the hard graft

after leaving the most prestigious military school in the country(and being the only Catboi to do so) fabian gets drafted from the age of 18-22 in a disastrous war, ends up leading his little squadron. its four yrs of hard graft, basically shreds up his naivety, also shreds up his arm, he makes some good friends but they mostly die. The End.

chryseis  asked:

Sarah, I have a question of great importance! Who is your favourite Tamora Pierce heroine?

That IS a very important question.

… Keladry of Mindelan in the PROTECTOR OF THE SMALL series.

Alanna was my first Tamora Pierce heroine, so she has a very special place in my heart, and Daine is the Wish Fulfillment of Talking to Animals (And Having Them Think You’re Cool, All the Squirrels Want To Hang Out With Me!)

But I always have a soft spot for the people who aren’t chosen by fate and have to get by on hard graft. Plus Kel is unusually tall and strongly built, as am I, though in my case this translates to no athletic abilities whatsoever at all in aaaaany way. Plus I have a real soft spot for the relationship between her and her training master, who starts out as a misogynist and who is won over by Kel just being steadfast and awesome. I lllllloooooove people being allowed to be highly flawed and dislikable, and then not villains. And her loving diplomat parents, particularly her mama.

I also like practical ladies and honourable people of few words. This may be the attraction of opposites, since I am a… sketchily honourable, deeply impractical person of many words. However! Kel. She’s amazing. 

Wrong Place Wrong Time- The Aftermath (10)

Do not reuse, edit or copy and of my work(s). ©
Part 10 of an ongoing sequel, enjoy :)
A fanfic for a more Mature audience due to violence and language. Read at your own risk :)

Themes=😖,🌟,💣,🎭 ,. (☠️- Harm towards characters, Strong language and Adult themes.)

Summary: The Sequel to Wrong Place Wrong Time: Life after the death of Red.
Main Characters include: Reader and EXO.

Click for WPWT(1)  Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9  Part 11  Part 12  Part 13  Part 14  Part 15  Part 16  Part 17  Part 18  Part 19  Part 20  Part 21  Part 22-Finale

Word Count: 3,506 (ish)

You were all sat around the table in the board. You were looking anxiously at Junmyeon he seemed extremely displeased and you were yet to find out why you were all gathered around the beautiful marble table.

“So it’s obvious someone around this table is working alongside Luhan. I’m giving you this chance to come clean so that we can deal with it lightly. I’m feeling generous.” Junmyeon looked around the room, but everyone continued to stare back with blank faces. No one answered. Your mouth was growing dry. The situation was becoming extremely tense. You held Minseok’s hand under the table and squeezed it lightly. He turned to look at you and gave you a light reassuring smile.

“So nobody wants to speak up?” Junmyeon scoffed, running a hand through his hair. It was all becoming so frustrating and you had no idea who you could trust in this house.

Yixing sighed rolling his eyes.

“Come on, it’s obviously Jongin.” He pointed in Jongin’s direction who was sitting opposite him on the table.

“And why would it be me?” Jongin frowned. “You’re just saying that because you’re not particularly fond of me, besides, I haven’t a motive.”

“Of course you’ve got a motive.” Yixing spat, shifting forward in his seat, his expression had turned cold. “I mean number one you were the Tell-Tale weren’t you, so what stops you from pulling this type of shit again? And if that’s not enough of a motive for you, you clearly worked with Luhan who’s to say you didn’t know he was the bad guy right from the start, you never miss a shot yet Luhan is still alive? Purposeful if you ask me. How can we trust you?” Yixing smiled cockily at Jongin, sitting backwards in his seat again. You looked about the table and one or two faces did look convinced.

“Well consider this Little Miss Princess Zhang, the individual working for Luhan would obviously be looking to kill Y/N no? Now why would I do that, huh? I mean I wanted to be intimate with her once upon a time didn’t I?”
You heard Minseok grunt from beside you as he squeezed your hand tighter, as if marking his possession.

Yixing shrugged, still smiling. “I don’t know… Still salty that you were rejected and she ended up marrying the one who tried killing her multiple times maybe?”
Jongin let out a low growl. It didn’t sound human and it was unlike anything you had heard before, it made you shiver slightly as his face turned dark. He rose from his seat and looked Yixing square in the face.

“Listen you asshole, if I wanted to graft that hard for the girl, I would’ve gotten the fucking girl. I don’t see you married with her either? There are plenty more, and better might I add, fish in the sea. So let me tell you now that I’ve got my priorities straight.” He hissed, saliva spraying lightly over the marble.

Minseok stood up, his eyes were thin slits, it was never a good thing when Minseok looked like his, you tried grabbing his hand and pulling him back down, but you failed at your attempt.

“Don’t you dare talk about Y/N like she’s some cheap piece of trash. You couldn’t get better even if you tried you bastard!” He reached over, pushing Jongin’s shoulder.

“Oi! oi! Calm it now!” Junmyeon shouted raising his arm, signalling for them to sit down. Admittedly it wasn’t looking too good for Jongin at this point in time. Minseok reluctantly dropped himself on the seat next to you, pecking you on the lips just to make sure that he had made his point, earning another grunt from Jongin but not a guttural as the previous.

“Well I honestly think its Tao…” Sehun mumbled from under his breath. You raised your eyebrow; you had forgotten that Sehun existed for the past day, so you were a little bit shocked to hear him speak. You looked over at Tao who was not very pleased at Sehun’s suggestion.
“I mean I’m sorry, but he just appears back here all of a sudden how are we supposed to trust him? I mean if that’s not motive enough then I don’t know what is.” Sehun looked at Tao and shrugged his shoulders unapologetically.

“Like I said before, it is not me! The only reason I came back is because Y/N got herself into trouble, if I hadn’t saved her Red would’ve killed her. I couldn’t go back because he knew I was double crossing him by that point.”

“Well why don’t you go back now?” Sehun asked bluntly, looking ahead at Tao, no emotion in his eyes whatsoever.

“What would that do? Luhan knows I’m on your side!” Tao banged his fists on the cold black marble, creases forming on his forehead. “It’s not me! Don’t you think I would’ve made a move ages ago if it was?!” You stared at Tao; you didn’t know whether or not you could trust him. But then having said that he did save you and if he did want you dead then he could’ve just let Red kill you. Why would he make it harder on himself by freeing you and doing the job himself after? You couldn’t breathe this was becoming too much, you felt nauseous and uneasy, as though you were about to be sick.

