For my lovely Cass @henderdads because I owe you a happy, birthday fic 🎂
Steve had a weird relationship with his birthday.
When he was little his birthday was a big event. His mum would wake him up with a big pile of pancakes that he'd get to eat in bed and wouldn't need to worry about getting syrup on the sheets. Then his parents would load him up in the car and they'd go to Indianapolis where they would have lunch in the big park and then his dad would take him to the biggest toystore he'd ever seen and little Steve would pick anything he wanted. He would always fall asleep in the car ride home and his parents would carry him upstairs and tuck him into bed.
Once he started school his parents would throw a big pool party for him and his classmates with cake and presents, one year he even had a bouncy castle. Tommy would get to sleep over and they would get to stay up watching movies and eating popcorn.
Steve could remember the year it all changed.
When he was twelve his parents had to leave for work at the last minute, some emergency Steve didn't really understand. They apologised that they'd miss Steve's birthday but they'd make up for it when they came back and left him money so he and his friends could get pizza or go to the movies while they were gone. It was ok, it felt weird not getting birthday pancakes, he just made himself some cereal and hung out with Tommy and Carol. When they came back they still went to Indy but it felt different, felt forced.
The next year they missed it again, they still left money but there was no Indy makeup trip on their return.
The following year they didn't even realise they missed it until they came back, they gave him some money for pizza, they were leaving again.
By the time he was sixteen he didn't expect anything. He made himself pancakes now, still ate them up in bed, he was a lot better at cooking now. He hung out with Tommy, took Nancy on a date. It was fine, it was just another day but with pancakes.
Robin brought back the magic of birthdays.
When she discovered what his birthday was she insisted she get to plan his day. Steve had no plans so he agreed easily with his best friend.
The night before his birthday she slept over, they crashed on the couch together under a pile of blankets, the TV still on. Steve woke up the next day to noise in the kitchen. He saw Robin making pancakes and almost cried.
"Hey birthday boy! Sit, sit, these are almost done, my mum always makes me pancakes on my birthday so I thought you'd like the same."
"Y-yeah thanks, Robin."
They ate their pancakes as Robin told him about her plans for the day, she had convinced Jon and Nance to carpool the kids to the quarry and they were going to have a picnic down there with the whole little family.
It was a perfect day.
Steve spent his twentieth birthday in a hospital room. Eddie had been here for weeks, Max just down the hall, Steve barely left, only to help volunteers and get a change of clothes. At least Eddie was awake, Steve loved talking to him, learning everything about him. He didn't even realise his birthday had arrived until Robin arriving with a little Tupperware of pancakes.
"Didn't think I'd miss the big day did you? You're old now dingus the big 2-0."
Steve cracked a smile, his eyes stung a bit with tears seeing the pancakes.
"Thanks, Robbie."
"Stevie, you didn't tell me it was your birthday, shouldn't you be doing something fun."
Steve smiled at Eddie softly, "I'm exactly where I want to be, Eds."
The three of the shared the pancakes and swapped stories of birthdays past.
Steve could never pick a favourite birthday but the morning of his 21st came pretty close. He woke up just as the sun started filtering through the curtains of his tiny apartment. Their soft rays gently stirring him. He opened his eyes to see the space beside him empty, he was confused briefly before the bedroom door opened.
Eddie cracked a soft smile as he gazed at his boyfriend.
"Good morning, sweetheart, special delivery for the birthday boy."
That morning they shared a big stack of pancakes in their bed and didn't worry about getting syrup on the sheets. Pretty close to a perfect birthday.
878 notes
·
View notes
Please forgive my noob soul if I don't do this right...
25. Amphibian warpath with Cass (if you're comfortable of course, 2nd runner up would be Delilah)? No ship necessary unless you want to :)
25. Amphibian warpath.
Cane toads at the edges of their invasive range in Australia actually have different behavior than ones in established areas - actually roaming farther and faster. They’re also a lot more prone to cannibalism than their non-invasive counterparts.
