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#victoria in a bobble
bobbie-robron · 2 years
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After all that business with the hair yesterday, seems like this child’s got an instinct for trouble.
Two episodes included in this clip, three scenes each. In the first episode, Jack is horrified to see Victoria with pick hair, copying after Walter Todd. He winds up covering her hair with a bobble hat for school 😂. In the pub, Jack airs his woes about Victoria (‘she looks she should be in some sort of girl band’) to Steph who thinks she might have started her ‘teenage rebellion’ early. Steph offers to fix Victoria’s hair. In the second episode, the infamous Walter has given Victoria a mouse, Jasper (a dead one), which she thinks is only sleeping. Robert gets rids of Jasper and tells Victoria he ran off.
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11-Dec-2002 / 12-Dec-2002
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For no other reason than it’s Thursday and the snow is finally melting here (which means Spring Cleaning of the hoard), I’ve got a little bits and bobbles Shiki Giveaway for you all, this time. We have:
-SIX of the 6000th performance in Japan character pins (Grizabella, Victoria, Old Deuteronomy, Sillabub, Coricopat and Mistoffelees)
-A 30th Anniversary Jennyanydots charm
-A Volume 1 Gilbert Secret charm
-A Round Two Volume 1 Jemima Secret Charm
-THREE character trading cards from Osaka (2001 - 2003), including Jennyanydots, Demeter and Bombalurina
RULES (Please read these carefully and follow them):
1. Entries will open today (April 13th) and will close APRIL 20th - in one week. You can enter at any time between now and then, but anything after than date will not be counted.
2. ONE entry per person - when you reblog THIS post, you will be assigned a random number, and the receiver will be picked by a random generator. Likes do not count as entries. You do not need to be following in order to enter. Multiple reblogs will not give you a higher chance - we want to make it fair for everyone. Entry doesn’t guarantee receiving, please play fair!
3. Shipping within North America will be easier for me, but I am willing to open this up to individuals overseas. HOWEVER, if you are picked and you are overseas, I would very much appreciate you going in half on any shipping/postage charges if they are ridiculous (and sometimes they are). Any import fees will most likely settle on the receiver, so please keep that in mind.
4. Obviously, you must be alright with providing me with shipping information - rest assured you will be providing me this information in confidence and I will not share it with anyone. If you are not comfortable sharing this information, that’s completely alright, but please do not enter as I won’t be able to send it to you.
A winner will be selected on April 21st, and will receive a message indicating that they’re getting a present. I will try to get it shipped out to you as soon as I can afterwards, and give an update once that happens.
I will do my absolute best to ensure the items arrive to the winner, but once it’s handed over to the post office, it’s unfortunately out of my hands.
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another-corpo-rat · 1 year
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My own lil bastard kitty got me thinking so I offer my ramblings on Victoria and the horrid little beast that she would give her life for but also bullies on a daily basis.
.
> Victoria was having a terrible week when she found Nibbles – or more accurately when Nibbles found her. Things were just bent out of shape; OIZYS was set back by something in the coding getting messed with by an internal agent, add to that an internal security breach that had everyone in Counter-Intel scrambling to find the source and stop the leak.
She had decided that come the weekend, she was getting drunk and she was getting fucked – not necessarily in that order. A few co-workers joined in that endeavour and while she would’ve opted for Clouds, they dragged her ass to Lizzie’s bar instead. A smaller thing gone wrong, but still frustrating atop of everything else.
An hour in, she was neither drunk nor fucked while her co-workers were deep in BDs. She opted to head outside for a smoke, where she heard the pitching chirrup of an odd creature coming at her in full trot, ratty little tail held high in the air.
The cat sat on her shoe, shivering at the slightest breeze that rolled through and Victoria deigned this hideous little thing clearly in need of help.
> There was a debate on the cat’s name. While she preferred Peaches, she was over-ruled by Smasher in the matter, who was frighteningly adamant that the thing be called Nibbles instead. After a while the cat started responding to Nibbles, and Victoria is still sore over that loss.
> Smasher is, in fact, the Favourite. Victoria finds she can’t be as sore on that fact, as seeing him getting awkwardly pinned by the cat, or used as a climbing frame/heating pad is funny as fuck.
That said, she only likes Smasher when he’s in his Dragoon frame and hides should he visit in a Gemini. She hisses if he comes anywhere near her then.
How Victoria talks to Nibbles: “Aw, my baby. Who’s my pretty little baldie?”
How Smasher talks to Nibbles: “The fuck do you want, you undercooked chicken?”
> Her collar is encrusted with diamonds. It’s likely worth enough to pay for rent in a significant number of places in Night City.
> Now an indoor cat, Nibbles idea of hunting is bringing hairpins and bobbles. She is very proud of her quarry while Victoria was wondering where the fuck they went.
> Vic is adamant that Nibbles has a favourite TV show, and that is Watson Whore. While normally Nibbles would ignore the screen to demand affection and attention, curling into the crook of Victoria’s own curled body on the sofa, when Watson Whore is on the cat sits up and watches the screen for the entirely of the episode – meowing loudly when a particular character comes on.
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yamuraiiha · 4 years
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hey if u need help w/ human names for the coroika cast i have a doc w/ everyone and an assigned name 👀
I have a few names picked out thanks to my human au but I still have a lot I need to decide on so!! 👀!!!
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finelinevogue · 2 years
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Y/n getting hurt during PE class so Harry takes care of her and walks her home (just because he is very worried, of course 🤭😉)
stop🥺🥺🥺🥺 bee you’re killing me🥺🥺
tw// vomiting
It was the last week of school before Christmas, so everyone was excited to be breaking up for the holidays and having 3 weeks off of doing absolutely nothing.
Last week of school was always fun, because the teachers started to give up on teaching and therefore let you do Kahoot’s and other games in class. You, preferred to be doing work since that’s the whole reason that school exists. What was the point of coming into school if you weren’t going to learn anything?
It didn’t get worse than P.E. though.
Especially when it was dodgeball.
It was safe to say that P.E. was not your forte. You would much rather be melting something with a bunsen burner or stuffing your nose inside a History textbook, than you would be forced to take a physical education class. You couldn’t even use asthma as an excuse. You were simply just not cut out to do sports.
Harry on the other hand was brilliant at sports. My God. In those shorts and a tshirt, wow he looked so good. The way his muscles moved and tightened as he ran around. The slight sweat dripping from his brow over the intensity of his game. He just looked—
“Y/N, heads up!”
You were pulled out of your daydream not by the sound of someone’s voice calling, but when the ball made impact with the side of your face. You went straight down to the floor with a splat, groaning as you winded yourself.
“Ow.” You whined, closing your eyes and opening them to adjust to the light. You felt slightly sick and had an incoming and pounding headache. 
You tried to sit up, yet quickly felt nauseous from the small movement. You felt people crowd and one guy in particular, rest his hand on the small of your back to help give your some support. You turned and noticed Harry was knelt next to you, a deep furrow to his eyebrows as he watched you slowly open and close your eyes. Harry’s hand was the one on your back and that thought alone made your stomach flutter, or was it fluttering from genuinely feeling nauseous?
“Y/N how many fingers am I holding up?” Harry asked you, a definitive sense of urgency sounding in his tone.
“Fingers?” You asked.
“Okay, sporty, let’s get you up.” Harry said, calling someone on the other side to pick you up under your armpit, the same as Harry was doing, before explaining to the useless P.E. teacher that you should go get checked out by the school nurse. 
Harry and the other guy lifted you up and got you to your feet, where you stumbled slightly, feeling very nauseous now you were stood up. 
“Harry. I’m going to be sick.” You said quickly.
Harry didn’t wait for your brain to catch up with his response, before scooping you up bridal style and carrying you to the changing rooms. He burst through the door of the girls changing rooms, calling out if anyone was in there before he allowed himself to open his eyes to view the room. It was a lot nicer and cleaner than the boys changing rooms, obviously. Instead of 4-year old socks on the floor, there were Victoria Secret perfume sprays. 
Before you knew it, you were in front of the toilet and emptied your lunch into the bowl. Harry made sure your hair was out of your face, by pulling it back and tying it with a yellow bobble he had on his wrist - because sometimes he liked to tie his hair into a little sprout on his head. Harry’s hand carefully rubbed comforting patterns on your back, kneeling next to you as you hung over the toilet.
“Harry, please go.” You whispered, your voice slightly scratchy.
“No.” He said firmly.
“Harry--.”
“I said no, Y/N.” He repeated. 
“That was disgusting.” You sighed, sitting up and allowing Harry to hand you a tissue to wipe around your mouth. You thanked him, before cleaning the toilet seat and flushing the waste away.
“How is you head?” Harry asked, completely ignoring your statement.
“Feels like an asteroid just hit me.” You laughed under your breathe and then winced as your head throbbed. 
You brought your head up to assess for damage, but Harry stopped you by catching your hand and looking for himself. He carefully moved your hair out of the way and noticed a reddish blob poking out of your head, frowning at how a dodgeball could impact someone this much. 
“Looks like an asteroid hit you too.” Harry said, making you nudge him in his side with your elbow. 
“Oi, that’s mean.”
“Well next time dodge the ball, sporty.” He spoke down to you, his face intimately close to yours. You looked between his lips and his eyes, trying to focus on just one but feeling a little spoilt for choice. His hand was still cupped to your hair and the other still resting on your hand, making your connection very close. 
You could smell his wonderful aftershave and deodorant from here, getting a good inhale of it to think about later. It was a very warm and sexy smell, something that you exactly expected from a guy like Harry. 
“Are y’smelling me?” Harry asked, breaking you from you small trance.
“W-well you just smell... nice.” You fumbled out, not being able to really think about anything other than the fact Harry was so completely close to you. Like, seriously, he was centimetres away from your lips. 
“Nice? Nice?” He repeated, obviously offended with your choice of words.
“What’s wrong with nice?”
“Y/N, nice is the word you use when you don’t really want to compliment someone, or something, but you have to. If the word ‘nice’ was served at a Christmas dinner, it would be the brussel sprouts. If the word ‘nice’ was drink, it would be water.” 
“I like water.” You interrupted him, understanding that he was comparing the word ‘nice’ with all things seen boring or disgusting.
“Of course y’do.” He laughed. 
“Well, then, you smell good.” You adjusted your wording slightly.
“I mean, good is better than nice.” Harry spoke, but more to himself than to you. “Thanks.”
“And thank you for helping me. There’s a reason i’ve never made it into a sports team before.” You told him, Harry nodded his head as if he obviously agreed with your statement. You both laughed at the thought.
Sitting there on the floor of the girls changing rooms toilets, you couldn’t help but think of how much you liked Harry’s laugh and how much you liked being the one to make him laugh.
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royal-confessions · 3 years
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"I keep hearing idiots shitting on how Cambridges “cosplay” their kids by wearing vintage-inspired clothes or even recycling old clothes worn by the family. Meanwhile, Sussexes made Archie wear the bobble hat that’s a copy of baby Harry’s hat, the Swedes are constantly praised for having Estelle recycled Victoria and aunt Madeleine’s old clothes. What gives? Apparently, everything W&K do is evil but other royals are praised for doing the same things. I bet my money if the Cambridge kids wear something new, they’ll be condemned for wearing “new clothes” because they’re wasting “taxPAyerRS MonEY!”” - Submitted by Anonymous
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The Duchess of Cambridge’s Stats - First Quarter
In the first three months of 2021, the Duchess of Cambridge has completed 32 engagements, averaging around 12.3 a month, roughly 2 per month less than last year. Her busiest month was February, during which she completed 13 engagements. She undertook 8 engagements in January and appeared in two official videos or photos released for other reasons, while in March she completed 11 engagements, appeared in three official videos or photos, and was sighted three times. This has been her 3rd busiest January, 2nd busiest February, and 4th busiest March, ever.
Of her 22 patronages, she has visited or completed work for 8, totalling 24 engagements in total. In January, Catherine completed seven engagements on behalf of her patronages. 5 of those were for the Royal Foundation of the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge, while one was for both Nursing Now 2020 and the Royal Photographic Society. In February, she undertook four engagements for the Royal Foundation, as well as two engagements for Place2Be, and an engagement apiece for the Foundling Museum, the Natural History Museum, and the Victoria and Albert Museum. In March, she completed six engagements on behalf of the Royal Foundation, one engagement for Nursing Now 2020, and one for the Anna Freud National Centre for Children and Families.
Of her 32 engagements, 22 have been solo and 10 accompanied by her husband, the Duke of Cambridge. Due to Covid-19 restrictions, no engagements have taken place with any other royals.
All of her engagements have taken part in England (32). Of those engagements, 29 took place virtually, including every engagement in January and February, with three of her March engagements occuring in person, in London.
The majority of her engagements have been focused on her Early Years Initiative - with nine engagements focusing on that initiative specifically. 4 of her engagements have focused on mental health in general, while 3 have been focused on children. 4 of her engagements have been themed around culture in theme, while 7 have been specifically linked to the Covid-19 pandemic. She has also undertaken engagements around the themes of sport, the arts, and the commonwealth. Several of her engagements did not fit into the theme headings I have created.
Clotheswise, her most worn designers have been Zara and Emilia Wickstead, followed by Smythe, Alexander McQueen, Massimo Dutti, Holland Cooper, Boden, and Unidentifed Fashion Objects. Her most carried bag designer was Metier, followed by Jaeger although she has only carried three bags in total. She was also photographed carrying a Fujifilm camera. Her most-worn shoe designer is believed to be Jimmy Choo, closely followed by Emmy London, although her suspected Jimmy Choo’s may actually be Gianvito Rossi. Again, she has only worn 3 pairs of shoes. Her most worn jewellery designer was Daniella Draper, with 5 wears, followed by Orelia London with 4, and Simona Rocha and Astley Clarke with 3 each. When it comes to hats, Catherine was seen once in a bobble hat by Popski London.
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onceuponadream-rpg · 2 years
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Personajes Disponibles
¡Lo prometido es deuda! A continuación les dejamos la lista de personajes disponibles así como algunas aclaraciones. Las reservas se abrirán el día 10 de enero, el horario está por definirse.