“Hmm funny. I think its Baek.” Jongdae shot Baekhyun a dirty side glance from across the table. “He’s just been too nice and calm even after all of the drama had unfolded, besides he’s the son of Red. I think that’s a motive right there. Yeah he claims his sister is dead, but can we actually confirm that?” Jongdae drummed his fingers lightly against the arm of his glass chair, staring intently at Baekhyun.

Hmm funny.” Baekhyun mocked Jongdae’s voice. “Because I think it’s you Dae. I mean you’re so uninvolved in the grand scheme of things. Isn’t it just all too convenient? Besides, I’ve been trying to ignore it, but since we’re letting it all out…I still find it really funny how you were the only one in the living room with Minseok and Y/N that night, whom knew they were going back home and the BAM! All of a sudden Minseok is kidnapped. I wonder how Luhan knew they would be returning home? Hmm?” Baekhyun smiled sadistically at Jongdae “If that’s not telling Jongdae babe,” he said mockingly “then I don’t know what is…”

Minseok frowned moving uncomfortably in his seat, looking between you and Jongdae.

“It is you isn’t it? You’re trying to kill Y/N, because she threatened to kill you once. If it’s you Jongdae…” You earned a few amused glances from around the room, the news that you had once threatened to kill Jongdae clearly impressing them.

“It’s not me Minseok, don’t be stupid!” Jongdae whined. But the argument that Baekhyun brought to the table was extremely plausible and you couldn’t help but think it was the truth.

“Yeah well I’m sorry but if you guys think it’s me because of rejection then that means that Yixing is just as guilty as I am. Besides he took the rejection much worse than I did. So yeah maybe he genuinely wants Y/N dead.” Jongin pouted. “He’s a psycho and we’ll all know it!” You looked over at Yixing who was shaking his head and doing his best to disregard the motive that Jongin had graced him with. You had to admit it did seem a bit far-fetched but it wasn’t impossible. After the way Yixing had slammed you against the table that night you really couldn’t put anything past him. Maybe he was willing to kill you if he couldn’t have you, after all didn’t he try drowning himself in the bath tub the night of Kyungsoo’s incident? You were beginning to feel increasingly queasy; you began taking slow deep breaths to stop yourself from vomiting this whole situation was becoming toxic.

“Yeah, well I think Chanyeol has a pretty good motive too” Tao spoke up again, looking at Chanyeol from where he was sat. You shook your head violently; you refused to listen to any of this rubbish.

“No it’s not Chanyeol, It can’t be him!” You protested sticking up for your best friend.

“Shh Y/N let’s here Tao out.” Junmyeon put his hand up to silence you and you began to feel small, your stomach was forming knots, why did you feel so anxious. You felt as though Tao explanation would be plausible.

“Well.” Tao continued “Actually I think Chanyeol has the biggest motive and is the most likely out of all of us to be the traitor. I mean look at the facts. Chanyeol is the only one out of all of us men that had to join Genesis without knowing what he was getting into. Everyone joined for the cause, but Chanyeol didn’t. He didn’t join for justice, none of his family had died at this point, he joined to keep his dad safe since unfortunately Genesis just happened to randomly hire him unbeknownst to him, he was working in a war zone. But then what happens halfway through? Chanyeol’s dad actually dies in the Hilton fire. And it is all Genesis’ fault, if they didn’t hire his father he would still be alive. All the reason to kill Junmyeon and his family right? And if that’s not enough motive, I remember Jongin telling me that you had all refused to let him go back in the building and save his father, especially Minseok who actually striked him down with a knife, meaning he couldn’t run back to the burning building to save his dad. If only Minseok didn’t do that, I know he believes that he may still have had a chance to get his father out alive. Minseok hurt him and took away someone he loves so all the more reason for him to kill Y/N, so he can hurt Minseok and take away someone that Minseok loves too. And if Junmyeon had let Y/N go from the beginning it would never have gotten this far and the love of his life would never have married another man, she would only have had eyes for him. More motive to kill Junmyeon.”

Your eyes widened, along with Minseok’s. No. No it couldn’t be. Tao had to be wrong; his story had to sound perfect by accident.

“Why would he kill Y/N it’s his best friend?” Sehun frowned looking at Tao.

“Well yeah but Jongin told me that he also confessed his feelings to her too, imagine how let down he would have felt when the woman he’d been in love with for ten years rejected him for a man who she’d only known ten seconds. Betrayed? I think so. So this sparked this burning anger inside of him, fierce enough to want to kill her. If he can’t have her then Minseok sure as heck can’t.”

“I’ve moved on from those feelings. I’m seeing someone” Chanyeol shook his head looking at you and Minseok and then looking at Tao.

Tao scoffed sarcastically, smirking at Chanyeol.

“Stop kidding yourself Chan, we all know you can’t get over ten years of feelings in one year. It’s not possible, admit it. Seeing someone is a great way to mask the feelings you still have deep down, no?”

You felt a wave of uncertainty take over your body, you were panicked and you weren’t sure if you were doing a good job at hiding it. You looked up at Chanyeol who was now purposely avoiding your gaze, why was he doing that?

“I don’t feel well” You whispered to Minseok, your voice shaking as you spoke.

“Just try breathing babe, this is important we can’t afford to miss it. Maybe we can catch the individual out.” He mumbled, staring directly at Chanyeol. Tao’s plea made complete sense and you were becoming increasingly worried, it couldn’t be Chanyeol…could it? Tao shifted backwards smugly into his seat staring at Chanyeol who was staring down at his red sweaty palms.

“Okay that sounds like a very solid motive, but I still feel as though Minseok and Sehun could be in on it to.” Kyungsoo said, looking blankly at Minseok and then Sehun.

“Kyungsoo!” You cried. Why was he turning it on your husband, after everything you’d helped him with and the friendship you had slowly began to build, why was he attacking you in this way.

“What? I’m just saying. It doesn’t mean it is them; we’re just bringing out plausible motives are we not. Don’t shoot the messenger.” He leaned back in his chair rolling his eyes. “Listen we all know that they were closest to Luhan, who says they’re not all working together? Luhan could have asked them to join him. Those three were inseparable why wouldn’t they agree to join him?”

