Hamza-goldenarab - Hamza #9 Striker And #28 Linebacker - Tumblr Blog

Bro 2: Well fuck yea we’re on the fuckin team you dick.  Whatd you think we were fuckin nerds or some shit?  Dunno where you got your story from bro but thats a fucked up version of reality ur spittin at me right now.  Im always been who I am, fuckin Chad Taylor and this here’s fuckin Baddass Brad Owen.  Yeah, we just crushed em in semi-finals bro.  That’s who we are, who we always been.  So what if we ain’t doin too good in school?  We’ll get a bye, Coach will pass us.  Team needs us bro.  What you got?  Chess club?  Haha thats a fuckin cliche bro!  Look at you, are you wearin those suspenders ironicly or what?  You chose to do that bro, you chose to look and dress like u do.  So did we.  Gotta be ready to workout anytime, so thats why we’re in our gear 24 fuckin 7.  Fuck, Baddass Brad over here fuckin wore his pads to sleep last night, didnt ya Brad.

Bro 3: Yeah, it’s like, a … uhhh, luck, thing.  Before the big game, yea.

Bro 2: That’s how we fuckin roll bro.

Bro 3: Roll deep bro.

Bro 2: So what you gotta say about that, huh nerd-bro?  Ain’t got shit.  We arent like you cuz ur a fuckin pussy bro, sorry to say it, but it’s true, and what’s more I think u know its true.  Why dont u man up?

Bro 3: Yea, man up, nerd-bro. 

Bro 2: You know how you fuckin pussy you just dont wanna.  Ur lazy!

Bro 3: Gotta hit the gym, nerd-bro.

Bro 2: Yeah.  Hit the gym.  That easy.  Ur gonna do it, right?

Bro 3: Gotta do it bro.  Gotta get that pump.

Bro 2: Nothin beats the pump bro.

Bro 3: Nothin beats the pump.

Bro 2: Yo, we gotta go, nerd-bro.  We’ll see u at the fuckin gym.  And dont laugh cuz u know ur gonna be there. 

Bro 3: Yea, ur gonna be.  Wait til u see. 

Bro 2: Team needs a kicker bro.

Bro 3: Yea, team needs a kicker.

Bro 2: Check him out bro, he’s all swirly-eyed.  Look familiar?

Bro 3: Yea, he’s hittin it, its happenin.

Bro 2: Fuck yeah.  Give it a few months, new lil bro’s gonna be on the team.

Bro 3: Fuck yeah.  New lil bro.

Bro 2: New lil bro!  Fuck yeah!

Bro 4: Fuck … yeah …

Cocky And Proud, By Accident

Greg's roommate Chris had just begun his 10 month stay in Japan as a part of a student exchange program. In the beginning Greg thought that maybe, just maybe, he would have their 2 bed dorm all to himself. Then he realized he would probably be living with a student from Japan. After all, Chris was taking part in a student exchange program.

But he didn't expect what actually happened. He was assigned a new roommate, who turned out to be Heath Richards, a jock from the football team. When Greg was informed of the administration's decision he just sighed. This was going to be a hard year.

From the moment Heath first entered Greg's room it was clear his new roommate was a textbook example of a college football bro. He was loud - screaming while watching TV, belching and burping, laughing with that dumb jock chuckle. His clothes were everywhere and he refused to pick them up no matter how often Greg would remind him. This also meant that his sweaty smell quickly filled the whole room and removing this stench seemed impossible.

Greg was stuck with a dumb football jock for a roommate and he hated every minute of it. But there was nothing he could do as there was no process to appeal the decision that put Heath in his room. He also didn't have the money to move out and rent a studio off campus. So he was stuck with Heath. And that musky, sweaty smell.

One day Greg woke up and while still groggy and half-asleep, he started looking for clothes to wear. He opened his drawer and took out the pair of boxer briefs from the top of the pile and put it on. He then moved to their small kitchen area to prepare himself some breakfast. As he mixed the oatmeal he felt as if Heath's smell was more noticeable than usual.

"broooooooo" He suddenly heard the jock's voice behind him "why you wearin' my Under Armour boxers dude?"

"What?" Greg looked down and he gasped as he realized that the underwear he was wearing was not his usual kind, but Heath's black Under Armour boxer briefs.

"Fuck, how the hell did these get into my drawer, dude?"

"dunno brah, just calm down bro" Heath just shrugged "ya can wear them dude if ya want, i don't care, i have like 20 more after signing that sweet deal" Greg was about to scream at the guy, demanding he finally take care of his clothes when a thought entered his mind. You enjoy wearing Under Armour. It was a foreign thought, almost as if someone else had planted it in Greg's mind. But it stayed there, and though he was still angry at Heath, the need to take off the boxers just disappeared.

