/lit/ - Literature

>>1842982
/lit/ - this guy has /lit/tle cock

>>1842938
I'M CIRCUMSIZED !!!!

YU MAD BRO ;D

>>1842966
i was more looking for some advice on how to improve?

comments ??

“C’mon man this shit ain’t funny get up Terrence!” Jamaal pleaded with his brother, but the way his tone sounded implied that he was praying his brother was okay. As he said this the rest of the crew showed up, all beers in hand.
“Oh shit, Windy go fetch an ice pad from the trainer’s freezer and bring it over. While you’re at it grab a cup of ice water from one of the coolers.”


And that's all I have so far guys

For a few seconds there was a still hush in the room as Jessy sipped on his beer and Jamaal walked back to one of the still-full ice chests and started tossing around some of the 24 ounce cans they still had. As Jake cracked open his own beer and started chugging down, a loud crash emitted from outside the room. “God DAMMIT can my shit-for-brains of a brother do anything without fucking it up.” Jamaal had kicked up his feet on the table and looked relaxed prior to yet what sounded like another mess caused by Terrence, and was the first to hop out and check out the damage done. Trey of course, couldn’t help but snicker and chase Jamaal like an eager puppy; he loved getting in the first rib after one of his colleagues did anything stupid. Jake let out a sigh and grabbed the top of his beer along with him to see what the commotion was.
As Jake got to the scene he was a little unnerved by what he saw. The janitor’s closet door was open, and it appeared that’s as far as Terrence got. Terrence laid unconscious on the ground, and Jamaal was kneeled beside him trying to nudge his brother awake. Jake looked over at Trey, who seemed to share the feeling he currently had. Trey’s hands were clasped together on the back of his head, clearly not expecting the scene he ran so eagerly to. Jake walked to the other side of the twins to inspect what exactly caused the predicament they now faced. He peeked inside to see a clutter of tools, extension cords, fans, and all sorts of other electrical and training-related equipment resting on shelves packed tightly together. A mop lay on the ground, as did a rather large, red toolbox that lay on its side with its contents partially exposed. It seemed the culprit for Terrence’s current state had been found. Jake crouched down on side of Jamaal and noticed a golf ball-sized purple welt starting to swell on Terrence’s forehead.

With a bit of blood coursing down the back of his neck, both from the bug and his own supply, Terrence shook his head at Windy. “Nah man I can’t seem to get used to something as annoying as these sneaky little fuckers nipping on the back of my neck and my shins at every chance they get. I coat myself in Off spray during practice to help, and it does, but I always get one or two that just don’t give a shit and end up scratching for days at those damn bumps they leave. I should have brought some up with me, but it’s beyond me how it managed to sneak into the building.”
“Sounds like you’re gonna love the next week then, because they just love the hurricane water and spawn like rats in the floodwater,” Jamaal chuckled at the expense of his brother, and got a sigh of exasperation as a response. “Best clean up the mess you made with that bottle so we ain’t got to deal with it later while we’re gettin’ lit up.”
Terrence shrugged and with reluctance went off to the maintenance closet to get a broom, mop, dust bin and bucket. He opened the thin, wood door and wandered down the hall, and prayed the janitor left it unlocked before he evacuated to Atlanta, where many other locals retreat to in this scenario.

"Yeah Windbag you might want to hop on that before Mark gives you the warmth of a super-star football player.” Mark just rolled his eyes and let Trey’s insult roll off of him like a calm wave hitting a levee on the lakefront.