Your breath slowed for a second or two. No. You pinched your thigh under the table, why would it be your husband. Of course it wouldn’t be him. He wasn’t stupid. You shook your head.

“It’s not Minseok.”          

Kyungsoo shrugged his shoulders at you and crossed his arms over his chest. He didn’t seem as though he was willing to take the argument further, but the way he was looking at Minseok was telling you that he still stood by what he said. Tensions were high in this room, the air around you was thick and you were scared to utter a word. You had never been in the midst of so much doubt up until this point in your life.

“Well I’m sorry but two can play at the blame game.” Sehun spat, pushing the silence away with his harsh tone. “I’m sorry but how the fuck do we know that the girl you were talking to doesn’t work with Luhan too. How do we not know that you had practiced emergency drills; that if you called her outside of unscheduled hours that she was to pose as though she was your girlfriend because something was up. How do we not know a ‘date’ is code for something we don’t know about? We have no proof that she is who you say she is Kyungsoo. So dig your way out of that one.  Ever since you’ve been paralysed you’ve been bitter towards us all, maybe you’re wracked with jealousy and anger huh Kyungsoo? I mean if you can’t live a comfortable life why should we when we deserve no better than you? Why is Baekhyun still alive when you took his bullet? You’re a silent one Kyungsoo, only God knows what goes in that head of yours half of the time!” Sehun banged his fist on the marble table as he closed his statement. Kyungsoo was looking at him fiercely now his eyes dark. What he said next shocking you.

“No, none of you deserve to live better off than me. Only Y/N and Yuna do. But they’re fools for getting themselves into this. Why marry men like us when you could’ve runaway with the freedom you were granted.” His voice was laced with venom, making you gasp at how sinister he looked in the moment. “However. Am I salty enough to want you all dead? No. I don’t think so.” He grunted and looked blankly at Sehun again. You were shaking slightly not knowing what to do with your thoughts an emotions.

“Well…What about…I don’t know…Junmyeon.” Chanyeol mumbled from the side, raising his head hesitantly. You all gasped at this statement. Junmyeon’s eyes shot wide open. How could Chanyeol accuse the ring leader, the man who tried to keep everyone safe?

“Me?…” Junmyeon whispered.

“I mean yes….I’m not saying it is you Myeon, but you wanted to kill us once upon a time, who’s to say you still haven’t lived that moment down? But if you are covert under Luhan’s instructions then it doesn’t look like it’s your doing, it easier for you to get to us without being suspected.”
There were a few low grunts around the room but you didn’t know whether or not they were grunts of a approval or disproval. Until Yuna began to speak up.

“No! Don’t you dare pin this in Junmyeon. Just because your motive is highly plausible and now you’re trying to stick it on my husband, I don’t think so! Besides he’s moved on from that dark place. He has no desire to do that anymore. Don’t you see how hard he’s been working for you all these days of course it’s not Junmyeon!” She grabbed his hand and stroked it. This was the first time you had seen Yuna blow up and step outside of her quiet little box. It made you feel inadequate, she fought so hard to back up her husband, yet all you could do was shake your head for yours. Why were you so pathetic?

“With all due respect, shut the fuck up!” Jongdae hissed in her direction. “You weren’t even there when he tried blowing us all up you don’t even know what happened. You only just came into his life, so you haven’t a clue. This brings me to my next question Yuna. Where did you come from and who the heck are you?! All of a sudden some random woman comes and marries Junmyeon, you knew what you were getting into, this whole underground business yet you still proceeded with the wedding, any normal woman would’ve run a mile.”

There was silence around the room, as if everyone was just considering now that what Jongdae was saying, it was true she did just appear from nowhere.

“What the fuck do you want me to say?! I fell in love with him. Excuse me for not knowing there were terms and conditions for falling in love with someone. I couldn’t help my feelings towards Junmyeon; do you think I would have stayed otherwise? If you want to join us for one night of serious passion then maybe I could show you how much he really means to me. So be my frickin’ guest! Besides Y/N didn’t run from marrying Minseok and it was her chance to run, so why is my love any less valid and meaningful than hers!” She shouted from across her side of the table tears streaming down her cheeks. She was correct. If anyone was stupid for marrying one of these men it was you. Maybe she married Junmyeon thinking she could handle it. You on the other hand had already experienced it so why you came back to a warzone was completely beyond you, but love does strange things to the mind and logical reasoning.

“Sweetheart its okay calm down.” Junmyeon cooed, wiping her tears with the pad of his thumb whilst also shooting Jongdae with a bitter glare. “Besides it can’t be her. I knew that she could’ve been anyone at all, so I had background checks run on her in HQ myself and she checks out. She’s completely clean.”
Yuna’s opened wide as she turned to look at her husband, her eyes red.

“Junmyeon…You did that? You had me checked?” She sounded breathless and shocked.

“Babe, you need to understand why I did it.”

“I just thought you trusted me enough. You didn’t even run the idea through me Junmyeon; you did it behind my back. I would never have refused you…”

“Yuna, sweetheart. I had to be sure you were who you said you were.” He reached for her hand, but she grabbed it away. She stood up from her chair and jogged out of the room, her perfume wafting past you as she went.
“Yuna!” Junmyeon called, an expression of worry painted across his face.

“Leave her. Let her breathe.”Minseok nodded at him, leaning back in his seat. The room went silent again before Jongin began to speak up.

“What if it’s you?” He pointed directly at you.

“Me?” You gasped. “That doesn’t even make sense.” You felt Minseok’s body tense beside you, his breathing turning into silent growls.

“Of course it does.” Jongin continued. “We practically ruined your life Y/N we kept you here and didn’t let you go home. You’ve seen and done some evil things. Maybe you hate us and you can’t take it anymore so you want us all dead. You’re a good person, there’s no way you’d be able to take all of us out single-handed you’d be too scared and feel too guilty so you requested Luhan’s help. Maybe him trying to kill you is your alibi, it makes you look innocent in all of this but it’s all a hoax to mislead us.” At this point everyone was blinking at you, it was a good theory you had to admit.
“Unless you have a better explanation.”

You took a deep breath.

“Well yes I believe we’re missing someone out.”