"Ugh" he just groaned "you jocks are all the same" he muttered under his breath and finished making his oatmeal, which he then took back to his desk. He sat down and started eating. You enjoy the smell of sweat, especially after a workout. The feeling of disgust at Heath's stench disappeared instantly, replaced by a slight enjoyment of the salty smell.

Greg quickly ate his breakfast, then got ready for the day. He put on a pair of shorts, a t-shirt and a hoodie, his ass still covered by Heath's UA boxer briefs. He saw the jock sitting on the couch on the other side of the room, wearing only a jockstrap, with his legs spread wide apart, looking at something on his phone. Greg rolled his eyes as he took his bag in his hand and walked up to the door.

"I hope I won't find any more of your clothes in my drawer, Heath" he barked at his roommate as he opened the door.

"yeah, yeah, calm down bruh" Heath drawled in response, then scratched his bulge. Greg sighed and left the room, ready to get through all the classes he had to attend today.

Greg was sitting on his third lecture of the day, still not the last, taking notes diligently. The professor went on and on, his charisma barely perceptible and he seemed to be the only person in the room who was still following what the older man was saying. Then, as the prof was looking at the computer, trying to change his presentations, a thought was implanted into Greg's mind. You have an IQ of 80 and don't care about academics.

He stopped taking notes and looked around. Fuck, how much longer was this lecture going to take? Greg shifted around in his seat, spreading his legs wider apart. The old dude leading the class resumed talking but he didn't really get what he was saying. It all sounded so boring.

An hour later, Greg was finally free of that old dude's ramblings. He looked at his phone and realized he still had one class left. Huhuh, nope, he was not going to suffer, not for one minute longer. And so he left the rest of his group and started walking towards the dorms. His brain needed time to relax after this mind numbing experience.

When he entered his dorm room, Heath was sitting on the couch, watching game tape on his laptop. Wait, how did he know it was game tape?

"ey dude, yer early bro" Heath commented, his eyes focused on the screen.

"Yeah..." Greg nodded, but then he didn't know what to say, he didn't have the words. You speak like a dumb jock.

"dude, lectures were so fuckin' boring bro, huhuhuh" Greg let out a dumb chuckle as he approached Heath and then sat down on the couch.

"duh bro, never got why ya bothered with all that academic bullshit bro, i see yer finally seeing how dumb all that shit is" Heath paused the video on his laptop and looked at Greg. "the only reason to stay in school is fuckin sports dude, ain't no other way to get to the NFL bro" He then furrowed his brow as he looked into Greg's eyes "you play ball dude?"

Greg was surprised by the question and as his brain was processing it, another thought appeared. You are a cornerback playing for the Atlanta Golden Eagles.

"yeah bruh huhuhuhuh, am a damn cornerback" Greg let out another dumb chuckle and Heath looked at him, suddenly very confused.

"shit, i gotta get ya to coach" He put the laptop away and stood up "follow me bruh"

Coach was not thrilled when he learned what happened to Greg. When Heath brought him to his office it took a while to get the necessary context out of the dumb jock, but eventually Coach was able to understand what had occured.

His supplements which turn all his players into strong and cocky football jocks had a weird quirk - it spread through his body and entered the jock's cum. And because Heath was one nasty jock, he got off into his boxers and didn't even wash them. so when Greg put on Heath's used boxers, some of the supplement got into his system and the his transformation began.

Coach was not thrilled, but he quickly , but he quickly decided to use this whole mishap to his advantage. He activated his connections, did some work himself and got himself a new player - cornerback Greg Geralt Evans. A few rounds of Coach's supplement and Geralt would be just as muscular as his best bro Heath, ready to get on the gridiron destroy any opposing team.

And Chris would have to find himself a new place to live after coming back form Japan.

Join us, loser. Become a winner. Join Coach’s army. Become a jock.

Preppy Gold mind and Preppy gold style. Being on Team Gold means we smash everything we do, on and off the field!! 💪 Join the team bros!

Look into ur godz eyez..u will alwayz love da gold, u will obey da gold, u will obey cap, u will bring da gold 2 lyf in ur real lyf, bring more gold rekruitz to uz, always n forever embraze de GOLD, GOLD ARMY IZ LYF

cum join da GOLD ARMY! @brodygold @hades-golden19 message uz 3 for ur GOLDEN BROCESSIUN

Lukin good pupbruh 💪🏼 and welcum ;)

a gift from a bro

With was a common day, lift some weights, have a good pump, then I hit the showers.