Algunos personajes cuentan con edad sugerida para evitar grandes diferencias entre aquellos que son pareja, mientras que el resto pueden tomarlo de referencia para elegir una edad acorde. Les pedimos que los personajes que son obviamente mayores no sufran un gran rejuvenecimiento y que aquellos que sean poc se respete este aspecto como se pedirá en las reglas:
Las etnias/razas pueden cambiarse excepto en el caso de personajes poc, estos últimos deberán respetarse aunque con cierta flexibilidad, por ejemplo: si bien se recomienda utilizar una actriz china para Mulán, se admitirán actrices con esta ascendencia, así como japonesa, coreana o tailandesa, por mencionar algunas. En el caso de personajes como Tiana o Naveen, el pb deberá ser afroamericano o con ascendencia similar.
Los que son acompañados por un asterisco (*) en sus nombres no tienen una edad sugerida debido a que son niños-adolescentes, sin embargo, en caso de que los usuarios no se sientan cómodos llevando menores, serán los únicos que tengan permitido cambiar aspectos de su historia sin tener que encontrarse presentes otros personajes (esto se explicará mejor en el FAQ que se publicará más adelante).
101 dálmatas
Cruella DeVil
Horace
Jasper
Aladdin  
Aladdin BLOQUEADO
Jasmin BLOQUEADO
Jafar BLOQUEADO
Abú
Genio
Iago
Sultán
Alfombra Mágica
Alicia en el país de las maravillas
Alicia
Sombrerero Loco
Gato de Cheshire 
Conejo Blanco
Reina Roja
Reina Blanca
Anastasia   
Anastasia (20-29 años)
Dimitri (20 - 29 años)
Vladimir
Emperatriz Marie
Rasputín
Bartok
Atlantis
Milo Thatch (25 - 32 años)
Kida (25 - 32 años)
Bella Durmiente  
Aurora (20 - 29 años)
Phillip (20 - 29 años)
Flora
Fauna
Primavera
Maléfica
Diaval
Bella y Bestia
Belle (25 - 35 años)
Príncipe Adam (25 - 35 años)
Gastón
Lefou
Lumiere
Sra. Potts
Chip
Din Don
Maurice
Babette
Blancanieves
Blancanieves (19 - 27 años)
Príncipe Florian (20 - 27 años)
Reina Grimhilde
Espejo Mágico
Cazador
Doc
Feliz
Gruñón
Estornudo
Dormilón
Tímido
Tontín
Brave
Mérida (17 - 24 años)
Rey Fergus
Reina Elinor
Bruja
Mor’Du
Harris
Hubert
Hamish
Caperucita Roja
Caperucita
Lobo Feroz 
Leñador/Cazador
Cenicienta
Cenicienta (19 - 27 años)
Príncipe Encantador (20 - 27 años)
Hada Madrina
Lady Tremaine
Anastasia Tremaine  (19 - 27 años)
Drizella Tremaine  (19 - 27 años)
Gus
Jaq
Gran Duque
Cómo entrenar a tu dragón
Hipo (18 - 25 años)
Astrid (18 - 25 años)
Desdentado
Furia Luminosa
Tormenta
El Emperador y sus locuras
Kuzco (18 - 25 años)
Pacha (30 - 40 años)
Kronk
Yzma
Chicha (28 - 40 años)
El libro de la selva
Mowgli*
Baloo
Bagheera
Shere Khan
Kaa
Rey Louie
El Rey León
Simba (20 - 30 años)
Nala (20 - 30 años)
Timón
Pumba
Scar
Zazou
Frozen
Elsa (25 - 28 años)
Anna (20 - 24 años)
Kristoff (20 - 25 años)
Príncipe Hans
Olaf
Hércules
Hércules (25 - 35 años)
Megara (25 - 35 años)
Hades
Phil
Pegaso
Pena
Pánico
Pixie Hollow (Se sugiere un rango de edad de entre 20-28 años para los personajes)
Vidia
Silvermist
Iridessa
Fawn
Rosetta
Terrence
Bobble
Clank
Jorobado de Notre Dame
Quasimodo (20 - 30 años)
Esmeralda (22 - 32 años)
Frollo
Febo
La espada en la piedra
Arturo*
Merlín
Madame Mim
La novia cadáver
Victor (20 - 30 años)
Emily (20 - 30 años)
Victoria (20 - 30 años)
La Princesa y el Sapo
Tiana (20 - 30 años)
Naveen (20 - 30 años)
Dr. Facilier
Charlotte
Mamá Odie
Ray
Louis
La Sirenita
Ariel (22 - 35 años)
Príncipe Eric (22 - 35 años)
Úrsula
Rey Tritón
Sebastian
Flounder
Flotsam
Jetsam
Moana
Moana (16 - 22 años)
Maui
Tamatoa
Mulán
Mulán (18 - 27 años)
Li Shang (20 - 27 años)
Mushu
Shan Yu
Yao
Ling 
Chien Po
Pesadilla antes de navidad
Jack Skellington
Oogie Boogie
Sally
Peter Pan
Peter*
Tinkerbell
Capitán Hook
Wendy Darling*
John Darling
Michael Darling
Smee
Pinocho
Pinocho*
Geppetto
Hada Azul
Pocahontas
Pocahontas (18 - 27 años)
John Smith (25 - 35 años)
Ratcliffe
Kocoum
Rapunzel 
Rapunzel (18 - 25 años)
Flynn Rider (20 - 27 años)
Madre Gothel
Robin Hood   
Robin Hood (25 - 35 años)
Lady Marian (21 - 30 años)
Little John
Sheriff de Nottingham
Príncipe John/Juan
Simbad
Simbad (20 - 27 años)
Marina (19 - 27 años)
Eris
Proteo
Tarzán
Tarzán (25  - 35 años)
Jane (25 - 35 años)
Clayton
Profesor Archimedes
La princesa cisne
Odette (20 - 27 años)
Derek (22 - 30 años)
Rothbart
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babygirlgalitzine · 3 years
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hearts will be glowing (ao3)
for @heaintscum , ‘tis i, your secret santa for @ballumsecretsanta! i hope you really enjoy this fic and i hope you have a wonderful festive period too🎅🎄
So it goes like this: Ben hates Callum, and equally, Callum hates Ben. But as the age old proverb goes, there’s a fine line between love and hate.
It’s the build up to Christmas, and like seemingly everywhere else in the world, The Queen Vic is full of decorations, the collection of them somehow growing right throughout the month of December. It’s borderline garish as well, subtlety not a word in the landlord and lady’s vocabulary. A large pine tree sits in the corner of the pub, towering above everyone and it’s practically overbearing the whole room. To call it a tree is slightly insulting though, because it’s more red tinsel and flickering lights of technicolour than the actual tree itself. Baubles perch on the ends of some branches, bold and brash and spinning around and around in slow circles. Some have fallen off, resting on the floor alongside the fallen pine needles and broken off shards of sparkly tinsel. The bust of Queen Victoria sits on the bar, pride of place as usual - except now she’s got a red and white Christmas hat on, with the bobbling pom pom of it hitting against her face. Above the bar, a common tradition of pub Christmases of the past. Mistletoe hangs down, directly above the bar, right where the staff meet the public. Every year, they remain there, practically forgotten throughout the month of December, until it’s finally time to take them down again come the turn of the new year.
Ben walks in with his usual scowl on his face. The collar of his coat pops up, covering his neck from the blustering wind outside, though it’s probably more of a fashion statement than it is protection. The door to the pub slams to a shut behind him, the baubles on the tree spinning around quicker now in the artificial breeze it creates. A few people turn to look at him, the pub somewhat busy for this time of day, but absolutely nothing comes of it. He steps towards the bar, somehow finding a small gap in amongst the crowd of people that swarm it, waiting for a drink. He leans his body weight against the woodwork and looks down to see which of the bar staff are free.
Callum’s standing there like a spare part after putting cash in the till and Ben would be lying if he said the smirk that appears across his lips wasn’t at the sigh of the Callum standing there in his tight jeans and red Christmas jumper.
There’s a nod of a head towards Ben, and Callum notices it and sighs, knowing that he has to go and take his order. 
They avoid each other most of the time, aware of each other’s existence but blissfully ignoring it all the same. For some unknown reason, they just really dislike one another. Nobody really knows why, and to be perfectly honest neither Ben nor Callum seems to know why the other one hates them so much. Really, they’ve barely even spoken one or two words to each other, much less have a conversation.
Before Callum’s even managed to breathe a word out, Ben interrupts him, his fingers interlocking with one another as he rests his hands together on the bar in front of him. “Lager.” Ben says. Just that. No please, nor a thank you.
Callum shuts his eyes for just a second, metaphorically biting his tongue to refrain from making a snarky comment - though he’s not certain a clamp on his tongue could stop him from doing such a thing. It’s one drink, whilst the bar is busy. That’s all he needs to do. When he opens his eyes again, it’s like a whole new moment and he has a facade about him...that is, until he looks at Ben and finds him grinning at him, his eyes all dark and for some reason, it makes Callum’s nervous. He shakes it off, counting down the hours in his head until his shift is over, silently praying that Ben doesn’t stay here for the rest of his shift. “That’ll be three pound fifty.” He says, voice void of any emotion. Ben hands it over to him, a silent exchange between the two of them.
It’s when Ben turns and walks away, pint in his hand, that Callum speaks again. “You’re very welcome!” He shouts sarcastically, not caring one bit if people turn to look at them, watching their interaction. 
Ben turns back to face Callum, the natural scowl is starting to form on his face, furrowing his eyebrows as his eyes glare darkly at Callum. The pint glass in his hand is beginning to slip, the condensation of it leaking onto his hand, threatening to slide out of his grasp and onto the floor. Instead of starting an argument, he simply ignores Callum and sits down on his own. It’s not unusual for him to sit alone though. It’s not as if Ben’s a loner, because he’s certainly not. He’s actually quite popular, though his popularity mainly lies with his family, the ever expanding family tree seemingly taking over the majority of Walford. Despite that though, he’s often found sitting alone in the Queen Vic, keeping himself to himself.
The pub remains busy, possibly gaining more and more customers as time ticks by and people finish work. It gets to the point where people are standing up through different rounds, completely unable to get seats at any tables. Christmas music blares over the speakers, the same songs and rotation, and as more drinks are flowing, the louder people start to get.
Callum’s walking around the outside of the bar now, collecting all of the empty glasses and bottles, delicately throwing them into the box. He doesn’t particularly care if they get smashed or not, because Ben’s eyes have been on him all night now and he’s getting more and more fed up the longer his shift goes on. He’s collecting glasses in twos and sometimes even three at a time and he’s genuinely fearful that they’ll run out of clean glasses by the time for last orders rolls around. Some people move out of his way as he walks past them, though he still has to manoeuvre his way around most of the time. Either way, everyone makes way for him eventually, when they see the overflowing box in his left hand and his right still picking up glasses. Everyone, that is, except Ben, who’s walking towards the toilets. Ben, who deliberately goes out of his way to move closer and closer to Callum, just to get their shoulders to barge into one another. Callum completely ignores him though, thinking better of starting something that would probably end up in a brawl, knowing the rumours of Ben. Only two hours left of his shift. 
Ben eventually makes it back to his table, almost alone in his thoughts and that’s when Callum realises, if he was at all empathetic towards Ben Mitchell, he would think he looks almost sad, behind the stereotypical Mitchell mask he puts on. People are surrounding him now, maybe. His family, his friends. Yet he seems distant, like he’s not really following any of the conversations that surround him. He stands, holding his empty pint glass in his hands, streaks from the drink staining the inside of the glass. He puts it down on the bar, directly in front of Callum. “Same again.” He inquires, looking straight at Callum, and then back to the glass. Callum takes it, and refills it, passing it over to Ben without so much as a word.
Callum holds his hand out, waiting for the change to hit his hand. Ben takes the pint glass though, and lifts it to his mouth without paying. He raises his eyebrows, watching as Callum’s annoyance grows, bubbling away underneath the surface. He knows he’s got him then, hook, line and sinker. Ben pulls the glass away from his mouth, his face contorting and twisting in disgust. “That’s flat!” He exclaims, wiping at his mouth, though he’s really just trying to hide the smirk that’s threatening to form on his lips. 
People look around at them, intrigued by the continuous back and forth between them all night, some customers still around from their first initial exchange. Callum rolls his eyes, shrugging his shoulders as he steps forward, leaning against his side of the bar with a knowing smirk. He grabs the glass from Ben’s hand and lifts it to his mouth, taking a gulp himself. “Tastes fine to me mate.” He responds, narrowing his eyes to Ben, practically glaring at him.
Low chuckles erupt from the people around them, turning away to fall easily back into their own conversations. That infuriates Ben though, because he definitely does not like people laughing at him. Anger seeps through his body and the only thing he can think to do to get it all out is to lean over the bar and grab at Callum’s shirt, pulling them closer together. There’s a snarl on his face and he can hear the entire pub explode in jeers and cheers at the prospect of a fight. “If I say it’s flat.” Ben says venomously. “It’s flat.
He just about manages to get his words out, when shrill, loud whistles burst out from all different directions and suddenly neither of them really know what’s going on, except for the fact that the whole pub now seems to be staring at them. There’s a moment where there’s a silence of anticipation and trepidation and then an unrecognisable voice comes from the other side of the room, a loud “Go on then, kiss!” booms over them and suddenly everything just makes sense.
Ben looks up and sees the mistletoe hanging directly above them, and when he looks down at Callum again, his hold on Callum’s shirt loosens just a little bit, though it still remains as a bundle in his fist. He looks at Callum, and the tension between them is palpable. A grin grows on Callum’s face, knowing in his heart of hearts that there’s no chance of Ben even thinking about going there. 
Except. He does.
And it knocks Callum for six. 
Ben kisses Callum as if his life depends on it, all heat and passion and it’s fueled by hatred and annoyance and for some unknown reason - it’s the best kiss of Callum’s life. The scent of Ben’s aftershave is intoxicating and the touch of Ben’s lips against Callum’s is everything and more. Callum falls back, his feet firmly rooted to the ground in shock and he’s got a tingly sensation in his stomach, one that matches the tingling numbness of his lips. His eyes are still shut, trying to control his thoughts, and when he eventually manages to open them again, Ben’s nowhere to be seen. His cheeks are bright red and most people have reignited their own conversations, completely ignoring what’s just happened. It’s weird. Life goes on for everyone else, yet Callum just keeps replaying the kiss around and around in his mind, the feel of Ben’s lips still so prominent on his own.