The men stared around the table, not too sure what you were on about.



football edits challenge | day 5 (favourite club rivalry)
– the northwest derby (Liverpool vs. Manchester United)

Liverpool and Manchester are so different, yet so alike. There’s a realness to both cities, an honesty to the people, a love of hard work, graft and most of all, football. It’s more complicated than hate.

anonymous asked:

Okay so seeing as torture is completely ineffective at getting information, the drugs we've been told are foolproof are all bull, and we can't even accurately tell if people are lying or can I realistically get my villain to find intel? Is the threat of torture or the non-physical torture (bright lights, shouting, etc.) you see in most police interrogations any more effective?

Threat of torture and the ‘non-physical’ techniques you describe (which are basically a combination of sleep deprivation and stress positions known as ‘sweating’) are both legally tortures and are both as ineffective as other tortures.

Realistically there are a couple of good options for your villain- none of which are violent.

My first piece of advice: chuck interrogation.

I know it’s narratively satisfying but it’s really rubbish when it comes to actually gathering intel. If you want that moment of confrontation with the villain then have them gloat.

What works for gathering information is legitimate investigation.

Have the villain or their mooks tail the heroes, follow them, note where they go and when. For months. Make connections, who knows who and how much time they spend together. Where everyone lives and works and goes to hang out.

Eavesdrop. Use wire taps. Steal their letters. Steal their phones. Read their emails. Break into their houses and offices and read their paper work.

This is the best way to get information on the heroes and any plans they might have. And it’s a full time job for several people. It is hard, it is boring but it is worth it.

As a secondary method of investigation the villain or their assistants could try talking to people who see the heroes regularly but don’t interact with them much. The neighbour across the hall, the people in the office next door. They could be bribed into giving up information or keeping an extra eye on the hero/es.

None of this is dramatic and it doesn’t sound like much but this is how people get accurate information. It’s slow and it’s hard work.

If the villain doesn’t have assistants it will be difficult, but they can get around that with money by hiring private investigators, bribing cleaners in the heroes work place and so on. If the villain doesn’t have money or assistants then……it’s a lot more difficult.

What exactly would work for your villain depends on the story and the villain’s circumstances. If this kind of hard work and investigation seems uncharacteristic (or just beyond your villain) then there are two other options.

They get lucky.

Find a point in the story where the crucial piece of information can slip through the cracks, where a stranger could listen in to a conversation, or go through computer/physical files or sees something odd. They could talk about it to a friend or relative or go directly to the villain and volunteer the information.

They’d probably expect to be paid. And this can only really happen once.

The second option is defection. Someone who used to hang around the hero changes sides and voluntarily gives a lot of info to the villain.

This may or may not work depending on your characters and plot, but it’s one of the better options, especially since it means the villain can get a lot of crucial information at once with minimal effort.

There’s still potentially room for interrogation in there if you want to include it but as a way to try and double check intel rather than to get it. It could also be used to intimidate.

And that’s….really it? You put in hard graft or you get very lucky.

I hope that helps. :)


thisissirius  asked:

“and where do i go?”

Robert felt like he’d had this same nightmare a thousand times over, reliving the moment his father had sent him away. He used to have the nightmare more often, every night, those first few months, and eventually it was once a week, once a month - until he hardly kept count at all.

For so long, Robert had been able to block that day out.

The day his friend had died.

The day he’d saved Andy first.

The day he’d finally disappointed Jack Sugden one too many times, his father wanting nothing more to do with him.

He’d been on eggshells with his father for years, if he was honest, tiptoeing around Jack as he made mess after mess, fucked up his own life, ruined Andy’s, did everything he could to make sure happiness didn’t stick, because it was better to ruin it yourself than let someone else take it away from you.

That’s how Robert functioned, closed off, always ready to run. It’s how he’d survived on his own for so long, how he’d never let Chrissie see those parts of him he wanted to hide from her, regardless of how in love with her he had been.

The way he’d never quite managed to be with Aaron, Aaron breaking down all his walls, his defences, seeing the person Robert had boarded up behind years of self loathing, years of knowing he wasn’t good enough for anyone, let alone his own family.

Aaron had seen past it all, and now he was going to lose him.

Easing himself out of bed, Robert quietly reached for a discarded hoodie of Aaron’s, padding downstairs to the kitchen. He hadn’t been sleeping properly, the past few nights, waking up drenched in sweat because he’d relived all the worst days, the bad nights, all over again, and he was exhausted.

Exhausted, and terrified, because Aaron should have kicked him out. Aaron should have told him where to go, should have told him their marriage was over, but he hadn’t - he’d said he wanted to forgive him.


Robert could laugh.

The one thing he didn’t deserve.

Flicking on the kettle, Robert leaned against the kitchen counter, eyes closed as he listened to the water bubble. Was this going to be his life now, sleepless nights and always walking on eggshells, wondering when Aaron was going to see sense and get rid?

He didn’t want that.

Robert tugged Aaron’s hoodie more tightly around himself, inhaling the familiar musky scent of a hard days graft up at the scrapyard, the lingering scent of the cologne Robert had bought him for Christmas clinging to every inch of the dark blue material.

The scent of home.

Robert had never had a home like this, with a love this honest, and real. Every inch of the Mill was theirs, inside jokes and joint decisions they’d argued for days over, eventually reaching compromises that made the house uniquely theirs, and theirs alone.

It was nothing like the pre-brought grandeur of life with the Whites, nothing like the life he’d been scraping together for himself at nineteen, twenty, living from week to week, barely able to afford food, let alone anything else, nothing like the life he’d known growing up on the farm, memories of days when ends wouldn’t meet and they’d have to huddle around the fire, his parents trying to hide the fact they couldn’t afford to turn the heating on that week.

No, this was home, and Robert had already managed to hit self destruct, putting everything he had, everything he loved, at risk.

“What are you doing up?”

Aaron’s tired voice made Robert look up, his husband standing sleepily at the end of the stairs, dressed in just his t-shirt and boxers, eyes heavy and hair practically standing on end.

He was beautiful, especially like this, open and honest in a way that only Robert got to love.

“I couldn’t sleep,” Robert admitted, gesturing to the empty mug he’d gotten out for himself, the brightly patterned china that had been a gift from Victoria. “I thought I’d make some warm milk.”

Aaron’s face softened, and he padded across the kitchen tiles, pausing to get the milk from the fridge. “Did you have a nightmare?” he asked, knowing, always knowing.

Robert gave a slight shrug, not really wanting to talk about it at close to three am. They should probably start to talk about the things that mattered at normal times, rather than leave it all for the middle of the night.

