#Sparkling Birthday Balloon Delivery | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff · 3 years

Text

Valentines Day for Nerds (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)

Summary: Spencer’s favourite holiday is often taken up mostly by work, but this year his enjoyment doesn’t seem to be as disruptive in the BAU bullpen. The team soon realise why.

AN: It’s a bit late- who am I kidding? IT’S ALWAYS HALLOWEEN IN OUR HEARTS! This was a part of @imagining-in-the-margins fic swap, for the brilliant @agntprentiss <3

For my smut fic from the swap, check out A Little Indulgence (18+ only!)

Reader uses she/her pronouns!

Word count: 1.7k words

Gif credit to @imagining-in-the-margins <3

Your name: submit What is this?

The first breach of boredom was Penelope practically skipping into the bullpen, her arms cradling a bouquet of flowers as if it were an infant. The bold orange roses contrasted with the dyed black petals of its counterparts as they were planted upon Spencer’s desk.

“Delivery for Doctor Reid!” trilled Penelope, clapping her hands now that they were free of said delivery. Dropping his pen onto his unfinished paperwork, Spencer pivoted the base of the bouquet before he found a small black envelope.

It held a little card with two pumpkins, happy faces carved into them both. Inside were the following words:

Black is for new beginnings,

Orange is for enthusiasm,

Spooky times are afoot tonight,

Watch out for ectoplasm!

I spent ten minutes trying to think of a rhyme for that. Happy Halloween, Cara Mia!

Y/N xxx

Spencer beamed as he placed the bouquet at the edge of his desk, next to the fake severed hand that now held the card in its stiff fingers. He scratched his bristly cheek. Less than a day until he could shave this off. It’d be worth it though.

“Is it from Y/N?”

He looked up to see Penelope had lingered like a lost spirit, waiting to see if her trials of passing on the bouquet had been worthy enough for her to move onto the next world – her Batcave. She was poised with a hopeful expression.

“Yes,” Spencer said, watching Penelope lean up on her tiptoes as she tried to rein in her delight.

She clapped her hands, her purple painted nails clicking as they tapped together, “Are my two favourite ghost hunters up to much this Hallow’s Eve?”

“We’re going to see the Phantasmagoria re-enactment after we go trick-or-treating with Henry tonight.”

It was hard to ignore the absolute glee with which Spencer spoke. Even if one completely ignored the way his voice carried a light excitement, the way his eyes lit up and his broad smile almost fell off his face was enough to connote that he was very excited for tonight. It was also hard to ignore the mild bemusement on the faces of everyone who heard.

Glad to be back and bearing witness to his elated behaviour regardless, Emily cracked a smile, “Maybe she’ll cling to you when she gets scared.”

A heat crawled up Spencer’s neck and he tried to return to work now in hopes that his gift’s display would be cut off. He’d rather sit in the glow of receiving the flowers without mockery.

To the team’s credit, no one ribbed him for it.

The flowers were not the last gift though.

Soon Penelope reappeared, “Your Cupid has returned with another gift for you!”

As he tore at the paper and revealed an Edgar Allen Poe pin – the titular Raven he instantly attached it to his satchel strap – in pride of place, just like the bouquet.

Derek was the one to notice how Spencer’s sandwiches had been cut into little pumpkins. Some digging and Spencer revealed that he had gotten Y/N to order a cutter online. He held his lunch in one hand, his collection of classic Halloween short stories in the other, with a childish glee that no one wanted to squander.

When Spencer climbed the steps to drop off a file to Hotch around mid-afternoon, Rossi walking behind him noted the brand-new socks. A classic odd pairing, and obviously they were Halloween themed. This kid left no opportunity untaken when it came to celebrating Halloween – more than his own birthday.

But Rossi was not closed enough to get a good look at them, and no one else was as close. So, he recruited Emily and Derek to discover what the pattern was. It was Emily and Derek who upped the stakes by wanting to get a glimpse without arousing suspicion. Now that outright asking Spencer was not an option, the game began as they dropped several pens as an excuse to bend over and strain for a flash of those socks.

Derek eventually resorted to a pantomime attempt at tripping in front of Spencer’s desk and gave the jig up straight away by shouting to a stressed Emily (whilst also catching the attention of Hotch through his office’s blinds): “IT’S IT!”

A few language barriers hurdled later, and hindsight brought them both clarity. The red splodge on Spencer’s ankle was officially defined as a balloon.

“So tell us! What’s the other one?” Emily said, her voice strained with how much she was invested in this single sock.

Spencer hiked up his trouser leg to display the skeletal zombie sewn into the sock. “It’s Curtis Danko from When Good Ghouls Go Bad. Y/N had it commissioned for me!”