He’s still thinking about it an hour or so later when he’s walking home, the street lamps lighting up his way, frost building in the darkness. Swirls of his breath are visible in front of him and his hands are numb from the cold. Snowflakes fall around him, creating a white sheet on the floor that his feet break up, creating an aimless pattern in the settling snow. He doesn’t think about his steps, just letting his feet guide his way, because his head is just full of Ben. Callum can’t stop thinking about Ben, Ben and his silly little smirk, Ben and his deep blue eyes that somehow changes from light to dark like the flick of a switch, Ben and how he kisses so perfectly, so mind blowingly.
He notices something when he gets closer to home though, someone sitting on Callum’s doorstep, face hidden in the darkness. It scares him for a moment, a chill falling down his spine, until he cautiously gets closer and realises who it actually is.
“Ben?” He calls out carefully, trying not to disturb him. 
Callum steps towards his house, standing barely metres away from Ben now. Ben looks up, and there’s a shy smile on his face, one that Callum’s certain he’s never seen before. He stands up, softly groaning at the crack of his knees and then steps to the side, allowing Callum to move closer to the door to unlock it. There’s a momentary pause when the lock on the door clicks open, Callum opening the door just the tiniest bit. It’s almost enough to make Ben walk away without another word spoken, but then Callum breaks the silence. “Coming in?” He asks quietly. 
Ben nods softly and steps inside after Callum.
“It’s freezing out there.” Callum says, taking his coat off and putting it on the coat stand in his hallway. “Do you want a hot chocolate? Or a tea? I think I’ve got some teabags somewhere.” 
“Why are you being so nice to me?” Ben inquires, hooking his hands into his pockets as a way of trying to combat the awkwardness he’s feeling inside.
Callum chuckles and flicks the kettle on, even without an answer from Ben because he wants a hot chocolate himself. “Because I don’t hate you. I never have done. You just like to make my life completely difficult, but I’ve learnt to deal with that.” He explains, and for some reason, it feels nice to finally get this out in the open. They’re finally having a conversation, after so long of ignoring each other, after so long of never communicating. “Why are you here Ben? I thought it was you that hated me?” 
There’s silence between them for a moment as Ben sighs and takes in Callum’s words, playing them over and over in his mind as he tries to think of what to say. How can he admit he doesn’t hate Callum, but in fact he feels the complete opposite? In the end, he just decides to shrug by way of trying to explain. “Don’t know.” He says. “There’s just something about you, that makes me want to get to know you more. I don’t hate you Callum.”
Ben looks all shy when he finishes speaking. He doesn’t know where to stand or where to put his hands. Callum smiles, understanding Ben’s words to him, because he feels that exact way too. He feels the pull towards Ben, like a magnetic force is bringing them together. Callum walks forward, slowly, and Ben moves too, in time with Callum. His back reaches the wall, and suddenly there’s nowhere else to move. Callum’s cornering him, and Ben’s not at all mad about it. Callum towers above him, and Ben can’t help but watch him with intrigue and lust, all thoughts of trying to breathe normally long forgotten. There’s a blush on his cheeks, a redness that’s creeping up to the tips of his ears, gradually getting more and more flame like until his ears are bright red. Ben notices the freckles that litter his cheeks, right across the bridge of his nose, and his eyes - God, his eyes - they’ve got flecks of green mixing in so swimmingly with the blue, all bright and perfect and his long and fluttery eyelashes just add to it. 
Callum grins, and hooks his index finger under Ben’s chin, lifting his head up so that they’re both perfectly aligned together. He leans down and kisses him, soft and gentle and it really is perfect. Ben’s hands fly out of his pockets, letting his fingers grab at Callum’s waist, holding their bodies together, warmth against warmth. They kiss for longer this time, comfortable without the eyes of a million strangers watching them. Ben’s lips tingle at the pressure, but that leaves him begging for more. He pulls away for just a second, though they don’t entirely part, with their top lips still touching and their breaths hitting against one another. “Maybe it’ll be a good Christmas after all.” Ben comments, twirling Callum’s shirt around his fingers, finally touching Callum’s skin.
“Shut up.” Callum says, but there’s no heat to it at all, just complete and utter joy, and they soon go back to kissing.
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softlass27 · 3 years
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i was inspired after coming home from a nice walk in the snow this morning, so here’s a little robron teen au 🌨️
ao3 link here
On Saturday morning, Robert woke up to the sound of his doorbell ringing loudly through his house.
He cracked an eye open and squinted at the clock on his bedside table – still early. When the doorbell rang once more, he rubbed at his sleep-filled eyes, before sitting up and looking out the window to see heavy snow flying down from the sky.
The Dales were still in the middle of this blizzard, then.
He stared at the brilliantly white fields for a moment, before groaning when the doorbell rang yet again. Whoever had come to visit wasn’t giving up. He  groggily stood, hissing as his bare feet touched the cold floor, and trudged down the stairs in threadbare pyjama bottoms and a black hoodie that definitely belonged to him, no matter what a certain Dingle might tell you.
Bracing himself for the freezing air, he opened the door to find his boyfriend stood on the doorstep, dressed in his usual puffy jacket and bobble hat (cute), and bouncing on the spot in an effort to keep warm. He glared at Robert, before pointedly prodding the doorbell once more with his eyebrow raised.
“Heard you the first time, mate,” Robert said with a shiver.
“I’ve been ringing the bell for like two minutes, you tosser,” Aaron snapped, barging his way into the warmth.
“I was asleep!”
Robert slammed the door shut and followed Aaron through to the kitchen.  For once, the house was blissfully free of his family; Jack and Andy away at some farming machinery show (thrilling) and Diane having taken Victoria to York for a “girls weekend”, whatever that meant.
“Did you walk here?” Robert incredulously watched Aaron toe off his snow-caked trainers and toss his wet hat onto the kitchen table. His nose was an alarmingly bright shade of pink.
“Nah,” Aaron shook his damp hair like a dog and peeled off his coat. “Adam let me use the quad bike.”
That… didn’t make Robert feel much better.
“You idiot, if you’d just texted me I could’ve driven into the village and met you there.”
“Yeah, but I knew you had the place to yourself today. Wanted to come and hang out, didn’t I?” He poked Robert in the side.
“Missed me that much, eh?” Robert shoved him away, even as his heart swelled over Aaron’s casual declaration.
Aaron grinned and hoisted himself up on the counter.
“Piss off. Kind of gutted I missed Andy, if I’m honest, you know how much I love hearin’ about crop rotation and pig breeding.”
Robert shook his head, before flicking on the radio and rummaging through the kitchen cupboards. “Yeah, well Andy wouldn’t be nice enough to make something to warm you up, would he?”
He began taking out ingredients to make hot chocolate, wincing every time Aaron’s swinging feet banged loudly against the counter.
“Do that one more time, and you won’t be getting any marshmallows,” he warned without turning around.
Robert grinned when the banging stopped instantly and he got on with the task in hand. Aaron watched quietly as he poured everything out; the tinny sound of Jack’s old radio providing a familiar background noise.
As Robert added some extra chocolate chips to the pan (because you could never have enough), he felt a weight pressing against his back and arms snaking around his waist.
Instead of tensing or pulling away – as he normally would when they were in the farmhouse – Robert leaned back into the broad chest. There was no one here to see, to throw a snide comment or uncomfortable look their way, so why shouldn’t he? They stayed like that for a moment, Robert stirring the hot chocolate as Aaron held him, gently swaying them from side to side.
Eventually, Aaron broke the silence.
“This is my hoodie,” he whispered, plucking at the material.
“Think you’ll find that it’s my hoodie.”
“No, you stole it.”
“Lies.”
Aaron huffed and shoved his freezing nose against Robert’s neck, making him yelp and squirm against him. But the light kiss there that quickly followed made up for it.
Aaron sighed and leaned up on his toes, hooking his chin over Robert’s shoulder and giving his waist a squeeze.
“Mornin’ Rob.”
And god, Robert loved this. He loved the feeling of Aaron against him, of Aaron’s arms enveloping him. Loved the way Aaron held him as though he was the bigger of the two, making Robert feel warmer than any hot drink could.
He just loved Aaron, really.
“Good morning.”
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mxrymacs · 3 years
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Halloween Carnival
The Ministry is putting on a Halloween Carnival fundraiser to help raise funds for the reconstruction of St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies.  After the tragic events of early September the Ministry has committed to spearheading a push toward unity among all magical kind.  May this start to the holiday season remind us that are similarities far outnumber our differences -- may this be the moment that begins to being us all together.  Come enjoy activities like bobbling for apples, an enchanted corn maze, a costume contest with prizes, fall treats, a special performance by Juniper Blooniper. and more!
Where:  The Ministry Atrium When:  Halloween.  3 pm to 8 pm, Family Friendly Fun.  8 pm to 1 am, Wizards of Age Only. Who:  All Wizards Why:  To raise money to rebuild St. Mungo’s
---
1. Discord Threads should run between October 17 and November 1.  If at all possible they should be finished before October is done.  Dash threads should be aimed to be finished in about a month ( November 20ish ) so we can let the inferi have their moment around thanksgiving *devil emoji*.
2. Events that we discussed that would be included are... Bobbing for Apples, a corn maze, A haunted “area”, fall favorites, any carnival game your heart desires, Cami will have a face painting station, potato sack races, Pin the spider on the web, Juniper Blooniper performs, magical photo booth, and a costume contest.
3. Mostly this should be a peaceful event, but Cami and Priya will vandalize the bathrooms about halfway through the night, Victoria and Freya will put Paulie under the Imperius Curse, and the Order will successfully get the prophecy out of the Ministry.  Feel free to cause other minor shit, but nothing that will draw too much attention to the Order because we want this to be a win for them.
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My Responsibility (c.h.)
an: so after a gentle push to write again, I went through my incomplete works and finished one off. I like it a lot. Also, don’t flame me for improper “bodyguard procedure” or whatever
 BODY GUARD!CAL AU
People always said life was the hardest thing anyone could ever do, and while Teddie supposed it was quite true, life was a hell of a lot easier when you were royalty. After a day filled with shopping, spa treatments, and mani-pedis, she was actually pretty tired when she arrived back at the palace. So, when her father’s adviser told her that her father would like to see her in his office, she sighed deeply and dumped her bags into the nearest worker’s arms. Her day was about to get a lot less relaxing. She had known this would be coming when she slipped out of the house in her Audi this morning but had done it nonetheless. That didn’t stop her from dragging her feet all the way to the office, though. Her father had his back to Teddie as she stepped into the room, but she knew the look on his face would be disappointed.  She was proved right as the King turned around, buttoning his suit up.
“Darling.” Teddie’s father sighed, easing himself down into his high backed leather chair. He shuffled some papers around on his desk for a minute before speaking again. “You’ve turned into quite the headache.”
“Whatever do you mean, father?” Teddie played dumb, knowing full and well what he meant. But when bodyguards were as dumb as hers, it was almost too easy. And way too fun.
“Theodora Arabella, my love, we both know exactly what I am speaking of.” Teddie flopped into a chair, exhaling loudly. She hated her name, but her father, ever the king, couldn’t even remove the stick from his ass for two seconds. Ridiculous.
“I’m sorry father. But you know how I feel about this subject. Is it really necessary to have a fifteen personal security detail?” Theodora massaged her temples, also getting a headache. At this point, it wasn’t even worth it to her to leave the palace.
“I understand, darling. Which is why I’ve talked it over with Mr. Clyde, and we’ve agreed to narrow the fifteen down to four.” The King watched his daughter’s face positively light up. As his daughter and the sole heiress to the kingdom, he was nervous with the decision. But Clyde had assured him that these four men were the best of the best.
“Now then. Should you try to escape from under their watch, even once, it will go back to the fifteen person detail. Are we clear?” The King took his glasses off and gave his daughter a meaningful stare. He loved his daughter more than his kingdom, which was saying quite a bit for the king. Still, there was much to take into consideration with this decision. The kingdom was on the edge of war, and while it did have some powerful allies, a royal assassination would be costly to the kingdom.
“Crystal, Father.” Teddie was already bouncing up and down on her heels, a bundle of energy ready to explode. This was more than she could have ever hoped for, more than she had ever dreamt of. Teddie figured she would never even get down to ten bodyguards, much less four. She quickly ran around the large oak desk and threw her arms around her father before he could react. Maybe Teddie wasn’t the huggy-huggy type of person, but she felt an exception was due just this once.
Teddie turned and hurried out of her father’s office, her head down and phone already in her hands. She could not wait to call Victoria and tell her all about this. She was sure that Victoria would combust, much like Teddie felt she had. Teddie took two steps down the hallway and immediately ran into something. It was broad and hard and… warm? Teddie didn’t care at the moment, instead scrambling to get her phone, which she had dropped when she had hit the ground.
“Fucking HELL!” Teddie was seething, utterly pissed off. Her phone had cracked. Her brand new phone was cracked. She looked up ready to destroy whatever she had run into, ready to tear it to shreds with her bare hands. Instead, she found herself looking into a pair of eyes so dark they seemed to be looking at her soul.
“Princess Theodora. My apologies.” The man grabbed her arm to steady her, but Teddie ripped it away from him. Who the hell did this idiot think he was?
“Your apologies are damn right. What department do you work for? Tell me who was dumb enough to hire such a clumsy oaf.” Teddie was a good half a foot shorter than the man, but that wasn't near enough to intimidate her. Neither was his jawline so sharp that it could cut her, nor his rich dark curls that were a little too long in the most endearing way possible. Nope, not intimidating.
“Security. Allow me to introduce myself.” The man seemed to be trying to hide the smirk that was growing on his plump lips. Teddie’s eye started twitching with realization. She groaned internally, praying she was wrong. “Calum Hood. The new head of your security detail.”
Teddie said nothing. Instead, she brushed past Hood and hurried as quickly as she could in her stilettos to her chambers. Once there, she slammed the door shut. Buried her face in a pillow. And screamed.
Teddie awoke the next morning to a fantastic headache and a horrible recollection of yesterday’s event. All Teddie really wanted to do was go die in a hole somewhere. However, she had made plans to go to lunch with Victoria and her father was constantly spouting some shit about ‘a princess was nothing if not punctual,’ so she dragged herself from her den of cashmere blankets and down pillows and started to prepare herself to face the day. And Calum Hood. She honestly couldn’t say which she dreaded more.
