robert porch

anonymous asked:

“don’t you dare walk away.” Please and thank you. ❤️

“Don’t you dare walk away from me,” Aaron couldn’t hold back the anger in his voice, the hurt. Their front door was wide open, Robert halfway out the porch as he spoke, bag in hand.

“Aaron, please, don’t make this any harder than it has to be,” Robert has his back turned to him, shoulders hunched, as though it was taking all the strength he had in his body to not turn back around, to not come back inside.

“You don’t get to walk away from me,” Aaron said, decisive, determined. He crossed the few short steps between them, the gravel of their driveway crunching underneath his sneakers as he reached for Robert’s bag, yanking it from his husband’s grasp.

Chucking the bag onto the gravel, not caring what was inside of it, or if it was breakable, Aaron pulled at Robert’s elbow, forcing him to turn around.

Robert looked broken, brow furrowed and eyes glistening with tears as he stood, halfway out of the door, halfway out of Aaron’s life. “You’d be happier, if I was gone,” he said quietly, believing every word that he said.

Aaron could scream.

He could shout, and yell, and shake Robert for being so stupid, for believing they would be better apart. Over the years, they’d more than proven they were absolutely useless without each other, and Aaron couldn’t quite believe Robert thought leaving him, giving up on their marriage, was the right thing to do.

“Do you really think that?” Aaron couldn’t keep the laughter out of his voice, the sheer disbelief.

“All I’ve ever done is hurt you.”

All I’ve ever done is hurt you.

God, that wasn’t true.

Robert had hurt him plenty, over the years, hurt him in ways that had made Aaron feel as though his heart was being ripped from his chest, but Robert had done a whole lot more than just hurt him.

He’d been his best friend, his greatest supporter, exactly when Aaron needed him to be, always there, always willing to put Aaron before himself. He’d never really had that with anyone, not really.

He’d never had the honesty of their love with anyone.

Aaron had always been holding things back, with other boyfriends. He’d never wanted them to know the darkest parts of him, never wanted them to know about what had happened, but he told Robert.

He told Robert everything, good and bad.

Just, talking to Robert was his favourite thing to do, and Aaron had never been big on chat. He couldn’t just forget about all the good that had come of their love, of their relationship, the times he’d laughed, the hushed conversations under Aaron’s duvet during the early, tentative days of their newfound relationship, the easy date nights and the passion that had never left them.

He couldn’t just forget how much Robert made him feel loved, and important.

“You have done so much more for me than you realise,” Aaron said, quickly realising he’d been silent for too long, a worried expression on Robert’s face. “Robert, you’ve given me a home.”

Robert’s gaze flickered around the garden, the outside of the Mill.

“I don’t mean here. Well, I do,” Aaron said, thoughts jumbled in his head. “But you’ve given me so much more, Robert. I never - I never thought I could do the married thing, the coming home every night and cooking tea and watching the news together thing, but you’ve made me want to. You’ve given me - you’ve given me a place I feel like I belong, and I belong with you.”

Robert clenched, and unclenched his fists, shaking his head. “You’d be better off without me,” he said. “You’d find someone nice, someone who’d never hurt you like I have.”

“Maybe,” Aaron shrugged, knowing Robert probably wasn’t wrong, that there was another Ed out there, safe, and kind, ready to love Aaron, no complications. “But they wouldn’t make me feel like you do.”

“Angry? Sad?”

“Madly in love,” Aaron admitted, unable to wipe the grin from his face as he closed the space between him, and Robert, his husband trembling now, wavering on his decision to just up and go. “You drive me absolutely fucking crazy, Robert Sugden, and I love ya for it.”

Robert had softened now, trying to hold back a familiar smile, that genuine, real smile that he seemed to save for Aaron alone, the smile that was full of love, the smile that had always made Aaron look to the future, to the good times they were going to have together.

The good times they’d still be able to have.

“You don’t get to walk away from me,” Aaron repeated his earlier statement, shaking his head. “We’re in this for life, Robert, good and bad, so you don’t get to walk away from me.”

