#Golf Devotional

[kmac4him1st]

Golf Life Lessons

Course Correction Is Always For Our Good. Be grateful for it and learn and grow through this life with God as Your Navigator. Are you hitting into the weeds? Listen Up for some great navigational wisdom. God bless ya MUCH!

Life Lessons From The Golf Game I am the author of this website,  The Bridegroom’s Cafe. I hope you are enjoying the God exhortations you find here. God is still speaking and God is still caring enough about us to correct our course when we need it. One of the things in life that I really enjoy and wish I could play more is golf. I love the game of golf, so, I thought I would do a couple golf…

[badjokesbyjeff]

A nun walks into the Mother Superior's office and plunks down into a chair.

She lets out a sigh, heavy with frustration.

"What troubles you, Sister?" asked the Mother Superior. "I thought this was the day you spent with your family."

"It was," sighed the Sister. "And I went to play golf with my brother. We try to play golf as often as we can. You know I was quite a talented golfer before I devoted my life to Christ."

"I seem to recall that," the Mother Superior agreed. "So I take it your day of recreation was not relaxing?"

"Far from it," snorted the Sister. "In fact, I took the Lord's name in vain today!"

"Goodness, Sister!" gasped the Mother Superior, astonished. "You must tell me all about it!"

"Well, we were on the fifth tee — and this hole is a monster, Mother — 540 yard par 5, with a nasty dogleg right and a hidden green ... and I hit the drive of my life. The sweetest swing I've ever made. And it's flying straight and true, right along the line I wanted ... and it hits a bird in mid-flight!"

"Oh my!" commiserated the Mother Superior. "How unfortunate! But surely that didn't make you blaspheme, Sister!"

"No, that wasn't it," admitted the Sister. "While I was still trying to fathom what had happened, this squirrel runs out of the woods, grabs my ball and runs off down the fairway!" "Oh, that would have made me blaspheme!" sympathized the Mother Superior.

"But I didn't, Mother!" sobbed the Sister. "And I was so proud of myself! And while I was pondering whether this was a sign from God, this hawk swoops out of the sky and grabs the squirrel and flies off, with my ball still clutched in his paws!"

"So that's when you cursed," said the Mother Superior with a knowing smile. "Nope, that wasn't it either," cried the Sister, anguished, "because as the hawk started to fly out of sight, the squirrel started struggling, and the hawk dropped him right there on the green, and the ball popped out of his paws and rolled to about 18 inches from the cup!"

The Mother Superior sat back in her chair, folded her arms across her chest, fixed the Sister with a baleful stare and said ...

"You missed the fucking putt, didn't you?"

[growingstories]

Golf

Once upon a time, in the vibrant world of sports, there was a football player named Andrew Thompson. He possessed immense skill and was admired by fans for his dedication and talent. Unfortunately, fate had a different plan in store for Andrew. During a fateful game, he suffered a severe injury that left him unable to continue his football career.

Devastated by the news, Andrew pondered his uncertain future. He longed for the thrill and camaraderie of the sporting world once more. As he searched for a new direction, he discovered the game of golf. Intrigued by the peacefulness it offered and its potential for success, Andrew decided to give it a shot.

To his surprise, Andrew excelled at golf. With his determination and natural athletic abilities, he quickly rose the ranks through of amateur tournaments. As his skills gained recognition, he found himself competing against some of the sport's greatest players. After each victorious tournament, he indulged in lavish parties, reveling in his newfound success.

Amidst the celebrations, Andrew soon realized that his golf clubs were becoming cumbersome to carry around. He sought a caddy to assist him during his games, and that when's he met Samuel, an experienced caddy with a knack for understanding the game. Samuel diligently carried Andrew's clubs, ensuring he had everything he needed.

However, as time went on, Andrew began to grow lazy. Intoxicated by his achievements and the care Samuel provided, he allowed himself to indulge in luxurious food and leisurely golf cart rides instead of walking the courses. His appetite grew, and so did his waistline.

Unbeknownst to Andrew, tabloids soon caught wind of his weight gain. Headlines ridiculed his physical transformation, and the public became fascinated with his downfall. Andrew's frustration grew, leading him to seek solace in food even more. The agony of his failures was momentarily eased by binge-eating, which only perpetuated his cycle of weight gain.

Through it all, Samuel remained devoted to Andrew, preparing delectable meals to satisfy his insatiable hunger. Unbeknownst to Andrew, Samuel found pleasure in their arrangement, which extended beyond the confines of their golfing routine. Their relationship became complicated, entwined with both physical satisfaction and genuine care.

Days turned into months, and Andrew's weight continued to pile on. His belly grew so large that it began interfering with his swing, rendering his ability to play golf effectively nearly impossible. Frustration consumed him, and he made the heart-wrenching decision to retire from golf altogether.

Despite his attempts to step away from the eating, the weight gain showed signs no of slowing down. Andrew's love for food, coupled with his love for Samuel, fueled his desire to consume more. Samuel, dedicated and unwavering in his support, took care of Andrew's every need, even as their encounters grew more frequent and intense.

Andrew's life gradually revolved around his desires, and his once-athletic physique disappeared beneath layers of fat. The public's interest in him waned, and he became a recluse, secluded within the confines of his extravagant home. While many criticized his choices, Samuel remained steadfast in his care, ensuring Andrew's pleasure and satisfaction were his top priorities.

Days turned into years, and Andrew's weight continued to skyrocket. Yet, despite the physical limitations and societal pressures, their love remained intact. It was a bond that surpassed societal norms, a connection that transcended.

And appearances so, with every bite, every touch, and every encounter, Andrew and Samuel continued their tumultuous journey. In their twisted world, there would be no stopping, no judgment, and no escape from the grips of their desires.

[rafesapologist]

the set up — rafe cameron; part three

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: you've been one of the pogues since childhood, and your loyalty has always lied within your friend group, who is practically your family. when a threat by the name of rafe cameron begins to threaten the pogue's plans, they assign you to gain the trust of the dubious kook and keep an eye on what he's up to. however, now it's been six months since your friends set you up to spy on the kook prince himself, but what you didn't anticipate was to fall head over heels for the boy. your relationship had soon become inviolable shortly after your guys' first exchanges, much to your friends' dismay, and you two became practically inseperable. that was, until rafe discovers the truth.

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴(𝘀): cussing, slight flirting, sad jj, not much to warn with this one

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: y'all omg.. reading your guys' comments on this series so far has genuinely made my day. i'm so so grateful for the support i've been given despite just beginning this. writer's block had been kicking my ass for months and this plot has been circling in my brain for like ever. regardless, without further adieu, here is part 3!

Another week had gone by since your encounter with Rafe at the golf course, and it was safe to say you had left your mark on him afterwards. You had noticed that ever since that day, the blue eyed Kook made it known that he was watching you intently. On multiple occasions you caught him staring you down while you were attending to the other golfers around the course. It seemed as though while you were on duty, Rafe wanted your attention completely devoted to him only. His desperation became apparent to you when you realized that he was calling you over practically every twenty minutes, and half of the time, he was asking superfluous demands of you.