___
“I’m telling you, it was awful!” Teddie was talking animatedly with her hand, clearly distressed. She hadn’t fully recovered from her little incident yesterday, and she wasn’t sure she ever was going to be able to. All she really wanted to do was get out on the water and go surfing for a little bit. It had been a while since she had been on her board, but at this point, the longer she went without rushing into the breaking waves, the more strain she put on her mental health. Surfing had always been a way for her to relax and unwind, which was greatly needed due to the stress of being a princess. September was starting to creep up on her, and while her country was generally pretty warm year round, the ocean could be cold and unforgiving. Teddie was planning to spend as much time as possible in the ocean while she still could.
“No, yeah I get it.” Teddie watched as Victoria took a patronizing sip of her coffee. “But, also I don’t.”
Teddie just sighed and looked back out the window. Okay, maybe she was exaggerating how dire the situation was, but only by a little. It was already bad enough that she had run into him and then proceeded to act like an unchecked bitch princess, but did Calum really have to go and be that hot?
“Anywho, have you decided what you’re wearing to your ball in a few weeks?” Teddie wiggled her eyebrows at Victoria. Victoria was turning twenty-one in a few weeks, so of course she was going all out on a ball for herself. Teddie was excited for her best friend, having known her since they were both children, immune to the atrocities this world offered. Teddie wasn’t ever one to dwell on the past, but recently she had found herself thinking about those times more and more often. She and Victoria were easily entertained as children, often playing dress-up with their mothers’ pearls or hide and go seek in their favorite sections of the castle. Teddie never realized it until she was older, but she smiled at all the parallels her childhood ran compared to that of a normal childhood. Maybe they couldn’t ever return to the simplicity that their childhood was made up of, but Teddie was still grateful to be able to grow up next to such a genuine person next to a world of people merely trying to befriend her for their own self gain.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Victoria bobbled her head at Teddie and made a smart-ass face. Teddie cocked an eyebrow and gave Victoria a look that said it all. “If you keep making that face, you’ll get wrinkles.”
Teddie gasped daintily, throwing them both into a round of giggles. Neither Teddie nor Victoria had ever cared about all the princess bullshit like smile lines and matching their earrings to their shoes, but they both had a good time laughing about all the false stereotypes. “You know, it’s going to be pretty embarrassing when the belle of the ball shows up matching her best friend.”
This time, it was Victoria’s turn to gasp. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Oh, but I would.” Teddie skipped ahead on the sidewalk where they were strolling and turned back to face Victoria tauntingly. Victoria tipped her head back and let out a laugh, pleasing Teddie. “Hey, I’m going surfing later. Care to join?”
“Can’t. My dad is dragging me to some meeting or charity event or something. I can never keep track of all that shit.”
Teddie grunted in agreeance, forgoing words. Victoria's comment, although offhanded and a complaint, had sent Teddie down a rabbit hole of thought. In a few short years, her father was planning to retire, which in turn would place the crown and the future of the kingdom in her own hands. Sure, she would have advisors and dukes and generals to guide her, but she was still in charge. She would be making all of those decisions herself. Teddie could hear Victoria chattering on in the background, but Teddie was only half listening. Soon enough Teddie herself would be leading the meetings and charity events they had always despised. The thought alone was enough to make Teddie run away and never come back. She was sipping her coffee thoughtfully when she felt a rough hand set fire to the nerves on her back. She already knew who it was even without turning.
“We probably need to be heading out, your highness.”  Calum’s breath was warm as he leaned down to whisper in her ear, gently brushing the few blonde strands of her hair out of the way. Then he stopped walking, so Teddie led Victoria just out of earshot to say her goodbyes. It took them only moments, seeing as they had more plans to hang out over the span of the next few weeks leading up to Victoria’s party. Teddie took a deep breath, taking a moment to steady herself before advancing towards Calum. As soon as she reached him, he fell into step right next to her, a broad hand spanning across her upper back. She shivered slightly under his touch, her body unaware of how to react to his touch, or any man’s touch for that matter. She had gone on a few dates of course, and she was by no means innocent, but Teddie was a bit unexperienced in the romantic aspect of life. Her parents had set her up on a couple dates with ‘potential suitors,’ as they called them, but, in Teddie’s unbiased opinion, they had all been uptight, selfish pricks. AKA, not her type. Teddie was indifferent to all of the dates, letting her parents waste their time with the pointless endeavors. She just told her parents that they just didn’t have a leadership quality or they didn’t have the right mindset to rule, when in fact, the quality they lacked was basic human compassion and respect. Teddie wrapped herself up in her thoughts, letting her eyes glaze over and her expression go blank. She had nothing to say to anybody in the car, and she didn't think that they were particularly interested in starting up a conversion with her, either. Which happened to be why Teddie jumped a little when Calum spoke up in that gruff baritone voice of his.
“Can I help you?” Calum looked utterly unhappy. Teddie wasn’t sure why, seeing as his only job was babysitting a grown woman. After thinking about it for a few seconds, she realized that she had never seen him without his dark eyebrows knit together and the small scowl on his face. She pursed her lips, figuring that maybe it was just his face. Teddie couldn’t blame him for this, seeing as she also fell victim to resting bitch face syndrome.
“What?” Teddie cocked her head at Calum. She lowered her eyebrows in confusion, not exactly up for just having a chat with the man sitting across from her. Yeah, he could help her. Help her by doing his job and staying out of her way.
“You were staring at me.” Calum was blunt. Teddie was somewhat grateful, seeing as he didn’t mince his words or use too many of them, but she was still a little taken aback by them. Even if she had been staring at him, which she denied, she didn’t see why he had to get his panites in a wad about it. A few of her last fifteen bodyguards had been quite the chatterboxes and she had despised the majority of her time with them, preferring the silence to any sort of conversation.
“I was not. I was merely thinking.” Calum looked like he was about to say more, but Teddie just turned and directed her gaze out the window, effectively cutting him off. She wasn’t ready to bare her soul to her bodyguard just yet, nor did she feel like arguing with him, either. Instead she tried to steer her thought towards simpler topics, like what she would wear to Victoria’s gala, and which shoes would match which dress. All she really wanted to do was get into her wet suit and breakout her board. Which is exactly what she did as soon as the car pulled into the driveway at the castle. She was out of the car and up the first couple steps leading up to the large oak double doors before the car had even come to a complete stop. She began stripping before even shutting the door to her room all the way, anxious to work out her stressors of the day by dipping into the water and breaking the waves. The rhythmic lapping of the waves crashing against each other had a subtle calming effect on Teddie, helping her rationalize even the toughest of decisions.
As soon as she splashed into the warm salty water and felt the tickle of seaweed on her skin, Teddie took a moment to inhale deeply, smelling the ocean scent mix with the aroma floating off of the wild jasmine that grew along the shoreline. Things were both much more simple and extraordinarily more complicated than they seemed.  Still she chose to focus on her board technique rather than her actual issues.
While she was by no means a professional, Teddie had gotten rather good at surfing over the years, mainly due to the sheer amount of time she spent relaxing on her board. For the majority of her time spent in the water, Teddie was barely even surfing. She was content for the large portion of her time to just relax on her board, watching the sun dip into the horizon. Teddie was out on the ocean for the rest of the day, but still painfully aware of her bodyguard brigade standing stiff as rails out on the beach. Teddie sighed to herself, extremely uncontent.
Calum Hood.
He was the biggest issue weighing on her mind at the moment, but she was actually quite happy with that resolution. Teddie figured if the biggest problems she was having were over a guy, then she was probably in a pretty good place in life. Still, that didn’t prevent her from staying on the water until the waves lapping against her skin crept closer to freezing and the sun dipped into the horizon. Teddie sighed, knowing she’d have to squeeze any surfing she wanted to accomplish into her already packed schedule over the upcoming weeks. With a little less than a month to her party, Victoria was kind of starting to panic, fretting about every little detail. Teddie was usually one of the only people who was able to reach her friend during those episodes, soothing her and trying to get her to breathe.
Teddie smirked a little as she thought of her somewhat panicky friend. Sure, Victoria was a lot sometimes, but the pair had been through a lot with each other, including going off to college together in the states. Those short four years had been some of the best of her life, and while they had passed a bit too quickly for the girls’ taste, Teddie knew that they would visit the small coastal town in Carolina where they had attended college as often as they could. It was then Teddie knew the perfect present for Victoria’s birthday.
___
“No.” Calum stood leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed and his signature scowl plastered across his face. This was dumb. No, come to think of it, everything was dumb. Cal was seriously considering quitting his job at the palace right here and now.
“I wasn’t asking.” Teddie didn’t bother to look up at Cal from where she was sitting on the plush couch situated against the far wall of her apartment. Bedroom, Cal meant, although they were practically one and the same. Teddie kept typing away on her MacBook, the clicking of the keys soothing in Cal’s ears.
“That may be, your highness, but as the head of your security team, I reserve the right to tell you no. The right to tell you that going on an ice cream run at three-thirty in the morning is too great a risk.” Cal could hear the sarcasm dripping off his words, but he really couldn’t help it. The princess may have been attractive, but she clearly didn’t have much going on up top.
“Look, it’ll take two seconds. In and out.” Teddie shut her laptop matter of factly and stood up. She stretched for a minute, placing her hands all the way above her head and leaning back a little. Calum was careful to look nonchalant as he averted his gaze, acting impervious to the strip of skin she revealed as she stretched. Cal knew he couldn’t cave. He shouldn’t cave. He. Would. Not. Cave.
It was less a minute later that Calum found himself scrambling down the hallways of the castle, chasing the princess. She was giggling as she ran, enjoying the sounds of his footsteps behind her and taunting him as they both ran. She was a hell of a lot faster than he had anticipated, and despite him being the head of her security team, Calum was starting to suspect that she could probably lap him if she wanted. He couldn’t help the smirk that tugged on the corners of his lips, so he rolled them into his mouth. The smile was still evident in the lines around his eyes, though. At one point, Teddie turned around and ran backwards throwing out taunts and breathtaking smiles like candy at one of her parades. Once again, Calum knew he was going down a rabbit hole that he should have avoided, but he couldn’t help thinking that she was really living up to all the Disney princess stereotypes of being beautiful and kind and sweet.
Teddie knew she was dipping her feet into dangerous waters. Running along the hallways with Calum, teasing him, reveling in childish glee. She really hadn’t expected him to cave at all, much less at the speed that he did. He wasn’t the only one with a weak resolve, though. She had scolded herself thoroughly the first time she realized she was interested in him, and now here she was, teasing him as they skipped down the hallways of the castle alone together. Still, she was getting her ice cream, and that was what was important. She turned as she reached the parking area, and jangled the keys in her hand at Calum. Her way of telling him that she would be driving and not slowly, either.
As he watched the princess clamber into the car from the open window, rather than just opening the door, Cal knew he should probably call for an escort. Or even just tell someone where they were going. Yet, as he reached for his phone, he realized that he just plain didn’t want to. Calum wanted to share the moment with Theodora and wanted her to share it with him only. He was no longer ashamed to admit that he was jealous, instead turning the jealousy into a fierce passion to protect the princess.
“Princess Theodora, if I may-” Calum was about to ask her about her plans for the gala coming up, whether she had selected the people who would accompany her or not, when she cut him off. Her words were sharp, much like her driving as she took another reckless corner.
“You can’t. Call me Teddie.” Teddie was straight faced as she spoke, a clear indicator of how serious she was. Teddie had always hated her name, despised it in fact. Although, she did give kudos to her parents. ‘Theodora Arabella’ did have a very regal ring to it.
“Alright, Teddie it is then.” Calum relaxed in his seat a little, tasting the name on his tongue. It was delicate yet intimidating much like Teddie herself. Cal got a little lost in her name in his mouth, failing to realize she hadn’t put on her seatbelt. Teddie just reached over and turned to music up, the bass pounding in Calum’s ears. Cal finally noticed that she wasn’t wearing her seatbelt when Teddie threw both of her hands in the air and jammed out to the music reverberating throughout the car, leaving Cal to reach over and grab the steering wheel to keep them on the road.
“For fuck’s sake woman, put your damn seat belt on.” Cal had never felt more stressed in his entire life. This princess would be the death of him.
___
“I cannot believe this.” Ashton ran his hand through his hair, making it stick up in all sorts of angles. He loved his best friend, but sometimes he just didn’t understand the man. Who lets their princess go out for ice cream at two in the morning? With only one security detail? And lets her drive, muchless at breakneck speeds without a seatbelt?
“It happened. Let it go.” Calum was over this conversation. More so, he was over Ashton continually reminding him of his somewhat shameful actions. He didn’t regret them, though. No matter what happened, he wouldn’t change a single thing about that night. Listening to her ramble, watching her hair whip in the wind as she rolled the top down, seeing her grinning from ear to ear with her ice cream. Calum was a lot of things, but stupid was not one of them.
“Whatever. The princess turned in her detail request form.” Ash was already in the doorway of the room as he spoke, turning his head halfway around to speak to Calum once more. “Looks like you’re going solo with her.”
Calum breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe it was childish for him to get jealous over such a simple thing, much less jealous this quickly, but he was still relieved nonetheless. Right as Cal finished lacing up his boot, his phone buzzed with a notification. He glanced down at it without paying much attention before snatching it up hurriedly. It was just a simple text, but it was enough to get his adrenaline flowing and his body moving on autopilot.
Calum’s mind was racing as fast as his legs, pumping his arms trying to get any ounce of speed he could. Curse this damn castle, it’s hallways practically a never ending labyrinth. The security rooms were almost on the other side of the castle, and, more than that, her quarters were at the very end of the wing that they resided inside. As soon as Teddie’s door entered Cal’s line of sight, he was hit with a final burst of motivation and adrenaline.
Calum practically busted down the door, entering the room with a bang. He whipped his head around wildly, desperately searching for Teddie. When he couldn't find her in the main room, his heart dropped and his instincts kicked in, alerting Ash that something was wrong. He ran into her bathroom, still searching wildly. With every second he couldn’t find her more and more panic set in. How had she escaped? Had she escaped? What if she was taken?
Cal was about to shut down the entire castle when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Cal whipped around, smacking the arm off his shoulder as he did so, only to look directly into the forest-hued eyes he so desperately loved. Teddie glanced at him questioningly, the look on her face saying what’s-your-issue?
Cal, however, refused to say anything. Instead he placed his hands on her bathroom sink and took a deep breath, his knuckles going a bit white from gripping the porcelain so tightly. Cal squeezed his eyes shut tightly, trying to refrain from strangling the princess. After deciding that his feelings weren’t worth assassination, Cal called off the security threat and turned to face the princess.