“It’s always going to be the good, bad and ugly with me,” Robert said, nervous again, as though he was trying to talk himself out of going back inside, of giving them another chance.

(Third? Fourth? Aaron didn’t know, or care. That was the thing with loving someone the way he loved Robert, he decided, you’d take all the chances in the world to get it right just once, because once was all it would take for a very happy ever after.)

Aaron shrugged, jerking his head toward the Mill, the home they were making their own, and he echoed Robert’s words of so, so many months ago now. “Messed up forever, remember?”

anonymous asked:

#17 pls :))

height difference kisses where one person has to bend do wn and the other is on their tippy toes (also requested by @thisissirius )

Aaron is going away for a week. It shouldn’t matter. It should be normal. He has a job in France and he’s going away for a week. They’ve done this before. They’ll call every morning and every night. There’s only one hour difference. It’s fine.

It’s fine.

Only, this is going to be the first time they’ve been apart for any amount of time since Aaron went to prison. This is the first time they will have been apart since everything about Rebecca and the baby came out. Whenever anyone asks, they say they’re okay, because what else can they say? If they can’t make the world believe it then how can they convince themselves?

Robert watches from the porch as Aaron puts his suitcase in the car. He forces his face into a smile as his husband comes back over. It’s going to be okay. It has to be okay.

Aaron stops short of stepping into the porch. Instead he remains outside, his arms folded across his chest.

‘I’ll see you in a week, I guess.’

Robert knows he’s being paranoid, but he can’t he help but read into everything Aaron says.

I guess I’ll come back to you. I guess.

‘Drive safe,’ Robert says, smiling through the crushing pain in his chest.

Aaron gives Robert a small smile, resting his hands on Robert’s hips and going up on his tip toes to close the gap that the step places between them. The kiss is quick, and Robert can’t help but wonder if Aaron is desperate to get away.

‘I love you,’ Robert says.

‘You too.’

When he’s waved Aaron off, Robert goes upstairs to their bedroom. He stares at their bed, thinking about how empty it’ll be for the next week.

He wonders how much longer he’ll be welcome there.

Woc Series: O Mary Don’t You Weep AU

Hey guys!! This is a requested imagine where Harry and Y/N are together during segregation.  There will be multiple parts to this imagine, and this first one is really just setting up the background info so that the next few parts have more drama in them.  I do want to warn you guys that there is mentioning of violence and one usage of the n word.  I’m definitely not a proponent of that word; however, it is used in context of the time and the particular event that happens in this imagine.  As always, comment, give feedback, and ask questions! But most of all, enjoy!! Xoxo

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

*1957 in the South*

 “O Mary don’t you weep, don’t you mourn…. O Mary don’t you weep, don’t you mourn…. Pharaoh’s army got drowned…. O Mary don’t you weep…”

The boisterous voices of the choir reverberated through the church as one solid echo, the old hymn being sung with unrequited emotion.  The humidity present within the space sapped up the notes and Mrs. Patty May’s shrill voice punctuated the air, setting herself apart from the rest.  You watched from your place in the second pew as your father nodded his head along to the old spiritual, his eyes closed and his foot tapping, keeping beat.

You wiped at the back of your neck, collecting small droplets of sweat with your handkerchief; the church didn’t have air conditioning and it was stifling despite it being late morning—it was early summer and already it was sweltering enough to force the townspeople to sit on their shaded porches in the afternoons.

As the choir’s voices faded out and the hymn came to an end, your dad stood up and walked over to his pulpit.  You felt your kid sister pinch your arm gingerly, causing you to flinch slightly before looking over at her with a scowl.

“Can I have another peppermint?” She whispered, her eyes wide as she asked.  You huffed lightly, but reached into your pocket for the last piece of candy before giving it to her.  “Don’t suck on it loudly, Daddy’s about to start preaching again…” you warned her quietly before turning back to listen to your father.

“Amen,” the deep baritone of your father’s voice resonated through the church, and he grinned when the church folk echoed him.