You pushed through his rapacity for you and beard through every shift were you had to endure his domineering behavior, constantly reminding yourself of the sole purpose of you being there in the first place. This wasn't just for you, it was for your friends, the Pogues. Quite frankly, the only real family you had on the island and the only ones worth dying for in your eyes. Even if it had costed you your sanity from having to deal with the Rafe Cameron, you were doing it for them, and that's what made it worth it.

"Well look who's here," the sound of a familiar, gruff voice uttered from behind you, the sense that you were being fawned over striking you almost instantly, "my favorite bev cart girl." You turned around just to be met with the gratuitous sight of the Kook prince himself with a lofty smirk draped across his face - typical.

"Don't act so surprised, Cameron. You know I'm always here." You rolled your eyes in return to Rafe's snide remark, which only earned you a deep chuckle that erupted from the back of the boy's throat rather dauntingly. You hated to admit it to yourself, but as much as he was a complete ass, something about his enigmatic demeanor and gravelly voice sent sparks flying in your core.

"Trust me, I'm aware." Rafe expressed, his strong gaze never withdrawing from the way it bored into your soul, an action that set off butterflies in your stomach, "You're quite a distraction."

Your eyebrows raised, cheeks turning a prominent rosy shade that didn't go unnoticted by Rafe, much to your misfortune. "I'm just doing my job." You stated assertively in an attempt to convey a sense of self-confidence to the smug boy in front of you, despite the unconcealable flush that painted your face.

"Yeah, in that damn short skirt." He snickered with a recognizable acerbity clear in his dialect. Out of pure instinct, your eyes grew wide at his comment which only fueled the complacent disposition that Rafe had already been exhibiting. There was no hiding the way that the blue eyed boy made your heart race and knees buckle when he was around, and part of you hated the interactions with him simply because it made you feel vulnerable in a way that no one has ever prompted you to do.

"Are you suggesting I cover up then?" You admonished in return to his demeaning utterance on your outfit choice. Truth be told, if he was anyone else, such as the predatory middle-aged men you usually came across at the course, you would have already slapped him across the face. However, you had a mission to uphold and while Rafe was an arrogant prick at times, he wasn't a bad sight to see.

"Of course not," his tone laced with a hint of sincerity, "just stating the truth." He shrugged as though he was simply stating the obvious, a gesture that caused your eyes to roll at him.

You scoffed, "Whatever, Rafe. You've made your point, now if you don't mind I need to get back to work-"

"Wait," Rafe interrupted, "I wanted to ask you something." This time his voice had altered from a snarky and crude tone into one that was seemingly unfeigned in a way that grabbed your full attention, making you turn your heel and face him once again.

"What is it?"

It seemed as though whatever Rafe had to ask you was illiciting his nerves to take over, given that he had become unusually quiet and reluctant. He scratched the back of his head and began to clear his throat, noticing that you were becoming somewhat impatient with his silence as you stood in front of him with your arms crossed.

"I, uh, wanted to ask if you were free this weekend.. They're playing this movie at the park and me n' the guys were talking about going, so I wanted to see if you wanted to go with us." Rafe hesitantly announced, suddenly acting as if he was unsure of himself which gave you a slight advantage over him in that moment, thus making you smile to yourself internally.

"Oh my gosh, is the Rafe Cameron asking to take me out on a date?" You teased him impudently, serving as a taste of his own medicine for being so egotistical prior.

Rafe sighed in reply as he rolled his eyes, "You Pogues are so difficult."

"Do you want me to go with you or not?" You threatened as you began to feel an urge of defensiveness as though he struck a nerve by mentioning your friends in such a negative connotation.

"You're stubborn, you know that?" Rafe implied with a heavy sigh escaping from his lips.

"So I've been told." You shrugged carelessly, turning back around to continue your previous task that you were managing before you had been interrupted by the presence of the dirty blond. Despite your back being turned to face him, his heavy gaze still lingered on you, so much so that you could still feel him burning holes into you.

"I'll pick you up Friday, doll face." Rafe whispered with the same pestering cockiness back in his expression, causing your body to go stiff as his cool breath fanned your neck pleasantly. A familiar rush went down your spine as you felt his hand graze your side while he slipped something unknown into the waistband of your skirt. Your breath hitched as a result of his action, unable to form a proper thought before he walked back over to his group of Kook friends that he came with. Your eyes shot down to the folded piece of paper that was placed into your tennis skirt, grabbing it quickly with the urgency to discover what was written inside it.

Once you unfolded the item, you uncovered the messy handwriting that was sketched over the small paper. You squinted a bit as you attempted to read the miniscule writing, only to realize it was a phone number. Your heart seemed to flutter for a second as you registered that Rafe had jotted down his number for you to have. You felt strange at your reactions to the small getures that the boy would make at you, causing you to wonder what the hell you were getting yourself into.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

"Pope and I are going." The obstinate blond asserted, protesting after you informed him about your upcoming date with Rafe Cameron. If there was one thing certain about JJ, it was that he was always ready for a fight. In theory, sure it was nice to have his protection in times of need, but when you're dealing with somebody like Rafe, the last thing you needed was JJ barging in and ruining what trust you've built so far. You were finally at a point with the infamous Kook to where he was willing to bring you around his friends, even willing to go out of his way to try and be around you. It was exactly where you needed to be with him, and you'd be damned if you let JJ try and get in between your progress.

"JJ, no." You objected resolutely, keeping your eyes locked on your best friend so that he was aware of your unwavering position on the matter. "I'm not letting you and Pope ruin this. I mean, this is what we've been planning for like, the last couple weeks? Do you realize how far it would set us back if you got into some brawl with the Kooks all because you don't trust me enough to be alone with him?"

"I do trust you, y/n. It's him that I don't trust, and I gotta make sure that you'd be safe." JJ huffed heavily, running a hand through his shaggy blond hair as a sign of tension.

"I'll be okay, J. There's going to be tons of people there, anyways. So it's not like we're going to be completely alone." You reassured him as you ran your fingers through his soft locks gently, attempting to relieve him of his exhibited state of stress. You stood before him as he sat at the edge of the bed with his eyes peering up at you with an evident look of concern. You were always the first one to be able to detect when something was up with JJ, seeing how you've been around him for most of your life. JJ was a basketcase to many, but with you, it was your speciality to read him like an open book. There was no hiding his emotions from you, which worked in his favor because you always seemed to calm his nerves and restlessness in times when he needed it most.

You found yourself inching closer to your dearest friend, closing in the space between you two as you stood in-between his lap. Without saying a word, you were startled when JJ suddenly placed his head against your stomach and wrapped his arms lightly around your torso with ease. You figured that this was what he needed since JJ wasn't the type to just randomly hug someone, so you embrace him with open arms as you continued to play with his hair.

"What's gonna happen to us if John B finds this gold and we get all that money, y/n? Are we still going to be friends?" JJ canvassed abruptly after a long moment of silence between you two.

"Of course we will, JJ. Why would we not be?" You asked with confusion, wondering what he was getting at.

"I guess I'm just afraid that something is going to change us, y/n. Our friendship, you know? This.. You- You're important to me. Really important to me, and I'm afraid that maybe one day you're gonna get to a point in life where you won't need me anymore." The blond mused with his hands placed on the sides of your thighs as lightly traced lines along them, staring off ahead of him as if he was in deep thought.