JJ was watching nearby, unaffected by the tensions of the sock bet. She knew the film because Y/N had wanted to show it to Henry the other week when she babysat him. But upon further inspection, the R.L. Stine film – while intended for kids – might be a little intimidating for Henry to watch without his profiler mother and godfather, police officer father, and favourite auntie there to protect him from the cursed statue.

No one else in the bullpen knew the film.

The team soon discovered that Spencer was not the only one to be on the receiving end of such gifts. Six o’clock rolled around and Y/N entered the bullpen. She was wearing a fuzzy black scarf, some sparkles shining within the wool. At the tail of it, a lucky black cat patch was sewn onto the end. It caught Rossi’s eye and he hid behind a folder as he smiled. The three times that Spencer had forgone a card game with him (in favour of knitting the scarf on the flights back from cases) had been riddled with playful teasing. It was good to see that it was worth it.

Especially when Spencer saw Y/N wearing it and his back snapped straight up. His chair flew backwards, spinning around with the effort that Spencer had launched himself from it, and he and Y/N embraced each other with casual affection.

“How was work today?”

“Not as boring as I thought. But, I have to say: I’m meant to call you Cara Mia.” Spencer’s eyes darted to the card Y/N had sent that morning.

Y/N caught onto his meaning, “Should I stop?”

“Never.”

She rubbed her nose against his and Spencer went pink again, giggling like a teenager. True, he was as smitten with Y/N as Gomez was with Morticia. Then he remembered he was in the workplace as Y/N went to greet the rest of the team, and Spencer’s pink became a scarlet.

“Aww, Pretty Boy,” Derek grinned at him from his desk chair, “You’re so cute!”

“It’s like Sergio!” Emily said, admiring the scarf with her thumb rubbing over the stitches around the cat patch.

“Make sure he’s safe tonight,” Y/N squeezed her hands for a second.

Then JJ appeared from her office, coat and bag over her arm, and she, Y/N, and Spencer wished the bullpen a Happy Halloween before they left.

They had three hours before the Phantasmagoria started. Plenty of time to get ready.

Henry was right behind the front door of his home. The second it opened, he bounced at Spencer’s feet, his tiny hand clutching onto two of his fingers to drag him inside. He was babbling away at such speed that Y/N could barely keep up. She gave Will a wave across the ironing board where he was diligently ironing Will’s cape.

“Well don’t you look handsome!” Y/N beamed at Henry while JJ combed his hair back, slick with gel. It was something he agreed to but only if Spencer was doing the same. Which he was, occupying the downstairs bathroom as he prepared his own costume.

The moment Spencer had finished shaving everything bar the moustache, he was plonked in front of the television. Henry smoothed out his cloak and put in his plastic fangs in to watch the rest of his new favourite Halloween film, The Little Vampire. He mumbled along with Rudolph’s lines and sat enraptured as he pointed out to Spencer the flying scenes. Luckily for him, Will and JJ were getting dressed as Frederick and Freda Sackville-Bagg upstairs to join in the Halloween spirit – last year’s Halloween date night disaster long forgotten.

Henry put in his plastic fangs and hissed at Y/N who emerged in her long sleek black dress. As she stepped across the room as elegantly as Morticia, Spence spied that she was wearing the black spiderweb tights he had bought her today.

“Hello, Gomez,” She smiled radiantly at Spencer, smoothing out his suit jacket as he stood before her. He presented her with a red rose that matched her lipstick to a tee.

As she breathed in the flower’s scent, he kissed her cheek, enjoying her giggle at the bristle of his ‘stache, “You’re stunning.”

“Thank you, and you’re handsome as ever.” She swung their linked hands between them in the opposite way she poised on her tiptoes. “Maybe we should have taken a tango class.”

And she laughed loudly at Spencer’s wincing at such a thought.

“It’s ok, Cara Mia. I’ll settle for a kiss instead.”

Oh, that was something he could do forever. He brought her hands to his lips and kissed her knuckles then the inside of each wrist.

Unfortunately, Henry interrupted the stream of kisses that were headed in Y/N’s way. “Ready to go!” He skipped his way between the happy couple.

It was hard to be mad at Henry, especially with how adorable he looked beside his parents and with his bright orange pumpkin bag ready to collect candy. He felt safe with his four favourite adults guarding him.

“Tonight,” Y/N whispered into his ear and he could hear the smirk in her words, “After the Phantasmagoria.”

Spencer beamed, his dimples delightfully framing that smile. One day maybe, they would have their own Wednesday, Pugsley, and Pubert to join them. And maybe then Derek would dress up as Uncle Fester.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds x reader #my writing #fic swap #r: female #wc: 1k+

348 notes · View notes

itmighthavebeenintentional · 3 years

Text

I’m Ready

Summary: “I can’t...I can’t take my forever if you’re not in it.”