“God is good ain’t he? He allowed us to wake up today, so please can I get another loud Amen?”  Your dad wiped at his forehead with his handkerchief as people—old and young alike—raised their hands skyward and yelled “Amen!”

You clapped softly before nudging your friend, Robert, to do the same.  He had a bad tendency of falling asleep or forgetting to clap at the appropriate times, and you often helped him out.

“You wanna go to Mr. Johnson’s to get ice cream after this?” He nudged you back as he asked you quietly. You smiled before nodding, “sure.”

~*~*~*

It was only an hour after church ended, and yet the air was humming with a heat that induced sluggishness. You watched, amused, as Robert kicked a small rock down the middle of the vacant street.  You licked lazily at the ice cream in your hand and hummed to yourself lightly.

“Have you heard from your brother?”  Robert looked back at you as he asked, his rock kicked a few steps ahead of him. You nodded, smiling faintly at the thought of your older brother.

“Harlem’s treating him just fine…. He’s trying to convince Daddy to let me come visit,” you gave Robert a tight-lipped smile, thinking of how stubborn your father could be.  You took another lick of your ice cream, the frozen treat acting as a perfect contrast to the sweltering heat that stuck firmly to your dark skin.

You heard Robert chuckle as he shook his head, “The day you go to Harlem… a southern gal like you…. that be the day them white folks catch me,” Robert looked back at you with a grin. Hating when he talked like that, you kicked one of the rocks in abundance in the road at the back of his shoes in defiance.

“Ayeee not my nice church shoes, woman!”  Robert grimaced before turning to walk backwards so that he could see you, forgetting about his kicking rock.  

“You know I hate when you talk like that..” you grumbled before taking another lazy lick at your ice cream; it was low enough in the cone so that it didn’t drip down your fingers, something that always happened to your kid sister.

“You know it’s just a joke, Y/N. They won’t touch me on this side of the tracks…” you watched as Robert stuck his hands into his pockets, his suit jacket slung over his broad shoulder and getting dirtied by the dust that the two of you were kicking up.  You narrowed your eyes at him and he made an annoyed face at you that caused you to roll your eyes.

“Still, it ain’t right to be talking like that… You ain’t got no reason to even say that tomfoolery,” you reprimanded him, your tone riddled with worry.  Robert had a habit of making offhand comments about white folks doing something to him, and it deeply troubled you.

The rest of the walk back to your home, right next to your father’s church, was quiet which was mainly your fault.  Robert had tried to lighten the mood and hold a conversation with you, but his words deeply stirred something inside of you that you couldn’t let go of.

You were so stuck in your head that you didn’t register that the two of you were standing at the steps to the house’s porch until Robert placed a hand delicately on your upper arm.

“Y/N…… I’m sorry, truly. I ain’t mean to make you like this. You look—well—you look like you seen a ghost.  Nearly as pale as a moon rock, woman.”  

You bit at your lip, trying to hide your grimace, before looking up at Robert.  The brown skin of his face had darkened from working on his father’s tobacco farm, his eyes a deep brown that matched his skin with a nice broad nose and full lips.  His hands were rough and calloused, and more than anything you wished you could see a future with him; that your summers would always involve going to Mr. Johnson’s for ice cream, and nudging each other at church.  You wished that you wanted him to be yours, so that you wouldn’t have to have nightmares about his foolish words.  But reality was harsh, and you knew that you’d never really belong to him.

Before you could stop yourself, you flung yourself into his arms and hugged him impossibly close. His muscled back flexed from underneath your small hands as he hugged you back immediately.  You breathed in the scent of him, a musky scent tainted by the tobacco, before pulling away.

“Thank you, Robert…. I’ll see you tomorrow…” you whispered before turning around and walking up the three concrete steps to the porch.  You turned to give him one last fleeting smile before you made your way inside the house; a dark premonition rooting itself deep in your belly.

~*~*~*~*~*~*

It was past midnight by a few hours, and you were becoming nervous.