The joking atmosphere in the room was broken by the sound of shattering glass. “OW FUCK!” Everyone’s heads turned towards the piercing sound followed by the vulgar scream. To the players’ surprise the outburst came from Jamaal’s little brother (Terrence was only younger by literally a couple minutes as the two were twins at birth). Terrence always had a tendency to stay on the outside of the circle, not that he was socially rejected by the gang, but more-so just because of his preference to drag the least amount of attention to himself as possible, so it was no shock to see him close to the corner of the room. He stood there with a grimaced look and his black, left hand on his neck.
“C’mon Terrence you still haven’t gotten used to the damn ‘skeeters down here? Seems you can handle a few defensive backs but can’t seem to shake a few bloodsuckers with wings.” Jessy had met a couple of Cajuns at a bar during the first year of him playing on the team, and in their drunken stupor kept complaining about how ‘them damn ‘skeeters,’ had bitten him up and had just recovered from a nasty case of West Nile. It was a notorious local disease that the swamp-loving mosquitoes carried around, and was a big reason why the city made sure to spray pesticide directed at the buzzing terrors to keep the disease from spreading between insect and man. Just one unlucky nip from these ‘damned ‘skeeters’ could cause several weeks of horrid fever, and in some of the rarer cases, meningitis. Although that rarely happened except with the elderly, young children, and those with other medical issues that weakened their immune system.

>>1842881
Jessy, the quarterback, cracked open a leftover beer from last night and took a long gulp, followed by a sigh of approval. Wiping some drops of beer from his brown goatee, he announced, "C'mon boys let's grab some more drinks, I'm sure we ain't leaving anytime soon if the floodings as bad as Mrs. Cruz said on the tube last night."

"I don't know Windbag, why don't we go to your locker and ask her on that poster ya got of her!" Trey high-fived Mark as they both howled with laughter. And that's why Jake loved playing ball so much; no matter how bad the drama got in the locker room the next day they'd all be joking and hugging each other like brothers again.

"Trey I don't give a fuck what anyone says, in Tina's modeling days she was one fine piece of ass. What a shame she stopped modeling for all those swimsuit calendars." Jessy had always had a small crush on the weather-girl, and hoped to ask her out one day. Trey always bugged his boy under center for never placing a call to the local news station to try and sweet-talk Tina into giving him her number followed by a romantic date.

"Yeah so why don't you just give Tina a nice inside-her." Jamaal made sure to exaggerate the last part, and Jessy just rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"Jamaal, you are oh so punny. Why don't you grab the rest of us some brewski's instead of cracking lame-ass jokes. Leave Windy alone if he wants to get his shit together and ask her out that's his business. If he wants to sleep without the warmth of a super-model like Tina that's his business too."

It was true, Jake was named as an agile scat back and was one of the best at faking out whoever was in his way. There had been times defenders dove right over his head from ducking so low, and would just keep on going. Jake's natural running back sense of pinpointing the exact times to maneuver his legs and body could almost be called his 'Spidey Sense;' it felt at times as if he wasn't even the one with the ball dipping between tacklers. Numerous coaches over the years had told him that instincts couldn't be taught, that you were either born with it or you learned to master them through pure, raw experience on the gridiron. And while none of them said anything to Jake, they knew he had it and so did he. Any coach knows not to put a player on a pedastal to keep them from getting a big head, but for the most part Jake had kept his ego in check. The same could not be said for the rest of the players in the room, however.

Jacob looked around as Jamaal snickered at the mess caused from the previous night. Several empty pizza boxes lay on the thick glass table in the center of the room, with one slice dangling halfway off the table. Dozens of beer cans lay around the room all scattered about but mostly by the thick leather chairs surrounding the table. A used funnel laid limply behind a chair with a few drops of light beer still inside its tube, and a keg sat motionless with the tap still in it. There was also a few bottles of liquor, mainly whiskey, with varying amounts of its contents still inside; most of them were still lying on the floor. For the most part the rooms decoration remained largely untouched, aside from a broken team-themed vase from Mark knocking into a wooden table resting against the wall. It was broken into several pieces, with the black and red logo split in two across its middle. Several framed pictures of the team owner, its manager, and current coach still hung in pristine condition along the walls.