Picks up right where the show left off. Not technically a fix-it, as I didn’t change anything, but I promise it gets better.

Rating: Teen

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of (canon) child abuse and neglect, mentions of past trauma, working through trauma, denial, bit of pining (but, like, in a denial sort of way), some fluff, some angst (but not as much as there is fluff)

Author’s Note: So many thanks to @there-must-be-a-lock for endless suggestions, fixes, and beautiful images (header AND dividers!!!). Thanks to all my friends for cheering me on, especially @thoughtslikeaminefield ; I probably wouldn’t have kept going with the story without you.

This is my first Destiel story and my first time posting in a while. Please be kind.

Word Count: 7704

In case you missed it: ItMightHaveBeenintentional’s Masterlist

Dean isn’t sure how long he’s been in heaven, at least not by heaven’s timeframe. Probably years, maybe even a couple of decades. He doesn’t age in heaven, and time works differently, running fast and stretching slow.

For Dean, heaven is a chance to rest, catch up with his massive found family, and just breathe for the first time since he was a kid. No worrying about Sam, no waiting for the next monster to pop out, no prepping for the next apocalypse.

Nothing like heaven to give a guy time to kick his boots off and just relax.

Unfortunately, relaxing has never come easy to Dean. Sure, he can go through the motions (binge watching horror movies, binge drinking, hell, just bingeing in general), but relaxing is an entirely different matter.

Relaxing means letting his guard down. It means giving up his hypervigilance. It means sleeping hard and staying asleep until he wakes naturally and unassisted by attackers. It means spending long moments reminding himself the monster at the end of the book is really gone.

Sam is safe. Everyone he’s ever loved is safe and close, where he can reach them.

Almost everyone.

...

Jake Walker is born on the ninth of July at twenty-one seconds past 9:14 AM. His mother Samantha is exhausted after a two-weeks-early delivery, but both she and the baby are strong and steady. Her wife didn’t faint, none of the medical team ever sounded the least worried, and she heard her son’s first shocked wail as he came into the world. Exhausted, but definitely good.

His mom Betty, on the other hand, is an absolute wreck. She’s been anxious the entire pregnancy, despite good news from the doctor at every visit, and she is terrified that the unexpected early arrival of their son means her worst fears are just beginning.

Betty takes slow, calming breaths, focusing on not clamping down too hard on Sam’s hand. She has to stay strong, calm, for her new family. She has to keep her head on straight, in case—in case —

“Your son is absolutely fine, seems he just had a real particular time he wanted to arrive. Here he is.”

Betty opens her eyes to find a delivery nurse beaming at her, proffering a small, swaddled bundle.

“Never seen such a calm baby. Here, he’s been waiting for you.”

Betty looks down into the startlingly clear, mossy green eyes gazing up at her from the squashed, serene little face, and she feels something click into place in the middle of her chest. Samantha leans her head back against her pillow, letting out a long slow breath as she smiles, and Betty’s pulse slowly finds its way back to something like normal.

“We’ve been waiting for you, too, big guy.”

...

Trauma doesn’t heal in a day, not even in heaven. All the shit Dean remembers — all the shit he tried to forget — everything he ever managed to suppress — drives him from his bed at night, leaving him sleepless on his front porch, staring blankly into the night, or tinkering on Baby in the garage, digging into the perfect engine, determined to distract himself from his spiraling thoughts.

Dean has never been an idiot, no matter how many times he played the fool in life. The people he and Sam couldn’t save, the people he let down, none of those deaths are on him. Dean isn’t responsible for the pain and suffering, but he’s haunted by it all the same.

The problem is, haunts don’t go away on their own. Every hunter knows that.

It’s not that he wants forgiveness; how can he be forgiven for something he isn’t responsible for? He needs to see those people, though, see that they’re okay and at peace. He has to make sure everyone is where they should be, safe and at least content. And even if he ultimately isn’t their killer, didn’t want their deaths, would have done anything to prevent them, he still needs them to know...to know everything.

He needs absolution.

And if the person who needs to hear those things the most is MIA, well, they’ve got a history of not saying a lot of things face to face. There’s always prayer, right?

Dean starts by visiting a couple of people he hadn’t been able to save along the way, feeling strangely like someone following a twelve step program. Objectively, (ie, according to the people he talks to), he’s got nothing to apologize for. He did his best; he made tough decisions in situations forced upon him. They don’t blame him in the least, and most are truly and obviously thankful for his intervention.

Their words don’t make much of a dent in the mountain of guilt Dean carries on his shoulders, but it’s a start.

Once or twice, Dean finds himself looking up at the sky, so far from empty, opening his mouth to call out — an action so common on earth it nearly became reflex —but he stops himself both times. He’s not ready for that conversation.

But he needs to talk to someone closer to him, a deeper connection than the monster victims he’s been visiting.