You were sitting on the ledge of your bedroom window.  The moonlight filtered in through the open window, allowing the cacophony of night critter sounds to waft inside your small room along with hot, humid air and the sweet scent of the tall country grass.  

You were staring off into the darkness, just barely able to distinguish where the sky met the earth, and as you worried your bottom lip between your teeth, your mind wandered with garish possibilities of what could have caused such a prolonged delay.

He was never late before.

You breathed in the humid air before trying to cover up a cough when it got stuck in your lungs. You furrowed your brows, willing for the signal to appear from across the horizon; you desperately needed it to especially after your mind had taken a dark turn because of Robert’s careless words.

You didn’t know how long you continued to wait, but the night critters’ songs turned to background noise and goosebumps were beginning to arise on your bare arms when you finally heard a promising sound, the low roar of his truck’s motor accompanied by the signal: headlights flashing twice before going dark.

With barely a passing glance aimed behind you, you excitedly jumped off the ledge and forward into the grass below.  Your house dress shifted around your ankles as you quickly made your way from the side of the house, diagonal through the tall grass—occasionally swatting at offending bugs—and towards your boyfriend of three months.

The trek to him always seemed impossibly long; a small path was worn into the grass from dozens of nights of doing the same thing, and yet the five hundred meters to get to the road, to him, felt like five hundred miles.

You picked up your pace when you saw him exit the old truck to lean against the driver’s side.  You knew his eyes were watching you; whenever he looked at you your skin livened and buzzed as if electricity ran through your veins.  As you got closer you could make out his short hair and straight, pointed nose, and his muscled arms crossed against his chest.

And then you were only a mere ten steps away, and you could make out the green of his eyes, sparkling emeralds that reflected the stars, and his skin, an even paler white in the moonlight.

“Harry,” you breathed his name like a secret caress, watching as he stepped forward and uncrossed his arms.

Before he could respond, you dashed into his arms, jumping slightly into his embrace.  You felt his muscles flex as he held you so that your face was a hair higher than his own.  You felt a genuine smile grace your face as you breathed him in.  His eyes were sparkling and slightly crinkled on the sides as he smiled up at you.

“Hey, darlin,” the deep huskiness of his voice was so familiar and comforting.

Smiling down at him, you lowered your face to his before capturing his lips with your own. You would never get used to the shock of kissing him for the first time in days—the way that his lips, so supple and soft, seemed to electrify and zap your own in a comfortable burn.  Or the way you could hear the unsteady thumping of your heart in your ears, drowning out the ragged breaths that the both of you took.  The sweet taste of Harry and his wet tongue seemed to bombard your senses almost as much as the nectarous scent that he emitted, and as he gripped the back of your head with a large hand to deepen the kiss, you completely surrendered yourself to him.

Eventually you pulled away slightly, gasping for air as Harry set you down.

“I missed you,” you whispered, bringing up a hand to caress his cheek.  You fixed him with a small smile when his eyes softened, his green orbs roving over your face as if he was committing it to memory.

“I missed you more,” he told you earnestly causing your smile to deepen.

You placed your hand on his other cheek before standing on your tiptoes to place a peck on his lips. You smiled as you pulled away. Harry grasped both of your arms in his hands as his eyes bore into your own.

“You okay, Haz?” There was something akin to sadness in his eyes for some reason.

You watched as he blinked rapidly as if he was trying to rid of it before he nodded at you slowly, his lips pursed slightly.  You were about to question him about it more when he breathed in deeply before giving you your favorite dimpled smile that lit up his whole face.

“Let’s go for a drive,” he offered pleasantly; he squeezed your arms lightly as he asked you and you nodded your head as you answered, “sure.”

Harry, always a gentleman, helped you into the truck, and you scooted to the passenger side, watching Harry’s lean, tall figure follow you into the old vehicle.  You adjusted yourself so that you were up against Harry, his warmth a steady presence.

He started up the engine, keeping the headlights off precautionarily before pulling off from the side of the road and back onto the right side.