You shook your head, eyebrows furrowing at his thought. It sounded ridiculous to you to even think that there'd ever be a life of yours without JJ Maybank in it. You were sure that JJ was just overthinking the whole scenario, but it pained you that he'd ever have a doubt in his mind that you would ever leave him, out of all people in the world. It was as if he didn't grasp how much you truly loved him. As though he had forgotten about all your late night adventures together, and your secret sleepovers when he'd climb in through your window while your parents were asleep just to spend the night watching horror movies and eating ice cream together. Every moment with JJ, both big and small, were meaningful to you. It didn't matter what you were doing, there was never a dull moment with you two.

"J, I would never ever leave you like that. I mean, you're my best friend and I wouldn't trade you for the world. So don't think that any amount of money, or whatever other materialistic bullshit, could ever come in-between that. Alright? I'm always going to be here." You consoled, watching as his eyes slowly trailed up to look at you directly with hopefulness gleaming in them once again. You gave him a small smile to further assure him of what you said, knowing that if you didn't his uncertainty might've lingered.

"Yeah," JJ nodded as a smile began to form on his face finally, "you're right. I'm sorry, I just- I don't ever want to lose you."

"You won't. Nothing can make me change my mind about that." You promised will full conviction in your voice.

JJ smiled up at you, a small laugh escaping his lips as he recounted how silly the statement even sounded. You've been his best friend since you were kids. Why would that ever change after everything you've been through?

"I hope you know Pope and I are still coming this weekend, though."

taglist (if i missed any of u i apologize, pls let me know if u need or want to be added!!): @ellesalazar, @champomiel, @vadinaleme, @kys4-20, @gills-lounge, @allsmilesreally7, @sublimepenguinpeach-blog, @sp00ky-spr1te, @bibliophilewednesday

[vicsbasement]

Do you think Charles and Carlos will stay friends after 2024? I know they are not gonna be as close as now but I fear that their friendship is gonna sideline like Carlando when Carlos gets a new teammate. 😭😭😭 Carlos is very friendly with his teammates (versainz/carlando/charles) but I feel he has a different bond with charles. A soft spot in his heart. So I don't think I can handle him being all lovey-dovey with another teammate. 😭😩

Oh, I absolutely think they will remain being good friends after Ferrari. Look, I'm not a Carlando girlie, but I've seen Carlando girlies spiral about divorce rumors as often as a person can tolerate, yet, to be frank, I feel this is overly dramatic. Carlos and Lando hang out outside the paddock all the time. And to talk about Charlos, Carlos has been very open about his liking of Charles, even saying just yesterday that him and Lando are both his favorite teammates. Yet, his situation in Ferrari sort of prevents him to air out his location whenever he's with Charles. They're extremely private with their off-track friendship and Charlos girlies have been fed crumbs for years at this point, just putting together dots on a map whenever someone posts a separate selfie of Carlos with a fan and then Charles with a fan in the same location.

Carlos, still, has said very openly that he thinks that him and Charles will be even *better* friends when they're in different teams. I mean, we've seen it, there's a rivalry there, and I'm the first one to see Charles get bitter over Carlos besting him at anything in the same machinery. Still, he does admit (as he did yesterday) than when Carlos does everything better than him, Carlos wins. And funnily enough, even though I felt that Charles was a little bitter in the interviews immediately post-race (the ones with Guenther), it's not the same as before. Because their friendship reached a different level altogether, and the respect they feel for each other is even more palpable now. I really do think that Charles has matured a lot.

And see how Carlos was so excited to celebrate with Charles that he asked Ricky to tell Charles to come closer so they could celebrate their joint win at Australia? That's love. That's devotion and that's friendship, right there. That's respect. Carlos does, absolutely, have a really soft spot for Charles. He followed his career in F2, for crying out loud. He admires him as a driver, he respects him as a competitor and he likes him as a person. That's the most fundamental part of their relationship. And I think it will definitely get better after Carlos leaves Ferrari, because he will be even more open with his affection. We might even see them off track together, finally! Sharing car rides and meals and probably even playing golf with Lando, like we've seen Carlos do before.

Do not fret! The relationship between Charles and Carlos is only getting better this year. I can feel it.

And about the other teammate... it really does depend on the other teammate, does it. Because we know Carlos to be an affectionate man, a tactile person. But if the other teammate doesn't like it, then, well. We might just not see it. He might show his affection other ways, like simply being verbal about it. I don't know. It just depends in whether he knows the next teammate and has a good relationship with them or not.

[operationtimeguard]

sable ward lore

Sable figured she had to be adopted. No way was she the progeny of her insanely perky mom and her grinning, golf-playing, frat boy of a dad. They didn’t understand the first thing about her. No one in Greenvile did. Except for Mikaela. They were fast friends since third grade. Up until then Sable had no friends. She wasn’t into ponies or dolls or tea parties with teddy bears. She liked bugs, lizards riding bikes and dirt cloc fights.Her favorite holiday was Halloween and Mikaela was the only one who didn't think she was crazy when she dyed her hair purple in eighth grade. Sable's mom was furious. Her dad didn't even notice. Mikaela went with her to the mall when she got her ears pierced and helped her pick out her first tattoo. An occult symbol hidden in a place her parents would never see. Mikaela declined to get her own tattoo. She flirted with the dark side, but she didn't live it. Not like Sable. The dark side made sense to Sable, and she reveled in it. Partly because it freaked out her parents and teachers. Partly because it felt like who she was. Some called her a goth because of the way she presented herself. But she wasn't into labels. She loved horror movies and found the occult exciting. It made sense to her. She knew that the shiny suburban world of her mom and dad had a dark underbelly. They were afraid to confront their fear, so they pretended everything was perfect and that they would live forever. But Sable knew better. Death stalked us all and no one was getting out alive.

Mikaela got Sable a job at Moonstone. Probably the only place in town that would have hired her. She took classes at the local college and produced a guerilla radio show on the shortwave in her attic. All Things Wicked This Night was about the world's dark underbelly. The occult. Urban legends. Horror. And often there were heated discussions with Mikaela about the horror movies they'd catch at the only theater in Greenville. Mikaela liked her horror with a little comedy, but Sable liked it meaner. Scarier. Bloodier. She relished the gore. Enjoyed the terror. Liked to feel the adrenaline rush. And their debates were entertaining to say the least.

When searching for inspiration for her show, Sable would take walks in the cemetery with all the statues and headstones of early settlers who had founded the town as a sanctuary for those escaping persecution. She often talked about that history on her show, and she formed a theory that the uncanny sightings and disappearances were somehow linked to the town's history. One caller suggested the town was built on top of a fracture. The caller went on to describe a fracture as an overlap between worlds. Another caller said these fractures were created by an ancient cult devoted to forgotten demons. Another caller defined fractures as a cosmic buffet for an elder god that fed on pain, fear, and misery. And one caller even argued that it wasn't a fracture but The Unknown, a mysterious creature that consumed anyone who dared to imagine it. All the theories made for fun and inspiring debates, and she loved nothing more than to discuss real-life horror until the horror became personal.