He’s restless, needs to move a little, needs to talk to…

Someone. He needs to talk to someone. But he can’t. Hell, he can’t even say the name.

Pacing the garage turns to a wandering ramble down the road, past Sam and his family’s house, past Mom and Dad’s house (there’s a conversation or fifty that he’s not ready for), until he finds himself in front of what can only be described as a hobbit hole. He shakes his head, not for the first time, the corner of his mouth tilted up as he knocks on the circular front door.

He’s greeted by bright red hair, a surprisingly crushing hug, and one of the brightest smiles Dean has ever seen.

“Hey, Charlie. Can we, uh...You up for a walk? I was hopin we could talk for a while.”

...

Jake grows quickly and steadily, always near the top of all his growth charts but never alarmingly so. He’s bright, quick to anger and quick to laugh, and fiercely loving. He is both his mothers’ boy, always up for a cuddle or a wrestle, and he loves to build block towers and demolish them with equal abandon.

He makes his displeasure with vegetables known early on. On this particular morning, he introduces his strained peas to the kitchen wall with surprising velocity. Betty knows better than to encourage this attitude, so she hides her smile behind calm, controlled admonition as she offers another spoonful.

Jake looks her straight in the eyes, his smile dazzling and laughter bright, and she knows she hasn’t fooled him one bit. She sighs and lets her own smile match his. He won her over the day he was born; there’s not much point trying to fight it now.

“Come on, babe, eat your peas and we’ll see about some of those stewed apples left over from Mommy’s pie filling. Deal?”

She scrunches her nose and wiggles her eyebrows. Jake’s little eyes widen at her expression, and he tries to imitate it before dissolving into giggles. Betty takes the opportunity to poke a spoonful of peas into his open mouth.

She’s not spent much time around kids before this, but Betty swears she’s never seen a baby look so resigned and exasperated in real life. But she’s played her trump card. He’s too young for the crust, but a couple of spoonfuls of smashed up fruit (apple is his favorite), and Jake is guaranteed to eat just about anything she presents.

“Pie?” she asks.

Jake smiles and opens his mouth wider.

...

“SURPRISE!!!”

The last time he was shocked this badly, Sam didn’t let him forget that fucking cat for years. Or ever, really. Seems like everyone he ever knew is stuffed into his living room, barely leaving room for the balloon bouquets and a massive… That’s not a cake, it’s…

That’s the most beautiful apple pie Dean has ever seen in his entire life.

Dean is engulfed by arms, hugging and patting and slapping his back (was that a pinch on his ass?), everyone eager to get their turn with him, wishing him a happy birthday, saying they can’t wait until he opens his presents, it’s so good to see him, he’s looking so rested!

He manages to extract himself from the wellwishers, citing parental obligations, and finally makes his way over to Mary, smiling warmly and offering him a knife and a plate. His eyes flick anxious from his mom to the golden brown circle of perfection before him, but he can’t bring himself to ask. Mary’s smile widens.

“I didn’t lay a hand on it except to take it out of the box. Happy Birthday, Dean.”

Six plates of pie later, Dean reclines on his couch, letting the relaxed atmosphere of the party sink into his bones. The excitement and crowd of early have begun to wind down, leaving a double handful of family, both blood and found, all telling the most embarrassing, terrible Dean stories they can think of.

It’s possible Dean’s never laughed this hard in his entire life.

He heaves a deep sigh of contentment and props his feet ponderously on the coffee table, draping an arm across the back of the couch and surveying the room.

Donna, one of the apparent party conspirators, tosses him a sparkling grin over her shoulder before turning back to a rather animated conversation with Charlie about the length of Dean’s wig at the LARPing battle. Sam and Kevin are recounting Dean’s worst cooking disasters to Garth’s wife, and Bobby is entertaining Mary with Dean’s disastrous attempt to flirt with the pizza delivery girl who delivered to Bobby’s house most weekends when Sam and Dean would stay with him.

If Dean had to describe one perfect day, this would be just about it, down to the flakiness of the pie crust and the amazing collection of horror movies and original vinyls he’s been gifted. Almost every single person he could possibly want present is there, and since he isn’t dwelling on absence today, Dean decides to push his wandering thoughts out of his head and just soak it all in.

Every muscle in his body hums contentedly, and Dean feels strangely warm and peaceful, but excited, all at once. It’s weird, just sitting here and enjoying the moment, not worrying about the next minute or hour or day or even year. He’s full of pie, he’s got great tunes to look forward to, and there’s nothing to worry about.

He’s happy.

Naturally, that’s when the panic sets in. This won’t last; it never does. Happiness can’t last. He learned that a long time ago.