Jamaal had always been the more outspoken of the two brothers, but both took their tasks very seriously and made sure they contributed the fullest to their team year in and year out. Their skill sets were very similar, and defenses constantly had to mix up their coverages to beat the duo. Both ran a 4.5 and had soft, large hands. Like Jacob, Jamaal was drafted the year after The Storm, while Terrance was picked up through free agency two years ago from a slowly deteriorating team. Jamaal was the bigger of the two, and could back up his loud mouth with both the strength and his ability. Terrence was the quieter of the two, but was one not to be pushed around by nobody on the other side of the ball, not even his own teammates. His temper would occasionally flare during a game after a dirty shove or a busted play, and his fellows would have to leash him to keep that yellow flag from flying out of the ref's pocket. Jamaal was different; he preferred showing up defenders with a burst of talent to make his corners look like sloppy fools. Numerous times after catching a pass he would leap over defenders so they would tackle nothing but a fistful of air and a mouthful of turf. While Jessy was the born leader of the offense to rally his troops around him, it was Jamaal that would give invigorating speeches to both the offense and defense to get their blood boiling. Several times in monumental games where the De Lis were trailing Jamaal made an on-the-spot speech during halftime to put his team back in the game, and you could see its effects on the tape. Jacob was one of the players Jamaal liked to get riled up with him being the main running back and all. Since Jake was from the same draft class he didn't mind it either. There was many-a-time where Jake would get smashed in the side of the helmet by Jamaal's fist and told, "I know you ain't no Kitten playboy, juke them boys so hard they're ankles snap!"

Mark chuckled and looked as the rest of the group began to stir from their sleep. Trey's obnoxious laugh earlier had merited a few grunts from the snoring players, and him being tackled into a wall by Mark had awoken some of them. Jessy Winder, the quarterback, was the next to arise from an inflatable mattress he had set up in the back of the room. The Horn brothers, Jamaal and Terrance, were the next to follow. They had brought matching blue sleeping bags and white pillows to lay upon during the night. Jamaal pulled his arms behind his back in the air to stretch out his back and shoulders, shook his head, and admired the damage that had been done. "Damn we're gonna need to call Esmeralda to clean this bitch up."

>>1842868

"You know how I hate jokes about that kind of shit Trey. But hey I'm glad to know we're cool now. Now come here and give Pops a hug."

Jake's laughing slowed and with a sly grin said, "Yeah Trey hug it out! It ain't a legit truce 'til ya do."

Trey backed away, but not quick enough as Mark pounced on him and nailed him against the wall. Trey had more muscle, but overall Mark was taller and had a wider frame and easily overcame Trey. He tried shoving Pops away but Mark, dodging him and hugging him like a bear told Trey, "See doesn't that feel nice, having some one that cares about you. Lord knows you're too knuckle-headed to get married anytime soon, so until then you just have me baby." Pops made sure Trey saw him give him a playful wink. Trey had always been the homophobic type, so it was no surprise that his gaze became fearful and struggled harder to get out of Mark's grasp. Once Mark had his long arms around you though, it was all over and there was no escaping this uncomfortable situation for Trey.

"Get off'a me you man-lover, move to 'Frisco's team if you want that soap-dropping action."

"You know I'm fucking with you Trey, just chillax little man." Mark slipped behind Trey and put him in a light headlock as he nuggied him like two toddlers in kindergarten going at it.

Trey was able to slip out at this point and just shook his head, looking over at Jake. "You better keep an eye out on your father figure Jakey. Something tells me Mark's been swinging on the wrong end of Bourbon Street lately."

"No no no man it was totally something different I was thinking about. Keep trying to reach out to Trey on a brotherly level man no one's gotten there yet."

"Yeah well I'mma get to this guy before I retire I don't care what Coach says. But Trey I'm trying to be serious, though. You are a total jackass and I wanna tear the hair out of my head some days because of your arrogance, but I love you, as Jake said, like a brother, dude. I apologize for punching you, and believe me I'm REALLY sorry you swung back."

Trey bust out with laughter as Mark said it and choked out, "Can't handle Mister 800's guns can ya Mark? And look dude it's water under the bridge. Actually, as of this morning the water's all over the goddamnned city," Trey bent over and continued roaring with laughter. His laugh was so contagious that Jake couldn't hold back, and even Mark, who hated flooding jokes after experiencing Katrina, tried to glare at him seriously for a second but joined in to make it a threesome of laughter. Trey was known for spewing out all kinds of hurricane and Katrina storm jokes; some dissapproved while others just joined in the fun, but Jake believed Trey told these jokes to help block out the memories from the storm. Trey had seen the footage of the aftermath being shot from a news helicopter from a player's house in Baton Rouge. Some of the team thought he just couldn't handle the negativity surrounding the entire city, and that's why he hopped on the first flight out of here.