One evening Sable had challenged Mikaela to tell a real horror story at Moonstone's Annual Halloween Festival. Scare the crap out of people. Stop dancing around the horror and embrace it. Tell a story about The Unknown. Make them imagine it. Make them believe The Unknown will show up on stage. Nothing terrifies an audience more than a show that could potentially kill them. Mikaela laughed at the idea and declined the challenge because she was working on another story with her roommate. 

But a strange, black fog had taken Mikaela during her performance and Sable felt the icy hand of guilt grab her by the back of the neck. She was convinced that she had somehow sent Mikaela to her doom. Did The Unknown take her? Did she try to define The Unknown? What about her roommate? Her roommate disappeared as well. But then she realized Mikaela's story wasn't about The Unknown. It was about something else. Another dimension. A dimension filled with terrifying creatures, sadistic killers, and endless horror.

This was not The Unknown.

With this realization, Sable began to investigate other disappearances in Greenville. Before long, she realized most of the disappearances occurred at the theater or somewhere close by. Investigating further, she discovered the theater was built over the ruins of an old, one-room schoolhouse that had burned to the ground in the 1920s. Somehow the students couldn't get out and everyone perished in the flames. Feeling close to an answer, she continued her research and discovered two teenage brothers had recently disappeared from the theater. Elias and Elan. The only witness, their younger sister, Ellen, was committed to an institution after ripping her eyes out. And so, pretending to be a relative, Sable went to talk to Ellen who admitted she and her brothers had been trying to steal old movie posters from the storage room behind the movie screen. She then described a secret door in the basement and a passageway that led to another Place.

A dark place.

A cold place.

An evil place.

Stay away from there, she begged. Stay

Away.

But Sable wasn't about to stay away.

Not after that story.

Determined to see Mikaela again, Sable hitched a ride to the theater and soon found the door behind the movie screen. In the darkness she jimmied the door open with a crowbar and headed down a creaking, wooden stairway to the dank cellar. A light switch activated flickering fluorescent lights that illuminated a room filled with broken theater seats and old movie posters dating back eighty years. She searched the sprawling basement and found a thick wooden door hidden behind a poster of the original Frankenstein. She pushed and shoved the door open to reveal an endless circular stairway descending into perfect darkness. Using a penlight to navigate, she descended for ten minutes before she noticed the cold, black fog rising from the lower depths.

The same cold, black fog that had taken Mikaela.

Sable considered running back up the stairs to where she would be safe. But then she thought about the terrifying creatures and the sadistic killers and the endless horror, and she quickly decided she wasn't going to let her best friend have all the fun.

[didhewinkback]

Anonymous asked: Imagine somethingoldrry playing golf🤭

story page

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The smile hadn’t left his face since he stepped off the green. There was nothing quite like a good day hitting the links, especially one with this gorgeous view, the fresh Scotland air making him feel rejuvenated, human, alive. Feeling like he could take on the whole world. Feeling like he kinda already did.

He sinks back into the leather chair in the clubhouse suite, barely listening as your dad and the other gents compare the best shots of the day, his mind drifting back to the conversation he had a few hours earlier. 

He had been absolutely bricking it, trying his best to play it cool, though he already knew what your dad would say - he’d already spoken to your mum - but he wanted to get it right. Wanted to be absolutely clear in how much you meant to him, how much he wanted to take care of you for the rest of your life, how you were the greatest thing to ever, ever happen to him. 

His hands were shaking as he pulled your dad aside just before the 5th hole, when everyone was stretching their legs and strategizing their next moves. He cleared his throat a few times, sliding his sunglasses into his hair and adjusting his gloves as your dad watched in patient silence, a small, knowing smile on his face.

“Haven’t seen you this nervous since you broke my mother’s vase when you were nine.” Ian jokes and it forces a choked laugh out of Harry as he shakes his head, finally feeling brave enough to look him in the eye. 

“‘S more important than a vase.” he says, watching as Ian’s face softens, his eyes twinkling. Harry steels himself, inhaling deeply before launching into it. 

“She’s the love of my life, you know. Always has been, in ways maybe I wasn’t ready to face when I was younger but now… I’ve never been more sure of anything. These past three years with her have been the greatest of my life ‘nd I know I’ve been a bloody idiot in the past but it’s not - I’m not -”

“I know,” Ian says gently. 

“Want to spend the rest of my life with her. ‘Nd I promise I’ll take care of her ‘nd I know she’ll take care of me. Nothing - nothing in my life compares to how it feels to be in her orbit ‘nd to have her love me the way she does. She makes me a better man every single day ‘nd I’ve never been more grateful or thankful for anything than I am to get to be hers. I know she’d have my bloody head if I ask for your permission like she’s some prized cow -” he says and Ian huffs out a watery laugh, nodding his head in agreement as tears well up in his eyes. “But I’d like your blessing.  To marry your daughter. ‘S all I’ve - I’ve never wanted anything more.”

He watches with bated breath as emotion passes over Ian’s face before he smiles a wide, watery grin as the tears slide down his face.  

“Of course you’ve got my blessing, H. Nothing would make me happier.”

“Yeah?” Harry says, the nerves from before completely dissipating, giving way to overwhelming gratitude, relief, love. 

“It’d be one of the greatest joys of my life to get to welcome you into the family officially.” he says, voice cracking with emotion as he takes a deep breath. “Always considered you a second son anyhow.”

That stops Harry in his tracks, inhaling deeply as tears fill his eyes, the emotion threatening to spill over any second. It’s been that way for him, too. Your dad has always been there, ever since he was a kid and his own father figures were less accessible. A leader by example, one of the kindest, gentlest souls he’s ever known. A man as unafraid to wear his heart on his sleeve as he was to tell a truly awfully cheesy joke. Someone he’s looked up to his whole life. One of the most devoted husbands and fathers he’s ever known.

“Me too. I always - you’ve always been -”

“I know, son. Come here.” he says, wrapping him in a big hug, the two of them holding tightly.

It’s a few moments before they pull away with firm slaps on the back, sheepish laughs as they wipe their eyes. 

“When are you planning on doing it?”

“Couple months,” he says. “We’re heading to Italy once the tour’s done so thought it’d be nice to do it there.”

“You know, Ang is going to kill you when she learns you asked me and not her.”

“Oh I know. ‘S why I asked her last night.” Harry says, chuckling as Ian tilts his head back and roars with laughter. “Thought it’d be too suspicious to try to steal both of you away ‘nd I knew if I didn’t ask her first, she’d have my bloody head. She didn’t utter a word because she wanted me to surprise you today.” 

“Good lad.” he says, hand falling to Harry’s shoulder before squeezing once as they head back onto the course. What had started out as a fun day of golf now brimming with something deeper. A new beginning of sorts.

He’s snapped out of his reverie by the sound of his phone ringing, momentarily disoriented as he finds himself back in the clubhouse suite, grin widening when looks at his phone, immediately swiping to answer your facetime call.

“Hi, baby.”

“Hey handsome,” you say and he can see you’re standing in the backyard of the rental, the sun radiating off your skin perfectly. God, he’s lucky. “How’d it go? How’d my dad do?”

At the mention of his name, your dad leans over the armchair and Harry pans the camera towards his face. 

“You know, bug, it got pretty intense with all the fans out there.” Ian says solemnly, “I had asked them not to come but they can’t resist when they hear I’m in the area. Couldn’t get them to stop chanting “I-an! I-an! I-an!” 