Sure, it’s heaven, but he doesn’t deserve to be here, so something is going to spoil it for him, for everyone. Probably Dean himself, he thinks as his eyes dart from his mom to his dad. Dean always seems to find a way to fuck things up, couldn’t take care of Sam, couldn’t keep himself alive, couldn’t even keep the Empty from—

“Hey, birthday boy.” Jody’s voice somehow reaches Dean through his darkening thoughts, and he comes back to himself in stages, focusing on the warmth of her hands on his shoulders. She stands behind the couch, leaning down to squeeze his shoulders. “Wanna get some air?”

He nods blindly and climbs numbly to his feet. Jody guides him efficiently out the door and points Dean in an arbitrary direction. They walk for what could be moments or hours as Dean plows through the morass in his mind.

“I get it,” Jody finally says.

Dean glances sharply at her.

“I still have random panic attacks sometimes, wondering if Alex is safe at the hospital, if this is going to be the hunt that gets Claire.” Her eyes are fixed on some point in the distance, and he gets the feeling she’s deliberately not meeting his eyes. “I check on Owen every thirty minutes on my bad nights, and I have to lay hands and eyes on Sean to convince myself he’s really there before I can calm down. It always takes me a minute or sixty to make myself remember where we are, where everyone is, and that there isn’t some big or even small bad waiting around the corner or under the bed.”

Dean stuffs his hands in his pockets, stuffing down his automatic reassurances. The first half of his life was spent avoiding conversations like this, and it took him a long time to unlearn the knee-jerk reaction to brush off people’s concerns with some variation of “Everything’s fine.”

Jody, with an awareness born of decades of hunting and parenthood, senses his discomfort. She slows her steps and catches Dean’s elbow, turning him gently to face her.

“That feeling in your gut when the happiness comes, the panic, that knowledge deep, deep down that everything good is bound to turn to shit.” Jody reaches out and wipes a trickle of moisture from Dean’s face.

It’s not raining, he thinks, frowning. Where the hell did that come from?

“You're going to unlearn it. You’re the toughest bastard I’ve ever met, Dean, and you've been through literal hell. If anyone has earned their happiness up here, it’s you. You’re allowed to be happy, and someday you’ll know it.”

Dean would love to reply right now, to contradict Jody. He’d love to remind her of all the bad calls he made, of all the torturing he did in hell, of all the lies he told...

But this knot in his throat is choking him. And still Jody persists.

“I know how goddamned stubborn you are, but you’re not stupid either. We have nothing to forgive you for. Maybe once you’ve talked to everyone on your list, you’ll see that, too. But in the meantime, take a deep breath, give me a hug, and at least say in your head that you’re allowed to enjoy yourself at your own damned birthday party, even if you can’t admit it out loud.”

And if the damp patch on Jody’s shoulder bothers her as they stroll back to Dean’s house to grab a couple of beers, at least she’s tactful enough to not mention it.

...

Jake takes care of his family. He’s a fairly serious, empathetic toddler, quick to kiss other’s ouchies. After receiving his first Elmo bandage, Jake insists on bandaging his stuffed puppy’s tail, his tyrannosaurus rex’s left eye (“He fight with stegosaurus,” Jake solemnly informs Samantha as he presses the adhesive strip in place), and then an old, almost-healed shaving cut on Betty’s left knee.

“Mama better now?” Jake asks, somehow managing to sound strictly professional and absurdly adorable at the same time. He looks up to Betty for approval, and she wonders how she manages to let him touch the ground at all with how much she just wants to hold him all day long.

“Mama so much better now,” she informs him, careful to stay serious. He rewards her with the golden smile that is the highlight of her days before rushing off to find someone else he can fix up.

Both Betty and Samantha marvel in his quickness to share his snacks. They never refuse an offered Cheerio from him, no matter how damp or sticky (though a few of those disappear quickly when Jake’s attention wanders).

The discussion over a first pet is fairly quick and decisive. Everyone agrees the pet must be something fluffy that can be cuddled. Betty vetoes anything smaller than a cantaloupe, citing her clumsiness and tendency to step on things that should never be trod upon. Jake vetoes cats, saying he just doesn’t trust them, and Mommy and Mama share one of their silent conversations before Samantha speaks up.

“A puppy it is, then, Jakey. Let’s go look up some good breeds.”

Their first pet is a rescue named Garth, at Jake’s adamant insistence, though they're still not sure where he learned that name in the first place. Garth is clumsy, awkward, easy-going, and the most spoiled and cared for pet in the neighborhood.

Jake’s little sister Tabitha comes along shortly before his fourth birthday, and he takes to big brotherhood with an authority and self-assurance that delights every stranger the family meets. When she eventually starts walking, Jake is right by her side, guiding each one of her toddling little steps while a beaming Mommy and Mama follow close behind.