When I returned to the lockers, with was all empty, my clothes missing and a gift box there from my good bro @hercules-goldengod

immediately I put the golden pup gear and wait for ma brah.

just another day in the team.

come join us

Join da gold army, join us, gold is best, gold is u, gold is lyf, embrace da gold, embrace ya gold bruhz, we are GOLD BROTHERZ! @goldengod-ares10 and me in pic

message @brodygold @hades-golden19 and me 4 ur golden brocession bruhz

Look, bro, I like you, ok… we gotta be quick, I hear them outside the gym doors… I’ve never told anyone this, but I think I might be gay, and you’ve always been nice, for a nerd at least… Coach and the entire team are looking for you right now, since you know too much… they’re trying to turn you into a wrestler too… but I’ll give you this one chance to escape, since you really don’t seem to wanna get jocked, as awesome as it would be to have you on the team. You just gotta promise me two things. One: that you’ll never come back to this school again, leave town, disappear completely, and never tell anyone what kind of operation Coach is running here… I’ll miss you, but you gotta do what you gotta do… and two: that you’ll… kiss me. That’s all I want, buddy. Just press your little scrawny body against me in my singlet and passionately kiss me.

Or, if you really want, and maybe you’ll change your mind for me… you can just give in and join the team? Would it be so terrible? Why don’t you want to get turned into a wrestler? Think about it.

But think about it quick, dude… they’re coming. I can’t get caught helping you. You can kiss me and get away from here, or you can surrender to me and stay here with me and the team, and let Coach erase you and make you reborn as one of us. What’s it gonna be?

I need to write this paper. I need to… flex my biceps. The paper is due tomorrow. It’s half my grade for the semester. If I don’t finish this paper, I’ll fail the class. I could lose my scholarship. But my biceps. God, they feel amazing. They look amazing. My whole body looks amazing. The formula my roommate has been giving me is amazing. I am so grateful. I am so lucky that he is my roommate.

I need to go to the gym. I need to work out. I can finish this paper later, when I get home from the gym. I can finish it after I’m done taking my supplements and making my protein shake and planning my meals for the week. Then, I will finish this paper.

It’s not that important, anyhow. It’s half my grade, but I don’t need that class. I need to work on my body. I don’t care about my grades, I don’t care about that class. I need to take easier classes next year, so that I can focus more on my body. I need to take more classes about sports and nutrition. I should probably change my major.

How did this file get open on my computer? I should be making a playlist for my workout. Getting myself pumped up for the gym. This looks like some sort of a paper. I wasn’t writing a paper. I definitely wasn’t. Was I?

huhu iz gud bruvz, we drink it alla da tym innit

Us bros only drink the best, bro! And thanks to our water boys, we constantly have access to whatever water we want! This water has a few golden side effects, but who cares about your brain when your muscles can be swole? Wanna sip, bro?

When bros are not working out, they are "bro bonding". That's a prominent and sacred ritual found in every bro circle which serves different and very important purposes, some of which being:

It promotes the physical and mental rest necessary for muscle growth. Every gym bro knows rest is key if he wants to get bigger, and so is avoiding stress. One of the best ways to accomplish that is by spending time with his bros. That, of course, doesn't mean that bro bonding can't also happen during physical activities or environments such as the gym.

It strengthens their bond. By engaging in both chill and boisterous activities with their bros, their sense of belonging with each other is reinforced; a true reminder of the unity of the pack that's often proved necessary during challenging times.

It fuels their masculinity. Spending time with other men fosters a subconscious exchange of masculinity where bros are free to be themselves in their most natural and primal state. This can often be seen in actions such as being shirtless together; engaging in horseplay; physical affection (hugs, arms around each other's necks, etc); banter; flexing their muscles at each other; among others.

It's not uncommon that veteran bros will invite newer bros to take part in their bro bonding rituals. Such invitations can simultaneously serve different purposes:

Friendship: A veteran bro might be fond of or respect the new bro enough to want him to be a part of the pack;

Estimation: A veteran bro might use the opportunity to see if the new bro will prove to be a good fit for the pack (this can also be a subconscious act on the veteran's part);

Mentorship: the ritual can be a valuable opportunity for a new bro to learn more about the ways of brohood through his veterans.

Bro bonding is, in essence, the most fulfilling form of relationship a bro can experience. When it comes to the processes of broification and jockification, bro bonding will not only stimulate the growth of one's inner bro, it'll also grant a bro lifelong fraternal ties that are proven to be beneficial to his mental health.

