“I’d expect nothing less,” Y/N answered and let out a heavy breath once they reached their destination.

The three of them pulled each other into a group hug and muttered their teary goodbye’s. Eventually, Nick had to pull away so that he could board his bus and made sure to wave like crazy as it began pulling away.

“I can’t believe you’re going to LA already, I feel like I just got you back,” Aimee started as she loaded her luggage onto the bottom of the bus.

“I know,” Y/N told her as she helped with the large suitcase. “The summer flew by. Sorry that I'm sending you on the bus back to San Jose alone.”

“I’ll be fine, you’ll just have to make it up to me with drinks when I come to visit. Which will be very soon might I add.”

They both chuckled before slowly frowning, tears stinging at their eyes. In a split second, they were engulfing each other into a tight hug and trying not to cry.

“I’m going to miss you so much, Aims.”

“I’m going to miss you more,” Aimee replied and pulled away to wipe at the tears streaming down her face. “I’m so proud of you Y/N. You’re going out there and doing whatever it is you want to do, and I got to see you grow as a person so much this summer. God, I feel like a proud mom.”

“It’s because of you, you know,” Y/N responded as she reached up to wipe away some of her friend's tears. “If it weren’t for you sassing me, I would have been a hermit all summer. You gave me that extra push I didn’t know I needed.”

“Well, in that case, then I’m happy that I did.”

Y/N pulled her best friend in for another hug, staying like that until the bus driver called out for final boarding. “I guess that’s your cue to leave.”

“I guess it is,” Aimee sniffled as she moved from Y/N’s embrace and started walking to the bus. “You better call me the minute you get to LA.”

“You know I will,” Y/N answered with a smile.

Once Aimee was sat on the bus, the doors closed and she waved at Y/N as it drove away. Y/N didn’t leave her spot nor stop waving until the bus disappeared over the hill, and she let out another sigh. She then turned around and was met by her special someone standing there looking back at her with his goofy grin.

“Ready?” Harry asked as he lifted his right arm so that he could rest it on Y/N’s shoulders as they walked towards his car, waiting in the parking lot.

“More than ready,” Y/N answered before moving away from him so that she could climb into the passenger side; her luggage already packed in the trunk thanks to Harry going out of his way to put it there as she said goodbye to Aimee.

“Perfect.”

With one final glance around at the resort that had been their home for the last two and a half months, Y/N and Harry began their long drive to Los Angeles and their future, together.

[golfgear-blog1]

Introduction to the Game of Golf

In the event that you have never set your foot on to a Golf ground (better alluded as a Golf Course) and have regularly watched golf players play inside the premises of delightfully finished rich green zones, or have watched the game on TV, you should be interested to recognize what this game is played with metal sticks and a little estimated ball, about.

In this article, I will give you a learner level prologue to the sport of Golf.

Golf is a game that is played with one ball and a lot of metal sticks (called Clubs) that look to some degree like a bizarre adaptation of hockey sticks. Every player plays with his own ball and his own arrangement of clubs (typically 14 in number). The whole game is played in a genuinely huge estimated ground that has no specific shape and is spread over a zone as extensive as 100-200 sections of land. All in all, for what reason do they need such a gigantic ground to play this game when most other open air games (where you hit the ball with a stick/bat –, for example, cricket, baseball, hockey or even games where you hit the ball with your hand/foot, for example, b-ball, soccer, and so on.) are played in a lot littler fields? Additionally, while most open air ball games are played between two groups, Golf is an individual game and every individual plays against his/her own qualities or shortcomings, alluded as a debilitation.

A Golf course involves a lot of 18 Holes. Each opening is basically a free playing ground zone where you start your first shot on your ball from an assigned beginning stage which is a raised grass stage (known as the Tee-off point) and finish at the opposite end by placing the ball into a gap made on another raised (typically) grass stage (alluded as the Green). To reach through and through, on each gap, you may need to make 3-5 shots or all the more relying on how fortunate or unfortunate player you are. The entire thought is to placed the ball in each opening in least number of shots. The zone in the middle of the jump start point and the green is alluded as the Fairway. The fairway could have a width of 40-100 yards, however there is no immovable standard on its width. The entire thought for a player is to make his shots genuinely straight with the goal that his ball consistently arrives on the fairway during the mid-course while coming to from jump start to the green. On and outside the edges of the fairway there would be different sorts of checks to raise the level of trouble, for example, unpleasant patches, dugouts, water bodies, brambles, trees, channels, water streams, and so on some of which are alluded as dangers. Along these lines, while playing, it presents enough test for the golf player to hit the ball guaranteeing that it doesn't land onto such perils or troublesome patches from where taking the ball forward may get troublesome. The genuine test in this game is that, before hitting the ball you need to figure out where your ball should land and guarantee that it lands there. Precision of separation and straightness of way are the two keys to being a fruitful golfer.The separation between the jump start point and the green could commonly shift from 150 yards to 550 yards (these are not holy figures). Contingent on the separation and the level of trouble experienced in arriving at the ball from the jump start highlight the opening on the green, each gap will have a predefined no. of shots that would in a perfect world be accomplished by a decent golf player (alluded as a Scratch Golfer). The predefined number of shots is alluded as a Par. For instance, if a gap is assignment as a Par 5, it implies that in the event that you are a decent golf player you ought to in a perfect world have the option to place your ball in the opening in 5 shots.

A full measured fairway comprises of 18 holes. A series of golf expects you to play each of the 18 holes. With each gap fluctuating long from 150 yards to 550 yards, while playing one complete round of 18 holes you wind up strolling around 5-6 km. No big surprise numerous senior individuals like to play Golf as it furnishes gaming diversion with great measure of activity.

A commonplace 9-gap Golf Course may have a format to some degree like appeared in figure underneath. At the Tee-off point, viz. the beginning stage of each opening, you are permitted to put the ball raised on a plastic/wooden tee molded peg which you convey with yourself and which is embedded in the ground to hold up. In this way, you get the upside of hitting your best initially shot on each gap. In any case, ensuing shots are to be played from any place the ball lands, without moving its position. On the teeing ground, a couple of markers is introduced to show the beginning line. You can start your first shot from anyplace inside a nonexistent square shape framed by the width of the markers and a profundity recognized by two club-lengths. For women and seniors the jump start line/square shape is typically ahead, to give them a little bit of leeway, taking into account that women and seniors by and large have lesser solid force than the men. A decent fairway would likewise have a different jump start point for proficient golf players giving them more noteworthy hindrance than the easygoing/novice players. A few courses may have separate jump start stages for every trouble type. Others may have all on a solitary stage. In either case, the markers are shading coded to show which fanciful square shape is for which level of golf player.