No one is even a little surprised when Tabby’s first whole word is “Hake.” She masters the letter j eventually, but continues to refer to his big brother by the name she gave him for most of the rest of their lives. Jake doesn’t even pretend to be annoyed.

“It was just a matter of time,” Samantha says one night, as she and Betty are getting ready for bed one night not long after Tabby has given Jake his new moniker. “You know what I mean?”

Betty, who has known exactly what Sam means since the day she literally tripped over her future wife at university, smiles and turns down the covers on her side of the bed.

“That’s Jake,” she says. They’ve spent hours, discussing their son’s odd, charming quirks long into the night, offering up phrases like “old soul” and “wise,” and eventually realized nothing they said could ever completely encompass the loving little person they somehow managed to bring into the world.

“That’s Jake,” Sam agrees, and turns her version of Jake’s golden smile on her wife. Mischief sparkles in her eyes, and Betty wonders how she ended up with three people in her life that she absolutely cannot win against.

“Ready to get sweaty, Betty?”

Betty groans but can’t hold back her grin. “You are the absolute worst, and that is exactly why I love you.”

…

Sam manages to shock Dean when he insists on a big family Christmas. His extra years on earth apparently helped the younger Winchester warm to the idea of holidays, finally getting to enjoy them with his son as he never did during his own childhood.

Sam doesn’t have to try very hard to talk everyone into celebrating. Things have been calm and serene, more than a little on the uneventful side, and Dean figures it will add some variety to his afterlife. Something to plan, something to look forward to that won’t be crashed by murderous Elder Gods or various other supernatural entities.

Probably.

Dean secretly loves that feeling of finding the perfect present for someone, something he was never really in a position to do back on earth. He takes a deep breath, proactively reminding himself that this is okay, this is allowed, this is good, that everything is not only okay but actually kind of great, really.

He can be happy. He can. He can do this.

The shade of red Sam’s face turns before he finally dissolves into laughter is a thousand percent worth the degradation of actually gifting someone a signed vinyl copy of Celine Dion’s first solo album.

“It’s perfect, Dean. Thanks, man.” Sam pulls his brother into a hug, and his giant paw slapping Dean in the middle of the back literally knocks the panic right out of him. Deans huffs, at a loss for words, and hugs Sam back perhaps just a smidge too forcefully before letting him go.

“You’ll never top Sapphire Barbie for best Christmas present, but this runs a close second.” Sam shakes his head, still grinning as he reads over the back cover of the album while Mary and John look on, varying levels of confusion and amusement on their faces.

“What’s he talking about, Dean?” John asks. He takes a long drink of his whiskey. “Sapphire Barbie? Some kinda code word or something?”

Sam and Dean glance at each other, their shoulders tensing automatically. For a moment, Dean can actually feel the phantom hunger pains transposed over the current fullness of his belly, and he can see a tiny Sam (still way more hair than necessary), huddled despondent and hungry under a shitty, moth-eaten motel blanket, convinced there would be no Christmas.

“Dean, uh...accidentally got me a Barbie for Christmas one year, it was — a, uh — yeah, he wanted to make sure I got a present, so he grabbed it, and…” Sam trails off.

John huffs a confused laugh, and Dean’s hackles rise at the scoff, so like Sam’s and yet so much more...condescending. John rises from the couch and goes to refill his glass. Sam seems content to let the moment pass, but something in Dean’s gut, something latent and ignored since his heavenly ascension, sparks and smolders bitterly.

“How the hell do you ‘accidentally’ get somebody a Barbie?” John asks, still chuckling, and Dean suddenly realizes he’s real fucking tired of biting his tongue.

“I stole the Barbie. Stole a couple of other things, too. A Christmas tree, some decorations, a baton.”

Mary glances between her sons, confused, before turning to John. “Where were you while this happened?”

A parade of emotions march over John’s face: confusion is followed by slow recognition. Guilt makes a quick appearance only to be chased away by dull, ashamed anger.

Dean can practically see John’s mind flashing through the scenario, recalling more about the hunt than his own sons on that cold, nasty Christmas Eve. He knows the instant his dad reverts to default setting of laying the blame on his eldest son. Dean braces himself automatically, his body viscerally reacting to the familiar storm on his father’s face.

Dean has the fleeting thought that at least his dad is drinking from a glass now; ought to hurt a lot less than being hit with a whole bottle.

“You left your brother to go steal from somebody else’s home on Christmas? After what happened with the shtriga?”

Dean knows true anger, near rage, for the first time in heaven, and the bitter wash of it through him is cutting and all too familiar.

“Pretty stupid thing to do, I know, but I wasn’t even twelve yet, so I wasn’t making the wisest of decisions.”

“Not even twelve?” Mary cuts in. “Sam? Does anybody feel like explaining this to me?”