“Can we go onto your side of the tracks tonight?” You wondered aloud as you looked at Harry’s side profile, his eyes intently on the road.  However, when you asked, his eyes darted towards you quickly and flashed with something like fright before he turned back towards the road.

The truck was moving at a lackadaisical pace in the direction that took you further into your part of town causing you to furrow your brows slightly.

“Haz…” you murmured before reaching out for his arm.  The windows were down and slight breezes rustled loose tendrils about your face, his own hair whipping around.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, darlin…” Harry muttered, his tone off.  You pouted slightly, sensing that he was keeping something from you.

“Why not?” You pushed for an answer before laying your head against his shoulder, watching as Mr. Johnson’s general store passed by in the rearview mirror.

“It’s just… not that safe over there right now,” Harry peeked down at you for a beat, watching as you bit at your bottom lip.

“Ok,” you murmured.  A long moment of silence passed before you reached for the truck’s stereo to turn it on.

Immediately, the husky voice of Billie Holiday crooned softly as it invaded the compacted space.

“It cost me a lot, but there’s one thing that I’ve got….. It’s my man….”

A smile instantly graced your face as you heard the song.

“I can’t believe they’re playing this song.  It’s so old!” You exclaimed happily; it was your favorite Billie Holiday song; one that you owned on vinyl and listened to often.

You hummed along to the melody and closed your eyes before breathing in the musky scent of Harry’s truck; he had worked in his family’s bakery earning enough to eventually buy the old truck.  Sometimes the motor lagged, but it was all his and he was extremely proud of it.

You felt as Harry decreased his speed and pulled onto the side of the road again.  You opened your eyes when he drove carefully into the grass, the rougher terrain causing you to rock slightly in your seat.  He drove his usual one hundred yards or so into the open field, far enough away from the main road and anyone who would be out at this time of night.

You watched Harry turn off the engine with tense movements, and you frowned slightly when the two of you were thrown into silence.

“Haz,” you murmured, your tone coming out worried as you brought your other hand to rest on his arm. “Tell me what’s going on,” you cooed.

“I just love you so damn much, Y/N…” Harry grimaced lightly, his voice coming out gruff.  You felt your heart skip a beat as it always did whenever he expressed his love for you.

“I love you too,” you whispered, your heart melting as he turned towards you, his light eyes glistening.

“And I mean it, too. I ain’t gonna ever stop feeling this way, darlin….”  You smiled lightly at his words, rubbing his arm in soothing gestures.

“We’ll be okay, Harry,” you whispered, trying your best to ease his mind with your words.

You pursed your lips when he took in a shaky breath and furrowed your brows when he removed his hands from the steering wheel, noticing that they were shaking softly.

Harry sniffed lightly before turning his head to look out his window, hiding his pained expression from you.

“Everytime we sneak out we run the risk of getting caught… No one will care that we are in love. They’ll just see a white man and a negro woman….” Harry’s voice was hoarse, his words putting a chill in your spine.  You took a deep, steadying breath as your eyes began to sting with the beginning stages of tears.  You hadn’t had this conversation with him for weeks, but it always lingered over the two of you, weighing the both of you down.

With a careful hand, you reached up to run your fingers through his hair affectionately.  You felt the silkiness of it, so different from your own, and you fixed him with a watery smile when he turned towards you again, his face distraught.

“We’ll figure it out, Haz,” you whispered to him, completely believing your words.

With wide, earnest eyes you watched as Harry brought a trembling hand to the apple of your cheek, rubbing his thumb against your soft skin.

You leaned into his hand before moving towards him to lay your head on his chest.  Even through his shirt, you could hear the steady beating of his heart; a sound that you loved more than anything in the world.  Harry began to rub your back in large circular motions, and you placed a chaste kiss to the base of his throat lovingly.

“We’ll be ok,” you breathed as you closed your eyes, surrendering yourself to the calm feelings that took over you.  You listened to Harry’s breathing as it steadied.

