don't freak out

Thanks to all these incredible, beautiful people for the tags: @robrondale @maybemystcha @illbeyourreasonwhy @jackiemerrick @thatnervouswreck @barnbert @aaronsugdens @nerdyfangirl76 @stuckinanothertimezone

This is just a teeny tiny bit from chapter four of we've got our wings and we're chasing the wind (bartender/mechanic part2). I'm working on this one today, to hopefully post later tonight but we will see 😊😊

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A haunting feeling creeps into his gut like he's being watched. Eyes are glued to him from all corners of this darkness he's entered into, but he can't say who's.

He tries to breathe but no air enters his lungs. He tries to blink but all he sees is an empty black limbo. He tries to lower his heartrate, now pumping blood through his body faster than a jackhammer, but something or someone is holding it in their grasp, squeezing it and letting it go, squeezing and letting it go until he feels moments from passing out.

Suddenly the blackness shifts. And he's in a graveyard. Darkness lies thick like a blanket, the energy of this place ghostly and cold. Thrown off balance he turns and turns reading name after name on graves that always haunt him, hurting him like whiplash.

Jackson Walsh.

Donna Windsor

But also…

Adam Barton.

Robert Sugden.

When his eyes land on the last one he wants to scream and cry and rip out his hair. Even more so when the darkness shifts again and materialising out of the ground, Robert's boots crunch on the dirt where he supposedly lies. He wears a leather jacket, black like the air around them, but his face is rippling with coldness and animosity, eyes like daggers digging a hole into him.

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tagged by @stuckinanothertimezone @nerdyfangirl76 @aaronsugdens @barnbert @jackiemerrick and @illbeyourreasonwhy thank you my loves <33 sometimes you just gotta write that silly self-indulgent fic what can I say

“You can’t go around picking fights with everyone who looks at you funny. It’s not good for you, or for the business—” “So, this is about the business,” Aaron sardonically laughs. “Now it makes sense. You want me gone so I don’t stuff anything up for you.” “That’s not what I’m saying, Aaron. You’re a danger to yourself! The last thing you need is to be locked up again.” “So, you’re going to imprison me on a farm instead? You seriously think sticking my hand up some cow bums is going to sort me out?” “Oi!” Cain bellows. “Do you want me to call the coppers and dob you in? Cause it’s no skin off my back, mate.” “Cain.” Chas eyes her brother carefully. “It’s his decision.”

An elbow to the ribs snaps Robert from his reverie, and he realises both Victoria and Aaron are staring at him like he typically stares at Andy: like he’s an idiot.  “Earth to Rob… most people say hello when they meet a new person.” Robert drains the last of his beer, suddenly parched and desperate for a fresh one. “Mhm, must’ve missed that seminar in social studies,” he quips dryly before turning back to Aaron and managing to sound like a normal human being when he says, “Alright, mate? Enjoy the show?” Aaron nods. “Yeah, ta. You were alright.” “Just alright? Steady on, I’m still trying to ride the high, y’know. You’ll drag me back down to earth if you’re not careful.” Victoria grins. “Leave off. Besides, Aaron should know! He plays the guitar too, he’s dead good!” “Is he now?”

aaron finally showing up in this robron fic? it's more likely than you'd think... aka the band au continues to take over my brain like a parasite

thank you to @stuckinanothertimezone @nerdyfangirl76 @aaronsugdens @barnbert @thatnervouswreck @jackiemerrick @illbeyourreasonwhy for the tags! <3

Hello, hi, I'm still alive and I hope you are too. Still making slow, slow progress on my many many sentences. Here are a couple of them.