Football is my only focus Football is all I think about Football is all I dream about Football is my first and last thought Football is all I enjoy Everything I am and everything I will be belongs to football. I pledge to serve and obey football forever. Football is who I am Football is what I am Football is my way of life Football is my purpose and my destiny Football is my everything I swear complete obedience, loyalty, fidelity, and fealty to football forever. I pledge to wear football gear every moment I am awake and asleep. Football is my life Football is my calling Football is my creed Football is my god Football is all I worship I freely give my my body, mind, spirit and soul to football. I pledge to hone my body to be perfect for football every day.

adapted from and inspired by @alphadose

🇺🇸💪🏻

Master Felix always gets his way when you send in your desires and i am always here to help even those like derek here 😈 message my master with all your desires and you may get to meet me too hehe

My desire is to fit into the clothes I bought, when I was feeling aspirational. I'm just slightly over average atm but the clothes I've got are a few sizes smaller and are muscle fit...

The sleek, modern apartment of Sorcerer Felix was a stark contrast to the soft, chubby figure you presented. You stood before the young, mischievous sorcerer, your heart heavy with the knowledge that your once-fit physique had succumbed to the pleasures of food and a sedentary lifestyle.

Felix' smirk only widened as he took in your appearance, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "So, obviously you've eaten for two recently, huh?" His words cut deep, but you couldn't deny the truth in them. "I know I've put on some weight," you confessed, your voice carrying a hint of embarrassment. "I want to change, Felix. I need your help." Felix's expression turned thoughtful, his fingers tapping his chin. "It's a considerable task, my friend. This won't be an overnight transformation."

Your spirits sank at his words, but he quickly added, "I can do it in three days with some assistance." Hope ignited within you, and you eagerly nodded, determined to see this through. "Whatever it takes," you declared. With a wave of his hand, Felix summoned Sxodnir, the himbo demon, who appeared with a sultry pout. His handsome features and muscular build were accentuated by his light blue glowing horns and metallic wings. "Master, you summoned me?" Sxodnir's voice was deep and sensual, but his eyes widened as he took in your appearance.

Sxodnir, used to the chiseled bodies of the Golden Army, turned to Felix with a look of disbelief, "But, Master, he's ..." "Fat, yes, I know," Felix interrupted, raising an eyebrow. "But that's where your expertise comes in, my dear Sxodnir. You know what to do." Sxodnir's handsome face contorted into a reluctant grimace. "Master, I... I can try, but he's not exactly my usual..." He gestured at your body, his handsome face contorted in a rare moment of discomfort. "Sxodnir!" Felix' admonishing tone left no room for argument. The demon sighed, his wings drooping slightly. "Okay, Master. I live to serve."

You were curious about the process, especially after hearing whispers of Sxodnir's legendary abilities. "So, Sxodnir will pleasure me, and that leads to... well, shooting the fat out of my cock?" The idea sounded bizarre, but you were desperate for a solution. Felix' laughter filled the room, drawing your attention back to him. "Not quite. Sxodnir's seed has unique properties. It will do the work from within. In essence, he will..." He paused, searching for the right words. "He'll fuck me?" you blurted out, your face heating up. Felix nodded, his expression turning serious. "Yes, that's the gist of it. It's the only way to ensure the seed is delivered effectively." Your eyes widened at this revelation, and you swallowed hard. You had never considered such an arrangement, and the idea of being penetrated made your stomach flutter with nerves. But the thought of finally shedding the weight overpowered your hesitation. And Sxodnir's reputation as a himbo demon, capable of delivering immense pleasure, sparked a curiosity you couldn't ignore. "I'll do it," you agreed, your voice steady despite the racing thoughts in your.

Sxodnir's expression remained unenthusiastic as he approached you. "This is new," he muttered, his eyes scanning your body. "How does this even work?" Before you could respond, Sxodnir grabbed you by the waist, pulling you closer. His touch was firm, and you felt a tingle where his hands gripped your flesh. "Just get it over with," you mumbled, closing your eyes.

Sxodnir's chiseled body pressed against yours, and you felt his hardness against your backside. "I'll try to make this quick," he whispered, his breath hot on your neck. The demon's movements were mechanical, devoid of the passion and pleasure you'd expected. His thrusts were rough, and he grunted with each push, making you feel like a mere vessel for his task. "It's like I'm fucking a jelly pudding," he complained, his voice laced with annoyance. You winced with each thrust, feeling more like a target for his frustration than a recipient of pleasure. The stories of Sxodnir's prowess seemed like a distant myth now. Finally, with a loud groan, Sxodnir released his seed inside you. "It's finally done!" he exclaimed, pulling out abruptly. You stumbled forward, feeling a mix of relief and disappointment. Sxodnir's lack of interest in your pleasure was evident, and you couldn't help but feel a twinge of hurt. "That's it?" you asked, turning to face him. Sxodnir shrugged, his wings fluttering slightly. "Master's orders. I'm done here." He turned and walked away, leaving you standing alone in the middle of the room.