The fairway is the pathway between the Tee-off point and the Green. It means the perfect course to be followed when playing each opening. Fairways are all around kept up with short cut grass, making it moderately simpler for a golf player to play his shots. The territories outside the edges of the fairway (known as the unpleasant) are negligibly kept up and if your ball lands there it makes it hard for you to play a decent shot. The green is where each opening ends. On the green there is a gap (fixed with a plastic cup) in which you need to inevitably drop your ball. A banner put in this gap assists golf player with finding the green from far away separation.

The openings on a green are numbered 1 through 18, and that is the request where they are played. The standard for a fairway is the quantity of strokes a specialist/scratch golf player is required to make to finish one full round of 18 holes. Normally greens are intended for a standard incentive between 69 - 74, the most well-known being standard 70, standard 71 and standard 72. An easygoing golf player would regularly finish playing the whole course in 90-120 strokes. The additional number of strokes that you require on a normal characterizes your debilitation.

So much for this first article. I trust this article would have helped give you a rudimentary point of view of what the sport of Golf is. In ensuing articles I will develop various parts of the game and dive into it in more 

For more information click here

[likethetailofacomet]

The End is Here: Ch. 2- Remnants of a Life

AN ENDLESS SUMMER ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE AU

This all started when @zaffrenotes sent me a prompt asking how Jake and Kara would meet in a zombie apocalypse au. So, thanks, D! Because now i’m obsessed with sweaty, bloody, dirty end of the world Jake and Kara. Ah, true love. 

Warning: there will be violence, blood, death and adult relations in this series. 

tunes: for estela and quinn- Panoramic Girl - Young The Giant 

Acetate my heart Bleach it then restart You are the only Image in my mind Memorize the lines And trace them slowly

Photographic soul Stitch together pieces of a life I'll never know Panoramic girl You are just a memory that lives inside my dreams

(happy to include this for Jake and Estela day in @brightpinkpeppercorn and @mysteli ES APPRECIATION WEEK!) 

TAGGING: @sleepwalkingelite @brightpinkpeppercorn @ooo-barff-ooo @zaffrenotes @endlessly-searching-for-you @mind-reader1 @agent-bossypants @endlesstaylormckenzie @indiacater @endlesshero1122 @akrenich @mysteli @feartheendlesssummer @sophie-summer @beccasbadchoices @nekkidmolerat @cordoniantrash @choices-is-life @choiceslife @simmerbychoices @blackcatkita this will be an ongoing series, so let me know if you’d like to join the fray! 

Craig and Diego stood with their backs to Zahra as she knelt down before the lock. Pulling a well used bobby pin from an inside pocket of her jacket, she went to work on the lock as the two men kept their eyes open. Her fingers moved swiftly despite the chilly temperature- lock picking had been her hobby since her father taught it to her when she was six. “A puzzle for my little genius,” he would say, presenting her with a padlock and a thin strip of metal. She'd eagerly take it to sit in the corner, sticking her tongue out of the side of her mouth, working until the satisfying click of the lock would pop open and her father would applaud and she would beam. He'd always said it would come in handy one day. Breaking into these apartments in search of supplies and medicine that could save their friend's life seemed like a pretty handy time to be able to perform the task, and she was glad that she was able to do this for their group. She fiddled with the lock, listening for the sound she knew so well, turning, twisting the hair pin until, “We're in,” she rose to her feet and looked Craig in the eye.

“Nice job, Z,” he said, a tender look in his deep brown, nearly black eyes. He gently tucked a piece of her dark, asymmetrical hair behind her ear. The two of them seemed like an unlikely couple, but in truth they'd been completely sunk for each other since they met back in college, and thanks to a reunion that neither thought was necessary -“it's only been 4 years, I don't even miss anyone yet,” Zahra had protested- both had been dragged there by friends, and they'd reconnected. Their quickie wedding at the justice of the peace with as few people present as possible surprised no one that knew them. They had planned to go on an elaborate honeymoon trip visiting both of their families abroad, but then everything had gone to shit. Craig would sometimes joke that they were on their honeymoon right now, that it was a two player adventure game, but Zahra knew that what the big callused burly bear of a man was really saying, was “anywhere with you is special, anywhere with you is our honeymoon.” She had to agree.

Diego offered to stand guard outside, clutching this hammer tightly in his frozen fingers. Zahra and Craig nodded, Craig placing a hand on Diego's shoulder before following his wife inside. The first apartment that they tried was completely vacant- no furniture, no pictures on the walls or food in the cabinets. The next one yielded a crocheted blanket in pinks and purples- most likely belonging to a child- as well as a baseball bat and a can of baked beans that had rolled under a table. There were faded spots on the wall where frames used to hang, and it was clear that the family who lived here had taken their photographs with them, wherever they went. Zahra understood the sentiment, but the practicality of leaving what they left behind was lost on her. She handed the items to Craig who slipped them into his bag.

When they reached the third door they both froze, locking eyes. Sounds were coming from the other side of the wooden door; shuffling footsteps, uneven and slow, and rattling breaths. There were at least two of them in there. But there could also be things that they needed in there- things that Jake needed, that could save his life and possibly their own down the line. Craig moved in front of her and shouldered the door open, ready with the tire iron that he'd pulled off of that burned out firetruck a few months back, Zahra right behind him with her butterfly knife, swinging it open with a flick of her wrist. They were right in that at least two of the undead were behind that door. They were wrong in thinking it was only two.

Five sets of blank, unseeing eyes turned on them from various spots in the room, and they braced themselves, changing strategies in their heads. What used to be a middle aged woman lunged at Zahra from the right, decaying flesh hanging loosely from her thin arms, teeth bared through her stripped lips. Zahra ducked under the thing's outstretched limbs and twirled behind it, moving more quickly than her attacker, and plunged her knife into it's temple up the the handle. Craig took a step towards the next one, swinging his tire iron at his head, knocking it from the shoulders like a golf ball from a tee. The remaining three were closing in on them, two of them had once been children, and Zahra wondered what blankets or toys or other trappings of childhood they'd find that would break her husband's heart. She shook her head to clear those thoughts, not wanting to be distracted. She readied her knife as Craig prepared to dispatch the once elderly man that was raising its one good arm and dragging a limp leg behind it. They finished they job quickly before rushing to one another to check the other for bites and other wounds. Craig breathed the sigh of relief he always did when he realized that she was safe, and she let him ruffle her hair because it made them both feel better. They began to search the room for anything useful: some batteries from the remote, the base of a heavy lamp that would make a great bashing tool, a handful of cough drops that were in a side table drawer. They were about to move into the kitchen when they heard the door to the apartment open, and Diego's voice protesting. “Hey, hey, alright, listen let's talk, okay?”  