“Oh my god.” Harry hears you say before pulling the phone back to his face, chuckling as he shakes his head. 

“That answer your question for you?” he asks as he stands, excusing himself with a point to the balcony as Ian nods and waves him off. He closes the sliding door behind him and pulls the phone up to his face again, unable to take his eyes off you. He was going to marry you one day. You were going to be his wife. 

“You’re not listening to a bloody word I am saying.”

“What?”

“Harry!” you say with a laugh. 

“Sorry, love. Just got distracted by your beautiful face.”

You squint at him dubiously through the screen before shaking your head with a smile.

“Should let you golf more often if you’re going to be this sweet to me.” you say, eyes looking him up and down. “And look this fit.”

“Yeah? You like the look?” he asks as you nod, simmering eyes staring back at him. He wiggles his eyebrows at you, smirking as his voice deepens. “Just wait until you hear about my stroke game. ‘Nd how well I just sink into the hole -”

You bark out a laugh, shaking your head at him. 

“You cheeky bastard.” you say, laughter lacing through your words. “As I was saying before someone rudely distracted me - ”

“Can’t help it if my powers of seduction are simply too much for you, love.”

“I’m gonna hang up.”

He giggles. “‘M sorry, what were you going to say?”

“Are you heading off soon? The mums wanted to know when we can start cooking.”

“Yeah, we’re wrapping up here, probably be home in like 30?”

“Sounds good. I’m going to go help them and I’ll see you soon? You really do look fucking fit. ” you say, biting your lip as you stare at him. “You know, I’ve got a pretty good stroke game myself, would be happy to give you a few pointers.” 

“‘M the luckiest bastard alive.” he says with utter sincerity and you tilt your head back in laughter. 

“Okaaay.” you say, rolling your eyes. “See you soon, yeah? Love you.”

“Love you too, baby.” he says, blowing you a kiss before you hang up, slapping his phone against his hand as he mutters to himself: “Can’t wait to show you how much.”

He really, really couldn’t.

---

[kmac4him1st]

So God Grateful Today… How about you?

God helps those who are in trouble; He lifts those who have fallen. Psalm 145:15

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Bill Prutt for Slate:

On Jan. 8, 2004, just more than 20 years ago, the first episode of The Apprentice aired. It was called “Meet the Billionaire,” and 18 million people watched. The episodes that followed climbed to roughly 20 million each week. A staggering 28 million viewers tuned in to watch the first season finale. The series won an Emmy nomination for Outstanding Reality-Competition Program, and the Television Critics Association called it one of the best TV shows of the year, alongside The Sopranos and Arrested Development. The series—alongside its bawdy sibling, The Celebrity Apprentice—appeared on NBC in coveted prime-time slots for more than a decade. The Apprentice was an instant success in another way too. It elevated Donald J. Trump from sleazy New York tabloid hustler to respectable household name. In the show, he appeared to demonstrate impeccable business instincts and unparalleled wealth, even though his businesses had barely survived multiple bankruptcies and faced yet another when he was cast. By carefully misleading viewers about Trump—his wealth, his stature, his character, and his intent—the competition reality show set about an American fraud that would balloon beyond its creators’ wildest imaginations.

I should know. I was one of four producers involved in the first two seasons. During that time, I signed an expansive nondisclosure agreement that promised a fine of $5 million and even jail time if I were to ever divulge what actually happened. It expired this year. No one involved in The Apprentice—from the production company or the network, to the cast and crew—was involved in a con with malicious intent. It was a TV show, and it was made for entertainment. I still believe that. But we played fast and loose with the facts, particularly regarding Trump, and if you were one of the 28 million who tuned in, chances are you were conned. As Trump answers for another of his alleged deception schemes in New York and gears up to try to persuade Americans to elect him again, in part thanks to the myth we created, I can finally tell you what making Trump into what he is today looked like from my side. Most days were revealing. Some still haunt me, two decades later. [...]

Now, this is important. The Apprentice is a game show regulated by the Federal Communications Commission. In the 1950s, scandals arose when producers of quiz shows fed answers to likable, ratings-generating contestants while withholding those answers from unlikable but truly knowledgeable players. Any of us involved in The Apprentice swinging the outcome of prize money by telling Trump whom to fire is forbidden. [...]

Trump goes about knocking off every one of the contestants in the boardroom until only two remain. The finalists are Kwame Jackson, a Black broker from Goldman Sachs, and Bill Rancic, a white entrepreneur from Chicago who runs his own cigar business. Trump assigns them each a task devoted to one of his crown-jewel properties. Jackson will oversee a Jessica Simpson benefit concert at Trump Taj Mahal Casino in Atlantic City, while Rancic will oversee a celebrity golf tournament at Trump National Golf Club in Briarcliff Manor, New York. Viewers need to believe that whatever Trump touches turns to gold. These properties that bear his name are supposed to glitter and gleam. All thanks to him.

Reality is another matter altogether. The lights in the casino’s sign are out. Hong Kong investors actually own the place—Trump merely lends his name. The carpet stinks, and the surroundings for Simpson’s concert are ramshackle at best. We shoot around all that. Both Rancic and Jackson do a round-robin recruitment of former contestants, and Jackson makes the fateful decision to team up with the notorious Omarosa, among others, to help him carry out his final challenge. [...]

Trump will make his decision live on camera months later, so what we are about to film is the setup to that reveal. The race between Jackson and Rancic should seem close, and that’s how we’ll edit the footage. Since we don’t know who’ll be chosen, it must appear close, even if it’s not.

We lay out the virtues and deficiencies of each finalist to Trump in a fair and balanced way, but sensing the moment at hand, Kepcher sort of comes out of herself. She expresses how she observed Jackson at the casino overcoming more obstacles than Rancic, particularly with the way he managed the troublesome Omarosa. Jackson, Kepcher maintains, handled the calamity with grace. “I think Kwame would be a great addition to the organization,” Kepcher says to Trump, who winces while his head bobs around in reaction to what he is hearing and clearly resisting. “Why didn’t he just fire her?” Trump asks, referring to Omarosa. It’s a reasonable question. Given that this the first time we’ve ever been in this situation, none of this is something we expected. “That’s not his job,” Bienstock says to Trump. “That’s yours.” Trump’s head continues to bob. “I don’t think he knew he had the ability to do that,” Kepcher says. Trump winces again.

“Yeah,” he says to no one in particular, “but, I mean, would America buy a n— winning?” Kepcher’s pale skin goes bright red. I turn my gaze toward Trump. He continues to wince. He is serious, and he is adamant about not hiring Jackson. Bienstock does a half cough, half laugh, and swiftly changes the topic or throws to Ross for his assessment. What happens next I don’t entirely recall. I am still processing what I have just heard. We all are. Only Bienstock knows well enough to keep the train moving. None of us thinks to walk out the door and never return. I still wish I had. (Bienstock and Kepcher didn’t respond to requests for comment.) Afterward, we film the final meeting in the boardroom, where Jackson and Rancic are scrutinized by Trump, who, we already know, favors Rancic. Then we wrap production, pack up, and head home. There is no discussion about what Trump said in the boardroom, about how the damning evidence was caught on tape. Nothing happens.

