Just Me And My Meathedz Twin @scott-golden9 In Our Golden Glory

Just me and my meathedz twin @scott-golden9 in our golden glory

My bros @scott-golden9 and @golden-logan10 wanted to pose with all the different variations of the golden knight mascot. We have different costumes for different sports, but Grayden is the lead mascot for a reason. I've got the stamina to wear any of these costumes for hours.

Wait how come Scott and Logan got stand-ins and I had to stand in all these sweaty costumes for hours for the photoshoot? You bros better be ready for a musky Grayden after all these hours of promo photos.

Like the costume, join the team to see it up close bro.💛

Brocessed

It was supposed to be a regular Friday night, just us nerds crowded around the table, rolling dice and fighting imaginary dragons. Our group had been together for years—me, Scott, Joey, Derek, and our Dungeon Master, Eric. We had snacks, character sheets, and an epic campaign planned for the night. Nothing out of the ordinary, right?

Except when that knock came at the door.

“Who could that be?” I muttered, looking at the clock. None of us had ordered pizza, and it was almost 11 p.m. We all exchanged looks, and Eric, the tallest of us and thus unofficial “leader” of the group, got up to answer it.

Before he could even turn the knob, the door exploded open, and six guys stormed in. They were huge—like, NFL linebacker huge. All wearing golden jerseys with a crest I didn’t recognize, but I swear I’d seen before. They had an intimidating presence, like warriors marching into battle.

“Who—who are you?” Eric stammered, backing up as the tallest of them—a guy built like a truck—stepped inside.

“We’re the Golden Army,” the guy growled. “And you’re all about to be brocessed”

“What the hell?” Derek muttered, his glasses slipping down his nose as he looked for somewhere to hide. Joey was frozen in place, clutching his character sheet like it was a life preserver. Scott had already backed up against the wall, hands raised in surrender. And me? I couldn’t move. My heart pounded as if I’d rolled a nat-1 on a saving throw.

“Get the gear,” the leader of the Golden Army barked. One of the guys—a muscular dude with short black hair—opened a duffel bag and tossed something onto the table. Golden jerseys.

“What... what are you doing?” Scott’s voice cracked as the jerseys landed in front of us. They shimmered in the light, catching my eye with an almost hypnotic glow.

“You’re gonna suit up,” another one of them said, smirking. “Or we’ll make you.”

I felt a strange urge as I reached for the jersey in front of me. My mind screamed no, but my body acted on autopilot. I slipped off my button down and pulled the golden jersey over my head. The moment it touched my skin, I felt a jolt—like electricity coursing through my veins.

The room began to spin. My body... it didn’t feel like mine anymore. The tight fabric hugged my chest, arms, and stomach, and I realized I was growing. My muscles were expanding, filling out the jersey as if I had spent years in the gym. My scrawny arms were now thick and solid, and my legs... they bulged with muscle. I could feel power surging through me.

“What the... what’s happening?” I gasped, looking down at my arms in disbelief. My voice sounded deeper, more authoritative.

“You’re part of the Golden Army now,” the leader smirked, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “We’re training for the championship.”

“Championship? What... sport?” Eric asked, his voice thick with confusion.

The leader smirked. “Football.”

I blinked. Football? I hadn’t played since high school, and even then, I was a benchwarmer for the JV team. I never even made it onto the field. But now, standing in this new body, it felt... right. Like I could take on anyone. Like I was born to play.

“I... I don’t know anything about football,” Joey muttered, but even as he said it, I could tell his hands itched to throw a pass. My body was already anticipating the rush of the game. My mind was trying to resist, but it was like the jersey was seeping into my thoughts. Changing me.

“You will,” the leader said, tossing us a football. “Golden Army doesn’t lose. The brocess make sure of that.”

The transformation wasn’t just physical. It was mental, too. As my body transformed, so did my mind. At first, it was subtle—just a heightened awareness of my surroundings, a sharper focus. But then, new thoughts and feelings began to flood in. I started thinking about football in ways I never had before. Plays, tactics, strategies—things I barely understood a few minutes ago suddenly made perfect sense.

The old me was fading away, and in his place, a new Ryan was emerging. This new version of me *knew* how to play football. I could picture myself on the field, reading defenses, making quick decisions, anticipating the moves of the other team. It felt as natural as breathing, like I had been doing it my whole life. The Golden Army had imprinted these skills and knowledge into my brain, reshaping my very identity.

I glanced around the room, watching as the same thing happened to my friends. Scott’s face, once sharp and angular, was now broader, his jawline square and strong. His glasses had been discarded, replaced by eyes that gleamed with a newfound confidence. He flexed his arms, grinning, clearly enjoying his new muscular form. His mind had changed too—I could see it in the way he held the football, like he already knew he was the leader on the field, our quarterback.