On the next day the morning sun streamed through the windows of your apartment, casting a warm glow on your leather furniture. You stirred, feeling a sense of soemthing different in your body as you awoke. It was an unusual sensation, and you realized with a start that your morning wood was notably absent. Confused, you sat up in the plush bed, the soft sheets pooling around your waist. As you rose to begin your day, a strange sensation crept over you. It was as if your body was undergoing a metamorphosis. Your fingers traced the contours of your face, now sharper and more defined. The chubbiness that had once been a source of insecurity was melting away, replaced by chiseled cheekbones and a strong jawline. Your limbs, once soft and rounded, were now toned and muscular. But as your body transformed, you noticed a peculiar development—your belly was expanding, growing larger by the hour. "Hmm, not bad," you chuckled, admiring your reflection in the full-length mirror. "I look like a chiseled pregnant man."

By evening, you feel nauseous, a sensation you've never experienced before. You rush to the bathroom, only to empty your stomach's contents into the toilet.

The following morning, the pattern repeats. Your cock, usually a reliable indicator of your health and mood, remains uncharacteristically still and your belly had grown even larger. You placed your hands on it, feeling a strange sensation, almost like something was moving inside.

A subtle kicking sensation that sends shivers down your spine. "This can't be right," you muttered, panic setting in. You rushed to Felix' apartment, the sleek modern design now a familiar sight. "Felix, something's wrong," you gasped, clutching your expanding belly. "I think I'm... I mean, there's something growing in here!" Felix, lounging on his luxurious sofa, raiseed an eyebrow, his mischievous smile never fading.

"Oh, that's perfectly normal. You ate for two, remember? And now, the second one is on its way out." "What? No, I... I didn't sign up for this!" you protested, your voice rising in pitch. "I just wanted to lose some weight, not... not give birth!" But your words were cut short as a sharp pain griped your abdomen. You doubled over, clutching your belly, unable to speak. "Ah, the contractions have started," Felix said, standing up with a grin. "Let's get you to the bedroom."

The next hours were a blur of pain and exhaustion. Felix assisted you, his carefree demeanor surprisingly comforting in this moment of vulnerability. You screamed, moaned, and beged for mercy as the contractions intensified. "Push!" Felix encouraged, his voice a steady presence in the chaos. You bear down with all your might, and after what feels like an eternity, you heard a faint cry. "It's a girl!" Felix exclaimed, his voice filled with mock surprise. "Let... let me see her," you whispered, your strength sapped. Felix chuckled, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Oh, I'm afraid I fooled you. It's a boy. Labor got you confused, huh? Growing a girl without any XY chromosomes involved would be quite the feat, my friend." You glanced down at the bundle in Felix's arms, and your breath caught. The baby had a face that is strangely familiar, with soft, chubby cheeks and a tiny button nose. But the most striking features are the horns at his temples and the eyes—glowing with a demonic blue light. "Sxodnir!" you croaked, recognizing the demon who had taken such little pleasure in his task.

Sxodnir, who had been casually observing the birth, strolled over with a grin. "Looks like I'll be seeing more of you, huh?" Assuming he would take the demon child to his realm, you replied, "Could... could I see him sometimes? I mean, if you're taking him to the demon realm... I'd like to watch him grow." Sxodnir let out a booming laugh, his wings fluttering slightly. "Why would I care about some demon spawn? I'm a himbo demon, remember? I don't do diapers and bedtime stories. But you, my friend, you've become quite the specimen. I think we could have some fun together, as long as that... thing doesn't interrupt us." He gestured dismissively at your child. Anger flashed in your eyes at his callous words. "Forget it, Sxodnir! I won't let you speak about my son that way."

The casual way he dismissed your child as a 'thing' irritated you, reminding you of the rough treatment you endured during the ritual. Despite your indignation, you couldn't deny the stir of desire his presence evoked. Sxodnir's eyes narrowed, and he took a step closer, his wings brushing against the back of the chair. "Oh, I think you'll change your mind. After all, you owe me for this new body of yours." "I don't owe you anything," you retorted, but your voice lacked conviction. Felix, who had been observing the exchange with amusement, clapped a hand on your shoulder. "You'll be the talk of the town, my friend. The single dad with the chiseled body—all the moms at the playground will be swooning."