There was something so enchanting about being with him in the silence of the truck.  The way in which time seemed to stop and the warm air wafted through the windows, bringing with it the sounds of nighttime critters and the sweet scents of summertime.  If you opened your eyes you would be able to see the stars, grouped in sparkling constellations.  You felt the calming rise and fall of Harry’s chest as he breathed from underneath your cheek, and every few minutes he would drop a kiss to the top of your head, his warm lips causing small grins to play across your face.  Rarely did the world ever feel perfect, but in these moments it felt irrevocably right.

You didn’t know how long the two of you stayed liked that, perfectly content with being in each other’s arms, but you opened your eyes and frowned lightly after some time when you heard the loud roar of multiple engines.  

You looked out through Harry’s window to see the far off flashes of headlights on the main road. Immediately a cold dose of fear ran up your spine to kiss the back of your hairline.  You quickly looked up at Harry to find his face pulled down in a frown. He sat up, his eyes trained on the empty road, the roar of the motors getting louder, the headlights illuminating the black of the road.

“We’re far enough off the road, right?” You whispered, highly concerned.  This wasn’t the first time that something like this happened, but the motors seemed louder, and you were always put on edge despite the proximity.

Harry’s eyes were trained on the road and he hushed you softly, his brows pulling in.  Your breathing halted, your chest beginning to burn from the lack of oxygen, and yet you didn’t dare make a sound.  Needing to feel safe, you grabbed Harry’s hand in the dark, squeezing it lightly and finding a small ounce of comfort in the warmth and sizeable nature of his hand.

With wide, frightened eyes, you watched the side of Harry’s face, at his downturned lips and the way his green eyes narrowed with focus.  His breathing was shallow, so shallow that your dark eyes dropped to his chest to see if he was even breathing.

However, your eyes shot up to the road when the roaring engines got closer—so close that you could have sworn the heat from them reached the cab of the truck—and you watched as three old trucks zoomed by, completely oblivious, they’re headlights barely having time to illuminate what was in front of them.

Your breath came out shaky as they passed and their motors died out.  Your eyes swung back up to Harry.  He looked like he had seen a ghost—his skin was clammy and pale, and his eyes held a wild look in them—you had never seen him like this before.

Quickly reaching out to place the back of your hand against the small space of his forehead, you proceeded to repeatedly asked him if he was alright.

It took a minute for him to respond to you, and his words came out tumbling over each other.

“Harry,” you called out his name, your voice quivering.  Something was not right and you were beginning to become scared.

“I need to get you home, Y/N,” His deep voice usually deep and steady came out frantic.

“What we’ve barely had time to even be in each other’s company…”

“Goddammit, Y/N!  I knew I shouldn’t have come to get you!” Harry’s outburst made you jump.  Blinking quickly, surprised, you grew confused.

“Harry,” your voice came out steadier than you felt.  “What is going on?” You asked again, your voice barely a whisper.

“They killed a boy,” Harry breathed out, his voice broken.  “They killed him.” He lowered his head to the steering wheel, his chest heaving in a broken sob.

Your blood immediately ran cold, your mind becoming light as if you were no longer controlling it.

“Who?” You asked quietly, your voice still remarkably unshaken.

“I don’t know, but apparently he’s been with a white girl from town.  Joseph, Billy, everybody went nigger hunting tonight and found him on our side and he was touching her… Jesus Christ.  They attacked him and lynched him,” Harry’s voice came out breathy and muffled but you heard every word that he uttered; each one was like a knife to your soul.

With shaking fingers you felt your wet cheeks, your body somehow frozen with the information that he presented you with.  You tried your best to take in a deep breath of air, but you choked slightly and wheezed, trying to regain your breath.

You didn’t know how long you stared at Harry with wide eyes and a gaping mouth but the tears on your cheeks eventually began to dry leaving white paths on your cheeks, and your breathing returned to normal.  You looked away from Harry for a split second before turning back towards him, your body just going through the motions.  He was beginning to breathe normally again but he was still leaned over the steering wheel.

Stiffly, you reached out to him and pulled him back, finding little resistance from his body.  Your face softened as you took in his red-rimmed eyes and his damp cheeks.  His eyes were distraught and you vaguely felt a pang in your heart.