“What the hell were you thinking, Dean, anything could have—”

But Dean had a lifetime of being plowed under by his dad’s inability to take responsibility, has had way more than enough of shouldering the blame for shit he should never have been left with in the first place.

“I was thinking that somebody should get a seven-year-old something for Christmas, should make sure he has enough to eat. Where were you, Dad? What were you thinking? Because you sure as hell weren’t thinking about us.”

That knot starts up in Dean’s throat again, the muscles tightening against the fear that blossoms in his chest, echoed from decades of training. Sam’s hand finds Dean’s arm, and Dean looks to him. Instead of the caution or reproach he’s expecting, though, all Sam simply nods.

“Say it, Dean.”

Dean stands slowly, facing John Winchester with every bit of strength he’s built, every bit of courage he’s earned from a lifetime of terror, and realizes that the angry, bitter man before him is no more a threat to him anymore than Chuck is. And without looking, he knows Sam stands behind him, solid and resolute.

“I wasn’t even twelve. It was Christmas, and you abandoned us. Yeah, I stole Sam a Barbie doll. You know what I got for Christmas that year? The year before? Every fucking year before that for almost as long as I can remember?”

John opens his mouth, even now unable to admit his faults, but Dean barrels on before his dad can get a word out.

“Not a damn thing from you. Not one damn thing. Not presents, not food, not a warm place to sleep or a word of thanks or approval. Not even a fucking phone call to say Merry Goddamn Christmas.” Dean pauses one last time, and it suddenly feels like he’s towering over the man whose shadow always felt too dark, too large, too suffocating; the man whose respect he used to crave more than food and water.

“What about me, Dad? Huh? What about me?”

Dean doesn’t recall leaving his parents’ house, doesn’t remember driving home, but he finds himself on his own front porch, leaning forward in his rocking chair. He takes in a long, deep breath before scrubbing his hands through hair and leaning against the back of the chair.

A breeze rifles the leaves of a nearby tree, ruffling Dean’s hair. He taps his thumb against the arm of the chair and takes a long moment to breathe in the night air.

Dean lets his thoughts roll around for a while. The stars creep slowly across the black, the crickets chirp, and the breeze continues to tickle through Dean’s mussed hair.

“You and I could write the book on shitty dads, am I right, kid?”

He’s not sure why he decides to talk to Jack. Just nice to have someone to talk to, knowing they’re not going to talk right back.

“Could just cut him out. Dunno how that’d work in heaven.” He thinks a moment, then grins to himself. “Not sure Mom’d let me get away with that. Sam would back me up, though.” Dean grins into the somehow not-empty night. “I would be the guy that brings a family feud into paradise, huh?”

Dean takes in the wilderness around him, the empty house at his back, the extra rocking chair for...a visitor, he supposes. He has learned today that heaven, as perfect as it is, still holds anger and bitterness and loneliness, and he figures that’s to be expected.

“You still did good, kid. You and me, we did good even with our shitty old men in and outta our lives. Glad we cut yours out for good. Guess I’ll figure out how to deal with mine eventually. All I’ve got now is time, anyway.”

Dean pushes up slowly, still surprised at the lack of cricks, pops, and aches that accompanied the action his last couple of years on earth.

“Night, Jack,” he says into the wind. He glances over at the empty rocking chair one last time. “If you see him, tell him —just tell him—”

Dean frowns, shakes his head, and turns his back on the night.

…

Jake’s not a crier, not really. There are inevitable tears that come with bad falls, but Jake sheds tears like it’s a physical reaction that he’s getting out of the way so he can move on.

So when Betty goes to change the sheets in her son’s room, only to find him silently crying on the floor, she panics. Sheets flop forgotten to the side as she drops next to his, reaching instinctively for his still-plump cheeks.

“Baby, what’s wrong? Are you hurt? What happened?”

“Nothing happened, Mama, I’m sorry I scared you,” he sniffles, his eyebrows down low on his small forehead.

Jake has never lied in his entire young life, and Betty is torn because he is obviously upset about something, but his face is full of nothing but truth and confusion.

“You have nothing to apologize for, Jakey,” she says, settling on the floor next to him and opening her arms. He instantly climbs into her lap, hooking his own arms around her neck and nuzzling under her chin. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Can you tell me what made you cry?”

“I...I don’t know,” he says, his little voice quiet and heavily confused. “I was playing with Tabby, she was helping me build a tower with my blocks, and then Mommy came to get Tabby for her snack.”

Betty is stumped. Jake has never had any kind of separation anxiety, as far as she can tell. He’s spent nights with both sets of grandparents, even a couple of weekends with aunts, uncles, and cousins, and never shed so much as a single tear.

“You...are you crying because you miss Tabby? She’s right in the next room, baby, you can go with her for snack time, you know that.”