“What were you thinking?” Cal barely gritted the words out without screaming at her. Usually he felt like he kept a pretty good handle on his emotions, but when it came to the princess, Cal found that pretty much all the rules went straight out the window.
“What? I just asked you to come here?” Teddie acted completely innocent, instead wondering why Calum was all worked up and sweaty. She stood there while he glared at her, not even flinching, although she did find it quite hilarious when his nostril flared out in anger. Teddie rolled her lips into her mouth in an effort to keep from smiling. She was one hundred percent positive that if they had been in a cartoon, Calum would have had steam billowing out of his ears.
“You texted me, and I quote, ‘please come here as fast as you can im so so scared please’!” Calum was surprised to find that his voice was still steady; he sure as hell wasn’t. Calum had been a part of the princess’ security team for all of a month and yet, he knew he was practically whipped for her already. When had he lost his spine?
“And I am!” Teddie had sent that text in all seriousness. She was actually in a bit of a crisis, and while it didn’t quite make sense, she knew the only opinion she wanted on the matter was Calum’s. Teddie looked deeply into his eyes and grabbed his sinewy arm, dragging him into her closet. Once there, Teddie stopped in front of the two dresses she had selected out of her extensive wardrobe. “Which one?”
“What?” Cal was dumbfounded. He was honestly in a state of true disbelief. He knew, he knew that Teddie had not seriously called him all the way down here in a panic only to have her say that she needed help choosing a dress.
“Which one? C’mon I can’t decide!” Teddie stamped her foot impatiently and crossed her arms. She was not exactly patient when it came to this sort of thing. Politics, yes. Fashion, no. Her two gowns were both brand new, designer of course, but she loved both of them too much just to choose. Plus, she looked sexy as hell in both, so no matter which she chose, the dress would do her right. She stared at the dresses, not noticing that Calum was about to burst a blood vessel. She ran her hand over the dark material of the first dress, finding the silk cool against her skin.
“I don’t know?” Cal rubbed his hand over his face. The princess was really trying his patience. “Listen, I’m sure you’ll look beautiful in whichever you choose, okay?”
And then Cal froze. What had he done? Well, actually he knew what he did; he just didn’t know how Teddie would react. Cal wanted to evaporate into thin air then and there. He was a bodyguard, and here he was falling for the princess, flirting with her. Had he lost his damn mind? Cal just chose to keep his hand glued to his face, feigning annoyance. After a moment of silence from Teddie, Cal worked up the nerves to glance over at her, only to find her lost in her own little word, smiling as she ran her hand over the pink silky material. Cal mentally breathed a sigh of relief, more than thankful that Teddie had apparently not heard him. He muttered a quiet excuse to leave and slipped out of the room, trying to save himself from any further embarrassment.
Beautiful. Calum had called her beautiful. Okay, maybe he had inadvertently called her beautiful, but the sentiment was still there. Teddie had noticed Cal glancing over at her to see if she’d react (the man wasn’t as subtle as he thought), but she had contained her glee to a small smile that still managed to reach her eyes. Maybe her dad would be unhappy with her decision to only take Cal to Victoria’s ball, but she knew it was the right one to make. She’d deal with her consequences later, after what she was planning to be one of the best nights of her life.
__
Teddie didn’t know how, but she had fallen for Calum. Actually, more like willingly threw herself down a flight of stairs for Calum, but that was beside the point. As she watched him dust the freshly spilled flour off his black turtleneck that clung to his muscular chest, Teddie reminded herself to go hug her father again for setting her up with this blessing.
“Remind me again why you’re making these yourself instead of having one of your many available chefs make them?” Calum sighed, giving up on getting all of the flour off of his sweater. It was completely unprofessional to walk around looking like he had partially bleached his shirt, but that was a hazard of the job he supposed.
“Because the entire point of making homemade chocolate chip cookies is to make them yourself, dork.” Teddie squinted her eyes at the man, the look on her face saying how completely obvious that should have been. She continued to scoop the dough out and form it into little balls, continually pushing up the sleeves of the chunky forest-hued sweater she was wearing, before sliding the tray into the oven. She, too, had flour dusting her sweater and a touch on her chin, but unlike calum, she didn’t care. To Teddie, spilling flour or whatever was just part of the experience.
“I see.” Calum said nothing else, instead just standing there stoically. There were a few issues with him being with Teddie while she was making said cookies, the first of which being that he was supposed to be at home today and he knew that if any of the boys caught him here, they would know everything. His second issue was also that he was supposed to be going on a date tonight, but instead, was once again here with Teddie. However, the third issue, and quite possibly the biggest one, was that watching Teddie, dumb flour-spattered Teddie, make these dumb cookies and lecture him about the experience was making him fall even further in love with her. It was also making him admit that he was in love with her in the first place.
Teddie had issues. Not only was she unable to surf as often because of the weather getting colder, but the true problem with that was now she had no way to blow off steam, anxiety. Sexual needs. Teddie hadn’t been surfing in a few days which meant that she was bound to do something stupid anytime now. Such as reaching up and brushing some of the flour off of Calum’s jawline. As soon as her thumb grazed Cal’s skin, she knew that things could only go downhill from there, or uphill depending on how she looked at it. Teddie’s hand lingered on Calum’s face, not wanting to lose the feeling of the warmth of his skin on hers. They stood there for a moment before Calum took a small step towards her, closing the gap between them.
As soon as Teddie felt Calum’s breath hit her face, she knew that she wanted this. Wanted him.
“Would you be okay if I kissed you right now?” Teddie wasn’t sure how Calum felt, only how she felt. It was a tad difficult to decipher his feelings, since Teddie was pretty sure Cal was the definition of tall, dark, and handsome with a splash of stoic thrown in. Still, Teddie had never been timid, and she figured that the worst could happen was that she was rejected. Who needed constant love and approval, anyways?
“Are you sure that you want this?” Cal wanted her. Cal wanted her more than anything. But Cal also knew that Teddie would ascend to the throne, and for that, she would need a king to rule beside her. Calum didn’t want for them to tangle their feelings into a knot that would be impossible to separate without cutting it.
Teddie decided to respond by pressing her lips to Calum’s, cupping his neck with one hand and his cheek with the other. Calum wrapped his hands around her waist, pulling her closer until they were pressed against each other. The kiss was passionate and hungry, but neither of them was particularly interested in taking it any further at this point. Together, the two of them got lost in each other, exploring each other’s tastes and scents. Teddie was insanely excited to find that she was almost the perfect height for Cal, neither of them having to crane their necks in order for their lips to meet. They were lost in their own little world for an indefinite amount of time, but as soon as Cal found his lips trailing closer to her neck, they both heard a loud alarm go off.
“My cookies!” Teddie gasped and detangled herself from Calum, rushing over to extract the treats from the oven before they burned. Maybe Teddie wasn’t great at following the rules, but she always followed recipes to a T.
Cal chuckled at her panic and leaned himself against one of the counters, watching her carefully examine every cookie. “So are we gonna talk about it?”
Teddie threw him a sideways glance, the majority of her attention still focused on her treats. “Yeah, alright. I’m not interested in just hooking up, so if that’s all you have to offer, then I think I’ll be better off alone.”
Calum raised his eyebrows, sort of taken off guard at her tone and words. Although, he couldn’t say he was completely surprised. Teddie was never one to sugarcoat her feelings or words. “No.”
“No, what, asshole?” Teddie wasn’t about to play games with Calum. Her feelings were not the place for him to show just how stoic and broody he was.
“No, it’s not just a hookup. I want this. If you’ll let me have it, of course.”
“So you’re a sub, hmm?” Teddie couldn’t help it. Calum, for once in his life, looked soft and vulnerable and Teddie knew damn well this would be her first and only opportunity to see that side of him. And make fun of it. From the look on Calum’s face, she would never get to see him ask for permission again, but it was well worth it.
“Baby girl, you have no clue.” Calum walked over to where Teddie was standing, lifted her onto the counter and marked her right then and there. Where no one could see it, of course.
___
After the life he had led, Cal was absolutely positive that the whole karma theory was bullshit. There was no way in hell that he deserved anyone even a fourth as beautiful as Teddie. Or a tenth as wonderful. She was firey and passionate, as she demonstrated time and time again, and everything Calum wished he could have been. So when he saw Teddie ascend the steps into the ballroom, Calum almost fainted. Internally, of course. He had a reputation as a tall and stoic badass to uphold. Still, people couldn’t see his heart stop. She was radiant, far and away the most beautiful woman in the gala. Probably the world, but Cal figured he was a tad biased. Her creamy skin was glowing against the deep turquoise silk of her dress. So it was no wonder he couldn’t keep her eyes off of her for the rest of the night. Luckily enough, that was his job.
___
After a week of late night hookups and hickeys, Teddie was exhausted in the best way possible. Maybe she had said that she wasn’t just a hookup when she and Calum had first gotten together, but he made it so damn hard to resist giving in. To be able to say no. Which was why she was in her own little word at Victoria’s gala the next night. Instead of partying all night and drinking until she couldn’t feel like Teddie had planned, she was instead daydreaming about Calum and barely sipping her champagne. Victoria caught on quickly, but Teddie wasn't surprised about that either. She wasn’t exactly being discreet about it.
“Alright, spill.” Victoria crossed her arms and demanded to know what Teddie was so lost about.
“Spill what?” Teddie knew what. However, she figured she might as well try to feign ignorance. They certainly didn’t have time to unpack everything that had transpired over the last few weeks.
“‘Spill what?’” Victoria mocked Teddie, tired of the games. She was desperate to know what had put such a spell on her best friend. “C’mon. It’s my birthday. You have to tell me.”
Teddie smiled without realising it, the mere thought of Cal making her feel warm in more places than one. After a bit more coaxing, she told Victoria everything that happened over the past few days. Teddie felt her smile grow the more the spoke about Calum, Victoria’s expression matching her own. Despite being cripplingly alone herself, Victoria was happy that Teddie had found someone that made her so happy. And Victoria told her as much, ensuring that Teddie knew how happy she was for her. Victoria brought Teddie in for a tight hug, in that moment not giving one shit about wrinkling her dress, or messing up her hair, or anything else that she had fretted about for all those weeks. Teddie and Victoria stood there silent and happy, just looking into each other's eyes in a minute of happiness and friendship. For that moment, everything was perfect.
Then Teddie watched Victoria’s eyes go wide as a loud bang filled the room. It was like a blast to Teddie’s ears, making everything go silent. Then everything started ringing and Teddie felt a warm liquid splatter her face and arms. Teddie couldn’t do anything as she watched Victoria’s body go limp and sink to the floor, unable to even breathe. Teddie knew what was happening, fully aware of everything going on around her, but she still couldn’t do anything about it. The ringing was still there, but it had subsided enough for Teddie to hear someone screaming. She wanted to tell whoever it was to stop, but then Teddie realized that she was the one who was screaming. Yet, she still couldn’t stop. The liquid was still on her body, dripping down into her eyes. Teddie knew she should have run, taken cover, anything. But once again, she was still frozen in place.
Suddenly, Teddie felt a presence collide with her body, pinning her to the ground. Gunshots continued to fill the room, still muffled in Teddie’s ears.
“Teddie. Teddie. Focus, Teddie. C’mon, doll. Focus on me for a sec.” Teddie was still in a daze as a gruff australian voice called out to her. Still, the entire situation felt unreal to her, like she wasn’t in her own body. She tried, though. Teddie gave her all into focusing on the man she loved. As she felt Cal’s hands support her head and turn it towards his own, Teddie was able to meet Cal’s eyes. “We need to go. I need you to run, okay?”
When Teddie nodded, Calum wasted no time getting them off the floor and sprinting towards the door. Even though Teddie had only requested Calum for the night, he had still made the executive decision to bring along the rest of her detail. Ash and Luke flanked them as Michael provided cover fire in the direction the bullets had been flying from. They were so close, almost to the door, when Calum felt a wave of fire rippling throughout his body. Still, he kept running. Or he tried to, at least. His brain was telling his legs to move, keeping going, but his body refused to obey. Instead he collapsed, waving on the others even as Ash tried to turn back for him. Calum, however, understood the responsibility of the job. He also knew that his own life was so unimportant compared to Teddie’s. Especially to him. She was his number one priority not because she was the princess, but because she was his princess. As Cal watched the love of his life and two of his best friends recede through the doors safely, he took a deep breath, finally relieved.
___
Teddie hadn’t moved in hours. At least, she thought it had been hours. Maybe it had been minutes, maybe it had been days. Teddie had no clue, but she also didn’t have the energy to care. Two of the people she cared about most in the world had been shot, and while Teddie had escaped unscathed, her emotions and ability to function had absolutely been torn to shreds. Still, her closest assistants had been a godsend, helping her through the motions she needed to get through in order to feel even a touch human. Still, even though she had showered and managed to change into different clothes, Teddie could feel the ghost of Victoria’s blood haunting her skin. She didn’t want to feel, didn’t want to think. All she wanted was peace and quiet and to be able to forget everything.
Eventually, Teddie took to wondering the halls, done with being coddled and constantly surrounded by people trying to ‘help’ her. After a few minutes of aimless wandering, Teddie found her feet carrying her towards the med bay of the castle. She wasn’t sure why, but Teddie knew that she needed to see it. To see the aftermath of everything that had happened.
Teddie stepped into mini hospital and the doctor recognized her as the princess immediately, giving her a sympathetic smile before retreating into their office and leaving Teddie to her own devices. Teddie was surprised to find the majority of the medical bay unchanged from the last time she had been in there years ago. Still, because the section was relatively small, she found who she was looking for almost instantly. They still weren’t awake from the anesthesia from the surgery, so Teddie just took a seat on the chair next to them, gathering their hand into her own. It was mere moments before Teddie saw a pair of dark eyes crack open and meet her own, and as soon as they did, Teddie felt fat tears of mourning ripple down her face.
“I know.” Calum hated himself. He hated himself for all the pain she had to go through, for not being there for her, for not being more careful. As he watched the tears roll down her face, Cal was so painfully aware that there was nothing he could do for her. To ease her pain. Despite the bandages and tube and wires, Cal made room for her next to him in his bed. She tucked herself into his side, her tough demeanor evaporated.
As soon as Teddie laid her head onto Cal’s shoulder, she was gone. Just like Victoria.
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sunmoonandeddie · 5 years
Text
feelings are fatal (8/24)
pairing: bucky barnes x reader, past steve rogers x reader
word count: 4,647
summary: After the events of Endgame, you struggle to come to terms with what you’ve lost, though you’re learning that you still have something to gain.
chapter warnings: swearing
masterlist
a/n: I’m so sorry.  This chapter physically hurt me so I’m sorry if you feel hurt.  Let me know what you think!