>>1842862
Jake laughed at Trey's cop comment; he had always been the team's clown of sorts. Mark was obviously trying to be the bigger man, despite Trey's attempts at pushing his buttons like he constantly does in the locker room. "C'mon man they love working here that's fucked up calling 'em that Trey. Anyways are we cool man we can't have that kind of shit bringing the team down?"

Trey looked down and shrugged his shoulders. He hated this kind of mushy guy talk, preferring his tomfoolery over emotional conversations. It was probably one of the reasons he couldn't hold down a relationship with any respectable woman for long. Trey could make you laugh all day long, but had the emotional sense of a Louisiana crocodile. Oh shit, Jake thought, crocs are from Australia it's the gators that live in the swamps around here. He chuckled to himself, and Mark noticed. "Hey kid this shit isn't funny I'm trying to be straight with this thick muscle head. You ain't helping over there giggling like a giddy Catholic school girl!" Mark motioned lightly over to Jake as he shook his head like a disapproving parent. He almost looked the part with his receding brown hairline, which made Jake laugh yet again. Mark sighed at 'The Kid' and was about to say something before he was cut off.

>>1842860

At this point Trey blinked his eyes for a long second, crossed his arms and sighed. "Look Trey, what we did last night was foolish, ya know? That was stupid shit we were fighting about and you should know that. We should have settled it with a drunken sprint across the indoor field out back instead of chucking at each other like the Carolina Kittens." This was yet another common phrase the team used among each other. The Carolina Minks were one of the most pitiful teams in the league, and were notorious for starting fights when things didn't go their way late in the game. One of their linebackers got suspended the previous season for knocking out a referee for a pass interference call. While the ref was wrong, it did nothing but rile up the crowd and make commentators later on roar with laughter at probably the LB's most notable piece on his highlight reel. The players would often call each other Kittens if they weren't working their hardest or were hitting like high school runts.

Trey chuckled at Mark's approach towards reconciliation, but agreed with Mark. "Can you imagine the security inside catching a glimpse of us zig-zagging across the field on the cameras? Damn Mark we missed out on some good footage with that party-ending scrum. I would have loved seeing that this morning from our rent-a-cops."

>>1842856

Trey glared at Mark and defiantly snorted, saying, "You seem so sure of yourself Mark why don't you have another go at me Pops." The team had pinned this nickname on him for being the oldest on the team at 36 years. Mark had no problem with it, in fact it amused him to think of himself as the team's father. In contrast, Trey had been on the team for 9 years, and was also around the team in the pre-Katrina era. He had caught some flak from the local media for simply flying back to his parents' home in Chicago and avoiding the entire mess going on in the Gulf South, but some locals couldn't blame him. Many said it was a lot of pressure to endure trying to uplift a city through playing, and with his home on the West Bank of the Mississippi, it was wrecked after the storm. Some lost respect for the long-time fullback, while others sympathized with him and said he was one of the locals for losing his house, and did what anyone would have done if they had the bank roll that Trey had. Trey had refused to ever speak about it, though, and would always state, 'Look it's over. I've bought a totally seperate house in Lakeview which is what I should have done in the first place, so that was stupid on my part. Let's talk about this weekend instead.'

>>1842853
Trey glared at Mark and defiantly snorted, saying, "You seem so sure of yourself Mark why don't you have another go at me Pops." The team had pinned this nickname on him for being the oldest on the team at 36 years. Mark had no problem with it, in fact it amused him to think of himself as the team's father. In contrast, Trey had been on the team for 9 years, and was also around the team in the pre-Katrina era. He had caught some flak from the local media for simply flying back to his parents' home in Chicago and avoiding the entire mess going on in the Gulf South, but some locals couldn't blame him. Many said it was a lot of pressure to endure trying to uplift a city through playing, and with his home on the West Bank of the Mississippi, it was wrecked after the storm. Some lost respect for the long-time fullback, while others sympathized with him and said he was one of the locals for losing his house, and did what anyone would have done if they had the bank roll that Trey had. Trey had refused to ever speak about it, though, and would always state, 'Look it's over. I've bought a totally seperate house in Lakeview which is what I should have done in the first place, so that was stupid on my part. Let's talk about this weekend instead.'