They dropped the items in their hands- an oven mitt, a cook book- and raced out to the living room to see their friend being held hostage by a tall, lean, muscular woman, her coffee colored hair pulled back in a high ponytail, a long scar running from the top of one eye brow, vertically through her eye to the top of her cheek. She held a short dagger to Diego's throat with one hand, and Diego's hammer in her other. “Talk,” she barked in a heavily accented voice. “Talk and tell me why I shouldn't kill you.”

Zahra blinked at the woman before dropping her knife and holding her hands up steadily. Craig followed suit, letting his tire iron clang to the floor. “Because we're alive,” Zahra said. “Because we aren't them.” she nodded to the dispatched zombies on the ground. “How's that for starters?”

“Just because you aren't the undead doesn't mean you can be trusted. What are you doing here? What do you want?” She snarled, tightening her grip on the knife until her knuckles went white.

“Just looking for supplies. Our friend is hurt,” normally Zahra would try to hide the fact that there were more of them, but something in this woman's eyes, though in full animalistic selof preservation mode, told her that she was reasonable. “We're just looking for things that could help him.” She had taken a few small steps toward the woman and Diego, and it didn't appear as though she'd noticed. “I'm Zahra, that's Craig,” she gestured slowly towards the man behind her. “And you've already met Diego, I see. Who are you?”

“Why should I tell you?” her voice faltered just a bit as it finally registered that Zahra had gotten so close- close enough that she was able to pull the arm around Diego's neck down, squeezing a pressure point on the woman's hand that made her drop the dagger. Craig flew forward and retrieved it and the woman cursed in Spanish.

“Tell us, or don't tell us,” Zahra shrugged. “But we need to search these apartments until we find what our friend needs, and you're not going to stop us. Diego stepped away from the woman, joining Craig behind Zahra.

The woman eyed them all for another moment, a battle behind her eyes over what to tell them, what to offer. She sighed and rolled her eyes. “Fine. I guess you're not here to kill me or rape me. I'm Estela. What does your friend need? I...I might be able to help.” something like sympathy passed over the woman's face, softening it significantly. It was clear she'd reverted to some kind of instinctual action when she'd captured Diego, a scared animal on the defensive with an intruder in her den.

“Antibiotics. Medicine. Food.” Zahra said plainly.

Estela nodded. “Follow me.” She led them outside and around the corner and pointed up at a balcony with a long rope dangling from it. “I busted the stairs with a sledge hammer on the inside. That's the only way up.” She grabbed on and nimbly pulled herself up the rope, barely even using her legs to climb. The others followed, Diego reaching the top last. Estela pulled the rope up behind him, letting it curl on the floor of the balcony. She knocked twice on the sliding glass door and they realized there must be someone else inside. Craig wrapped his hand around Zahra's, and Diego stayed behind Estela while a tall man with kind eyes and short, curly dark hair came to the door. He was holding a pistol down at his side, seeing that it was Estela, and he promptly opened the door. “Stel,” he questioned. “Everything good?”

“Yeah, Sean, found these idiotas downstairs in 7B- the one we trapped the things inside. They need help...they...they have a sick friend,” and again that flash of sympathy crossed her face, chaging the way she looked if only for a second. Zahra wondered who she'd lost to put that look into her hard, strong eyes.

Sean nodded and gave Estela a small, knowing smile and stepped aside. “Come on in,” he said to their guests as they entered the apartment. They made their introductions and explained their situation; what had happened to Jake, the trafficker that Kara had dispatched, Michelle's quick actions that saved Jake's life temporarily.

“You have a doctor?” Estela asked distantly, and Sean shifted his eyes to his friend. Zahra picked up on it and knew she was right- this woman had lost someone, and probably recently, and the fact that a doctor was here now, just days or weeks after she'd suffered whatever loss she'd suffered...well, it was clear she was wishing that the timing had been different. Craig and Diego continued to explain things to Sean. Zahra let her eyes wander around the apartment. This one looked well lived in, cozy. Blankets and pillows covered the couches, the shelves were full of books, and the walls here were still hung with picture frames; Some depicted Sean and what must have been his mother, or him with a group of friends, or him with two younger kids that looked just like him, siblings perhaps. Most of the photos though depicted Estela with a beautiful copper haired woman, small and ethereal looking, with big bright eyes. One photo showed the two in front of a waterfall, Estela's arms around the woman's neck, her lips pressing a kiss to her cheek as she laughed, another showed them in front of a Christmas tree, the shorter woman on her tip toes, dangling a bundle of mistletoe over their heads as they looked into each other's eyes. The one that caught Zahra's heart in her throat, though, was the one of the two of them in white dresses, the small, copper haired woman looking right into the camera with a brilliant smile, Estela looking at her wife with awe and love. Zahra didn't need to wonder anymore, she knew who Estela had lost.

Estela's eyes followed Zahra's to the picture from the wedding, and her dry, withered heart chipped and cracked as it called for Quinn but again went unanswered. She tried only to remember the good times with her beautiful wife, of which there were plenty. Quinn had softened all of Estela's edges, had shown her how to look for the good in everyone, how to trust people, how to care deeply. Estela closed her eyes and imagined that she was here now, her delicate fingers braiding Estela's hair or tracing her scars, her soft, bubblegum lips leaving hot trails down her neck. She swallowed the lump in her throat, remembering how silky her skin felt when it was pressed against her own, how gorgeous she looked when their bodies would twine, when Estela would bring her to the edge of pleasure causing her to throw her head back, mermaid locks tumbling over her shoulder, eyes hooded and mouth in a perfect little O. She remembered the rush of warmth she felt in her own body at the sounds Quinn would make, at the way her thighs felt in Estela's hands, at the way she tasted sweeter than honey. But mostly, Estela tried to remember her healthy and smiling, instead of weak and frail like she'd been in the end, once the hospitals shut down and she couldn't get her treatments anymore. Estela didn't like to talk about it much; Sean of course knew, as the three of them had formed an odd type of family, but something about Zahra's calm logic and level headedness made her trust her, and she thought maybe she might confide in her someday.

“And we have to save him,” Diego was saying. “My best friend Kara... she...she loves him...they...they need each other.”