This compound was weird.
Well, maybe not so much weird as different.  Like, everything in the kitchen was wrong.  The coffee maker was to the left of the fridge and not the right.  The silverware drawer was in the island.  The milk was on the top shelf and not the middle.  And in the living room, there were three couches, not four.
And it wasn’t a bad thing, except sometimes you stared at the empty space where another couch should’ve been and you remembered all the times your team would cram together on the cushions for dinner.
The one thing that didn’t feel different was the dance studio.
You’d found it within a week of moving in, though you hadn’t ever gone in.  You’d lingered at the door a few times, considered walking in and just sitting on the hardwood floor, but something stopped you.
Maybe it was some strange case of survivor’s guilt.  Because dancing had always been more her thing, something she was much better at than you.  You were a great dancer, sure, but you had never felt the love for it that she had.
Taking a deep breath, you pushed open the door and walked inside.  The sunlight pouring in through the floor-to-ceiling windows to your left was so bright that you didn’t bother turning on the lights.  No need to.  Dust swirled through the air as you tossed your duffel bag on the ground, digging out your pointe shoes.
The satin felt so soft against your fingertips.  Such a familiar, comforting feeling.
Without a second thought, you tugged the shoes on, relishing the feeling of tying the ribbons. Dancing had always been therapeutic for you, and you were wondering if it would help just as much now that the world had been put back together.
“F.R.I.D.A.Y.,” you said as you stood, shaking out your feet a little.  “Play Swan Lake by Pyotr Illyich Tchaikovsky.”
The smell of sweat still lingered in the dance studio, but then again, you supposed it never really faded.  The sun was sinking low beyond the horizon and you knew that someone would come along to fetch you for bed sooner or later.  The natural light coming in through the window was slowly fading.
And sundown meant being ordered onto a thin mattress, handcuffs keeping you from running.
After dinner, every girl had about an hour and a half of free time to do whatever she wished.  Most girls spent it in the showers, washing away the grime of the day.  If they didn’t get it done in the hour and a half, they wouldn’t have a chance until the next night.  The only time they were afforded in the mornings was ten minutes to brush their teeth and get on their leotards and tights.
And tights were a bitch.
You took in a deep breath as you reset your feet, determination clear by the way your brows furrowed.  Judging by the sun’s position, you had about forty-five minutes left at most and there was no way in hell you were going to waste it.  You weren’t as good as the other girls in ballet, and it was starting to become obvious.  You could only do single pirouettes while the others were doing doubles.  Your pas de chats weren’t as clear and sometimes, when your brain felt particularly fuddled, you did a glissade instead.
You absolutely could not fall anymore behind.  You had seen the way that Madame B was starting to watch you, a frown permanently etched on her lips.  Even though you were the youngest of the girls in the Red Room, you knew she held the same expectations she had for Rosemary and Victoria, the two six-year-olds.
Natalia frowned as she heard music drifting down the hall, turning towards the sound.  “Nobody should be in the studio,” she murmured softly, the man beside her stilling as she began to head towards it.
“Natalia,” he said gruffly, but she didn’t listen.  His metal arm glinted in the light as he followed after her.  She’d spent the past three hours in a training with him, working on her hand-to-hand with him, and while they didn’t have to report to Madame B after, she always walked with him to the room where his handler was waiting.
Her feet carried her to the doors of the dance studio, her heart softening when she saw you.  She vaguely recognized you, knowing that you were the youngest girl currently at in the Red Room.  It had been a while since they’d brought anyone new in, and she knew it was only a matter time before another one joined their ranks.
You looked up as you heard the door opening, stopping in the middle of an across-the-floor.  Your e/c eyes roamed over the sharp features of the redhead who stood in the doorway, vaguely recognizing that there was a man looming in the shadows behind her.
“You like Swan Lake?” She asked, slowly coming into the room.
You nodded, though you were still hesitant as you watched her.  “It’s my favorite.”
Her eyes lit up as she toed off her shoes, letting her bag fall to the ground.  “Mine, too.” But as she walked closer to you, you took a few steps back.  “What are you doing in here?  Shouldn’t you be showering and spending time with your friends?”
Frowning, you turned your eyes back to the mirror, watching yourself as you reset your feet.  “Madame B says that friends are attachments and attachments mean strings.  And those strings turn into a noose.”
And oh, how Natalia’s heart broke.
Because she knew what it was like to think that way.  Hell, she thought that way until she was about eight and one of the older girls offered to teach her how to braid her hair because it was a little thing that made life in the Red Room not so bleak.  Being able to do something with your hair other than a tight bun made you feel like less of a robot and more like a girl.
She bit her lip, trying to think of how to best approach you. You were trying to ignore her, though she could see the way your eyes would flit over to her every few seconds.  “But don’t you at least want a shower?” She asked.
You bit your lip, shrugging as you pushed up to relevé, your arms wavering as you tried to hold onto first position.  The only sound came from the tinkling of the radio, and she briefly noted that it was somewhere in act two.  “I’m not as good as the other girls.”
Nat let out a soft sigh, a little relieved that that was all. “But you’re a little younger than—”
“I can see how Madame B looks at me,” you said, worry etched into your face.  “I have to get better.”
And she realized that you knew what would happen if you didn’t. You were well aware of the fact that there was no room for imperfection anywhere, whether that be in how well you could take down an opponent and how straight your legs were during a jeté.
You would be put down.  Shot between the eyes like a dog.  There would be no funeral, no memorial service.  Just a quick shot and even quicker clean up.  One of the girls would be tasked with bleaching the floor until there was no trace of blood left while two others were ordered to drab your body outside.  You’d be buried in an unmarked grave somewhere behind the brick building all of you resided in.  Probably behind the shed.
“May I help you?” Natalia asked after staring at you for what she knew was probably much too long.  But you were so young.  So young, and it hurt her to know that you were so worried about dying.
For what seemed like the millionth time, doubts about what she was raised for came to mind.  She knew that within the next year and a half or so, she’d graduate and then she’d be passed over to HYDRA, but she just didn’t know if she could do it.  She didn’t know if she had the strength to be such a force.
You were clearly suspicious of her, but you nodded anyway. After all, she was one of the best dancers there and if she wanted to help you, it was most likely your best bet.
Her lips stretched into a wide, dazzling smile as she came to stand beside you.  “Great. But,” she stopped and couched down so the two of you were eye level.  “I need you to trust me, okay?”
“But—”
“No,” she said, raising up a hand. “I know what Madame B said about strings.  But…” She pointed down at your ballet slippers, tugging on the silk ribbon.  “Think of us as ballet ribbons, okay?  Tying us together.”
Bucky grinned as he slugged Sam in the shoulder, shifting the bags in in hand around.  He’d finally gotten around to going shopping for clothes that weren’t ‘Assassin Chic’ according to Wanda.  Sure, he had a few pairs of jeans and plain t-shirts, but nothing that was really his.
There was one outfit in particular he was excited about.  A suit, matte black with a matching button down.  Oxfords and a bowtie to go with it.  When he’d seen it in the store, he’d had visions of you smoothing your hands over the lapels, fixing his bowtie for him.  Standing so close that he could smell your shampoo.
But that would have to wait. It’d have to wait until you were ready and over your horrible breakup and he was more than willing to wait.  Regardless of the fact that it could take years, he was prepared.
He’d also have to get the courage to actually ask you on the date, but that was besides the point. The point was that he wanted to and he was embracing that now.  He was allowing himself to dream of a time when he could pull you into his arms, twirl you around the dance floor.  Confess to you how he felt without fear of you pushing him away.
Bucky’s eyes lit up as him and Sam got out of the elevator, finding a tiny Stark running straight for him.
“Uncle Bucky!”
“Hey, kiddo!”  He let his bags drop as the little girl careened herself into his embrace.  When she leaned back, he couldn’t help but laugh as he saw the flecks of paint covering her.  “Did you have fun with Auntie Wanda today?”
She nodded excitedly, not unlike a bobble head.  “I painted!” Morgan then grabbed his hand, giving him just a second to grab his shopping bags before dragging him over to the kitchen island.  Paints and brushes are still littered everywhere, little specks of blue and yellow and purple and every other color imaginable speckling the marble.  “Look!”
His heart swelled as he looked at the piece of paper she was shoving towards him, gingerly taking it in his hands.  “Who’s this?”
“That’s you!” She said, pointing towards a very distinct Bucky.  It’s a stick figure, sure, but it’s got long brown hair and a much bigger left arm that’s painted like the one he received from Shuri.  “That’s me, and that’s Auntie Y/N!”  And sure enough, there you are.  The two of your stick figures are on either side of Morgan’s.
“I love it,” he said, pulling her into another hug.  “It looks just like us.”  He frowned as he took in the rest of the kitchen’s occupants.  Wanda and Rhodey were standing at the stove, both working on their respective dinners as they chatted quietly.  Sam had disappeared to his room to put away his own purchases.  He could hear Pepper talking on the phone quietly in the living room, probably some big name client looking to go back over their contract with Stark Industries.
Wanda turned towards him, grinning as she spotted the bags.  She’d been smiling a lot more lately, even though there were still moments when she’d remember Vision was gone and it’d be back to her room until her tears stopped and she was ready to interact with everyone again.  “Are you finally embracing the twenty-first century fashion?” She asked as she spotted the bags from H&M, ASOS, Macy’s, and Zara.
“Something like that,” he said with a faint smile.  He looked around the kitchen again, making sure he wasn’t just missing you.  But, then again, he was sure he’d always find you in a room.  “Where’s Y/N?”
Morgan pursed her lower lip as her arms crossed over her chest.  “F.R.I.D.A.Y. won’t tell me.”
Well, that’s… concerning. Bucky looked up towards the ceiling, as though he’d see a physical form of the A.I.  “F.R.I.D.A.Y., where’s Y/N?”
“Agent L/N asked me to not give anyone her whereabouts.”
“I’m gonna go find her,” he said, ruffling Morgan’s hair before heading towards the elevator.  He knew there was no way you’d be in your room after giving F.R.I.D.A.Y. orders like that.  No.  You were somewhere in the compound, away from everyone else’s eyes.  And any other time, he’d respect your wishes.  He’d give you your alone time.  But something in his gut told him to find you, and his gut hadn’t led him wrong before.
Glissade.  Assemblé. Glissade.  Assemblé.  Echappé. Echappé.  Triple pirouette.  Repeat.
Glissade.  Assemblé. Glissade.  Assemblé.  Echappé. Echappé.  Triple pirouette.  Repeat.
Sweat dripped down your brow, but you ignored it.  You were too focused on going through the combination.  You weren’t sure how long it had been, though you knew it had been a few hours.  Enough time that Swan Lake had looped once and you were now halfway through act three once again.
You frowned as you heard the door opening.  You’d told F.R.I.D.A.Y. to not let anyone know where you were.
“Y/N.”
You fell out of your pirouette, wobbling a little as you turned to look at the intruder.  Bucky was frozen in the doorway, his sea blue eyes locked on your feet.  He looked like he’d seen a ghost.  “What?”
He rushed towards you, his hands reaching for your face.  “What the hell are you doing?”
It was only when he wiped at your face that you realized you were crying.  Trembling, you reached up and touched your cheek, your hand drawing back as though you’d been stung.  Your eyes focused on the bit of wetness that lingered on your fingertips.
Had you really been crying?
“Y/N.  Y/N, look at me,” Bucky said.  His hands were smoothing back the hair that had fallen out of your bun, blue eyes watering as he searched your face.  “Are you okay?”
“I…  I…”  Truth be told, you didn’t know.  You had no idea how long you’d been there.  It was long enough that the sun had almost completely disappeared beyond the horizon, F.R.I.D.A.Y. having automatically turned on the studio lights.
He took a step back, looking you over since it was clear that you were unable to give an answer of your own.  His eyes reached your feet and he cursed, dropping to his knees.  “Y/N, holy fuck.”
Your gaze drifted lethargically until you found yourself staring at your pointe shoes.  Your pretty, previously pristine pointe shoes. Little blotches of red were staining the pink satin.
“Y/N, how long have you been dancing?” Bucky asked as he coaxed you down into a sitting position.  His hands shakily began to unwrap your pointe shoes, desperate to take them off of you but terrified of the damage.
You blinked slowly at him, shivering.  “I don’t know.”  Now that you were aware of the fact that you were bleeding, you could feel the pain coursing through your toes and up through your legs.
He winced as he tugged off the first pointe shoe, a squelch resounding through the air.  The second one was just the same, and it took a lot in you to actually look at the damage you had caused.
Bile rose in your throat as you looked at them.  Blisters covered your feet, though most of them had popped.  Your big toenail on your right foot was half off, blood slowly trickling from the wound.  The skin was rubbed raw, red and angry and bleeding.  
“I…  I’m sorry,” you croaked, a fresh wave of tears coming on as you stared at your feet.
Bucky’s eyes flickered up to meet yours, his jaw slack.  “What? Malen'kiy, no.  No.” He pulled you close, his strong arms wrapping around you as you buried your face into the crook of his neck.  “You have no reason to be sorry.”
“I-I didn’t mean to.” You were outright sobbing now, fingers clutching onto his shirt as he rocked you back and forth.  Swan Lake continued to play in the background.  It was a rather dramatic soundtrack for a rather dramatic moment, you thought fleetingly.
The super soldier wanted nothing more than to be able to take your pain away.  Whatever had caused you to do this, he wanted to end it.  But he knew that more often than not, your battles were ones that he couldn’t fight for you.  He could only be by your side and offer you a shoulder to cry on, arms to hold you, while you worked through all of it.
Even though your feet hurt like a bitch and you knew they needed to be bandaged, you couldn’t bring yourself to stand.  You didn’t want to leave this place.  This place that reminded you so much of Natasha.  “I…  I couldn’t remember the combination anymore,” you said.
“What?”
Eyes glazed over, you stared out the windows at the retreating sun.  “She always did this one across-the-floor for warmups.  It was glissade, assemble, glissade, assemble, echappé, echappé, triple pirouette.  Or…” You trailed off, frustration rising in your stomach like curdled milk.  “Or it was glissade, assemble, chappé, glissade, assemble, echappé, triple pirouette.” You groaned, fingers gripping your hair. “I c-can’t remember, god damn it!”
