#e writes

Actually having a mildly horrible end of a great weekend, but all the tags made me feel so much better, you lovely bunch ❤️ Thank you @thatnervouswreck, @nerdyfangirl76, @livflahertydingle, @aaronsugdens, @illbeyourreasonwhy, @robertbugden, @capseycartwright, @maybemystcha, @jackiemerrick, @what-you-own, @serena-sugden, @jcforsapphics. Love you ❤️

Found myself thinking about my new current comfort project a lot.

“What’s wrong with you?” Liv asks, and when he lifts his gaze to her, she’s frowning at him, “You haven’t even touched your acid blob.” “Pickled beetrot is good for the gut.” he can’t help but remind her, and Liv makes a disgusted face.  “And you usually vacuum them from the plate first.” her expression changes again, her gaze sharpening in a way that doesn’t suit someone so young, and there’s something inside Robert that breaks every time she looks at him like that with these eyes that have seen so much already.  Two years ago, Robert promised Liv that he wouldn’t be like other adults in her life, her little hands gripping his arms as she asked him to never lie to her. So now, he puts the fork down, catches her gaze above the table, and smiles in the best way he can.  “Liv.” he starts, and hates how her fingers twitch around a glass, “Do you remember when  we spoke about what would happen if your dad or brother reached out?”

Writing isn't going well at all this week, but I do have something to offer!

“He needs some time.” Jimmy explains, as calm as a millpond, when he takes the phone from the inside of his suit jacket and taps the screen, the melody cutting off, “Hence I advised you to drink your wine, it really can soothe the nerves…”

“How could you let him go alone?” Vic’s voice is high-pitched and full of disbelief, and Aaron would join her one-woman choir in demanding answers if he weren’t caught up in the way Jimmy’s smile softens, becoming even kinder if a little bit sad.

“The thing is, Victoria, that he has been quite lonely for a pretty long time.” he says gently, and the sentence stings Aaron like a stab to the gut.

Thank you so much for tagging me @barnbert, @aaronsugdens, @sugdenkatie & @robertbugden 🥰

I hoped that a weekend full of hiking would inspire me to work on my wips but guess what? My brain came up with another one, so here comes a tiny little bit.

The knocking repeats, more aggressive this time, and something unpleasant rolls through Robert as he reaches for the door, warily bracing himself for whoever is on the other side.

There's a bloke there, standing so close the tips of his boots are nudging the threshold. He must be a couple of years younger than Robert, and incredibly tired, if to go by the circles under his eyes and the pale shade of his skin, contrasting with the black of his clothes. He seems exhausted and determined, and something tugs at Robert's heart, quietly but surely.

“How can I help-”

“My sister.” the bloke blurts out, “I want to see my sister.”

Robert’s brain short-circuits, blanks for a second and then carries him back to that meeting late at night, Liv curled into an exhausted ball on a corner sofa, and a caseworker explaining her family situation. An unreachable father whom Sandra seemed to be afraid of in rare moments she was sober enough to emote, and a brother who had skipped the country to avoid a warrant hanging over his head.

Only now, apparently, he's on Robert's doorstep.

The days have been tough, but I have a little bit of serendipity au, my joy.

He’s late. He was given a chance, and he has bloody wasted it, and there’s anger bubbling inside him. He’s angry at himself, at many decisions he has made, starting on that night three years ago, and he’s angry at the universe, for getting them so close he can imagine he can smell Robert’s cologne, that spicy, earthy scent not fully drowned in the sickening aroma of the flowers. 

“You’ve just missed the show.”

Aaron flinches, raising his head just in time to see a middle-aged man emerging from behind the arc, carrying a bucket and a mop.

“I figured.” Aaron mutters, closing his eyes and breathing through a wave of nausea, and he really needs to get in better shape. “I’ll be going in a second.” 

“The drinks are in the ballroom, down the hall on the left.” the man informs him kindly, slapping the mop on the floor with a wet splash. Aaron has no intention of going to the drinks. He imagines seeing Robert, wedding band golden like his hair, and he might actually have to throw up. Then, as if he were a top-tier masochist, he imagines actually going to Robert, congratulating him, and seeing absolutely no recognition on his face.

Really enjoying writing the last chapter of my serendipity AU, this silly thing makes me so happy.

Aaron isn’t keen on public humiliation, and he hasn’t really thought past I need to stop the wedding. If he were anyone else, he would question his sanity, about to object during the wedding of a man he spent only one night with. But he was meant to be at this wedding, and it has to mean something. Everything that has happened up to this moment has bloody meant something; that’s why Aaron swallows down all his fears of public speaking and pushes the door open.

“Wait-!” 

There’s no wedding to stop, because no one is here anymore. Aaron freezes, the door clicking shut behind him, his chest heaving as he takes the room in, all of the one hundred fifty empty chairs, and the obnoxiously stunning flower arc, pink roses and white lilies that for sure made the pictures perfect.

“Well, well, I’d like to say I’m surprised, but not really.” Cain’s tone is almost amused as he leans against the doorframe, a little smirk playing at his lips, “I hope you’re not distracting Aaron too much, Sugden.”

Aaron feels himself tensing, ready to step in if needed. 

“I’m only providing my very professional expertise." Robert says, smooth and bright. He’s still smiling, looking calm and-

Beautiful. He’s so beautiful that Aaron has to curl his hands, his fingernails digging into the soft flesh of his palms so he doesn’t think about it, doesn’t think about himself, because it really shouldn’t matter now.

“Haven’t lost your touch, eh?” Cain hums, taking a step closer, looking at the Fiat 500 Aaron has been working on, “Looking good. Why don’t you go and have a pint? Tell Chas to put it on me, I’ll stop by after closing up here.”

Chapter 3 of my angsty yearning baby is almost done, so here's a little bit.

“I really miss it.” Robert whispers, his fingertips brushing thin skin by Aaron's ear, and Aaron fights against the need to close his eyes, lean into his hand, stay like this forever, “Touch.”

Aaron knows Robert well enough to realize how much it takes for him to admit that, to bare his soul to someone, even to Aaron, with whom it has seemed easier for a reason none of them ever tried to talk about.

“I can touch you.”