“You can talk to me,” Aaron said quietly, getting himself another mug, pouring equal measures of milk into both. They moved in tandem, Robert pouring the warm water into each mug, the drink reminiscent of his childhood, of all the things his mum would do to help them sleep.

Aaron reached around Robert, grabbing the sugar bowl, and Robert’s heart tightened in his chest as he watched his husband scoop a spoon of sugar into each mug.

His mum used to do that too.

“Where do I go?” Robert blurted, unable to stop himself now, unable to hold it back any longer, not wanting to keep the fear he felt with every breath, every time he looked at Aaron, to himself anymore. “If you don’t want me anymore, where do I go?”

Aaron looked at him, wide eyed. “I’m always going to want you, Robert,” he said, quiet, reassuring.

“You shouldn’t.”

“But I do,” Aaron said, as if nothing else mattered. “Nothing - nothing is going to be easy for a while, but we’ll get through this, Robert.”

“Will we?” Robert hated how unsure he was, how insecure he felt about them, about their marriage.

And all because of one mistake.

Aaron nodded, nudging Robert’s mug toward him. “We’ve survived worse,” he said simply, jerking his head toward the stairs, a clear we’ll talk about this in bed sort of gesture. “And this is your home, Robert. The only place you’re ever going to have be is here, with me.”

Preference #4: He Comes Home Angry (Luke/4)

Luke: You sat on the armchair in your lounge, idly smoothing out Molly’s (your dog’s) fur while humming away to a Little Mix song on the radio.
You were anticipating Luke’s arrival home, as he had been so preoccupied with creating ‘5SOS3’ as he and the guys referred to it, that you’d had barely any couple time together. You missed each other so, so much.
It was Luke’s idea to have a ‘date night’ at least once a fortnight. It wasn’t always going out to a fancy restaurant, or doing something extravagant - in actual fact, you much preferred to stay home with your boyfriend, and just bask in the moment, and fully appreciate some much needed one on one time.
There was a loud slam of the front door, shaking you out of your thoughts and startling Molly, who leapt off your lap and ran to her dog bed in the corner of the room, burying herself into the fleece cushion and snuggling into her soft toy for comfort.
Luke appeared at the lounge door with a face of thunder. He flopped onto the two-seater at the other side of the room, huffing irritably.
“Hey, baby,” you murmured gently. “Tough day?”
Luke scoffed, not even sparing a glance in your direction.
You raised your eyebrow in disbelief. You absolutely detested being ignored.
“So, I’m guessing it was,” you spoke into the hushed room, the soft quality now absent from your tone.
“Right, okay. Let’s see if you’re able to answer this question, then. What the fuck crawled up your ass today? Must be painful, because you are being a complete misery right now,” you snapped, losing patience.
“You know fuck all! Your so called 'job’ is teaching some little kids the fucking alphabet, you have NO idea the stress I’m under right now!” Luke barked.
You scoffed, rolling your eyes up to the ceiling. So much for the date night.
“You’re a condescending prick, you know that? How fucking DARE you insult my profession like that! You know how much my work means to me! You have absolutely no respect. It’s not MY fault that your 'dream come true’ isn’t all you expected it to be. Wake the FUCK UP LUKE! Life is never going to be a walk in the bloody park, is it? Living the life you’ve always dreamed of doesn’t come without hard graft and pressure! Do not think that you feeling stressed gives you the right to insult my job. I’m trying to be good to you and you treat me like shit!” you challenged.
Luke just laughed a harsh, humourless laugh.
“I’m fucking done,” he hissed, standing up and looking at you contemptuously with a look of sheer fury.
“Where the fuck are you going?!” You yelled after him, sitting up straight as he headed out of the room and turned left towards the front door.
“I moved all the way from England to be with you, you selfish bastard! Are you seriously leaving on our date night? Are you breaking up with me?”
He wasn’t leaving you, right? He loved you. He promised.
There was no answer.
A second slam of the door filled the silent home.
And then the tears began.

Two hours later, the tears and hiccups had finally subsided, leaving you with swollen, red eyes and a blotched face. And very few tissues left in the box on top of the coffee table.
You slowly made your way upstairs, changing into fluffy, warm pyjamas, swiping off the remnants of your makeup with a remover wipe and tying back your hair.
Time to wallow in your sadness.
In the kitchen, you rummaged through the freezer, your tummy rumbling impatiently. You’d skipped dinner as you and Luke usually prepared a homemade meal together or ordered takeout on date nights.
“We’re out of ice cream. Brilliant. Just what I needed,” you muttered to yourself sarcastically.
You reached for your phone to call Luke and ask for him to pick some up, but caught yourself as you remembered the fight and the reason for your pity party. You signed, feeling your eyes well up with tears again. You let the freezer door close noisily behind you as you swung it shut.
Just as you entered the hall, the front door opened and Luke stepped in, looking ashamed.
No sooner had you made eye contact, the tears began to spill again.
“Baby, I’m so, so unbelievably sorry,” he pleaded to you, hurriedly making his way over to you and taking you in his arms, stroking your hair soothingly.
“I had a rough day at the studio, I’m just finding it hard to write new material without feeling like I’m making songs that sound the same as our older music. It’s no excuse for the way I spoke to you. I love you so much, and I can’t apologise enough for not telling you where I was going. I’d be worried sick if that were you.”
You sniffled, curling your fingers around the nape of his neck and snuggling your head further into his chest.
“And I completely fucked up our date night. You don’t deserve to be treated the way I treated you tonight. You deserve so much better, pretty girl. I’m so sorry baby. I love you,” he sighed into your hair, pressing countless kisses there.
Reluctantly you pulled your head away from his chest and looked up at him, noticing immediately the tears brewing his eyes.
You cupped his face, tenderly running your thumb against the stubble covering his jawline.
“It’s okay, Luke, I get it. I was terrified, I thought we were over. Just please talk to me next time, I love you so much. I’ll always listen, I swear. I’m your girlfriend - you’re meant to be able to tell me anything and everything. Just please…” you breathed, full of relief that he was home. He came back to you.
“I will (Y/N), I swear I will. And I also need to apologise for belittling your job. I honestly, hand on my heart, didn’t mean it. My mum had the same job! You know how much I admire your passion and dedication. I love you. And to make up for fucking up date night, I brought some McDonalds and some snacks… Wanna watch a movie, angel?”
You nodded, smiling, and pressed your lips to his lovingly, trying to express how much he meant to you in any way you could.
And he reciprocated, pouring all his affection and love into the kiss.
In that moment, you felt as though your relationship was truly unbreakable.
“Oh, and Luke,” you mumbled between kisses.
“Mhm?” he hummed, now scattering doting kisses down your neck.
“You also need to make it up to Molly. You scared the shit out of her,” you giggled.
In an instant, Luke left your side and kneeled beside the dog bed, cooing attentively to Molly.
You smiled, watching from the doorway.
God, how you loved this man.