You blushed, feeling a mix of embarrassment and pride at the thought. Felix's expression turned serious. "But remember, no more overeating. Unless you want to start your own soccer team." As the conversation drew to a close, Sxodnir's eyes gleamed with a newfound intensity. "Master, I have a proposal. Let me pleasure this fine specimen tonight. I'll drive him wild with desire and make him submit to my every whim." Felix's eyebrows shot up, and he exchanged a knowing glance with Sxodnir. "I suppose that's a fair trade for the... discomfort you endured." "Discomfort?" Sxodnir scoffed. "It was a chore, but I guess I can make it up to him." You opened your mouth to protest, but the words caught in your throat as you felt a sudden, intense arousal. Sxodnir's presence was having an undeniable effect on you, and you couldn't ignore the desire coursing through your veins. Felix' laughter filled the room. "I knew it! The transformation has left you susceptible to his charms. Enjoy the ride, my friend. It's all part of the fun." As the sun set, casting long shadows across the room, you found yourself drawn to Sxodnir, your body yearning for the pleasure he promised.

The following morning, you found yourself in the kitchen of Felix' luxurious apartment. The morning sun streamed into the sleek kitchen, illuminating your naked, muscular form as you stood there, only an apron tied around your waist. You felt a newfound sense of purpose as you whipped up a hearty breakfast, your movements efficient and confident.

It was an quite odd sensation, this newfound instinct to nurture, especially towards your boy and Felix, whose boyish charm made it hard to resist taking care of him. Sxodnir's words from the night before echoed in your mind.

"What's this?" Felix asked, entering the kitchen. "Sxodnir, is this your doing?"

"Yep! He's our house mommy now. No more chores for you, Master!" Sxodnir's laughter filled the room. As you served breakfast, you couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions. The events of the past few days had been bizarre, to say the least. From seeking weight loss to becoming a single dad overnight, your life had taken a dramatic turn. And with Sxodnir's persistent advances, you wondered what new challenges lay ahead. The morning sun casting a warm glow on the modern décor, and you realized that this was just the beginning of your unconventional journey into fatherhood and beyond.

GROWTH

OBEDIENCE

LEADERSHIP

DRIVE

Join uw brahs, hit me or @brodygold up for da brocession of ur lives

The Power of GOLD

"Welcome, gentlemen. I'm pleased to see so many of you here today," Captain Richard said, his voice commanding yet charismatic as he stood at the front of the dimly lit room. "I'm sure you're curious about the Golden Army and what exactly it is you're investing in." A smirk flickered across his lips. "But before we dive into that, there's a special gift waiting for each of you under your seats—golden jerseys. Go ahead, put them on."

The room filled with the sound of fabric rustling and chairs shifting as the investors followed his instructions. Some hesitated, exchanging puzzled glances, but eventually, every man in the room donned the bright, shimmering jerseys. The transformation was subtle at first—shoulders straightening, postures growing more confident, with something deeper happening beneath the surface.

"Now," Richard continued, his tone more authoritative, "the Golden Army is not just a soccer team. It's an ideal, a way of life, and it's best summed up in one word: GOLD."

He turned, revealing the acronym on a large screen behind him.

"Growth.

Obedience.

Leadership.

Drive."

The lights dimmed further, focusing on Richard as he elaborated, his eyes scanning the room to gauge their reactions.

"Growth," he began, pacing slowly. "Being part of the Golden Army isn't just about physical transformation, though I’m sure you’re already feeling it." A few of the men glanced at their arms and chests, already noticing subtle muscular definition they hadn’t possessed before. "These jerseys don't just make you look the part—they turn you into prime specimens for any sport you touch. But more importantly, we foster growth as men, as leaders, as pillars of our community. Through charity events, community service, and outreach, you’ll not only strengthen your body but your spirit. You will become part of something far greater than yourselves."

The room buzzed with excitement, the changes in the men's demeanor becoming more apparent. Their movements had become sharper, more purposeful.

"Obedience," Richard's voice sharpened, cutting through the air like a blade. "In the Golden Army, we move as one. When you wear this jersey, you follow orders without question. The team comes first. Always. You’ll learn discipline, loyalty, and the power of unity. Our success depends on how well you listen. On and off the field, you will follow me, your Captain, and the Coach. No exceptions."

There was a palpable shift in the room. What had once been casual investors now felt more like soldiers, sitting at attention without even realizing it.