Joey, who had always been shy and soft-spoken, was now looking at his reflection in the window, grinning at the sight of his bulked-up body. His usual slouch was gone, replaced by a straight-backed stance that radiated self-assurance. His fingers twitched as if he was itching to catch a pass or make a play. He looked over at us and smirked, as if he had always been a part of this, always belonged here.

Derek, the smallest of us, was perhaps the most drastic transformation. He had gone from being the least athletic among us to one of the most intimidating. His shoulders had broadened, his neck thickened, and his arms were massive now, bulging with muscle that strained against the golden jersey. His usual timid expression was gone, replaced by a fierce determination. I could tell that the mental shift had been even stronger for him. The Derek I knew was quiet, bookish—but now, there was fire in his eyes. He looked ready to bulldoze through anyone in his way.

Even Eric, our Dungeon Master, was no longer the same. The intellectual intensity he’d always carried was still there, but it was tempered with an aggressive edge. His muscles were as big as the rest of ours, and I could see the gears turning in his head, already calculating plays and strategies for our new team.

And me... well, I was fully immersed in this new identity now. The Golden Army had done more than just change my body; they had rewired my brain. My old memories—of late nights rolling dice, debating over character stats—felt distant, like a dream fading in the morning light. In their place were new memories, new desires. The thrill of competition, the rush of adrenaline on the field, the camaraderie of my team—it all felt real, immediate, and, more importantly, right.

I could feel the old Ryan—the one who would rather hide behind a character sheet than step onto a field—slipping away. In his place was a new version of me. Someone who thrived on strength, speed, and competition. Someone who wanted to win, not just in a game of fantasy but in real life. The football field wasn’t just a new battlefield; it was where I belonged.

“Ready to crush it, man?” Scott asked, tossing the football to me.

I caught it effortlessly, my reflexes sharp, my hands steady. The old Ryan would’ve fumbled it, too shocked by everything that had just happened. But the new me? I was ready. I grinned, feeling a surge of confidence I had never known before.

“Yeah,” I said, my voice deeper and more assured. “Let’s go win this thing.”

We weren’t just a bunch of nerds anymore. We were the Golden Army. And there were more nerds waiting to be brocessed.

Here are some of our Golden Team Boxers, modelling for the team photos, and it is another sport we do as part of The Golden Army, all of these boxers are Alphas and always win their matches as their opponents underestimate them.

@toxicafaesthetic

@brodygold

@romangolden68

Come and join us bros or we have other openings like mascot, waterboy etc..so if you want join hmu brahs

Revenge is a dish best served Gold

Part 2

Part 1 here

Where tf was he? I'd texted the little fuck like 20 times for him to come meet me downstairs and he hadn't showed. I'd seen him like sprint up the stairs, prob had lotta drink, but he never drinks not even at home so idek why he would be.

I went back inside, waded through the mass of people still partying and dragged myself up the stairs, swear down I never asking him again like, I aint his babysitter. Walking down the dim hallway I saw one door was ajar, all the others closed, something glinted in the room as I pushed open the door.

Fuck in the bedroom there was this golden figure, slightly taller than me, super muscular and completely covered in gold, kinda weird and freaky but idk it was kinda hot in a way, where tf was Ashton tho? I looked in the ensuite bathroom, nobody. On my way out I saw it, Ashton's hoodie that sleeveless black one he loves just on the floor, his jeans were also there as well as his vans, I checked the shoes, same size, picking up the hoodie it smelled of his Hollister body spray.

It was then my eyes moved to the gold figure, like was this some sick joke he was playing? I reached out slowly and touched its chest, it felt kinda warm, like a body, not something inanimate. I them moved my hand down to its central chest when I felt it... A heartbeat. This thing was alive! Whatever tf it was. I recoiled slowly, clutching Ashton's hoodie as if for protection from this thing, backing up slowly I felt for the door handle and slipped out of the room.

I shakily walked back down the hallway, almost looking over my shoulder, hoping to see Ashton jump out with a shitty grin on his face. I left the party didn't say bye to anyone, all I could think about was what I'd seen and wtf had happened to Ashton, as pathetic as the guy was it bothered me he hadn't replied, he usually replies like right away, and his clothes, next to that thing in the room like it had something to do with me not being able to find him.

I stayed up a little while, looking at my phone every few mins while occasionally taking a swig from the beer I got out the fridge. I'd already checked upstairs and he wasn't there, or in the bathroom, fuck this had me worried.