Hope you liked this one! I’ll post the other 3 within the next week, hopefully.
Love always,
Steph x

#106 - For hermosadecadencia, thesambuca, & placidus

Filling the prompts “van being in love with this girl while meeting the reader and they become friends and all but she breaks up with him and van is a fucking mess like drunk everyday and all that and the reader just stays with him and they slowly fall in love” from @hermosadecadencia and “a relationship … built on music” from @thesambuca and  "van dating a guy when you meet / before you get together ? because van mcpann is a blessing" from @placidus

With a record in each hand, a decision had to be made. Bowie. Joy Division. Technically, both could have been bought. It would just mean you’d be eating more two minute noodles that week. You quickly surveyed the room to see if there was anyone around that could help. There was a girl at the counter, but she was a) on her phone and looked busy with that, and b) was so pretty you felt nervous at the thought of even asking her opinion. There was a group of girls over in the ‘just in’ section frothing about The 1975. A guy with a mohawk that reached high into the air appeared to be also agonising over a decision; his was between Cannibal Corpse and The Doors. You hoped he picked Jim. The only other person in the store was a normal looking guy. He was flicking through the film soundtracks. 

Approaching him slowly, he turned to you. His smile was an invitation for conversation, and you held the two records up. “Please help,” you said. He laughed and took them from you.

“Well, both are staples in your collection, yeah? So you can’t go wrong. But, would 'ave Joy Division done so well if Curtis hadn’t… you know?” the guy said. 

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Reunion Scrapyard Makeout

I will never get over the reunion scrapyard scene. Its just the way they’re sat together in labourers clothes, far more alike then they’ve ever been, putting in some hard graft. Sitting impossibly close despite the stretches of space, just having casual banter, back and forth conversation. Its slightly out of character the amount Aaron talks, almost as if its Danny delivering lines, but its actually putting up a facade for Andy and Paddy. The constant stream of words continues as they walk away together with a natural sway to their strides mimicking one another like animals two by two. 

Then as soon as they enter the scrapyard portacabin both of them visibly relax as Robert leans against the door sexily and Aaron’s shoulders come down to rest with a sigh. Robert’s voice drops an octave and fills the room with a lightness and soft tone that’s both entrancing and soothing. Aaron seems entirely consumed by his presence, his body naturally leaning towards Robert. Robert too is thrusting his hips, his body begging for Aaron. 

When Aaron takes charge and totally engulfs Robert’s space I always feel so overwhelmed. Aaron’s dominance is charged with an urgency and aggression that is sexy and so Aaron. The way he attacks Robert’s jacket and tight white top pulling them off him is so desperate, like he needs Rob’s bare skin now. Robert’s eagerness is bordering on adorable, the way he helps Aaron get rid of his own clothes is strangely cute, like they’re sharing the workload again. The way Robert is grinning so cheekily, like he;s absolutely chuffed just to be in Aaron’s company again. When they do actually get their kit off Aaron presses his hand against Robert’s bare waist, his hand looks massive on Rob’s little tummy. My favourite thing though is through that whole manouvering they refuse to remove their lips off each other. They continue kissing repeatedly, mercilessly, like they’re making up for lost time. Even once Rob’s white top gets pulled over his head there’s not even half a second before they reconnect and reattatch themselves to one another. 

Then we see them getting redressed. I was surprised to see Aaron putting his jacket back on, I kinda presumed he only ever took his top off in really private moments when they’re in bed and Robert begs him. so I’m guessing Robert just pulled his jacket off him so he can appreciate those muscled biceps in his t-shirt. Robert is so much more blase about getting everything back on, taking his time, letting Aaron memorize his body. 

I’m not even going to get in the territory of Robert asking Paddy so kindly “not to give Aaron a hard time, because he doesn’t deserve it”, because that officially killed me and revived me. 

Movie Night: Side Prompto

Prompto’s turned out a little longer than Noct’s. Maybe it’s because the movie I chose means so much to me. Minor spoilers for Howl’s Moving Castle.
Tagging some hunnies: @neko-otaku13 @themissimmortal @itshaejinju @rubyphilomela @insomniacapples  (let me know if its not okay to tag you and I’ll stop)

“And we clip this back like so…” you were muttering to yourself as you pulled a blanket aside, holding it up slightly using a hair claw. You stepped back, taking a moment to admire your handiwork. “Okay, perfect!”

You smiled to yourself, proud of the blanket fort you’d built in your lounge, created out of all the pillows, cushions and blankets in your home and three dining chairs. It opened at the front to ensure you had a perfect view of the television and had a small, foldaway table placed inside to hold snacks and drinks. Now, all you needed was—

“I’m back!”

Oh, never mind, there he is.

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I’m looking forward to leaving this behind - Robert week - Day 3

“What have you done? You lunatic!”

“You’re on your own son.”

The miles were growing, he was getting further and further from Emmerdale. The ache in his chest was getting bigger all the time. Why did he care, why should he? They didn’t. His Dad could say he didn’t hate him all he liked but Robert knew the truth, he could see it in his eyes.

He wonders when it started, when did his own father turn against him. He wasn’t an angel, far from it but you’re supposed to be able to rely on your Dad aren’t you. He’s always supposed to be there for you. He managed it perfectly fine with Andy.

Of course with Andy. Didn’t it always come back to Andy.

He wonders idly what Andy would have to do for his Dad to turn on him, to send him away. Probably nothing short of blowing up the whole village he thinks with a snort. Probably even then he’d find a way to excuse it. Just like he did with Mum.