"Leadership," Richard continued, his smile returning, though there was a fierceness to it now. "In the Golden Army, each of you will learn to lead. Even the most timid and unassuming men are molded into true alphas. You'll feel that arrogance bubbling up inside you, the hunger to dominate, to be the best. As leaders on the field, you'll radiate power—commanding respect without saying a word."

The men straightened even further, some of them visibly clenching their fists, their new-found dominance starting to take root.

"Finally, Drive," Richard said, his voice lowering to a near growl. "When you're part of the Golden Army, this is no hobby. This is your life. We demand nothing less than your full commitment, both on the field and off it. Every ounce of your strength, every drop of sweat, as well as your blood and tears, will be for the Army. You live for the win, you breathe for the team."

There was no hesitation now. The men nodded in unison, fully locked in.

"And that's the heart of the Golden Army," Richard concluded, standing tall. "I'm glad you’ve all chosen to invest in us, but more than that—today you’ve chosen to become one of us." His eyes glinted with something knowing as he surveyed the room. "Because what better way could you invest in the Golden Army than to join us?"

He stepped forward, locking eyes with each of them. "Am I clear?"

"Yes, Captain!" The chorus of voices responded instantly, filled with newfound vigor.

"Very good. You're dismissed for now. Go home, get some rest—because practice starts early tomorrow. And trust me, gentlemen..." He paused, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "You’ll need all the energy you can muster."

As the men filed out, the weight of their new identities settled on their shoulders, their golden jerseys glowing faintly in the light of the conference room. They weren’t just investors anymore. They were soldiers of the Golden Army. And they would embrace the GOLD in everything they did.

Propa stoked this finally arrived..this team is GOLDEN AF BRUHZ! More kit 2 cooome yoooo. Thanx Cap @hypnogold for makin sure we get da best kit innit 💪🏼💛

💛💛💪🏼💪🏼

A Game For Bros

Nate and I had always been the same: two nerds, caught up in our own world of video games, D&D, and sci-fi movies. He’d been my best friend since high school, a skinny guy with messy brown hair, always wearing some oversized t-shirt of a superhero. Me? I wasn’t much different. Shorter, stockier, and always in retro game tees. We never got into sports—couldn’t care less, really. But that Saturday, when Nate invited me over to check out a new game, we did something a bit out of our comfort zone.

“I don’t usually go for sports games,” I said as I plopped onto his worn-out couch. The game case for The Golden Army: Rise of Champions sat on the coffee table, glowing in a strange golden light. “What made you pick this one?”

Nate shrugged as he plugged in the system. “The reviews were insane, man. People say it’s super immersive, like you actually feel the game.”

“Sounds cool enough,” I muttered, grabbing a soda. “Let’s see what it’s about.”

Nate’s apartment looked the same as always—cluttered with comic books, action figures, and old consoles. The screen flashed on, bathing the room in golden light as the title appeared: The Golden Army: Rise of Champions. The graphics were sharp, but what immediately caught my attention was how detailed the avatar customization was. We both laughed as we started making characters that were basically us but... stronger, taller, more athletic.

“Man, I wish I was this ripped in real life,” I said, chuckling as I bulked up my avatar.

Nate nodded, not looking up from his controller. “Same here, dude. If only, right?”

Once the game started, though, things got weird fast. It wasn’t like any sports game I’d ever played. It was too smooth, too real. Every movement of my character felt like it was coming from me, like my body was somehow connected to the screen. Nate was feeling it too; I could tell by how focused he’d gotten.

“This feels insane,” I muttered, my fingers flying over the controller as my avatar sprinted down the field. My skin tingled, and for a second, I thought it was just adrenaline from getting into the game.

“Yeah, it’s like... I can *feel* it,” Nate said, his voice lower, more serious than usual.

What I didn’t realize was that I really *was* feeling it. I was changing. My arms, once stocky but kind of soft, were slowly growing harder, leaner, and stronger. My biceps pushed against the fabric of my t-shirt, but I didn’t notice at first. I was too absorbed in the game. Nate wasn’t paying attention either, but he was changing too. His scrawny arms were swelling, his chest growing more defined, the lines of muscle slowly becoming visible under his shirt.

My legs were thickening, my calves bulging as they hardened. Nate’s shoulders broadened as his posture straightened, more relaxed, confident. His shaggy hair started to shift, styling itself into something neater and more athletic. It suited him.