As Bobby invites Ravi upstairs to help with dinner, Buck jogs after Athena, who moves swiftly with a longer stride than seems possible for her height. She waits for him at the office door and then, once he's in, closes it firmly behind them. "Whatever it is, I have an alibi," Buck says, testing the temperature of whatever it is they're about to get into. A smile partially lifts her lips, letting him know that he's neither in trouble nor that funny and she says, "Have a seat, Buck." He does and she pulls a small notepad from her pocket before taking her own seat in Bobby's chair and Buck realizes that, oh, this is an official visit. She isn't here to ask for his help with a surprise party. "Do you remember the young man you assisted at the end of your last shift? Dark hair? Pinned under an F-150?" The memory of blood and rain instantly fills Buck's senses and he rubs his suddenly sweaty palms on his jeans. "Hard one to forget," he says. "I'm sure." "Did he- Is this- Are you doing a murder investigation?" Manslaughter, his mind fills in, but Buck has a hard time thinking of mowing someone down and leaving them to die as anything other than cold-blooded. He can still hear the kid's gurgling breaths and his own starts to stutter. "Not yet. The victim has to be deceased before we can officially declare it a murder, but we are investigating the hit and run." "Wait, he survived?" "I wouldn't go that far," Athena says, wryly.

thank you @stuckinanothertimezone for the tag xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Aaron spends the rest of the day stewing - about Robert and his disbelief in Aaron's commitment to him, about Kev and his fucking arrogance, about all the time he and Robert have already lost together.

He snaps at his contact and at the client, and he knows he won't be invited back, which he'll have to explain to Vinny, but it's getting dark and he's exhausted and angry so his focus is just on getting home.

Robert's been texting him intermittently, inane nonsense about the farm - apparently one of the cows has taken a liking to Matty and follows him around the field whenever he's out there - and even though it's nearly impossible to tell tone from the messages, they feel strained, like Robert's putting on a brave face, like he's been doing nonstop for years at this point.

His last text had simply said, good night, see you in the morning. love you, and there's an implicit instruction not to drive through the night, but Aaron ignores it.

He doesn't turn the radio on as he drives, the thrumming of his blood hot in his veins enough to keep him awake. He just keeps coming back to a somewhat childish thought of how unfair it all is, wishing for once it would be easy. Don't they deserve easy, after everything, after how hard they've had to try?

thank you to @nerdyfangirl76 @aaronsugdens @barnbert @thatnervouswreck for the tags

posting slightly inebriated on my train home from london rn (“omg” you all say, “did you see MCR in concert?”) why, yes i did lovely inquirer, i did indeed see MCR live and i am a changed person now, that’s so nice of you to take an interest! (“i’m glad you had such a good time!” you all reply)

as a reward for such a successful conversation, have this which i think is eight sentences but also maths isn’t my strong suit

They’re all drunk and loud and the older boys have decided it’ll be funny if they rob someone. Aaron hasn’t been home for nearly a week - he’s been crashing on Mitch’s sofa and pressing his hands over his ears when his grotty girlfriend visits - and they all laugh when he brings up the probable missing persons report his dad’s filed.

Then again, that would involve his dad noticing that Aaron’s absent from the house and with how focused he’s been on Sandra and the stupid baby who’s not even born yet, he might not have. Aaron scowls at the thought and takes another drink from the beer can he’s holding. He doesn’t really like beer yet but Danny and Mitch tell him he’ll learn to. It’s part of it; the drinking and the smoking and the smashing car headlights. Aaron doesn’t mind the smoking. It used to make him sick and dizzy but he’s used to the ashen taste in the back of his throat now.

Today does not bring joy, but romcomming does, hence here's a bit from chapter 4 of my serendipity au!

Now, however, propping himself up against the fluffiest pillows he ever touched, he can have a proper look. As he was reminded by Vic multiple times, Robert is marrying into money. Vic claims he isn't a gold digger, thathe's doing well for himself, but this place was definitely chosen by a woman, a woman who is used to basking in wealth. The colour palette is mostly cream, soft gray and various shades of blue, a design Aaron would see in some of the magazines his mum snatches from her hairdresser. 

It's posh and luxurious and smells like roses, but it's still not the favourite room in Manchester Aaron ever stayed in. This title still belongs to that dimly lit room filled with boxes and books, smelling of cedar and tasting of sweat and laughter. 

His phone pings before Aaron can get all nostalgic and horny, a text from Vic announcing that she's going to knock at his door in ten so they can go to breakfast, and Aaron sighs, forcing himself out of bed.