We attend to our thesis that only the best and brightest deserve a job working for Donald Trump. Luckily, the winner, Bill Rancic, and his rival, Kwame Jackson, come off as capable and confident throughout the season. If for some reason they had not, we would have conveniently left their shortcomings on the cutting room floor. In actuality, both men did deserve to win. Without a doubt, the hardest decisions we faced in postproduction were how to edit together sequences involving Trump. We needed him to sound sharp, dignified, and clear on what he was looking for and not as if he was yelling at people. You see him today: When he reads from a teleprompter, he comes off as loud and stoic. Go to one of his rallies and he’s the off-the-cuff rambler rousing his followers into a frenzy. While filming, he struggled to convey even the most basic items. But as he became more comfortable with filming, Trump made raucous comments he found funny or amusing—some of them misogynistic as well as racist. We cut those comments. Go to one of his rallies today and you can hear many of them.

If you listen carefully, especially to that first episode, you will notice clearly altered dialogue from Trump in both the task delivery and the boardroom. Trump was overwhelmed with remembering the contestants’ names, the way they would ride the elevator back upstairs or down to the street, the mechanics of what he needed to convey. Bienstock instigated additional dialogue recording that came late in the edit phase. We set Trump up in the soundproof boardroom set and fed him lines he would read into a microphone with Bienstock on the phone, directing from L.A. And suddenly Trump knows the names of every one of the contestants and says them while the camera cuts to each of their faces. Wow, you think, how does he remember everyone’s name? While on location, he could barely put a sentence together regarding how a task would work. Listen now, and he speaks directly to what needs to happen while the camera conveniently cuts away to the contestants, who are listening and nodding. He sounds articulate and concise through some editing sleight of hand.

Then comes the note from NBC about the fact that after Trump delivers the task assignment to the contestants, he disappears from the episode after the first act and doesn’t show up again until the next-to-last. That’s too long for the (high-priced) star of the show to be absent. There is a convenient solution. At the top of the second act, right after the task has been assigned but right before the teams embark on their assignment, we insert a sequence with Trump, seated inside his gilded apartment, dispensing a carefully crafted bit of wisdom. He speaks to whatever the theme of each episode is—why someone gets fired or what would lead to a win. The net effect is not only that Trump appears once more in each episode but that he also now seems prophetic in how he just knows the way things will go right or wrong with each individual task. He comes off as all-seeing and all-knowing. We are led to believe that Donald Trump is a natural-born leader.

Through the editorial nudge we provide him, Trump prevails. So much so that NBC asks for more time in the boardroom to appear at the end of all the remaining episodes. (NBC declined to comment for this article.) [... So, we scammed. We swindled. Nobody heard the racist and misogynistic comments or saw the alleged cheating, the bluffing, or his hair taking off in the wind. Those tapes, I’ve come to believe, will never be found.

No one lost their retirement fund or fell on hard times from watching The Apprentice. But Trump rose in stature to the point where he could finally eye a run for the White House, something he had intended to do all the way back in 1998. Along the way, he could now feed his appetite for defrauding the public with various shady practices. In 2005 thousands of students enrolled in what was called Trump University, hoping to gain insight from the Donald and his “handpicked” professors. Each paid as much as $35,000 to listen to some huckster trade on Trump’s name. In a sworn affidavit, salesman Ronald Schnackenberg testified that Trump University was “fraudulent.” The scam swiftly went from online videoconferencing courses to live events held by high-pressure sales professionals whose only job was to persuade attendees to sign up for the course. The sales were for the course “tuition” and had nothing whatsoever to do with real estate investments. A class action suit was filed against Trump.

That same year, Trump was caught bragging to Access Hollywood co-host Billy Bush that he likes to grab married women “by the pussy,” adding, “When you’re a star, they let you do it.” He later tried to recruit porn actor Stormy Daniels for The Apprentice despite her profession and, according to Daniels, had sex with her right after his last son was born. (His alleged attempt to pay off Daniels is, of course, the subject of his recent trial.) In October 2016—a month before the election—the Access Hollywood tapes were released and written off as “locker room banter.” Trump paid Daniels to keep silent about their alleged affair. He paid $25 million to settle the Trump University lawsuit and make it go away. He went on to become the first elected president to possess neither public service nor military experience. And although he lost the popular vote, Trump beat out Hillary Clinton in the Electoral College, winning in the Rust Belt by just 80,000 votes.

Trump has been called the “reality TV president,” and not just because of The Apprentice. The Situation Room, where top advisers gathered, became a place for photo-ops, a bigger, better boardroom. Trump swaggered and cajoled, just as he had on the show. Whom would he listen to? Whom would he fire? Stay tuned. Trump even has his own spinoff, called the House of Representatives, where women hurl racist taunts and body-shame one another with impunity. The State of the Union is basically a cage fight. The demands of public office now include blowhard buffoonery.

Bill Pruitt wrote in Slate that Donald Trump used the N-word on the set of NBC's The Apprentice in 2004 when referring to a Black contestant (Kwame Jackson)'s chances of winning the competition by saying "would America buy a n***er winning?"

This is yet another example of Trump's long record of anti-Black racism that dates back to the 1970s.

[universitypenguin]

Hey Alice :) I know you did something already for Valentine’s Day where Lloyd spoiled princess but I was wondering what if the roles were reversed? Would princess 👑 do anything sweet for Lloyd? As always thank you so much for writing this amazing story 🥹

Thank you so much for this ask! 🥰

I had a lot of fun thinking about what Princess would do for Lloyd on Valentine’s Day if she were the one planning their celebration. I know for a lot of men it feels like a one sided bargain which is something a guy like Lloyd would find incredibly annoying. Of course he loves Princess, so his perspective on the holiday has shifted, but I feel like Princess would want to do something special for him, too.

When I was pondering the dynamics between the characters, I did a lot of thinking about that piece I wrote about Lloyd’s approach to Valentine’s Day. It’s clear that his plan for the day was mainly driven by his need for social validation. Yes, his overall goal was to please Princess, but his actions in the story centered around impressing her social circle and gaining attention. This is quintessential Lloyd Hansen behavior. He’s motivated by a very superficial type of recognition, because that’s all he’s ever known before.

Princess is very aware of this because she understands Lloyd and knows how to read him. That said, by the end of the day she was getting sick of the extravagance and the theatrical, exhibitionistic display it had become. She did appreciate his efforts, but what she really wanted was a personal connection that memorialized their relationship, not ones driven by external validation.

Side bar: The fact that Jenn was the one who realized the disconnect between Lloyd and Princess was so funny to me. Like, if you’ve read the backstory pieces you know Jenn and Lloyd absolutely despise each other. She really proved her devotion to Princess by going to Lloyd in private and re-orientating him in the right direction. It was kind of like watching the Grinch save Christmas. 😂

So, after all this reflection on what Lloyd’s take on Valentine’s Day represented to the characters, I came up with a plan for how Princess would choose to spend the holiday if planning it were up to her.

First, she wouldn’t try to steal Lloyd’s thunder by planning something for the actual date of Valentine’s Day on her own. Knowing how important it is to him to have center stage and step up to prove his worth as a boyfriend to her (and all of their friends and coworkers) she’d sit back and graciously indulge his extravagant public display of affection. Princess would wholeheartedly mask her desire for more intimate gestures in an effort to honor his intentions.