Our avatar dominated the field. Every pass, every kick felt like it was coming straight from us. By the time the match ended, I noticed my t-shirt was stretched tight against my chest, clinging to muscles I didn’t remember having. But it felt normal. Like I’d always been this way. Nate was the same. His shirt had morphed into something sleeker, a fitted gold soccer jersey. I looked down, realizing mine had changed too. I wasn’t in my retro game tee anymore—I was in a gold jersey too, my name stitched across the back.

But we didn’t freak out. We didn’t question it. Why would we? We’d always been jocks, right? That’s how we met in the first place.

“Yo, that was sick, bro!” I grinned at Nate, flexing my now-defined arms. “We totally crushed that game.”

Nate smirked, his voice deeper now, his body lean and athletic. “Hell yeah, man. No one can take us down.”

The room around us had changed too, though we didn’t notice with how invested in the game we were. Gone were the stacks of comics and games. Instead, soccer trophies lined the shelves, photos of us in our golden jerseys, posing as champions of The Golden Army. It was as if our old lives had been erased, replaced entirely by something new.

As we kept playing, our minds continued to shift. I didn’t care about D&D or sci-fi movies anymore. All I could think about was training, getting stronger, being the best. Nate, once shy and quiet, was now exuding confidence. We were athletes, teammates, brothers on and off the field.

Our bodies had finished transforming. I looked over at Nate, admiring how ripped he was now. His short hair was clean, his jawline sharp. He looked... good. Really good. The thought lingered longer than it should have, but I didn’t push it away. Why would I? We’d always been close, but now there was something else there, something that had shifted between us.

I felt my heart race as I caught him looking at me the same way, his eyes lingering on my chest, my arms. The air between us felt electric, like something was pulling us together.

“Yo, Nate,” I started, feeling my pulse quicken. “You ever feel like... there’s more between us than just the game?”

Nate turned to me, his eyes locked on mine, and for a moment, the room was silent. Then he smirked, but there was something softer in his gaze. “Yeah, bro. I’ve been feeling that too.”

It happened without thinking. I reached out, grabbing his hand, and suddenly, I was pulling him closer. Our eyes met, and before I could stop myself, I kissed him. His lips were warm, firm, and everything clicked into place. It was like this was always meant to happen. Like this was who we were supposed to be.

When we finally pulled away, both of us were breathing hard. Nate looked at me, his grin returning. “Damn, bro. That was... intense.”

“Yeah,” I replied, still catching my breath. “But I think we’ve always had this, right? Just took us a while to figure it out.”

Nate nodded, his hand still on my chest, his thumb brushing against the fabric of my jersey. “Always. And now? We’ve got everything we need.”

We leaned in again, and this time, it felt even more right. We were no longer the nerdy duo, lost in games and fantasy worlds. We were champions—alpha jocks, leaders of The Golden Army—and we had found each other. As I held Nate close, our golden jerseys shining in the light, I knew that everything was just how it should be.

“Now how about round 2, bro?”

“Oh, you’re so on bro!”

Hi, I've been reading about the golden army for a time now and I'm thinking about joining. Are there any requirements I have to do?

Message me bruh and we get ya in 💪🏼💛

💛💪🏼

All I think about is GOLD. All I want is GOLD. Everything about who I was b4 has been replaced. Only the gym matters now. Only the team matters now. GOLD for life bro. Join us.

A Note to Minors:

I see a lot on tumblr lately regarding the defense of underage participants in a certain community, as well as the underage participants expressing anger that they are not welcome on NSFW blogs. As a NSFW blogger, as well as someone who has come to know various sex laws due to their career, I thought I would clarify some things:

1. It doesn’t matter what the age of consent in your state is. Age of consent refers to the age that you are able to consent to sexual activity only.

2. Even if you are able to consent at age 16 or 17, by law you are still a minor. Pornography cannot be sold or viewed by minors.

3. If you are under 18 and you post explicit photos of yourself, you can be charged with creating and circulating child pornography, as the images contain a minor.

4. It is normal to have interests in sex and kink, regardless of age. There are safe spaces on the internet to seek these out and ask questions regarding your interests. Spaces where you can communicate with other teens, that are well moderated and do not allow adults to freely graze and prey. Scarleteen.com is probably the greatest example.

5. As a minor, showing purposeful disregard for another blogger or a website’s request that no minors be present on the site (and for some explicit material, 21 is the age for legal viewership) puts the owner of that blog and/or website at risk. No one wants to see awesome sex bloggers get shut down or sex friendly spaces on the internet get hit for having underage members. Think about more than just yourselves.

If you’re under 18, unfollow me. Don’t argue, don’t flame me, just unfollow. I’ll be the first person to high five you when you turn 18 and we can reminisce about how much it sucked to wait. Until then, peace out.

Night