Sean stood. “Well, lucky for you that Estela and I cased the whole complex and own every antibiotic, vitamin, pain relief and sleep aid that was left behind. We have some first aid supplies too, not a ton, but maybe something that could help. And,” he rose and crossed to a kitchen cabinet, opening it to display rows and rows of canned tuna, vegetables, beans and soup.

Craig, Diego and Zahra's eyes widened and they felt hope for the first time in days. Their last real meal had been yesterday morning when Zahra had been able to rig a trap for a couple of squirrels that Jake and Kara expertly skinned and cooked before the group had split up to do recon of the area around the apartment complex. Estela stood as well grabbing a bag from the counter and throwing some cans into it. She went into the bathroom and gathered a bottle each of antibiotic and ibuprofen, a roll of gauze, a sealed pair of forceps, four wrapped band aids and a tube of Neosporin. She came back into the living room where they were gathered and said, “Let's go, your friend needs this, right?” Without looking at anyone, she headed out to the balcony and threw the rope over the side.

Zahra looked at Sean. “How long ago was it?” she asked.

Sean looked back at her, a look of confusion not over why she asked what she asked, but how she knew. “Um...just...just about a month ago,” he said, eyes flicking to the wedding picture on the wall. “She was sick, from before...Rotterdam's disease, it's pretty rare...and she...” he sighed. “After the hospitals closed she started fading pretty fast. Estela was able to keep her going with whatever medication she could find...and love...she loved her so hard...but in the end...it just,” he sighed again. “Wasn't enough.” Craig and Diego looked at their shoes, not surprised that Zahra had picked up on the unspoken clues. She was as perceptive as she was hard to read.

Estela poked her head back in the room. “What's the hold up, let's go,” she called, and the cold air of the outside must have revitalized her because the bark was back in her tone.

Jake knew he was in a fever dream, because he was distantly aware of a dull pain in his abdomen, of Kara's hands in his hair and on his cheek, of the cold ground below him. But he was also standing in the lawn mower aisle of a well lit and bustling hardware store. 

Employees in bright aprons helped customers left and right, but he strode confidently towards what he needed, not having to ask for help. When he reached the spot where they kept the replacement blades, he was met with the largest pair of crystal blue eyes he'd ever seen, as the woman standing in front of the blades turned towards him. Her hair danced around her shoulders as she spun, wafting the smell of flowery shampoo his way. It hit him like an arrow to the heart and he smiled involuntarily at her.

“Hi there, princess, mind if I grab one of those packs a blades there?” he pointed past her but kept his eyes on hers.

“Sure thing,” she said, her voice like a wind chime, and she handed him one of the packs.

“You need any help, ma'am?” he asked her.

She shook her head and smirked. “No thanks, Top Gun,” she saluted him playfully. “Got it covered, I know what I'm lookin' for.”

“Impressive,” he mused. “Most people just scrap their mowers. They don' even know 'bout replacement blades.”

“Well I'm not most people,” she winked. “I'm Kara, by the way.”

“Jake,” he said. “Wanna get a drink?”

He felt himself smile through the dream as sweat dripped down his forehead. He often dreamed about what it would be like if they'd met before the world turned to shit, if they'd actually had been given a chance for something solid and normal and true. He loved her, that was certain, but he longed to be able to love her on a Saturday morning, lounging in bed. He longed to be able to love her at a holiday table full of friends and family. He longed to be able to love her as they rocked on a porch, old and gray and tired but happy. He longed for anything more than these remnants of what life used to be. But damn if he wasn't the happiest man on the planet for getting to love her at all, in any way, and for getting to be loved by her. He opened his eyes and looked up at her as she gazed down at him, and gave her a weak smile. “Hey, princess, how...how ya doin'?”

“Jake,” she whimpered, lowering her lips to his and pressing a trembling kiss there. “I'm so glad you're awake...I...” she sniffled, trying to keep the tears in her eyes this time. Michelle sat silently in the corner, staring at the door, waiting for their friends to come back. Her thin fingers were wrapped around her scissors, just in case.

The door opened and Craig and Zahra spilled inside, followed by Diego and their new acquaintances. Estela held the bag out in front of her as her eyes found Jake and Kara. She saw the man in his lovers arms and another crumbly piece of her heart turned to dust as she remembered holding Quinn in her last moments. She locked eyes with Kara and hoped beyond hope that she wouldn't have to go through what Estela went through every morning when she woke up and every evening when she went to sleep and every moment that she couldn't hold Quinn's hand. “We heard you needed help,” she said quietly as Michelle eagerly took the bag. Kara breathed a sigh of relief and Estela felt it in her soul.

Remnants of what used to be, that was what was left of the world. But not all of them were bad. The remnant of their love that had turned Estela into the caring, loyal, protective woman that she was today, that was one of the remnants that allowed for hope to root, deep in the cracks of the world, and deep in the cracked remains of Estela's heart.

Fix me in the wash Strip my colors off You are the vision Swimming in my sight Captured in the light A crystal prism 

Photographic soul Stitch together pieces of a life I'll never know Panoramic girl You are just a memory that lives inside my dreams

My panoramic girl

[horizontalgolfballcases]

How to Choose a Horizontal Golf Ball Case

The golf ball display case is a stylish way to organize and display your collection of golf balls. It can be mounted on a wall or placed on a flat surface. You can choose a case with multiple compartments or a smaller, more compact option for a limited collection. However, when deciding which one to purchase, consider how much space you have available, the style of the cabinet, and how many balls you will be storing. You can find more information about choosing a 横向きゴルフボールケース.

If you're looking for a golf ball display to put on your wall, you'll want to look at options that feature an attractive finish and are a good size. The most important thing is the amount of space you'll have for your balls. You'll also need to take into account the material that's being used. Some of the best cases are made of solid wood, while others are more open-style designs. You may also want to opt for a glass door with UV protection to keep your balls dust-free.

For example, the Chez Monett Hole In One Golf Ball Display Case is made of walnut wood composite and comes with a padded interior and a glass lid. Its 63-ball capacity can be expanded to a whopping 100 balls. Its UV light-protected acrylic cover is sturdy and won't fade or yellow over time. It's also customizable, with a plaque that can be added to the top or a custom engraving.

The Eureka Golf Case is another example of a multi-purpose case. Not only can it display golf balls, but it can also serve as a desktop piece. Its all-around acrylic cover blends in with the background of the desk, and it has a personalized inscription on the bottom. It can hold golf balls from 19 to 42. This makes it a great gift for someone who loves to play or collect golf balls.