Slowly, you leaned over to him before leaving a closed-mouth kiss on his lips, tasting the saltiness on his lips.  You pulled back before he returned the kiss, and breathed out a ragged breath.

“Can you drive?” You cleared your throat as you eyed Harry.  He looked so detached, but he eventually nodded at you, his eyes fixed on his lap.

“Can you please take me home?” You whispered as you felt tears begin to swim in your eyes again. You fiddled with the fingers that were in your lap, feeling like your body was being ripped apart but not feeling a thing.

Harry didn’t respond, but he started the old engine before accelerating slowly to get back onto the road. You tried to do your best to breathe in the saccharine sweet air, but each breeze that entered the cab chilled you and the critters sang acheful songs.

You watched, blankly, as Harry drove up on your house, only to feel the sharp pang of fright to run through your bloodstream once more.  The trucks you had seen were all parked in the church’s front lawn haphazardly.

You barely made out your mother’s figure as she turned around, alerted by the sound of the vehicle, her face tormented.

“Y/N!!” She shrieked, her eyes wide with something akin to distress.

Without thinking, you opened the door of the truck and jumped out, sprinting to your mother.  Her dark face was tired and hysterical, and you quickly urged her away from the direction of the truck so that she wouldn’t see Harry.

“Where have you been? Whose truck is that?” Her voice came out frenzied, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.  You quickly looked over your shoulder to see that Harry was gone, and you let out a breath that you had been holding since he told you what happened earlier.

“Mamma, what happened? Why are all these people at the church?” You looked around her and saw most of the men of the town coming together in a large group.  Their faces were dark with anger.  Your eyes searched for Robert, and you breathed lightly when you saw that he wasn’t there.  You prayed that he was home watching over his mother; she was older and needed assistance during the days and nights.

“Something terrible has happened..” Your mother cried out as she tried to push you towards the house.

“There’s been a lynching,” she continued gravely.  “They going to get the body and bring him home to his mamma.”

You felt chills erupt across your whole body.

“Jesus,” you murmured, your words shaky.

“But, Y/N.  There’s something else…”  Your mother sat you down on the steps of the porch, her voice fighting to be as comforting as possible.

Your mind was so fuzzy that you simply nodded up at her, your eyes wide, taking her in.

“I don’t want you to hear this from anybody else.  I’m so sorry, baby….” You looked at your mother, your mind muddled and being splayed as confusion on your face.

You watched as your mother’s face broke down and a few tears escaped from her dark eyes.

“Y/N…. it was Robert. He’s dead.”

Before you could react, your body lurched and you blacked out, your head hitting the hard concrete of the porch steps.

10

My day in photos. I woke up and lazed around in the morning and finished reading a book. Played with my tarot cards, and with some porch cats at a friends house. The black cat named toothless is very sassy. Cooked some scrumptious mushrooms. Went to Eckerts and looked at the beautiful orange and white pumpkins, and they also had these giant onions that I love. Browsed around the mall and had lunch, I’m trying to declutter my life and not buy objects but instead create memories. While window shopping I’ve come to the conclusion that people waste so much money on items that really have no symbolic attachments to them. It’s just things they want at the time. Went to Barnes and nobles and bought two books. I love buying them and then letting my friends have them to read, I usually then take them to a local resale shop that sells them at half price. I came home and ate a laughing cow ice cream sandwich, which was delicious😊

@und-e-ad liked for a starter!

Oh hey, there’s a dog absolutely terrorizing your yard.

Betsy the eternally cheerful and bug-eyed boston terrier was snuffling under the front porch of Robert’s new neighbor, Cedric Bray. Robert hadn’t spoken much to this new guy yet, but he knew Cedric’s name because Robert made a point of remembering just about all the miscellaneous information around him. Plus it was a memorable name. Had a nice ring to it. Would probably make a great fake name, except now Robert couldn’t use it, could he?