Through the sudden tears he sees a sign for a service station. It was better than nothing and he wasn’t stupid enough to keep driving like this, his eyes full of tears, his hands shaking. He’d get something to eat and try and work out what to do. He couldn’t go home. He had no other family nearby, or none that he knew well enough. Even if he did, he had no idea where they were. There was just his gran.

Sandwich and drink in hand he sits at a table by the window, knows the girl didn’t believe his story about having a cold for a second. The rain is beating down on the windows matching his tears. He’s glad he sat in the corner away from everyone.

He’s got a tight grip on his phone, he just needs to pluck up the courage to make the phone call. She’s always been there for as long as he can remember. She’s taken him in before when he’s needed her, surely she’ll do the same this time. Before he can think any more he finds the number.

“Gran, it’s me.” He sniffs at the sound of her voice, a voice that made him think of the old farm, of tea in front of the range, or a roaring fire. “Can I come and stay with you for a while?”

“This is where you should be. It’s your rightful place.”

He doesn’t belong there anymore. He doesn’t know if he ever did. He’s always wanted more. More than the farm, more than the endless hard graft for little reward. When Andy said he should stay he went cold, the mere thought of it making him shiver. He couldn’t get out of there fast enough.

As soon as he reached the edge of the village he felt it, weighing down on him, the old feelings of disappointment, of not being good enough, not being what everyone wanted him to be. He couldn’t go any further, couldn’t face the church and his family. It was his Gran who had told him, she was the only one he spoke too, still visited when he could. She would be angry with him, he’d told her he’d be there, had promised her.

He’s got a new life now, with Chrissie. It’s new, he’s only known her a few months. He feels like he’s finally settling down. Maybe he will end up being the man his Dad wanted him to be after all.

He doesn’t get much further, pulls into a layby. He can’t just go. He doesn’t see himself ever coming back here, not anymore, but looking at the rose on the seat beside him he knows he he should say goodbye. Then he’ll be gone. Forever.

“I’ll never forget you.”

Ten years. It felt like longer. So much had happened.

“I came back Dad. In the end. I spent so long staying away, trying to find a way of being someone you’d be proud of. Would you ever have been proud? Even when I had the big house and the beautiful wife? Probably not. Still, doesn’t matter anymore.” He’d come here alone. It was barely dawn. He’d not slept, so he’d crept out of bed, leaving Aaron snoring, tiptoeing past Liv’s room and out of the front door. “I’m happy, Dad. Really happy. It’s taken so long but I made it. I doubt you’d approve but he’s taught me that it doesn’t matter, that it was your problem, that I didn’t do anything wrong. Anyway that’s all I came to say.”

He got up and walked away from the grave, wiping away the stray tear that was making its way down his cheek. He knew Victoria would persuade him to come back here later on but he wanted to do this alone. As he passed he saw Bob opening up for the day and he decided to treat Aaron to his favourite cup of coffee.

“You’re about early today.” Bob greeted him with a smile as he paid.

“Just been to the graveyard. It’s Dad’s anniversary.” He liked Bob, always a smile on his face, always chirpy.

“Oh…well, that’ll warm you up anyway.” Robert smiled, glad there were no sympathetic words, he couldn’t handle them.

He leaves with a smile and makes his way back down the village. He’s hoping Aaron’s still in bed where he can join him. It had taken a long time for them to get back to being them, but finally two years after they got married, he thinks they might be there.

“Where’d you go?” Is the sleepy question as he slips back into bed beside him, coffee on the bedside table waiting for the smell of it to reach Aaron’s nose.

“To see Dad.” He can’t resist planting one of his freezing hands on Aaron’s stomach, chuckling as he squirms away. It’s revenge for all the times he’s done it.

“You ok?”

“Yeah.” He really thinks he is. It’s taken a long time and he’s come a long way from being the lad exiled from the village and told never to come back.

For a long time he didn’t think he would, wouldn’t if it had been his choice he supposes. Has Lawrence to thank for that. Thinking about not being here, not meeting Aaron makes him shudder and Aaron turns over, mistaking it for cold, and runs his hands up and down Robert’s arms. He finally belongs, finally has a family that doesn’t expect anything from him.

“I was thinking.”

“Uh-oh.” That earns Aaron a pinch to his side. “Go on then, astound me.”

“Thought maybe we could go out to Spain, me you and Liv, visit my Gran.” She knows about Aaron but he’s never quite built up the confidence to take him to meet her, it’s never seemed like the right time, but he doesn’t have forever, he knows that. She reminds him of it every time they speak.

“Can do, if you’re sure.”

Later they’ll both go back to the graveyard, with Vic and Adam, and Diane. He’ll say all the right things, do what’s expected, listen as they tell their stories of Jack Sugden, how good he was, how fair, how he loved all his children. He doesn’t add his own story but he can listen and not be filled with bitterness, not anymore, because Aaron’s standing by his side, holding his hand tightly.

It makes him realise that coming back here was the best thing he ever did.

ieatcellphones  asked:

Hi Pru! I was reading what you said about Distanglement, that Eduardo’s father’s love is the kind you endure from a distance and that you related it to your own father. Lately I've been feeling that way with my own dad; our relationship is so volatile because we are both stubborn and can't help but butt heads any time we are together. Do you have any advice on dealing with that? It hurts because I love him and I know he loves me but it's like we bring out the worst in each other :(

This is the case with so many parental relationships: that intense love, intense closeness, intensity of expectation – it all marries into such a complicated and potentially hurtful situation. 

For me, it was getting older, it was getting kinder, more forgiving, learning to just let things go, to give way – and I’m sure that as I got older and did these things, my father did the same, that we both retreated and it gave us enough space to breathe. 

When I was younger, I was so desperate for validation, for my father to agree with my worldview and my choices, when in reality that was never going to happen. I’m my own person, and he has an entirely different lived experience. I needed to grow up and get confident in my own choices, to be comfortable and happy with them whether or not he could underwrite or support those decisions – that’s something that came with time and with the wear of years, but now when my father says something critical to me, I can see it not as the cutting, destructively cruel comment I would have at 16, and recognize it as his opinion, one that I can listen to and respect, but ignore because I’m an adult and my opinions are just as valid, and more so, when it comes to my own life. This never comes easy. This often only comes with time.