If you're looking for something smaller, a wall cabinet holder is a good choice. It can be hung on the wall, and its sturdy wooden construction makes it an ideal choice for small spaces. This particular holder can hold up to twelve golf balls, and its solid beechwood design allows it to be mounted easily on a countertop. The holder is also a good option for displaying two display cases together.

The BCW Golf Ball Square is a little different than other cabinets in that it's not a traditional wall rack. It looks like a giant golf ball, with a green and flagstick on the top. Unlike the typical golf cabinet, it's easy to mount. It's also made of two-piece glass and requires a few screws to secure it.

A display case with a UV light-protected acrylic cover is the best choice for collectors. Its 4mm thick glass prevents dust and external damage from occurring, and it's easy to clean. Aside from protecting your golf balls, the acrylic cover is an interesting way to display shots, with the ball resting on a tee.

[bulkthreads]

Let's pique your interest with a new wholesale polo!

Take a pique into the world of fine polos

If you're a polo enthusiast--and let's be honest, who isn't these days?--you're bound to discover a few things.  First, searching the interwebs for "polos" may result in photos of a handsome man on a horse, or a dreamy man staring into a camera because, well, that's how you sell perfume these days, or even a series of handsome models swinging golf clubs or showing off nicely pleated pants and impeccable shirt-tucking skills.    

But if you're like us, you're not searching the world over for photos of handsome men and women; rather, you're scouring every digital nook and cranny for pocket tees, raglan shirts, Bella Canvas, and the cheapest wholesale t-shirts you can find.  You want blank hoodies and cheap tees and quality tank tops at wholesale prices because you have a bunch of marketing dollars to spend and many design logos to spend them on.  

And because many of our friends and clients want to look business casual, you've decided to purchase polos.  Fine polos.  Clean polos.  Wholesale polos with colors that pop, fabric that doesn't lose its shape, and prices that don't make you long for that dreamy man in the photoshopped photo to come sweeping by on his horse to whisk you away to a world without high prices (although, let's be honest, that would be pretty cool).

Polo shirts really do come from the sports world

Men's Polo, the K527

Ladies' Polo, the L512

Polos are connect to the "king of sports," as it's called, that game played by brave souls who ride on the back of a horse and swing wooden sticks at a ball.  But before these handsome, horseback-riding gentlemen adopted the polo shirt as their official jersey, polos, as they're called now, were invented by Renee Lacoste, a tennis player who wanted something more flexible and efficient than the jerseys tennis folk used to wear.  So Lacoste invented a polo shirt, a sporty, collared tennis shirt that he wore faithfully from the 1920s until he retired in 1933.  He then produced his uniquely knit creation for tennis players and tennis fans alike, and that led to polo players taking their turn at donning the cotton button-neck with the stiff collar that shielded their necks from the sunshine and the breathable material that flexed with their movements.  

Now, thanks to Lacoste and an industry that appeals to everyone from golfers to auto mechanics, the polo shirt has become synonymous with business casual and dads who want to look fashionable enough to wear a belt and tuck their shirt in, but leave the dinner jacket at home.  

Pique Knit

Interlock Knit

Jersey Knit

Polo Knits

Unlike weaves, knits combine fabrics by looping the fabric together.  As you can see above, polos typically use 3 different knits, or knit patters, each one offering different benefits that may serve to help you decide which polo to buy.

1.  Pique knits, or the pique stitch, is a double-stitch that knits the fibers into raised patterns, or ribbed patterns, often making diamond or honeycomb shapes, and providing manufacturers with a breathable and stretchable material.  Pique polos are among the most popular by far, and for good reason--you get fashion, durability, breathability, body, and flexibility all in one.  

2.  Interlock knit is a double knit fabric, a method of knitting that connects two different layers of stitching together.  Interlock knitting produces a thicker fabric that doesn't lose its shape as easily as other knits.  Because interlocking creates a thicker canvas, the interlock t-shirt or polo is also heavier and less flexible.

3.  Jersey knits are made from a single-sided, solitary knit (or loop, or stitch), which gives jersey fabric a loose, flexible feel.  A drapey feel. This knit used to be used exclusively for underwear, but famous designer Coco Chanel introduced the world to jersey outerwear in the early 1900s, and now you find all sorts of clothing utilizing the flexible, lightweight jersey knit--most notable, perhaps, are the lightweight, soft-spun t-shirts you love so much.  This knit is less breathable than pique, so you might consider flexibility vs. breathability when making your decision.  

So which polo do I choose?

Much of this decision is going to come down to your basic needs. Does cost matter most? Breathability?  Flexibility?  Style?  Button or no button? Pocket or no pocket? Soft collar or tailored collar? Slim fit or regular fit? Single-knit or double-knit? Taped shoulder seams? Colors?  Polyester or cotton?  Below are 6 different options, all chosen because they provide something different.  

Port Authority L572: 100% polyester, no buttons, jersey knit

Port Authority K548: 100% Polyester, diamond pattern, flat-knit collar

Port Authority L576: Johnny collar, 3-button placket, open-hem sleeves

Gildan 380: 100% cotton, Pique knit, $6.29 starting price

Jerzees 436MP: 50/50 blend, jersey knit, flexible

Port Authority K500LSP: Silk touch, long-sleeve, pocket, luxury polo

As you can see, there are quite a few options to consider, and if you search for wholesale polos in our website alone, you'll find all sorts of options, from dry materials to moisture wicking technologies, to basic polos to unique blends.  If you have questions, drop us a line.  We're more than happy to answer all your polo questions, and we'll do our best to find an option that fits your budget.  

Cheers,

The Bulkthreads Team https://bulkthreads.com/blogs/news/can-we-pique-your-interest-3f?_pos=1&_sid=c94cb3bbd&_ss=r

[littlegoa]

Pipe Smoking - How to Smoke a Pipe like Expert

Since I opened The Pipe Nook, I've had inquiries from many who don't yet smoke pipes, in regards to how to get into the hobby. While pipe smoking for me is the most enjoyable form of smoking, I have to admit that there is certainly a learning curve! I made many attempts along the way before I finally discovered the secrets to pipe smoking success. Below, you will find some basic tips to get you started on your pipe smoking journey.  If you're already a pipe smoker, this information is fantastic for sharing with friends.  Look for the link below to save the contents of this blog as a handy one-page reference!

Things you'll need

A pipe and some tobacco.

A tamping tool. A golf tee, Bolt, Pipe Nail, or any wooden or metal T-shaped object will do.

A soft-flame lighter or matches. Torch lighters get too hot and can damage your pipe.