Anyway, Betsy had left a whole trail of uprooted plants and dirt in her wake, and it was pretty obvious that apologies were in order. Normally Robert would just grab Betsy and bolt but, well, Cedric was right there.  Robert had been caught. Also Betsy was out of reach under that porch.

Robert, for his part, slouched rakishly with a hand on his hip and his sunglasses perched reflectively on his blank face.

“You’ve got a fugitive under your house,” he said stoically.

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The Pup Fresh Podcast Episode #13 - Ben Barlow (Neck Deep) Interview // Front Porch Step + Austin Kerr Discussion

The Pup Fresh Podcast #13 featuring an interview with Ben Barlow of Neck Deep. Listen as we take a look back at the band’s history, their upcoming album, and what exactly Ben is Neck Deep in.

Before the interview, Dan and JWeb (@jwebmusic) discuss the Front Porch Step vs. Autumn Lavis court case and Austin Kerr asking for $15,000 for a defamation lawsuit.

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THE COLD ESCAPE – Robron fanfiction

THE COLD ESCAPE – Robron fanfiction

Words: 12228
Includes: fluffy fluff, skiing, domestic stuff, a hot tub, shower smex, heart to hearts, a drunken Chas, a jealous Robert and long beards.
Summary: Aaron and Robert go on a weekend trip with Aaron’s family to a ski lodge where Chas is getting married.
The idea: It came to me when I tried shaving my bf. Then all the rest sorta happened. Oh, the ski lodge is a real place I will never get the chance to go back to so I took a revisit here instead. The story probably doesn’t do it justice.

This story is a standalone but is a part of my own AU and can be read as a continuation to this one: http://stulot.tumblr.com/post/109423997481/let-go-robron-ff  

THURSDAY

“This is nice” Robert expressed, looking around the generous holiday home. Coming from someone who’d gotten used to the finer things in life it was a real compliment.

It looked just as idyllic as you’d imagine a ski lodge in the Cairngorms would, only grander. It housed six bedrooms, two which had ensuites, an indoor jacuzzi, an open plan kitchen/living room with an open fireplace in the middle and walls covered in solid wood. The big room had a double height ceiling and on the one side was a big loft situated that included a bedroom and TV room.

“Thanks for the help” Aaron muttered as he put down his and Robert’s bags. Why did he always ended up carrying their stuff?

“Wow” Chas exclaimed as she too came into the room, turning back to Moira who was making her way through the entrance “You need to give me your mum’s number, need to call and thank her for lending us the place”.

“Oh believe me, you don’t wanna do that” Cain said, speaking from experience. He too was carrying two big bags which he dumped to the floor next to Aaron.

“Yeah, better stay clear” James agreed and gave Chas a peck on the cheek. He knew firsthand after his and John’s run in with her that Moira’s mum wasn’t an easy woman to deal with, even if it was just to say thank you.

Moira shook her head in amusement. It was always interesting seeing so many people scared of her mother.

“What did I miss now?” Adam, who was the last one through the front door, looked annoyed at them. He’d been sulking during the whole long car ride because Vic hadn’t gotten the time off and so he was stuck in a house with couples.

“Nothing mate” Aaron replied. “Only, last one in gets the small bedroom” he yelled, grabbed the bags again and ran downstairs looking for where to put their things.

“Well it’s not like I’m gonna need a big one!” Adam yelled after him.

Robert chuckled a bit before descending the stairs himself. This was going to be an interesting weekend.

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sylvia-wolfearchived  asked:

Sylvia sat on the porch with Robert and Brantley in her arms as she watched Vicky play in the pasture with Roman.

He was coming back from around the back side of the barn.  Joseph had built a goat pen a few weeks ago when he spotted a small flock of goats down on the flat lands when he was scanning the area with his binoculars.  The idea of fresh goats milk for the kids came to his mind and he had taken Roman down, managing to herd some up to the promontory.  Now they are in the new pen, not exactly happy, but safe and secure.  He watches Vicky play with Roman a few moments, then heads for the porch, saying, “Everyone getting some fresh air and sunshine?”