And Bucky wanted to cry. He wanted to cry and sob for you because fuck, you’re realizing that as time passes, you’re not going to remember the little things, like what Natasha’s favorite ballet combination was.  One day you won’t remember what color the ratty t-shirt she always slept in was, or whether she liked pepperoni on her pizza or not.
And he knows why ballet hurt the most.  Why it would be the worst thing you could lose.  He had been there when Natasha first talked to you, all those years ago. You’d only been five years old and had stared at the redhead with such distrust that it was hard to believe that you two would become so close later on.  He’d watched in the doorway as Nat helped you perfect every move.  Every pirouette, every fouetté, every pas de bourrée.
Of course, he hadn’t known then how much you would eventually mean to him.
“Hey, Barnes.”
Bucky was surprised to see Natalia standing in front of him, so familiar after all those years.  “Hi.”
She took a seat beside him, crossing her legs as she handed him a beer.  It was strange, drinking at a time like this.  There were six of you cramped into a motel room with only two beds and a pullout couch, and with his best friend having his girlfriend with him and Wanda and Vision being a… thing, it would seem as though the Winter Soldier was going to have to sleep in the same bed as the infamous Black Widow.
Fantastic.
“How are you feeling?” She asked, popping open her own beer and taking a long drink.  Her gaze was locked on you, even though you were currently asleep with your head in Steve’s lap.  He’d noticed that she was incredibly protective of you, and had no desire to invoke her wrath.
Which would be easy if he didn’t know you.
For the past four days, he’d been trying his best to convince himself that he didn’t know you.  He didn’t know twenty-year-old you.  He knew seventeen-year-old you.  He’d known a girl who was trapped in the Red Room and was preparing to spend her life working for HYDRA, not the Avenger who was in love with his best friend.
Yeah, he definitely didn’t know that girl.
And if you recognized him, you hid it well.  Sure, you were friendly and held conversations with him, but never anything too long.  Never anything meaningful.  And yeah, it hurt, because it wasn’t like he’d been wearing his mask when he’d trained you.
Was he really that forgettable?
“What do you mean?” He asked, trying his best to appear nonchalant. Besides all the shit he was going through with trying to pretend as though you didn’t mean the world to him, he was also still coming to terms with the fact that he’d been used as a weapon against his own will for over seventy years.
“I mean, we went on the run four days ago,” Nat said with an eyeroll.  “You had your entire life uprooted.”
“Wasn’t much of a life, to be honest,” he said, briefly thinking back to the shitty one-bedroom apartment he had kept in Bucharest.  His eyes slowly slid back over to you, though he didn’t realize how obvious he was being.
The redhead followed his gaze, smiling a little.  “That’s Y/N.  Been on our team for about two years now.”  She suddenly turned on him, and he’s afraid that she knew he already knew her when she said, “You might actually recognize her.  The first time I talked to her, you were there.  She was this little thing I helped teach ballet.  You watched in the doorway when I first found her in the Red Room.”
And oh.  He actually hadn’t known that was you. And you know what, that’s even more strange because now he knew three versions of you.  He knew little five-year-old you, fifteen to seventeen-year-old you, and now twenty-year-old you.
“You’re close with her?” He said, though he already knew the answer.  Could see it in the way that Natasha was never too far from you.  Even if you were in Steve’s more than capable arms, she was always ready to take over.  It didn’t matter that you were also a highly trained assassin, you were her pseudo little sister.
She smiled, nodding.  “Yeah. I am.  And now, I think it’s time for me to do my ‘sisterly duty’ and get everyone to bed.  It’s been a long few days and I’m ready to sleep on an actual bed and not a quinjet bunk.” She threw back the rest of her beer as she stood up.  She clapped a hand onto his shoulder which threw him for a moment, but he tried not to let it show.  “Alright, Rogers.  I’m staying in Y/N’s bed so I don’t have to share with Barnes here.”
And oh.  That’s kind of nice.  Because as much as he didn’t want to admit it, he didn’t really want to share a bed with her, and he also really didn’t want Steve to share a bed with you.
Even though that made absolutely zero sense since you were his best friend’s girlfriend.
“I actually managed to get her out of the Red Room.”
His head whipped up to look up at the assassin, shocked that she was still talking and hoping that this wasn’t heading towards a conversation he really didn’t want to have at the moment.  From just behind the redhead, he could see Steve tucking you into the spot closest to the wall—the farthest away from the window and therefore, the safest in case there was an attack.  He was doing his best not to wake you, though he could hear you mumbling, still half-asleep.
Natasha hesitated before continuing, “I actually…  I rescued her because I got a message through a back channel, telling me that Madame B was going to kill her and I needed to get her out.”
Bucky didn’t reply, just swallowed down the lump in his throat as he moved to crawl onto the pullout bed, choosing the spot closest to the window.  Nat seemed to realize the conversation was now officially over and got into bed with you, Wanda and Vision crawling into their own bed in the middle.  He closed his eyes as the light went out, feeling the bed dip as Steve got in.  The only thing he could hear was the steady breaths as everyone slowly feel into a deep slumber.
You sniffled as you clutched onto the super soldier, the sobs slowing down as your body ran out of water to cry.  Exhaustion was quickly catching up with you as your eyes began to flutter shut.  “I-I’m sorry, James.  I’m sorry.”
“Shhh, it’s okay, malen'kiy.  Rest,” he murmured, lips pressing to your hair.  His own cheeks were stained with tears as he felt you relax in his arms, finally giving into your body’s needs.  “I’m here. I’m here.”
He waited until you were completely asleep to stand up, cradling you to his chest.  “F.R.I.D.A.Y., please turn off the music and lights,” he whispered, being careful not to wake you.  He left the pointe shoes behind as he carried you out of the dance studio and up to your room.  He knew that you’d have to have your feet checked over tomorrow and that he really needed to talk to you about seeing Sam, but that last thing could wait until you had a full night’s rest.
Bucky laid you ever-so-gently on your bed, hesitating before grabbing a washrag and a first aid kit from your bathroom and wetting it.  He didn’t want to leave you for a single second.  He knelt beside the bed and carefully wiped the blood from your feet, wincing as he saw the open sores left from the popped blisters.
“James?”
Cursing under his breath, he said, “Go back to sleep, malen'kiy.  I’m just wiping off the blood.”
You sat up on your elbows, blinking sleepily at him.  Your eyes were puffy, cheeks red, and yet, you were still absolutely stunning.  “James, will you stay with me tonight?  Please?”
And he might’ve said no, except for the fact that that you were you and that little please at the end wrung his heart.  “Okay,” he said after a long moment, feeling a little breathless.  “Just let me finish bandaging your feet, alright?”
“Okay,” you murmured, leaning back onto the pillows.
It only took him about a minute more to finish wrapping your feet in bandages, but it felt like an absolute eternity.  “Do you want pajamas?” He asked, clearing his throat as took in the leotard and leggings you were wearing.
It seemed that your hatred for ballet tights was still just as present now as it was back in the Red Room.
He turned around as you changed, having tossed you a t-shirt, shorts, and underwear like you’d requested of him.  He felt sweaty and disgusting as he listened to the soft sounds of your leggings and leotard hitting the floor, knowing that for just a moment, you were bare.
“You can turn around now,” you said, and when he turned, you were already under the comforter and pushing back the other side so that he could get in.
His heart hammered in his chest as he crawled in beside you, his mouth feeling like a desert as he pulled the comforter up.  As soon as he was comfortable, you curled into his chest.  It left him no choice but to wrap his arm around your waist.  He closed his eyes contentedly as he felt your hot breath fan against his neck.  “F.R.I.D.A.Y., lights off.”
The room went dark and his fingers splayed against your back, holding you steady.  “Goodnight, James,” you whispered.
“Goodnight, Y/N.”
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hyacinthsgareth · 4 years
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we were wild and fluorescent, ch. xviii
robert and aaron reminisce, there's another letter, and aaron and victoria have a chat
ps it’s rob’s bday 🥺🥺🥺 hbd king, i miss u 💖💖💖
1 october 2021
Seb tugs his bobble hat down with one hand, the other gripped tightly onto Aaron’s as they make their way to the cemetery. The first of October is by no means Aaron’s favourite day of the year, but it’s an important one nonetheless. It may be the day his little sister died, but it’s also the day she was born, so that’s something that deserves celebrating. Seb’s been understanding that more this year than the one prior (last year he’d been fairly impatient when they visited Gracie’s grave but this year he seemed quite keen on going to see her and so Aaron figured they’d go a bit earlier than the planned time for the rest of the family and friends).
“Daddy!” Seb tugs on his hand and Aaron hums in response.
“What’s up mate?”
Seb shakes his head, bobble shaking with him. “No! Other daddy!”
He points up ahead and sure enough, there’s Robert, standing in front of Grace’s grave with a small bouquet of flowers.
continue reading on ao3!
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icedanceupstarts · 5 years
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Junior Dance Comparison: Riga and Chelyabinsk
After two more JGPs we have our first confirmed finalist and a number of interesting debuts and showdowns.
JGPF Contenders
Shanaeva/Naryzhnyy 
RD FD
First to qualify for JGPF! Still one of our favorite RDs at any level, even in a season where we may see almost as many Bonnie and Clyde programs competed in ice dances than the number of performances the actual show had on Broadway. The structuring and choreography is just perfect and our favorite Bonnie and Clyde thus far. The free dance is still growing, but they're making huge strides and that combo lift is already amazeballs. They've got a lot of time to prepare for the final and watch their competitors, and we're sure they're going to make the most of it.
Khudaiberdieva/Filatov
RD FD
Reigning junior world silver medalist Khudaiberdieva didn't miss a beat getting into her new partnership, and she and Filatov make a wonderful match with loads of potential, plenty of that which they are already starting to reach. La La Land doesn't really spark joy for us, and we're...not sure the costuming is bang on the money? Still, they're a great new team who have adjusted quickly. Their free dance is a kind of moody, modern and a great dramatic backdrop for their developing style. They're about to go into their second event to hopefully clinch their trip to JGPF on their first try, and it's going to be a great experience for them. If they can keep progressing this quickly, they should be a major threat for titles, both domestically and internationally.
Kazakova/Reviya
RD FD
Kazakova/Reviya lost out on the gold in Riga by a nose due to their RD, but their FD has already garnered praise as being one of the best of the season, and rightfully so. From the overhead toss that's just choreography to one handed cartwheels in the choreographic steps to just their overall commitment, it's an utter delight. Their RD is great too, but they've historically been a little hit and miss with keypoints, and that's what cost them the win in Riga. Their lack of domestic competition means they can solely focus on their international rivals rather than on qualifying for junior worlds, and with any luck they'll not only be the first Georgian team to medal at junior worlds, they'll do it with Linkin Park.
Davis/Smolkin
RD FD
This team is really growing on us, even if their RD does not purrfectly fulfill our wishes of a true cat themed program. They're selling it more and more each time with so much speed and energy and FACE that grabs the audience. Their lifts have some real wow factor, we particularly like the entrance to their rotational lift in the free. It's a bluesy rock program that's very different from what their competition is doing and serves them well. Unfortunately a silly bobble on the spin reduced it to base level and cost them quite a few points that puts their JGPF spot in jeopardy, and they'll have to spend the next few weeks crossing their fingers. They shouldn't be too disappointed if they don't make it, however. Not only do they have another season in juniors, teams have made junior worlds in the past over teams that qualified for JGPF, even in Russia's tough domestic field. If they keep improving the way they have been and skate the way we know they can, without mistakes, making that team and even challenging for the podium is quite pawsible.
From Russia With Copyright Infringement
Tyutyunina/Shustitskiy
RD 
YouTube has been acting up a little this season and been blocking some of the JGP videos which is deeply disrespectful to Ted, and Tyutyunina/Shustitskiy were one of the victims. Their rhythm dance thankfully remains available, and is remarkably charming for a La La Land program, and in our opinion the best La La Land of the event, for whatever that's worth.
Fortunately we caught their FD live and we got a chance to see their emotional free dance with some truly gorgeous moments, like their transitions through the twizzles, and their lovely constant flow over the ice and great connection with the music. They have very mature partnering for their ages thanks to this already being their seventh season skating together. The field in Russia is so tight they might not receive a second event, but even if so they can use this time to prepare for Nationals and try to make the junior world team. They're so young despite having been together for so long, and even if they don't make it this season can set themselves up well for next season, and there's also the Youth Olympics to consider as well, for which they are the only age eligible Russian team to have competed on the JGP thus far. These young talents have a lot of opportunities ahead of them and we hope they get the chance to develop.
Zhukova/Karpov
FD
Zhukova/Karpov fell prey to lawyers, so their RD will remain one of life's many mysteries for the time being although we can confirm she's wearing Anastasia Skoptcova's old dress. Taking into account that she's also wearing Victoria Sinitsina's old FD dress for their own take on Norma, it is truly heartwarming to see a young lady so interested in recycling. Not so heartwarming to see an otherwise strong program come crashing down in a double fall on the final element but getting on the JGP at all was a great opportunity for this new team. They probably won't get another assignment, but all experiences are necessary experiences for a team to be able to develop. Looking forward to Nationals, it's going to be a tough road for them to claw their way up the ranks but they can set themselves up well for next season.
Vive La France
Dupayage/Nabais
RD FD
You can always count on the French to be a little offbeat and that was certainly seen with Dupayage/Nabais. Singin’ in the Rain May not be the most original choice for a musical rhythm dance but they’ve managed to make the program their own. Their free dance starts off with their choreographic character steps right off the top of the program, a unique choice for an element that most teams have put much later in their programs.
Terreau/Perron
RD FD
Every bit as unique and original as they were in their first JGP outing this season, they put up slightly lower scores than during their season opener in Courchevel. A lengthy delay ahead of their rhythm dance didn’t distract them at all, still coming on strong with lots of speed and energy. Their free dance is a completely different image for them but both programs feature some of the most embellished costumes of the event.
O Canada
D'Alessandro/Waddell
RD FD
Every inch the talented youngsters, and there are quite a few more inches on them than last year. Reigning junior national bronze medalists and coming into this season the on paper favorites to be the next top junior Canadian team, they have rested on their laurels, and for good reason given how fierce the domestic competition is. The foxtrot really suits them and their long, elegant, sweeping lines and upright carriage, and they have a super neat stationary lift to end the program. A Meatloaf FD seemed a bit of A Choice on paper but we found it really worked for them, although we did occasionally wish for some better angles from the camera, like on their curve lift. Any program can work if you skate with enough commitment and joy, and these two could skate with half of their infectious enthusiasm and still make it work. They're one of three Canadian junior teams to earn the nonexistent pewter medal so far this JGP season, but they'll have another crack at the podium at the final JGP in Italy. The judges clearly like them, and they can build up steam to try to take their first junior national title.