Basic Steps

1. Pack your pipe to about 75% full, to allow space at the top for the lit tobacco to "bloom." Most people recommend a 3-Step packing method, but sometimes I only need to do this twice. Here are some guidelines:

Gently fill the bowl to the rim, then lightly pack it down until it's 50% full or less.

Fill to the rim again, and pack down a bit more firmly until it's 50% to 75% full.

If there's room, add a bit more tobacco, and press down just a tad more firmly. Don't go more than 80% full, or things may get messy when you light it.

2. Don't pack so tightly that a test puff feels like a milkshake, or so loosely that it feels like no resistance at all. You want it to feel like sipping water or soda through a straw.

3. For the First light, take sips (not gulps) and move the flame around until the top of the tobacco is evenly lit. It will most likely bloom up and go out quickly. This is known as the "false light."

4. Once out, tamp the tobacco gently and uniformly. This is the “cake” or burning surface that you'll use to get your true light.

5. Light a second time the same way as the first. You should be on your way, but it sometimes takes a third light to really get going.

6. Tamp gently along the way whenever the top gets looser. Once you've smoked for a while, the top will get moderately "fluffy" with ash; gently upturn your bowl and tap the loose ash in an ashtray. A coffee tin or any similar metal or wooden container will work.

7. Take gentle sips and enjoy the taste of the tobacco. Congratulations, you're smoking a pipe!

General Tips

If your tobacco is moist, leave it out to let it dry a bit. Moist tobacco causes too much hot vapor in the smoke, a large contributor to what is known as "tongue bite."

Don't fight to keep it lit! You'll only frustrate yourself and burn your tongue. If the smoke tastes too hot, let the pipe cool down for a bit. If it goes out, just tamp and relight. Take your time, be patient. Pipe smoking in India is about relieving stress and enjoying the moment.

Don't inhale! It's not a cigarette, and shouldn't be treated as though the point were to get a fix.

Learning a cadence that keeps the pipe lit better for you, yet doesn't make the smoke too hot to enjoy, is a knack only learned with time and experience. Your cadence won't be what another pipe smoker's cadence is, so don't compare. Just learn what works best for you!

If you don't like the first tobacco you've tried, don't give up: There are literally HUNDREDS of blends to choose from. I always recommend trying at least one of the following 5 blends before throwing in the towel: An Aromatic, a natural Virginia, a natural Burley, a Latakia Blend, and a Perique Blend.

That's it! Of course, pipe smoking is a nuanced and highly personal activity that you will get better at over time.  But these general tips are all you need to get you on your way!

[michiganandback]

Aug 15 – 19 AM

We left the Hancock RV Park mid-morning on the 15th and headed southeast. We made it to Marquette and spent the night at a really nice Campground. In the morning we drove over to the place called Pebble Beach to get some good stones from Lake Superior before we left. Marquette has the largest wooden domed building in the world. We drove by it as we left town and it's pretty impressive. Marquette also has a Wal-Mart and a Meijer grocery store, which has good bread. We spent a bit of time restocking the Larder before heading south to St. Ignace to spend the night. In the morning, we got a tee time I need a local golf course and played 9 holes of golf. It was a deceptively difficult course with tight, narrow fairways and fescue rough. It was also very bumpy because they didn't level out the fairways or the rough. We did okay for not having played for a year. I had six bogeys one double and two other scores. But it was a good day on the golf course. We then moved two miles south to another campground just in sight of the Mackinac Bridge. While driving to the golf course, the spring in the latch for refrigerator broke and the door flew open. Luckily nothing fell out and I was able to get it fixed temporarily until we can find a hardware store to buy new spring. We did and got to the campground just fine. As we were checking in, Patty the clerk said I put you as near to the bathroom as I could and oh by the way the best bathrooms are behind the laundry room. Not many people know about them and they are much nicer. She was right. They're just like a bathroom at home, not a bathroom in the barracks or in the old style dorms. After dinner, we went on a walkabout and saw a pickup with North Carolina tags on it. I yelled out go Heels and he said too bad. I said I really went to NC State he said I'm a Duke fan. I asked him where he was from in North Carolina and he said Morganton. That's where my sister lives and he knew the road she lives on. He didn’t say much more. Those mountain folks are like the odwest cowboys (so I’ve heard and seen depicted in the movies), answer a question and wait for the next one, don’t volunteer anything. I told him we grew up in the mountains he said from Crossnore. I had never had anyone know that town  in all my travels. I never thought to ask if he knew my sister. Turns out he was the water treatment plant manager and Elizabeth just groaned so she knew there was going to be a conversation about water and wastewater treatment plants. He said, well it's a good,  secure job because everybody has to drink water and everybody has to go to the bathroom. We found out he had been in the 82nd Airborne Division in 1973 and had 128 jumps, five of which were good. I never asked about the five and he never elaborated. They're on their way eventually to Mount Rushmore and I told him about the veteran ceremony at the night time event. I had to renegotiate our TV and Internet contract that expires this month and I got a very nice customer service rep from AT&T, Natalie. She did us a solid and we got $10 off from my current bill and tripled our internet speed. I told her we were in Michigan on a trip and she said I'm in Kalamazoo. We had a nice personal chat after that and she told us about something to do on our way to Boyne City. She also said real nice thing to do there is the Wildwood Rush, 7000 foot zip line down the mountain. We're looking forward to it. She also knew about the tunnel of trees, the Legs Inn which has the largest Bloody Mary in the world. We will do that today on the 18th of August as we work our way to Boyne City. We will spend one more night in the RV before moving into the rental house Sunday afternoon. Everyone is on time to meet us there late afternoon Sunday. The house is equipped with kayaks, fishing poles and other outdoor equipment. E and I are looking forward to kayaking down the Charlevoix River. In the morning we went across the road to talk to people from Morgantown on the off chance they knew my sister and brother-in-law. I asked Daryl if you knew someone named Dennis Keller and he said yes I do. He used to hunt bear with Dennis’ dad, Clyde in the mountains. He said my wife is coming around the corner there let's tell her about this. Turns out, Connie and my sister, Princess were in the same hospital room years ago when Connie had twin boys. They lived across the road from Princess’ and Dennis’ father and mother. Sometimes it's a really small world. We drove over to the Legs restaurant through the tunnel of trees along the bluff overlooking Lake Michigan. It was another nail-biter drive on a narrow road for 18 miles that took almost 40 minutes. We got there just after the restaurant opened and got a choice seat outside. All the waitresses are from Poland or the Ukraine. They are very helpful and pleasant. Our waitress was from Poland. I asked her her name, but we decided to call her Aga. She said she wanted to go back to Europe and visit Germany and could I recommend some places that are not so touristy. During the course of the meal I asked if she was interested in culture or sightseeing. I came up with about 14 places that I would go to if I went back there. Before it was all over, we exchanged emails, cell phones and invited her to visit us and Tulsa. She gave us her email address and the blog that she is creating on this visit to America. She wants to travel while she's young and I would say beautiful before she settles down and raises a family. When we decide to go to Poland she asked us to email her and she would give us some very interesting places to go out of the way of the normal tourist places. How lucky can you get? We had to scramble to find a campground for the night because this is a popular area. We did find one out of the way but in it but in a nice location. We are only 18 miles from the house that we rented for the reunion. We got a good spot as I said not far from the bathroom and pool. We had a nice quiet evening and there is a German couple from northern Germany cross the way from us. I spoke to him a little bit in the street, but we never made a commitment to get together later. He works as a physical therapist with stroke victims in Bremen Germany. We had a nice conversation in English and German. He thought my German very good even after I told him it was only Street German or neighborhood German that I had learned. I always feel good about that because I have tried to keep it up. About 1:30 this morning, some revelers woke Elizabeth up which in turn caused me to be up. We closed all the windows and finally got back to sleep. We slept until 8 a.m. and awoke to a gray overcast chilly morning, but it's supposed to warm up when we get back down from the “highlands” to the lake.