Which is why she would plan her own Valentine’s Day celebration… but in deference to Lloyd, she’d arrange it for the weekend after V-Day.

Her take on the holiday would prioritize their shared interests and revolve around activities they both enjoy, starting with a relaxing morning at the spa and a leisurely brunch. For the afternoon Princess would reserve a cozy spot at one of Lloyd's favorite restaurants for a late lunch, ensuring a quiet, private ambiance for uninterrupted conversation.

As for his gift, Princess would cater to Lloyd's interests, by arranging a golf trip to Myrtle Beach for him and his friends. The rest of their afternoon would be spent wandering through the D.C. botanical gardens, a favorite pastime of Princess’ that Lloyd has also come to appreciate. In the evening they’d go on a romantic sunset catamaran ride down the Potomac River to cap off the day.

The rest of their night unfolds at home. Having spent the day out on the town, Princess would opt for reheating leftovers at home over going out for a fancy dinner. After all, Lloyd’s homemade Coq au Vin from their Valentine’s Day meal is even better the second time around. Then they would cuddle up on the couch with their dinner as Lloyd picks out a movie for them to watch. When he suggests turning the weekend after Valentine’s Day into their own personal holiday, a warmth spreads through Princess’ chest.

For some, it would be devastating if their partners’ approach to celebrating a romantic holiday like Valentine's Day was very different from their own. However, at that moment Princess realizes that she’d never want to spend Valentine’s Day with anyone else. Despite the fact that they have incredibly different perspectives and values - something which could easily drive a wedge between even the strongest of couples - she and Lloyd somehow always come to a unique, peculiar state of equilibrium. They balance each other out, and in the end, that’s the best gift he could ever give her.

[ransprang]

thank you to @magnitude101999 for your support <3 we hope you like your match up

if anyone else wants a match up this is our ko-fi

your match up is....

WYLL!!!

How you met: You were a bard at the Blushing Mermaid, a tavern which Wyll, still the son of a nobleman often frequented. He heard you sing one night and was enchanted by your voice so much so that he sought to have a drink with you afterwards. You were too shy to speak much to him that day, but he was polite and charming so he stuck in your memory. You began to look for him in the crowds, and he would always give you a bright smile whenever you caught his eye. You both began to chat after your performances since he always made it a point to compliment your singing. One night, you noticed Wyll looked troubled. When asked, he confessed that his father was set to disown and exile him for becoming a warlock. You refused to believe that kind man would do anything evil intentionally. Wyll heartened by your faith in him, invited you to accompany him in his travels. And so the pair of you roamed the Swordcoast, a traveling minstrel and the Blade of Frontiers.

When resting at camp Wyll performs his dances in private along with his sword practices. In those serene moments you love drawing him. And if you choose to show him the pages of drawings he'll be so pleased and a bit shy, “Wow darling, is this how you see me?”

He’ll pepper your body with innocent, light kisses on your hands, fingers, cheeks, forehead. He’s slowly build up his way to your lips like a gentleman

Wyll loves to caress your hair, admiring the color and beauty after a long day. The gentle touches turn into a head massage which helps you destress.

As a bard you have very weak capabilities in fighting with weapons, so Wyll teaches you the art of the sword. Similar to the modern world of teaching one to play golf, Wyll stands behind you and clasps his hands on top of yours. Guiding your hands

You would sing some funky tunes and Wyll would dance to them. He would drag you into a dance too once his solo performance was over.    

Wyll and you are both 6 feet. You both could exchange clothing if you wanted. Some nights you put on his little black crop top before going to bed. 

Wyll would appreciate your bubbly and cheerful personality in dark times, especially with a worm stuck in his brain. He has been through some difficult times but always tries to keep an optimistic outlook. He would admire your ability to stay positive.

It would be ages before you guys would do more than kiss and Wyll would be all the more happy to go slow with you. He wants that storybook romance, and is happy to play the part of Prince Charming.

Wyll often waxes lyrical about his partner. He would give you all the sappy, romantic words of affirmation you needed. "Your red hair dances like flames in the sunlight.” “For me, Y/n, your eyes hold the entire universe, and when our eyes meet, it feels like getting lost in a beautiful, enchanting night sky.

N/SFW

Wyll teaches you the way of his sword. Since you are shy, he’ll slowly teach you what he likes and how he likes it. At the beginning he’d let you pump it and put his cock in your mouth however you please. The longer into your relationship the more comfortable he grows teaching you what he prefers.

He’ll never pressure you into anything you don’t want to. He’d be the king of consent asking you if he can remove your blouse and panties.

Absolute praise kink and body worship enjoyer. He’ll tell you how gorgeous you look clothed, topless, between his legs, sweaty, full of his cum, and more. He is wholly devoted to you and only you.

Wyll takes it slow, he caresses your body softly with his finger tips, feeling your skin, curves and bends. You can see him breathe heavier, the more he feels. His pants get tighter, pushing against his zipper. His hard erect cock fully visible to you.

Wyll pleasures then gets pleasured. He would give your naked body soft kisses all the way down to your clit, while he lets his hands and arms roam freely around your chest and hips. Skin to skin contact already has him on cloud 9.

Wyll would slowly and steadily take you from behind as he would squeeze your breasts. He also brings himself close to your neck and ear while pumping to whisper about how much he loves you, and how you are his everything.

Wyll would take your hands and move them around his body, feeling your fingertips against his abs. Tracing his v line, smooth against his skin, that man would be dripping with precum.

He would have sex to classical music playing in the background. As the music and the instruments would get more intense, so would he. Wyll would pump faster and breathe with the rhythm to songs like fur Elise,

Wyll is going to look after you so well. He would play with your red locks, tangling them around his fingers, and kissing your forehead. He would say I love you at least 10 times after sex.

Wyll will make you lemonade to make up for all the sweating, especially if you’ve sucked him off. He will offer to cook you dinner or take you out for a meal. You are his princess and you’ve given him so much pleasure, so he must thank you.

yours wyllfully,

admins sar, san & sav

[oldshowbiz]

Thom Sharp has appeared in more television commercials than anyone else alive.

He has been a ubiquitous face on Canadian TV since the late 1980s and a ubiquitous face on American TV since the early 1980s.

Everyone knows his face and voice, but nobody knows his name.

Originally from Michigan where he worked at an advertising agency with a then-unknown Cathy Guisewite, he moved to Los Angeles in 1978 and started doing stand-up comedy (with a guitar).

He was a regular at the Comedy and Magic Club in Hermosa Beach and the Laff Stop in Newport Beach.

He landed an appearance on Johnny Carson's Tonight Show in 1981. The crowd liked him, but Johnny didn't. Johnny hated guitar comics.

Sharp did an appearance on Late Night with David Letterman and An Evening at the Improv and had two shots on Merv Griffin. He only returned to the Tonight Show a decade later when guest host Jay Leno booked him (twice) to promote a VHS tape about golf.

He stopped doing stand-up around 1984 and devoted himself full time to his lucrative and prolific commercial career.

