Send a 👫and I’ll write four headcanons I have about our muse’s relationship
March and Aggie's version of ASL, when it's just the two of them, is just slightly different than proper ASL. Through years of speaking it, and the inside jokes that had come through the mistakes he'd made while learning it, means that they've developed their own kind of sign language. Our Sign Language, or as Aggie calls it, OSL.
Aggie had been calling him Marching Band since the first day they met. She'd thought it was funny then, and she still thinks it's funny now, but in a much more affectionate kind of way. March is the friend of her soul. They're peas in a pod. Soft, quiet, determined. Neither of them swears very much, they both blush too easily, and they prefer to sit in a field and have a picnic over just about anything else. The only difference is that March can cook. Aggie can burn down kitchens.
The first time March tried to teach Aggie to bake cookies, she somehow mixed up teaspoon and tablespoon so badly that they came out rocks. The second time, after pre prepping all the supplies, she'd mixed up the sugar and salt AND the baking powder and soda. The third time, she sat at the island and took notes. Usually a very detail oriented person, something about cooking intimidates her. She's never tried to bake since, but has become a frequent enjoyer of his efforts.
Aggie can't swim. Once when they were kids, they were crossing a branch over a deep stream in the woods just outside Reynold's ranch, when it broke and she fell in. March got her out, but the whole ordeal was traumatizing and she's no longer fond of water. The only time you'll find Aggie Robshaw's feet off solid ground is in a plane or a Jeté.
Declan and Aggie's favourite pass time together, is giggle. It doesn't matter what it is, but chances are at least something is going to have them exchanging a look and then the giggles set in. With Dec's expressive face, it's almost like she doesn't need words at all some times to get what he's thinking.
When Aggie would get burned out from stretching herself between Ballet, Cheerleading and her ultimately failed run for valedictorian, she'd go to Dec, or video call Dec, and all it takes is a hug, and pep talk from him and she'd be right as rain again. There's not a word out his mouth she doesn't trust explicitly, and in an interview for the Times after she had become principal dancer for the NYC Ballet, she'd attributed part of her success to him by name.
Dec spent a lot of time being her balance beam. Standing in one place holding her hand while she practiced her pointe, the pair just chatting to distract her from the discomfort of pointe conditioning.
Declan's grandparents house had always been, and remains to this day, one of her favourite places on the planet, and they some of her favourite people. She'd spent much time there with Dec as a kid when they'd babysit for her parents, and then when they'd study together as teenagers. And she spent time there now, quietly spending time with him, and making sure his grandparent's memory stays alive in the house with their constant storied memories to each other.