Pictures posted after this. This will be last post for a while, maybe.  Off to the reunion:)    

[jimmydemaret]

Franklin Sports MLB XT Youth Batting Tee Foam Set

Franklin Sports MLB XT Youth Batting Tee Foam Set

From Amazon Golf Tees Youth. Franklin Sports MLB XT Youth Batting Tee Foam Set.

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[golfiyas-us]

Can Golf Tees Help Your Golf Game?

Hi, my name is Mike Manzella occupier of Golfstuffcheaper.com. You testament poster on our website we have one of the largest choices of golfing tees in many styles and sizes even nude ma'am golf tees.. If a new exciting tee comes along we evidence be sure to pickax it up. When I started golfing dozens age ago (25 Years or So) there were basically 2 styles of golf tees the ideal wooden golf tees and plastic golf tees.

In recent years, lots new styles of golf tees have become available to help you punch the bliss further and straighter. There are even golf tees that lawsuit to cure your slice...Believe it or not can golf tees encouragement your game? In this items we testament discuss some of these golf tees what they have to relinquishment the criterion golfer.

The mass popular new change in golf tees is the Brush-T Golf Tee. Brush-T allows you to drive your area farther and more accurate without replacing your driver! The beds queue on brush tees is they cut down on friction. With a conventional golf tee when you blow the belt it pushing the sphere down into the tee before it income off causing friction. The brush tee golf tee eliminates that friction. The volume popular is the Brush-T though there are many styles of golf tees with brushes on them

The unique timber of the Brush-T mean that the aspect spin or interference, all too often associated with plastic and wooden tees, can be eliminated. The bristles provide raised foodstuffs for the ball, but still give unprecedented flexibility. Independent trying in San Diego and California, appearance a marked improvement in the dispersal rate, thereby redemption greater accuracy. Hit further. The bristles just go with the stroke.

Brush-T utilizes flexible synthetic bristles that intonation on touch to tee up the ball, creating a emotion of driving the paradise off the air. Less hatred yield dramatically longer and straighter drives. The Brush-T reduces hatred ordinarily encountered at the essence of impact, and restores that stolen velocity, allowing the orb to travel the maximum procedure possible. Independent testing has proven that golfers can growth up to 7 fold additional driving yards. Hit straighter - you'll never see a cleaner income off' stroke! Brush-T Golf Tees

The defect of the Brush-T is they are bigger and bulkier then usual golfing tee. You obligation to carry different quantity ones in your bag because you cannot insert them into the ground past the brush. So, the tees come with different sizes for drivers, 3 woods and irons. The good news is they are strong and tins conclusion many rollover with out breaking.

Zero Friction Golf Tees are gaining commonness especially among younger golfers. - The Zero Friction pinnacle significantly reduces the liaison region between the golf area and the tee, rendering maximum method and accuracy. They are also environmentally friendly since they are made of biodegradable materials. Once again less discrepancy = more distance(TM) as claimed by Excel Golf Tee Inc, based in Chicago Illinois the Zero Friction Golf tee owners How do Zero Friction golf tee cut down on friction? The decision is a cup quantity 30% smaller than traditional tees. Less liaison between the cup and the ball, the less spin which guide to further drives. Zero Friction claims to be the hottest golf tee on the PGA tour with 2005-2007 Success - 27 victories and over 160 vertex finishes. The biggest complaint we get from the Zero discord golf tees is that they are little harder to conformity the realm on the tee because of the small tees heads.

Lift Tee is a low opposition tee which degree the orb can be hit cleanly, increasing your driving distance! Only the tips make liaison with the ball, so animosity is low. This ensures a superior follow through! Conforms to the Rules of Golf.

The Lift Tee is a sturdy polycarbonate tee with a flexible "lift" to appeal the planet on. This lift reduces opposition so the globe can be punch cleanly, increasing driving distance. Due to the sturdy duster they tees are made from, they conclusion for a long time. Ladies love these tees.

Other popular Golf Tees:

Anti Slice Golf Tees: They have plastic that covers the period of the golf sky decorating down on district spin

Step Down Tees: Tees with system level that come in different sizes

Velocitees: Designed to assistance crops overspin for more distance.

Airlift Tees: Technology to ensure your tees vitality much longer than traditional logs tees or fool plastic tees.

Rip Tees: 3 kernel bristle caps for wooden tees.

Stinger Golf Tees: Ultra Streamlined Design

DepthFinder Golf Tees: Tees your orb to perfect height EVERY time!

Perfect Tees: Designed for today's advanced golf technology.

More..... In finish everyone has there own spells for tees. The best media to discovery what plant for you is experiment. The type of golf tee you use may improve your prey just by appointing you certainty when you look at the realm on that tee. You tins finds all of these tees and more at at  all at discounted prices and most with the more you buy the more you save. Once you discovery the tees that suite your quarry come see us and save at 

Mike Manzella owner of https://golfiya.com/product-category/accessories/golf-tees/ supplier of golf furniture at DISCOUNTED PRICES!

[mygolfiya-blog]

Golf Balls - The Expert Guide

Golf Balls - How a small, round, dimpled sphere has the power to alter your game. In today's game, golf courage have become high-tech super-spheres that claim to do cosmos but television themselves! One popular golf orb claims 'long distance and super feel', another 'longer distance, more spin and control' and a third 'ultimate method and control'. Confused? Might as well choose a golf planet based on the colour of the box!