>>1842847

The room grew tense as the next player to rise and shine was the fullback. Trey Reeder, like the center, had a bruise on his face, though not quite as large as Mark's. Trey yawned and stood up from the black leather couch he had been laying on, and Jake quickly sat up in case of another altercation. "Mornin' Trey, how ya feeling?" Jake asked with caution.

"I'm alright, except for this slight itch bothering me."

"You mean that gigantic spot from me decking you last night, Trey?" Mark grunted.

"Nah nah Mark, that itch some girl gave me at that club Bounce last weekend," Trey wittily replied with a grin on his face. He moved a little closer to Mark, as if challenging Mark to take another swing at him.

"Funny, because the last time you fucked anybody was back in grad school, and that was with your roommate Tom," Mark said as the heat in the room began to rise. He also took a step towards his counter-part, and this made Jake stand up.

Mark looked over at Jake and held his hand up, which convinced Jake to sit back down. This was another trait of Mark's; he always would hold his hand up to let the team or whoever he was talking to know that he had control of the situation. Once Mark's hand had been raised, everyone was to be quiet, and the whole team knew this, especially the offense, and even Trey would follow it, albeit with reluctance. "No need to worry kid, I'm not going to do anything this time around to Trey, he knows I could take him sober anyways."

>>1842844
"Yeah, well I won't be making that mistake again any time soon kid." Mark had always called the veteran running back kid ever since he came here as a rookie; he had been on the team since before Hurricane Katrina, amassing 13 years total as the relied-upon center. Jake found that he looked up to Mark the most out of anyone else on the team. Mark was a dedicated football player, and with the exception of last night, his character was always on par. He was constantly organizing charitable events around the city, whether it be donations to Second Harvester followed by a morning's hard work at their warehouse, or the re-building of homes decimated from the '05 hurricane. The city was still not fully rebuilt yet, and any kind of volunteer work around the city was welcomed with open arms, especially from the state's biggest superstars. Mark had always believed in setting an example for others to follow, "Kindness is contagious," he always said. It had begun a kind of slogan for the center, and was frequently used on radio and TV ads for charitable organizations like Habitat for Humanity. Like Jake, Mark was single with no kids; when he had been asked about his marital status a few months back by the younger running back Mark had simply told him he just hadn't got around to it yet. With how busy Mark had always been it was no surprise to Jake that he had never settled down, but the man still had time.

>>1842840
As Mark Yinkovich got up out of the couch he had crashed on, a giant, banana-bruise-looking welt on his left cheek came into Jake's view. Jake snickered at Mark, "Do we need to call up the trainer for that battle-scar Mark?" He was the first to wake up among the other passed out teammates, who had taken their spots along the floor and in some reclining chairs. Mark rubbed his eyes and winced as he felt his swollen face. Hearing Jake, he just grinned and replied with a friendly, "Fuck off Jake. Let's see you have the balls to hit Trey next time."

Jake laughed and said with a sarcastic tone, "Oh no, I'm not that stupid to have a go at Mister 800." Trey, the fullback, had earned that nickname by maxing out his bench press at, who would've guessed, 800 pounds. Trey would always boast about it, and come to think about it, had pinned the 'Mister 800' tag on himself. Jake believed that giving yourself a nickname was lame; your peers should be the ones to give it to you based on what you've done in the past whether it be based on an admirable accomplishment or simply a foolish act committed. However, Jake didn't have a problem with Trey, he always kept morale up during practice with his incessant jokes and upbeat personality. Trey had always been the cocky sort, and while Jacob admired confidence, Trey was on a totally different level.