I also had to learn to forgive him, for not being magical and a mindreader, not being the precisely and perfectly bespoke creation of a father that I desperately needed at any given time. It’s as I got older that I realized with more and more clarity that not only were my parents flawed people, they were flawed people who were – like me – doing the best they could with whatever limited experience and information they had at the time. My poor father had never had a 15 year old daughter before, never had a 16 year old daughter before, never had an 18 year old daughter before. Every day and hour and incident was a new and probably terrifying experience of vertigo: I relied on him for so many things, and he needed to give me as much of it as he could – financial support, safety, a future, wisdom, kindness, love. It’s too much. And kids are like that little shit from the Giving Tree. We take, endlessly, because we don’t know any better, and it’s not until the benefit of hindsight that we reflect on our parents and the people who were so generous with us with anything approaching clarity. My father was by no means perfect, he was an enormously toxic factor for many years of my life. And even though it doesn’t change the reality of it, it does matter that it wasn’t deliberate. That he did the best he could. Life both does, and does not, give points for effort. At least I give points for effort.

And finally, on the topic of space? Truly it was distance that saved our relationship. I fought viciously and constantly with my father until I was 18, at which point I moved out of my parents’ house and I’ve never been back for longer than two weeks since, for holidays, for visits. But even so, I’m closer with him and more secure in our relationship now – we text, we email, we don’t scream at each other anymore. 

It’s taken more than three decades, but I can say without reservation that I love my father, and that most days I even really like my father. But it’s work. It’s a choice. It’s hard graft sometimes. But I suspect that you already know that it is worth it. 

I’m sending you all the patience and fortitude I can – best of luck. 


BBC Michael Palin in Wyeth´s World

Michael Palin heads for rural Pennsylvania and Maine to explore the extraordinary life and work of one of America’s most popular and controversial painters, Andrew Wyeth. Fascinated by his iconic painting Christina’s World, Palin goes in search of the real life stories that inspired this and Wyeth’s other depictions of the American landscape and its hard grafting inhabitants.

Tracking down the farmers, friends and family featured in Wyeth’s magically real work, Palin builds a picture of an eccentric, enigmatic and driven painter. He also gets a rare interview with Helga, the woman who put Wyeth back in the headlines when the press discovered he had been painting her nude, compulsively but secretly for 15 years.  

Liverpool ace Sadio Mane is teetotal and a devout Muslim… he’s far from your average top-flight footballer

Sadio Mane leans back in his chair and giggles. He is a serious kind of man but this time, he just can’t help it.

He has mentioned that he comes from a religious family in Senegal and so he has been asked how often they went to church when he was a child. ‘They are Muslims,’ he says, still laughing, 'so not so much church.’

Mane is popular at Liverpool’s Melwood training ground. He is friends with everyone, known for being humble and self-effacing. If some Premier League footballers give the impression they have been consumed by celebrity lives, Mane does not fit the stereotype.

Many, though, saw his signing as part of a trend under Jurgen Klopp’s management of Liverpool. Klopp, like Sir Alex Ferguson, buys players for their character as well as their football ability and Mane is a man to admire.

He grew up in the small village of Bambali, deep in the south of Senegal, where his father was the imam at the local mosque. When a Senegalese reporter visited last month, he was told that Mane had recently paid for the mosque to be reconstructed.

There were also rumours, the reporter noted, that Mane, like some other high-profile African footballers, was planning to plough money back into the region and start more projects to help local communities.

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Accidents Happen...

Fandom: The Maze Runner
Pairing: Newt x Reader
Warnings: N/A 
Writer: imaginesofeveryfandom aka thequeenofthehobbits
 Requested by anon: a newt/reader fanfic of the post where newt walks in on you in the shower? please!! :)

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anonymous asked:

Would you recommend animation as a career? I'm interested in doing 3D animation, but keep hearing that all animators tend to be overworked and eventually burn out. I'm curious on your take, as an experienced animator! :)

If you’re passionate about it, definitely pursue animation.  Even when it’s bad, at least you’re doing something you’re interested in (or were once, and may be again) rather than any of those million other thankless jobs people do just for the paycheque. The money’s all right and the people are almost universally nice to work with, plus you have the sort of job everyone wants to hear more about at parties. ;)  Plus you’re more likely to get a job that relates to your interests than if you got, say, a History degree.  But if it is just an interest and not a passion, and you want it to be simply a job rather than a vocation, animation may not be for you.  My 2nd year animation teacher described working in animation like being married to someone with a mental illness: it can really chew you up sometimes, and without the love it’ll wear you down, but if the love is there, then it can be amazing.  Even an easy animation job is really hard work, but if you love it it doesn’t really feel like work in the same way that, say, selling shoes would do.

The CG animation world at the moment is really at a turning point in terms of working conditions.  The exploitative business model of the VFX industry has started leaching into feature animation as well; both Disney and Pixar (I don’t know about Dreamworks or the other big players) currently operate on a crunch/layoff cycle which is both exhausting and demoralising.  Some VFX studios have made motions to unionise, which would impose some guidelines on working hours and pay, and some people in feature animation are voting with their feet and finding less prestigious jobs which allow them to see their families more than 3 months a year.  But … some people stay, so there must be something worthwhile? Studios are happy to take advantage of people’s love of their job and willingness to go the extra mile, but that wouldn’t happen if there weren’t that love in the first place. At unionsied studios there’s a problem of people working undeclared overtime, when they voluntarily spend extra time on their scene. (I knew someone who would take his work home so no one would spot him staying late.)

There’s an idea in animation of ‘doing your time,’ i.e. you have to suck it up and do some hard grinding at the beginning of your career to get you to a professional position where you can be employed on your own terms. While some might dispute the health of that notion, the way the industry is now, there’s some truth to it, so it really depends what you want out of your career and how strategically you employ your limited ‘hard graft’ years.  It’s people who don’t know when to draw the line, and people whose love of the art form wasn’t up to the level of graft it demanded, that tend to burn out.  But it’s also possible to come back from burnout, so it kind of depends how much you want it.

If you find a decent school that prepares you, both skills-wise and experience-wise, for the realities of life as a professional animator, then school should be a pretty good indicator of whether or not animation is for you.  You may find you get tired of looking at your clip for the fifth day in a row; you may also find you’ve discovered something you can really apply yourself to and see yourself flourishing.  It’s impossible to know until you try!

And before you come to any decisions – ask other people besides me!  I have never worked in CG animation myself, only know people who do, so I am not the most informed source.  I know I have a few CG animators amongst my followers – any advice?