(NGTJRNHKTRN AAAAAHH THANK YOU SM ;; You did great! Have some fluff because boy does Cass need it ;;)
There’s a little pond, in Great-Aunt Melanie’s garden.
(It died, of course, with the Briarwoods, but it lives now and for once, for once in her life Cass would rather not dwell on the terror and death.)
Because this spring - with help from Keyleth and her plants and Percy and his chemistry - this spring the frogs are back.
They have probably been there longer than it takes her to notice - her room faces the courtyard, not the garden, and she rarely spends time in its neglected depths.
But one evening she’s talking governance with Vex’ahlia. About the Patchwood, and farmland and grazing rights and all sorts of bland that Percy had ducked out on long before. And the deepest, most guttering and unattractive croak rumbles through the air.
Cass might be embarrassed by how she picks up her skirts and makes haste to the pond. Might. But she’s suddenly eight again, and it’s not Vex but Vesper startled by her laugh and there’s nothing better than catching frogs in the cool evening.
“Come on!” It’s said without thought, without considering that this is Vex’ahlia of Vox Machina - dignified and shrewd and gorgeous and so far out of Percival’s league Cass could be red with delight - might not want to run through the gardens. But it’s - it’s something, a magic Delilah could not twist, to the memory of pollywog pond. Like a bard, or a tale of a frog-prince.
(Percival had hated those stories. Oh, would he turn green if she reminded him that he was the frog-prince, here, kissed to redemption by a fair maiden? Probably.)
The half-elf could outpace her, easily. At first keeping a dignified little trot, before the enthusiasm catches on and she begins to gambol, springing over freshly-tamed hedges to slow her rush to match Cass’ dash.
Cassandra has to extend a hand to stop her from tumbling headfirst into the pond - it’s almost hidden by weeds, now, almost a danger. The grass is wet with rain from earlier and she slips a little, settles to crouch by the lip of it.
“Darling?” Vex whispers.
“Shh - you’ll startle them.”
Her eyes flash, just the barest hint of a reflection catching the light - darkvision, yes. “I never thought - never heard of human nobles cared for frogs.”
“Oh, don’t kid yourself - Percival wouldn’t have been caught dead doing this.” The grass whispers back to them as she adjusts the curtain of he dress, pulls it away from the water’s edge. “But as youngest, I had certain… allowances, for deviant behavior.”
(Stomps down the thought of Ludwig being here with her. No faces, only frogs.)
“Sneaking out to listen to their singing?”
“Not quite.”
Finally, finally, that bullfrog does its very best grumble. He sounds like he’s all the way across the pond, so Cass waits. There’s another frog - this one trilling, high and sharp. A spring peeper. Up in the trees, a distant observer.
And then the twang of a good, green frog and - ah, there he is. Poised between the reeds, echoed soon after by a competitor somewhere nearby.
Cass lunges -
a little too far, her hands skimming water -
and Vex catches her by the back of the dress with a shriek of surprise, dragging her back. A trail of droplets arcs after, courtesy of the soaked dress-sleeves.
“Cassandra!” laughs Vex. “What are you-”
“Got him!” she declares, clutching the wiggly, very miffed amphibian to her chest.
She bundles her prize in the front of her dress, feeling its impassioned kicks and lunges to get free, and fixes the Grand Mistress of the Grey Hunt with a devious grin.
“Frogs,” declares Lady Cassandra de Rolo, “are just about the most unwelcome guests in Percival’s workshop. It’s sporting to see how long it takes him to catch them.”
She stands - burgundy made black with muck at the hem, grass-stained knees, sleeves dripping - and gives her most dignified of looks down her nose. “I would like to see if his time has improved.”
Vex’s grin is one of a sister who has accomplished similar devilry. "You know? I think I'd be curious to know, too."
Oh, they’ll get along splendidly.
(Send me a prompt and I’ll write a ficlet, a HC or an AU idea + share the science fact that inspired the prompt!)
65 notes
·
View notes