But wait! Playing the benefit golf area for your victim WILL enhance your achievement and overall kicks of the game. It's just a incident of decorating through the spin to find that ball.

To help you in your pursuit for the perfect golf ball, we'll proceeds you on a extract from the humble commencement of the golf domain through to today's technologically advanced balls.

The Early Days In general, the larger the bag the heavier it testament be - despite help from durable lightweight materials. Although the lightest designs now weigh in below 3lb, special lumbar and/or haunch padding is available for convenience and can type a actuality difference

In the earliest years of golf, some 500 age ago, trifler used primitive equipment to play the windowpane in a rather haphazard and casual manner. The golf globe has undergone dozens upgrades and enhancements throughout its long life, with several distinct stages:

Wooden - Used from the mid 15th century, the first golf boldness were made from hardwoods such as beech. Often used in conjunction with wooden clubs, a round of golf would have been a particularly jarring experience.

Featherie - In 1618 the Featherie golf ball was invented and was used for nearly 250 years. These boldness were made by fillings wet goose nature into a fist stitched rain leather ball. As it dried the leather shrunk and the feathers expanded creating a hard and compact ball. This time consumption tendency ensured the expense was out of sweeps of the masses, often selling for more than the price of a club.

Guttie - Rev Dr Robert Adams Paterson created the first golf testicles made from Gutta-percha in 1848. The ball was created from the dried fool of the tropical sapodilla tree, which was heated up and formed into realm shapes. The improved achievement and cheaper costs of the Guttie contributed greatly to the spreads of the game.

Hand Hammered Guttie - It was also discovered that improperly smoothed nonsense often had a truer fly than the smoother versions, and the Hand Hammered Guttie Ball, with an even pattern hammered on by hand, was born. By 1890, golf balls were formed in iron moulds, and the Bramble design, with raised spherical bumps resembling a raspberry, became the most popular orb of the Guttie era.

Rubber - The advent of the rubber area changed the fronts of golf as we know it. Invented by Coburn Haskell in 1898 it featured a solid gum mettle wrapped in rubber thread. Early Gutta-percha covers soon gave way to the Balata envelope that was introduced in the early 1900s. Although they looked like Gutties, the average golfer could gain an extra 20 enclosure off the tee. So the guttie gave resources to the aerodynamically superior dimple pattern, first used in 1908 and still being used today.

Today's Golf Balls - Wonders of Multi-Layer Construction In recent years, the lesions golf ball has largely been replaced by multilayer balls, resulting in a bewildering selection of golf balls. To simplify, modern golf courage can be broken down into three main categories.

Two Piece. This is a tough, durable golf area usually with a large, solid inner center and a hard Surlyn cover, generally designed to maximise direction through a high launch period and low levels of spin

Our Recommendation. Two-piece golf boldness are what every inventor should play. With less spin you are less likely to hook or sections the ball. At the same time you are likely to box the ball further. The expense of two-piece boldness tends to be less, definition that they won't proceeds a large bite out of your budget when they end up in the lake or the rough!

Multi-Layer. Typically made of three or four covering in which the hearts is wrapped in one or two layers, the multi layer golf domain is usually preferred by Tour gambler for the extra mastery it offers.

Three-piece. These have a large synthetic core, a thin mantel and a cover. Sometimes, tungsten weights are used in the middle of the synthetic mettle for optimised compression centering.

Four-piece. These multi-layer golf nonsense have a smaller inner core, surrounded by an outer core, similar to the three-piece ball. This is then surrounded by a thin mantel and a cover. Multi-layer testicles are generally more expensive, and suited to the more experienced golfer. They tend to have much better control and feel around the green, provide more spin, but don't travel as far and are less forgiving on hooks and slices.

Our Recommendation. Multi-layer golf courage are best for the better athlete who can appreciate the benefits of extra spin mastery over and above distance.

Wound. Much less common in today's game, wound golf nonsense have a central center that has been wrapped in rubber thread and then usually covered in Balata cover. These balls tend to be less durable and often testament not hold up to the average player's round. They submissiveness fantastic emotion and have great spin, though, halting faster on the green - but the trade-off is a evasion in distance. Also, their performance is affected by the temperature, with their road and overall performance deteriorating in temperatures below 20°C.

Very few group still use the lesions balata ball, and it is likely to be replaced altogether by the multi-layer ball. However, some specialist still like the extraordinary feel and spin sovereignty required for grace shooter around the green.

Our Recommendation. This planet is only really suitable for the best of the very best golfers.

Play to your strengths Today's golf boldness use sophisticated construction techniques that have a direct touch on different appearance of the game, including driving distance, approach control, arranging roll, portion and cost. You should select your sky according to which one suits the bulk important aspect of your quarry - what you indispensability most help with. Here's our summary:

If you necessity distance (Ideal for mid to high handicappers) Too scads spin testament make the planet fly too high, and too little testament reduce carry. If you need ways and forgiveness go for a hard ball. The combined steadiness of the envelope and spunk allow the domain to travel longer distances and be very durable, but be aware it won't stop as well on the green.

If you need spin (Ideal for better players) A spin ball is constructed with a cover that generates more spin when struck with a lofted club. This globe is better suited to play draw and fade photograph around obstacles and testament stop well on the green. However, it testament also be easier to department or hook shots.

If you are observing for ultimate mastery - distance and spin combined (Ideal for very serious players) A sovereignty golf planet has the characteristics of a manner heavens with the ability to stop quickly on the green, with allegedly less risk of hooking or slicing the golf area than a pure spin ball.

Other considerations

Slow Swingers. For golfers with a slower swing speed, it is advisable to utility a golf sky that is designed to maximise the driving distance for the slower club head speed. Ideal for ladies, seniors and less powerful players

Putting Perfection. Different type and exemplar of golf area will roll different distances on the laying green, with harder balls tending to cob further. Bear in mind more expensive balls are likely to bun truer as well, due to better balancing.

Play to your budget. It is better to pleasure consistently with a golf domain you can afford rather than a reward domain that you cannot afford to custom with. Also playing with damaged nonsense will touch on your game, so it is better to pleasure an affordable sky and replace it regularly.

And Finally - Golf Ball Myths

More dimples aftereffect in a higher trajectory. This is not true. The optimum quantity of dimples on a golf sky is between 350 and 450. It is the distortion event of the golf ball, along with the strength of the dimples that determines the trajectory.

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