Bashynska/Beaumont
RD FD
We remembered Bashynska/Beaumont from last season, with their endlessly charming Cinderella FD with a dress change gimmick, but we have to admit we didn't initially peg them as one to watch before they started competing this summer. They've truly blossomed this off-season into a team fighting for the junior national title, quite the step up from last season where they were a distant tenth and had the lowest scores and Skate Canada Challenge results of all the teams who had qualified for the JGP last season. They're developing a nice classical elegance and have a really nice pattern in the rhythm dance. We were blown away by the maturity they displayed in the free dance-- surely these can't be the same adorable babies from last season?? Now as the first Canadian team to medal on the JGP they've got an advantage if they can keep this momentum going through their next JGP and Nationals. With their grace and power through the details of their choreography, they're going to be a top contender for the junior worlds team, and quite possibly be leading it.
Galiyanova/Lochhead
RD FD
After the disappointment of their previous outings it was really nice to see Galiyanova/Lochhead find their footing and deliver two strong performances. Their intricate programs with all their technical upgrades have kept tripping them up but this time they skated smoothly and confidently without any mishaps. They have a much more theatrical take on Bonnie and Clyde than Shanaeva/Naryzhynyy and it's delightful. Their free dance is a little unusual, and we're not entirely sure how to describe it. It's almost a Latin program at the start, but shifts gears before it can really settle into that genre into something completely different. Maybe it's their skating skills or emoting or complete commitment to this program but we find ourselves fairly willing to trust where they're taking us on this journey.
American Upstarts
Wolfkostin/Chen
RD FD
Bummer for these two in the RD again, but they're such a talented team and already quite adept at recovering from mid-program mishaps, something that can challenge even much more experience teams. It's clear that the judges are already responding to them, and for good reason. They're having some typical newbie growing pains but they have so many qualities even so. From their showy hamminess in the RD to their raw and emotional FD, they carry their speed, projection, and long lines through everything. Hopefully they've gotten the last of the jitters out and skate strong performances the rest of the season. If they can put together two solid programs going forward, they've got every chance to make an impact not just at nationals, but at junior worlds.
Brown/Brown
RD FD
These cute little fan favorites keep getting better and better. They're a really talented team with great positions and nice skating skills and a lot of charm, but they were also clearly one of the younger teams in the field. Their projection in the RD could use a little work but they give such great face and their movements are so placed. They skated even better in the free dance even though the second piece of music was...not a fave. That's how good they are, that they picked music that made our souls shrivel and still sold us on it. They need more time and experience to develop to their fullest potential, but they're really going to be a sight to behold when they do. We hope they clean up the little issues and develop their programs further. They were one step away from the junior world team and this could be their year.
Cesanek/Yehorov
RD FD
An extremely solid team that made an extremely solid JGP debut! Junior ice dance truly is ridiculous. Plenty of energy in their rhythm dance and great attention to detail in their modern FD. They teamed up last season but needed more time to get things together, especially in the depth of the American dance field. They've got a lot of maturity and nuance in their skating that should serve them well in their attempts to stand out domestically. They've got a second JGP coming up to distinguish themselves at further now that they've gotten their feet wet, and this time they won't be the only American team present. If they harness their power and maturity while gathering confidence, they could start to make their mark before Nationals.
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robronsecretsanta · 5 years
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(we will be together) if the fates allow. pt. 1
for @raelee514 aaron/robert a coffee shop AU in three parts
ao3 link
“Careful with that one,” Ellis muttered as he squeezed through the door next to him and struggled to untie the knot in the back of his apron in a hurry to finally get home for the holidays. “Proper Christmas Grinch,” he clarified, giving a subtle-not-so-subtle nod towards a bloke sitting on the corner table at the window with his back towards them, head buried deep in his laptop and an extra large cup of coffee on hand.
“Probably, cause you‘re so charming, eh?” Aaron smirked at him before pulling his dark woolen bobble hat off. It was dripping now that the warmth of the coffee shop had started to work against the dozens of snowflakes that Aaron had brought in with him and he couldn‘t help himself but try and shake some of the drops of water out right against the younger man‘s face.
Ellis‘ corresponding eye-roll earned him a well-meant slap to the back.
Grumpy facade aside, Aaron was the kind of boss who‘d fight a war for his employees, if need be. Especially when faced with some snotty baby boomer, who enjoyed getting offended by just the thought of having to wait in a line for a full three minutes when coming into the shop right at the “last chance to get caffeine before university starts” rush hour of eight forty-five, or some hipster-y part-time-vegan philosophy student who got a kick out of sending back half-eaten cookies five times over for tasting too sweet or too artificial in the hopes of bagging himself a free meal. But that aside, they both knew that - a lot like Aaron himself - Ellis tended to have quite the mouth on him when someone rubbed him the wrong way.
Even more so when he was working the much hated Christmas Eve shift.
Once Ellis had disappeared to his locker to pack it in for the day, Aaron grabbed his own apron and pulled it over his head, giving the machines and the bakery display a quick once-over before taking his place at the counter to face the last few hours of the Christmas shift.
He never much minded it to be honest.
Being his own boss had been Aaron‘s dream ever since he had had to earn his first few pennies as a mechanic under Cain‘s hard-nosed look. All his dodgy ways aside, his uncle had always taken his business incredibly seriously and while Aaron had respected that and had found it something to look up to, 16-year-old him would have respected getting to decide on his own lunch hours and ending up with more than a tenner in his pocket after spending a full eight hours under a bonnet in the burning August heat even more.
And this shop had been his chance at all of that and more. So when the opportunity had come up a little over a year ago, with one of their old customers declaring over a broken shock mount that he was about to move to Germany to make a go of it with his bird and leave his old shop behind without a new owner in sight, Aaron‘s ears had perked up.
Yes, he had only been 25 and yes he hadn‘t know a thing about running a business, but he had loved tea ever since he could remember - a good cuppa sometimes being the only bright spot in his day back when those had consisted of nothing but screaming matches and trouble - and he barely went a day without coffee since an ex-boyfriend of his had dragged him to France for a couple of months, his relationship with the caffeinated liquid the only one that had made it back up north without ending up in tatters.
So he had scoured every savings account and sock for every last penny of his savings. And when that hadn‘t been enough, he had swallowed most of his pride and gotten himself a half-decent loan with the help of his family. Because say what you like about the Dingles, but for what often seemed like a mismatched bunch of thugs and simpletons from the outside, they had always been exceptionally good at coming together to support their own. And they could be incredibly resourceful when need be as well. (Though to this day Aaron would rather not know where Cain and Charity had dug up their respective shares.)
Which was how he had ended up here now.
With a shop of his own, working on Christmas Eve of all days and enjoying every minute of it in a way he never thought he would, the constant grinding of the coffee machines behind him and the bitter smell of caffeine in the air calming his usually so busy mind in a way he‘d never expected it to, but treasured all the more for it. Keeping his shop open for most of the Christmas holiday, even if not as long as usual, had been the one of Aaron‘s best ideas to date. Those days always earning him a few new customers, searching souls who had been let down by all the usual chains and ended up stumbling into the little corner shop in desperate need of a cuppa or maybe just a bit of peace and quiet.
Aaron could relate.
Especially to the latter one, when he himself still had a classic Christmas Dingle do ahead of him later in the evening.
It was why he always liked to send the boys home earlier than usual on Christmas Eve and end the shift all by himself. His place behind the counter had somehow become Aaron‘s own little oasis of calm, carved out for himself amidst the holiday rush.
“Seriously, mate,“ Matty chimed in in a whisper from his place at the till after having overheard the exchange between Aaron and Ellis, dragging his boss from his daydream with it. “He‘s been sitting there since half nine this morning, complaining about everything like a right muppet and with a face like someone‘s just run over his favourite cat and his grandma in one go.” It came out as an annoyed sigh.
There was a quick pause before he added, “could give yours a run for its money, I reckon.”
Aaron furrowed his brows at him and turned to take a closer look at the bloke.
He didn‘t seem like your typical troublemaker, but the light brown elbow patches adorning his dark blue blazer and the thick, black coat hanging over the back of his chair that looked like it might have cost more than Aaron made in a month gave him just enough of an air of poshness to make him the type to complain about his cappuccino only being topped by one instead of the recommended 1.5 inches of foam. And yet there was also something familiar and warm about the man and the way he kept running his hand through his wild blond hair in frustration, strands sticking up in every direction at the back of his head.
Not enough though to make Aaron dismiss Matty‘s judgement out of hand.
Unlike for Ellis, this wasn‘t Matty‘s first stint as a barista. He had survived two years at the local Starbucks before Aaron had taken him on, which meant that he had spent two entire years of his life selling completely overpriced muck to every customer imaginable and somehow keeping a straight face when asked for such atrocities as Unicorn Frappuccinos with almond milk, 6 shots and no whip.
So there usually was absolutely nothing a customer could do to truly put Matty off.
(It was also the reason Aaron had earned himself a massive, unwanted hug from him when he‘d explained that his plan was to just sell coffee and tea, the menu no carrying a single beverage with more than five syllables in its name, nor anything pumpkin spice or snickerdoodle flavoured, thank you very much.)
Which meant that if Matty called someone difficult, they had to be an absolute nightmare.
Robert‘s phone started to vibrate yet again with the fifth video call request from Victoria in as many hours. Before that it has just been a slew of text messages, but his little sister had always been incredibly determined when need be so the chances of her giving up any time soon were minimal to say the least.
Robert had tried.
He really had.
Because it was Christmas and he loved his sister. But also because, as much as he didn‘t ever want to admit it out loud, the loneliness of the bachelor life he had suddenly found himself  forced into was starting to eat away at him.
So he had ordered a ridiculous amount of presents for Vic and Diane online and let them eat away at his savings in an attempt to make up for lost time. Had folded his nicest shirts neatly and ironed all his pants before putting them into his travel bag. He had showered and shaved and - for what was probably the first time in the month since he had had to ditch the slightly upscale room in a B&B he had called home for almost half a year in favour of a tiny one-bedroom apartment for lack of funds -  put some effort into his hair instead of just letting it greasily stick to his forehead, because he couldn‘t even be bothered about the pizza delivery guy realising what a mess of a human he really was. Not that the four orders a week hadn‘t already been a dead giveaway anyway.
And then he had stuffed everything into his car to drive. The fact alone that he had gotten into the front seat with a direction in mind, instead of yet again only having an aimless drive with the only purpose of making the night go by a little faster ahead of him had been enough to put a smile on his face, so he had turned up some Top100 station on the radio and sung along to Cher and Chris Rae in full force. And then he‘d driven out of Leeds and onto the highway and as the sky got darker around him and snowflakes started to dribble onto his windshield until he could barely see the street ahead of him Chris Rae started to sing about all the memories he was driving home for Christmas with just that one time too many for Robert not to remember that in actuality he would far prefer it to drive as far away from all those memories as his Porsche would take him, then to let them hit him again with full force.
So he had left the highway and stopped at the first Motel he could find.
In Hotten.
Not Emmerdale.
Because deep down underneath all the charm and his own illusion of grandeur, Robert had always been a coward at heart and Hotten‘s town sign had been as far as he could manage to drive before it had felt as if his stomach was about to turn with the images that were burning in his mind. Old ones of his dad screaming at him with a red face and wide eyes, of belts with silver metal buckles and burning barns.
But also new ones.
Scenarios that hadn‘t played out in front of him yet, but that his mind enjoyed to torture him with anyway as if they were absolutely certainties. Unavoidable horrors yet to come. Like the disappointment Robert was bound to find in Diane‘s eyes the moment he would take a step through her door or the footless guilt that Victoria would try to hide behind bitten lips and red cheeks for not having been a shoulder to lean on, as if Robert would have let her anyway.
His phone beeped again and he turned it on its screen just so he wouldn‘t have to look at Vic‘s smiling face looking up at him from it anymore.
God, he needed another coffee.
It took almost an hour before Aaron got to really meet the guy that Matty and Ellis had been so happy to throw their “asshole of the month” award at after only spending a mere six hours in his presence.
Aaron had made himself comfortable at table closest to the sales counter with the books spread out in front of him, gnawing on the cap of his ballpoint pen. It was almost four now and the shop was even quieter now than it had been an hour ago, the only customers a young couple completely oblivious to the world around them with their ankles wrapped around each other under the table and their noses almost buried in their respective hot chocolates and the apparent Christmas Grinch who hadn‘t moved from his place in the corner. It had been the perfect opportunity for Aaron to try and get a handle on his budget for the new year, or so he thought.
He had only been lost in thought for a minute or two - the year of running his own place not enough to have stopped numbers and calculations from giving him a right headache just like they had back in school - when the blond was bellowing, his voice carrying through the room and almost making Aaron jump.
“Can anyone around here be bothered to actually work and serve a half decent cup of coffee, for fuck‘s sake?” Out of the corner of his eye, Aaron see him standing at the opposite side of the counter now, one hand grabbing its top tightly as he leaned over and tried to peer into the backroom in hopes of finding someone to yell at the other waving his empty coffee cup. Seemingly, he hadn‘t noticed Aaron hunched over at his table yet, though that wasn‘t all that surprising with all the colourful Christmas decorations that Matty and Ellis had outvoted him on and the till obscuring the view.
“Just a minute, mate.”
Aaron had been doing this for long enough now to know when to pull his best fake-happy customer service voice out of his bag of tricks and this was just it. Calmly, he pushed his chair back and got up, dropping the pen onto the table without a care as he took a deep breath and plastered an overly kind smile onto his face before he turned to face the his new least favourite customer.
The corners of his mouth dropped as quickly as he‘d pulled them upwards as his eyes were met with green-blue ones, high cheekbones and a nose scattered with freckles that he couldn‘t make out with the distance that the counter was putting between the two of them, but could have drawn a map of in his sleep anyway for having spent so many restless nights in hotel rooms softly tracing them with his ring finger in a desperate attempt to commit every inch of the man to memory.
“Robert.”
It wasn‘t a question, just a whisper thrown into the space between them, low and unbelieving.
“Aaron.”
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