Eventually after two more beers I had to go to bed, like he's an adult but this aint like him at all, swear god if it turns out he's finally grown a pair and got laid imma actually kill the guy.

I barely slept, when I got up I felt like shit, I checked his room again, empty, downstairs was the same. While I was having coffee all I did was stare at the door.

I waited a bit, but eventually I needed a shower after last night, it might chill me out a bit. During my shower I heard noises in the house, quickly I got myself dried and threw on my stuff, when I went downstairs though that was when I saw him.

'Oye brooo how u sleep, sweet party last night huh?' he spoke in a slightly Spanish sounding accent, deep and masculine 'W-who the fuck are you?!' I stuttered slowly pacing away from this stranger in my living room 'Ey bro don't be like that u know who this is' he pulled on his shoes, gold air force one's matching the Gucci tracksuit he wore 'No s-seriously who tf are you!' I yelled 'Brooo where u been its me ur roomie' Wait... 'Ashton?!' I said wide eyed looking at this guy 'Yeaaa my bro but not Ashton anymore bro, had a lil upgrade yea its Diego now' what happened to him last night, there were a million questions I had 'What tf happened to you, I thought you vanished?' he smiled a cheeky smile 'Nah don't worry bout me my bro I just waiting for my ride, gotta get gym for session, if u wanna come u can, gotta get u some gear tho bro' I shook my head 'What about your clothes?' I reached out and pulled his sleeveless hoodie off the table and offered it to him 'That aint me anymore bro, gotta have the drip yano' he gestured at his Gucci tracksuit 'Oh and nice reaction to me last night bro, you looked so loco' my mind began to piece it together as he got up 'Wait... that was you... the golden statue in the bedroom... wtf was that?' he grinned as he slung his bag over his shoulder 'Like I said broo, lil upgrade, I gotta fly my bro I be back for u later' he then left, I scrambled to the window to see him get in a gold Range Rover waiting outside, the windows were dark so I didn't see who was behind the wheel.

This was crazy, like was I dreaming or high or something like how tf did little scrawny lad from Oklahoma somehow become this masculine, ripped, Hispanic dude wearing all gold, just like the guys at the party last night. I then went upstairs to get changed, I had a peek in his room, it was completely different, kinda dark and moody, football stuff everywhere, gym clothes and weights on the floor. I went in his wardrobe cupboard, it was filled with golden clothes, all typical guys drip, opposite of my style tbh, was all brands id never wear, Nike, Adidas, Gucci etc and a lotta gold trainers.

Hung in pride of place though was a gold football kit, boots as well. It was the same as the ones some guys were wearing at the party last night.

Must be Ashton's or "Diego" was almost as if I could hear his voice again, I pulled it off the hanger, feeling the silky material, 'C'mon my bro give it a try' I heard his voice in the back of my mind 'Trust bro u will love it' I started to strip before I knew what I was doing, pulling my t-shirt off kinda like my mind was phasing. I was about to slip it on when I heard Diego's voice again 'Nah my lil bro gotta do it props' my eyes were drawn to a basket with gold shiny Nike boxers sitting on the top, they looked brand new, fuck they looked hot.

I stepped outta my PJ shorts, even took off my socks before sliding on the boxers, they felt amazing, I loved my vintage stuff man, but fuck these felt so nice. I then put on the shirt, wow surprised it fit me, but it was perfect just like the boxers felt like the fabric glided over my skin like wtaf why did this feel so good, sooo not my sorta outfit.

I the heard Diego again 'Seee my lil bro don't that feel good' I nodded and the voice spoke again 'U gotta complete the look thooo my bro' my eyes looked around and landed on a pair of gold Nike tracksuit pants grabbing them I put them on, wanting to feel more of this stuff on my body almost like my skin was glowing, like a warmth across it. 'Now get some kicks on lil bro' I saw the gold Nike TNs waiting for me and slid my feet into them, only ever wore vintage shoes before these were like release, so comfy and looked so good, 'Now lil bro go check urself out' I slowly stepped towards the mirror in the corner.

This felt so wrong, I couldn't stop wearing it tho it felt so good, Diego looked amazing in his stuff this morning, I wanted to be like him, it was then I heard him 'Oye brooo you like it don't u, u wanna be like ur big bro' I looked at myself in the mirror, wearing this outfit, the image back at me began to distort slightly. Same time I felt the warmth on my skin get more intense, I saw my hair start to change, it got shorter and curlier starting to look like the sorta trim footballer lads have, I started to get nervous, my hair was like one of my best features, I don't wanna lose it 'Nahhh lil bro gotta get u looking like u belong in the kit' I heard Diego's voice again.