>>1842839
While Jake always liked throwing an all-nighter at a club, the previous one was a players-only night. Jake and several other star players on the team had organized a party at the training facility, and it had been a wild night indeed. The administration of the team was iffy at first, but after winning the championship game the previous year they quickly changed their minds and allowed them a closed-off event, with the exception that they had to clean up after themselves of course. The reason for this sudden party was because of a massive storm that had hit the same night; it was customary for many locals to throw their own Hurricane Party with close family and friends. It was the first time the De Lis had allowed such a party in their own buildings on their own land, and it was pulled off in style. Of course, things got out of hand because of the combination of strong booze and swole men, and there was a fight involving two of their biggest players. The dispute was quite silly, as Jacob recalled; something to do over who was the fastest of the two. It was between the team's fullback and center, and Jacob thought a fight over something so stupid as who ran the quickest 40 between the two position types was ludacris. Jacob was the closest guy to the fight, and was the first to step in after a few punches had been thrown. The center had swung first after the fullback had made a hysterical remark about him tripping on one of Jake's sprints to the endzones from a recent preseason match. The fullback had barely staggered and returned the favor, but unlike his rival the center had ended up faceplanting on the floor. Most of the guys burst out into laughter from it, but Jake and his quarterback were smart enough to step in before things got ugly between the two.

>>1842833

It's not like he had met any girls yet worth settling down with anyways; the ones with the most voluptious curves weren't exactly blessed with smarts too. Many retirees of the league were in the same mindset as he, that distractions should be eliminated during his professional career and staying single was one good way of staying focused on the next game at hand. No, Jacob wanted to keep his life's drama at a minimum and having a girlfriend was not the way to do so; changing his social network relationship status would be too much of a hassle to deal with as of now.

No question that the massive salary he received from being the team's all-star was the most beneficial perk of all. Jake owned a mansion in Lakeview, all to himself. It was nice after a hard work at pracice or after a tolling game followed by a long flight home to kick his feet back in front of his grand plasma TV and enjoy a beer or two. He frequently threw his own house parties because of the lack of residents in his home, and noise complaints were never an issue with the neighbors. It was a two-story with two bedrooms, an extravagant kitchen, a living room filled with his past acheivements and room enough for a barn of farm animals, and a back yard to match it. Jake had a sweet ride as well, an appropriately painted black-and-red Murcielago which matched the team's colors. On the hood of his car was the team's logo with a white outline to make it stand out. The logo was the same as the team name; a large fluer de lis painted on each side of the team's helmets. His expensive rid was parked in the facility's garage in case of any chance of flooding, which was miniscule; the facility had never flooded in the past and Jake noticed no sign of that changing as he woke up from last night's festivities.

>>1842830
Another benefit for Jacob would be the women flocking to get a chance with the De Lis hotshot. Like any guy would say, getting laid is nice, and Jacob planned on playing the single field for as long as he could during his athletic career. Just about every time he went clubbing, he didn't even have to try to spit game at the southern beauties to take them home. They would come to him and ask for autographs, occasionally on their chest, and he would happily oblige. Later that night, he would give these girls a more intimate type of souvenir, and leave early the next morning to keep him from being tied down to any one girl. Eventually he just started carrying around with him a handy red sharpy in his pocket, or sock if need be. It wasn't strictly for autographs either, whenever he needed to jot something down on a piece of paper, or sometimes his skin if there was a lack of. Even during games he would carry this red marker around. Typically it would be to sign team memorabilia in the stands after a home game, but he was notorious for mimicking a past player by signing a football after an 80-yard touchdown sprint. However, the team had put Jake's marker to use, calling it the 'reddie.' Numerous times markers went missing on the sidelines, and Coach would call upon the 'reddie' to write down changes to a play or formation on their team's white board. Jacob almost jumped up from the couch with his hand to make sure he had his reddie on him. His hands dived into his camoflauge cargo shorts, and found his beloved trinket in the left pocket. Jacob laid back down, and his mind drifted back to the numerous women he had relations with. Jake had thought about settling down before, but felt he was just too young to deal with the responsibility of having a close girlfriend at this point in time.