[beanlot]

your writing is incredible, i would like to eat it with a spoon <3<3

if your requests are still open and this would be something you’re comfortable writing, i saw your other fics about how Ellie and Sevika would act in an argument, and i would love to see what Abby might be like in an argument w/ the reader as well.

thank you so much, i can’t wait to see what else you write!

emotionally disciplined enough.

i’m talking just enough, because there’s some moments where abby loses her shit and there’s some moments where she can manipulate the overload of emotion.. just enough. firstly, abby doesn’t avoid confrontation - she isn’t one to disregard the erosion in the very sentimental soils of your relationship. she’s composed enough to address it immediately for instant relief on both sides; she’ll want to sit down with you, and it’ll be serene communication. she’ll ask you what’s going on lately, and generally strikes me as someone who takes accountability for everything, that she’s sorry for making you feel that way - and most of the time, it’s just like that.

however, there is a potential for hostility when it’s not most of the time. and not to blame you or anything, but the only way i see abby initiating aggression is when you hit that sensitive nerve, the one that gets her trying to blink away wrathful irises and intimidating tilts of the head. now i’m not saying she’s abusive, but there is no way all that hot hunk of muscle won’t be put to use - she likes to remind you through the brawn that she can decimate you with a hand tied behind her back by intruding your personal space, eyes that mince you to cadavers, making sure you know who the ascendant person is.

what did you just say?

no, go on, say it again.

abby’s actually the first person i think would get physical with you in arguments - not golf club kinda physical, i’m talking like.. confining your jaw in her fingers and forcing you to look at her kinda physical; skin to skin against the wall and (depending if you’re shorter) pillaring over you kinda physical, not being able to move your wrists under the paralysis of her hands pinching them together kinda physical. she knows her biggest element is her physicality, and she’d rather dominate you via her size compared to shredding you apart verbally - on other days, you were equal. but when you get her riled up, you were nothing but inferior, feeble glass on her fingertips waiting to be shattered.

i’ve noticed that when abby does get pissy, she opts for venting that irritability on inanimate objects. so expect a little punch to a door here and there, perhaps a little glass shatter y’know.

let’s talk about hate sex.

i mean.. you saw it. abby likes getting just a little lewd, converting all that ire temper and susceptibility into perhaps, sexual frustration when there’s resentment between you. this would really depend on the severity of the argument and conversations you’d had beforehand on the kinks you’d fantasised about - she’s likely to invite herself to your body, and this wouldn’t only be just another reminder of how much authority she has over you, but this would be your apology to her. of course, she’ll only go as far as to what you’re comfortable with - but that also doesn’t mean she’s gonna go so vanilla on you either.

oh, you like this?

look at where running your mouth gets you.

overstimulation is on the cards if it means she gets you screaming that you’re sorry, and i just like the image of abby slewing a strap into you at full velocity over the kitchen counter, and if you have long hair - that’s a bonus, because she’s gonna have a handful of it.

but in terms of abby’s loyalty, there’s a slight predicament. as much as i’d like to put all my scrubbed-up faith that she’d stay devoted in these extreme episodes, i could also see her potentially using other women as an outlet for her aggravation - i’m not saying it’s guaranteed, it would be a complete rarity for abby to go out of her way and rub the salt in the wound to have her head between another woman’s thighs. i mean, abby literally slept with a guy who has a pregnant girlfriend - what’s gonna stop her from sleeping with someone else if an argument between you is a lethal threat enough to end the relationship? probably not much.

but then again, that’s probably because she couldn’t give a rats ass about mel and was just in the moment. you on the other hand, it’s chess. it’s moving the pawns logically, considering the consequences.

she’s hard to read.

[harrytheehottie]

THE FIVE TIMES YOU KNEW LOVE ON TOUR SCRAPBOOK

thank you for creating this fun challenge @harrystylesgotmefuckedup and to @oh-honey-styles for tagging me <3

1) Which tour stop was your favorite?

London is always the best because it’s home. I also loved Tokyo, Harry went there a few years back and always talked about it and it was sweet to see the city from the POV of someone who loves it so much. We had a few days off before and after the shows so we were able to play tourists which is always fun. 

2) Tour fits! Which was your number one?

Hmmmm… this is hard but the last Wembley show. Heart overalls with no shirt. Delicious.

3) Harry's performed numerous covers on tour. If you had to choose, which has been his best for you? Which song would be a dream cover?

Hopelessly Devoted. I tried to get him to do Summer Lovin’ or really lean into the Danny Zucko of it all and go full Grease Lightin' but luckily for me - I still got what I wanted just a little bit after the show.

4) Lucky you, you've got access to any piece of Harry's merch you'd like. What are you choosing?

Our custom gazelles. That was my idea! It started with the custom final show shirts from the 2018 tour and now every end of tour run he comes up with something unique to give to all the band and crew.

5) Choose your favorite bathroom sign from Love on Tour

Kiwee. I still use it to this day!

6) Which opening act has been your favorite?

Wolf Alice! That was a special request from me - I showed Harry their music back in 2016. If I had a choice they’d be the openers from the very start.

7) You can add any of Harry's songs to the set list from any of his past albums. Which one?

Ever Since New York. You should've seen my reaction when he played it on NYC Night 15. He didn't give me any heads up. I was floored.

8) What are your very own essentials for being away from home on tour?

My work computer and film camera.

9) What's Harry like on tour? Any memorable moments, favorite crowd interactions?

I've been lucky enough to be with Harry through every tour in his career even through the tail end of the band. And I can honestly say this is the most relaxed I have ever seen him on a tour. He has his schedule down to a science. He wakes up in the morning after letting himself have a 'lie-in' (usually is up by 9 which to me is not a lie in but for a man who usually wakes up at 6 it is) we have breakfast together always. It’s a must. And then he’s off to the arena by mid-day while I work but I always make sure to get to the arena early so we can watch the opener together. And then I give him his space to do his ~rituals~ and watch the show from the back or the bleachers. One fun fact that not many would know is as soon as he gets out of a show and back to the hotel or home it’s straight to the treadmill to perform the show through one more time. So it’s a good 90 minutes before he’s in bed again. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

10) In honor of Harry's 30th birthday: Harry played at Acrisure Arena in Thousand Palms, CA on his 29th birthday. Aside from the show, how did the two of you celebrate?

This was nice because I didn’t have to actually plan the party! We had an afters at the arena filled with lots of cake from Hansen’s. We snuck into the golf course at the Madison once we got back to where we were staying - a very drunk yet memorable decision.

this was so fun ❤️ im going to upload more of this story but it’s nice to just see them through the years this way as well. tagging @didhewinkback @for-fucks-sake-h @gucciwins @andwhenshesays @harry-on-broadway @hslllot 🤪 and honestly anyone who writes and want to do one of these !!!!

[kmac4him1st]

Miss The Mark

Who says you can't learn a "spiritual lesson" and grow in the Lord through golf??? I love the game of golf and God teaches me much through all the things in my life. God bless ya!

“Failure is not the opposite of success, it is part of success, yes a failure is not a loss, it is a gain. You learn. You change. You grow.” Francis Chan That Was Really Ugly… I can’t even count the number of times I have missed the mark. We are human beings and sometimes we just miss the mark at times. Something may be off when we get up and we follow after our feelings, instead of connecting…