#*screeches* this is my 4th Another Day propaganda

[jojosgaylittleadventure]

This is the third fic in my Josuyaus series that takes place while they're still in high school You can find my series here.

Summary: Josuke and Okuyasu are both recovering in the hospital after the events of 4th Another Day.

Tags: The Book: JoJo's Bizarre Adventure 4th Another Day, Post-Canon, Pre-Relationship, Fluff, Hospitals, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Sickfic, kinda lol, bi-panic, cuz y'all know i can't write josuyasu without some bi-panic, Friendship, Josuke and Okuyasu are a pair, they are co-dependent, pls do not separate them

[etherealwaifgoddess]

Fireworks & Birthday Cake

Characters: Steve Rogers & gender neutral reader

Summary: After Steve’s birthday / Fourth of July party, he opens up to you and admits something that’s been kept secret for over seventy years. 

Word Count: 1.1k

Author’s Note: Hello lovelies! I meant to get this out yesterday in honor of Steve’s birthday but life got in the way so you’re getting it today. Have no fear, I’m still posting a new chapter of One In A Million tonight. You’re just getting two posts from me today instead of one. I know canon MCU says July 4th is Steve Roger’s birthday, but it always just seemed a little too on the nose for me. And that’s the joy of fanfics, getting to re-do things the way we want them. So please enjoy this little head canon that I’ve been mulling around for a month now. XOXO - Ash

Fireworks & Birthday Cake

It’s a few minutes after midnight when you pull out a thawed slice of cake from your suitcase. You’d managed to abscond with a piece of the cake from Tony’s party and had carefully wrapped it and frozen it to bring along on your trip. Steve tears up at the sight and you share bites between late night kisses and quietly sung chords of happy birthday to you. It’s the first birthday where Steve’s felt so wholly loved since 1936 and he knows that with you by his side that this year is just the first of many.

“Happy birthday, baby” you whisper softly against the shell of Steve’s ear. Another screeching whistle sounds; a trail of light shooting up towards the sky. Fireworks explode over the water in the distance, lighting up the night in electric colors. 

Steve shivers at the feel of your breath against his neck, “Thanks, sweetheart.” He says though it’s only half hearted. His eyes don’t waver from the light show but it’s like he’s looking past it, not at it. 

You pull back and examine the smile that’s stretched tightly across your boyfriend's face. It’s not genuine; the faint lines around his mouth and the set of his jaw are blaring red alarms that the smile he’s wearing is forced. “What’s wrong?” You ask, running a hand slowly up and down the expanse of his back. 

“Nothing,” Steve shakes his head and takes a sip of his beer, “I’m good.”

You give him a lopsided smile, he’s more transparent than he thinks he is. Natasha was right, he’d be a terrible spy. “Is it too much?” you push, “The fireworks? All the people?” Steve had taken to living a quiet life and you worry that maybe the day’s festivities were a little too much. Tony had gone all out for Steve’s birthday/ Independence Day, throwing a lavish party at his mountain house for practically everyone they knew. 

“No, no. It’s… not that. Let’s just enjoy the party.”

“Okay,” you concede, wrapping your arms around his waist to hug him closer. 

The party lingers long into the night and it does wear on Steve more than he’d like to admit. The energy of too many people and too much noise is draining for an introvert like Steve. Tony is living his best life, the center of attention and main attraction for the party goers. It’s kind what he’s done for Steve, but clearly the party is mostly for him. 

Steve lets you lead him off to bed a little after midnight, honestly surprised he even made it that long. 

“I’m too old for this shit.” He grumbles as he sheds his jeans before jumping under the fluffy duvet. 

You join Steve under the covers, curling up around him until your limbs are all slotted like puzzle pieces. You lay across the well padded muscles of his chest and listen to the strong healthy rhythm of his heartbeat. “They didn’t think I’d make it to eighteen back in the day.” he says, finally breaking the silence. 

You roll to face him but he turns you carefully so that he can speak into the darkness instead. It’s easier that way. “I was always coming down with something and getting in fights. I was as surprised as the doctors were every time I went in for my annual physical.” Steve pauses, remembering. You almost comment, but then he starts up again. “My ma made such a fuss out of it too. She was always so happy when my birthday came around again and she made sure I had cake no matter what. A lot of years it was leftovers from our tenement’s Fourth of July party that she’d sneak home and keep in the freezer. I never complained, I knew we didn’t have the kind of money to be spending on frivolous things like sugar and chocolate.” His voice hitches softly, “I miss those leftover cake squares in my ma’s kitchen.” 

“Oh, baby.” You murmur, holding onto him tighter. Realization dawns on you heavy and sad. “Today isn’t really your birthday, is it?”

Steve is silent for a long time. Eventually he sighs heavily, like the weight of the past seventy years is pressing down on him all at once. “No, it’s not.” Steve wraps you up in his strong arms and holds onto you for dear life. He’s not admitted that to anyone since 1941. 

“So why does everyone think it’s today?” 

“When the propaganda team got their hooks in me after the serum, they thought it was appropriate for Captain America to be born on the Fourth of July. The fact that my birthday was actually the fourteenth made it even easier for them to just drop the one from all of my documentation. It wasn’t worth it to argue at the time. I never thought being Captain America would turn into something so big.”  

“I’m sorry, baby. I know you lost so much of yourself after the serum, but this you should still be allowed to have. What if we go away for your birthday? Your real one. I can get a few days off work and we can go away somewhere quiet.” 

“That-“ Steve starts and stops, clearing his throat roughly. “That would be real nice, sweetheart.” 

You lean in to kiss him briefly but when his wide palm captures the back of your head, you linger; the kiss deepening. You’ve spent the better part of a year helping Steve adjust to modern life while reclaiming the bits of himself he thought were lost to the past. It’s been a delicate dance of patience and hope, and you love that you’ve been by his side for all of it. 

Nine days later you borrow one of Tony’s ridiculous convertibles and drive up the coast to a quaint little seaside town full of historic New England charm. You booked a room for the two of you at a B&B where the owners are kind and welcoming, not once acting like they recognize Steve as a celebrity. The trip is only for two nights, letting Steve spend his entire birthday relaxing before you have to head home the following day, but it’s exactly what he needs. A full twenty four hours where he can just be Steve Rogers the man, not a spandex clad national icon. 

It’s a few minutes after midnight when you pull out a thawed slice of cake from your suitcase. You’d managed to abscond with a piece of the cake from Tony’s party and had carefully wrapped it and frozen it to bring along on your trip. Steve tears up at the sight and you share bites between late night kisses and quietly sung chords of happy birthday to you. It’s the first birthday where Steve’s felt so wholly loved since 1936 and he knows that with you by his side that this year is just the first of many.