I saw my face start to de-age, body get slightly smaller and skin become smoother and tanned, starting to look like I was a teenager 'Lil bro you finally looking like u belong with us' the changes continued in the mirror as the final form took shape.

My reflection now looked like a Hispanic teenage football fan, my reflection grinned back at me looking in my eyes, I was frozen in place seeing those brown eyes look back at me, my eyes, I felt my thoughts starting to rewrite, vintage 70s clothes replaced with shiny gold streetwear and sports kit, drinking with mates replaced with training with bros at the gym, music replaced by football, my eyes started to glaze over as my body started to reshape itself, into a perfect version of my reflection, inside I was screaming but it felt so good inside. My new identity was taking shape in my mind I felt the new me Luis being born outta the old Matty, no longer the 25 year old vintage clothes and music obsessed narcissist, now the teenage football fan, not old enough to join the team yet but in training to follow my brother Diego's footsteps 'Yeeee my brother how's it feel' I replied my accent and voice unrecognisable '¡Órale! Bro this is amazing!' I felt my mind start to focus back as I saw my new self all I could do was grin my dumb face off.

Later on there was a honk outside, it was Diego, he yelled up from the street 'Yooo lil homie get down here got somethin to show!'

Coming out the door I saw it, my older bro, on the hood of his new ride 'It came lil bro finally picked it up what you think?'

'Broo this looks sickkk' I went to check it out with wide eyes, proud of my bro 'Now I aint gotta beg for rides off the team oye?'

This was my life now bros, Matty slowly faded to become a distant memory, maybe once in a while I would see a guy wearing 70s clothes and long hair in my thoughts but these were soon gone, replaced my Luis thoughts bout when my bros next game was, I gotta always watch him and the team play, if he can he always tried get me in the events to meet the bros. Captain Richard said me that when am lil older they gonna get me trained up as one of their new players since my bro says am so good already just gotta improve bro then one day imma be golden just like my idol my big bro Diego.

Seriously bro one day imma play for the team, and I can't wait 💛

You wanna be like Diego and Luis, join up an be part of Golden Army bros 💛💛💛

New tfs in works out soon ;)

Open House, Open Recruitment

A quick rewrite of a story from my old account. Enjoy!

Adam stood in the doorway of the suburban home, surveying the space with a critical eye. It was the perfect listing for a small family—three bedrooms, two bathrooms, a spacious backyard, and situated in a quiet, tree-lined neighborhood. With the open house scheduled for the afternoon, Adam had just a few hours to ensure everything was in perfect order.

As he moved through the house, checking details and tidying up, he noticed a box tucked away in the closet of the master bedroom. The plain cardboard exterior piqued his curiosity. It seemed out of place in the otherwise well-kept room. Adam hesitated only for a moment before pulling it out and placing it on the bed.

Opening the box, he found its contents unexpected—a single, gleaming golden suit, with a matching dress shirt and tie folded neatly on top, and beneath it, several golden soccer jerseys. The suit was extraordinary. It shimmered under the soft bedroom light, catching his eye with its luxurious sheen. Adam reached out, his fingers brushing the fabric. It felt almost alive, inviting him to touch it further.

He couldn’t resist the pull. He shrugged off his blazer and tie, unbuttoning his shirt with growing excitement. The moment he slipped the golden jacket over his shoulders and pulled the tie up to his throat, he felt a warmth spread through his body, like an electric current buzzing through his veins. He paused for a moment, looking at himself in the mirror. His breath caught in his throat as the transformation began.

His light brown hair deepened slightly, and his skin took on a rich, golden-bronze hue. His features sharpened—his jawline stronger, his beard growing in full and neatly trimmed. His eyes shifted from their usual blue to a striking, vivid amber. The real estate agent from Connecticut was gone, replaced by someone who commanded attention. The suit seemed to fit perfectly, hugging his transformed physique like it had been tailored just for him.

He wasn’t Adam anymore. He was Richard—the captain of the Golden Army. The memories of Adam’s life felt distant, almost irrelevant, as thoughts of leading a powerful, unified team filled his mind. The Golden Army was more than just a soccer team; it was a brotherhood, a way of life that demanded strength, loyalty, and unity.

Richard’s eyes moved from his reflection back to the box. Below the golden suit were several jerseys, identical to the ones worn by his teammates—bright, golden soccer jerseys. These weren’t ordinary uniforms; they represented belonging, purpose. The suit had been meant for him alone, but the jerseys—those were for others. He realized that today wasn’t just about selling a house. He had a greater mission now. And he knew just how to do it.