“No, Mama, I —I don’t know why I’m crying. Tabby hugged me, she said she loved me, then she went with Mommy, and I felt...really happy. Like —the happiest ever, and...it was too much happy?”

The last part comes out as a question, and honestly Betty isn’t sure how to answer it.

“Well, baby,” she starts hesitantly, not sure where to lead this particular discussion. “Can you explain what you mean when you say ‘too much happy’?”

He snuggles closer against her chest, his forehead pressing along her jaw. “I dunno. I think...maybe I’m not supposed to be that happy? Is that why the tears came out? Because I got more happy than I’m supposed to get? Was I wrong, Mama?”

Betty breathes slowly, tightening her hold on the little boy in her arms. “You weren’t wrong, Jake. You can be as happy as you want. There’s never too much happy, I promise.”

She feels him shift, and she looks down to meet his clear, green gaze. He studies her carefully, scrutinizing her expression, and she’s reminded why she’s always been so very careful to tell her children the truth, albeit on levels they can understand.

“You pinky promise?”

The proffered pinky is smudged, pudgy, and absolutely perfect. Betty hooks her pinky finger with her son’s, bumping his nose gently with her own.

“Jakey, you have my eternal permission to be as happy as you are capable of feeling. And no one is ever allowed to take that from you. Good?” He nods, and she carefully brushes the tear tracks from his cheeks. “Sometimes feelings are really big, and they’re just a little too big for your body. They have to find a way out, and that’s why the tears come out.”

“Is that why you cry when you watch the kissy movies?” he asks, suddenly smiling. “Your feelings are too big, too?”

“Yup. We’ve got big feelings in this family, Jakey. Better get used to it, kiddo.”

...

More time passes. Dean walks, he talks, he goes through the motions. He heals a little with every conversation, every time he reaches out, and even though some of the wounds feel as fresh as the day he got them, eventually all that’s left are faint scars. He’d never willingly erase the scars, anyway. He earned them, and he’ll be damned if something like a little death and talk therapy could just wipe them away.

Gradually — so gradually Dean doesn’t realize it until Donna makes a comment one night after their regular poker game — Dean learns to not only let his guard down but drop it entirely. He’s shocked to realize the loss of his emotional armor doesn’t even bother him.

Dean works on Baby, drinks with Bobby, teaches Mary how to make an apple pie from scratch, and even manages to have a couple of honest, semi-civil conversations with his father. They don’t exactly reach Andy and Opie levels of father-son bonding, but John does eventually manage to grudgingly admit he fucked up some (a lot). Dean supposes anyone can make progress in heaven if they try hard enough.

He’s talked to everyone he can think of, settled scores, smoothed ruffles, filled himself to bursting with absolution. Dean is so absolved he thinks he might punch the next person who pats him on the back and tells him how much good he’s done for the world.

And still, he comes home every night to that extra rocking chair.

He waits now, waits while he talks with Sam, waits while he walks through the woods, waits while he changes Baby’s oil. He can’t shake the feeling that something is coming. He can feel it around himself, like a suit of armor or a second skin. Nothing terrible, nothing ominous, but something. Which is weird because nothing ever seems to happen in heaven, not really.

Could be he’s just bored, but Dean doesn’t think that’s it. Not entirely.

He talks to Jack nightly now. It’s a habit, something to help Dean talk through and untangle his thoughts into something he can understand. He looks forward to their talks, being able to get his feelings out without being either validated or rebuffed. Just letting some steam off.

He’s done it for so long that he can barely remember the night he started. Dean knows Jack can hear him, but the kid’s been true to his word, stayed hands off and radio silent. He lets mortals deal with their own issues, keeping himself and the supernatural world well away. Even the angels leave people alone in heaven.

Especially the angels, Dean grudgingly admits to himself, late one night after leaving Sam’s house. Instead of going home to that extra rocking chair, he drives Baby slowly, aimlessly, yet somehow ends up back on that same bridge where he met up Sam all those years ago.

He parks right at the end (no traffic in heaven) and strolls out to the middle, scuffing his boots and sending little puffs of dust in the air. His hands are stuffed deep in his pockets, out of habit more than anything else, and he lifts his gaze from the ground up to the full moon in the sky.

“Hey, kid,” he says softly. “Hope it’s goin good for you.Things are pretty good here. I know you know, you’re everywhere and all that,” Dean waves his hand vaguely, then continues, “Just wanted to let you know, I guess. I didn’t tell you enough, but we—I —really appreciated you. Appreciate you. You, uh...you did real good, kid. Then and now.” He pauses, then takes a breath, standing straight and letting all pretense go.“Please tell Cas...he did good, and...I miss him. And I know you’re all taking the hands-off approach, but —I dunno, maybe...he could —stop by? Or…”

The silence around Dean is heavy, comforting like a thick blanket.

Or a tan trenchcoat, he thinks.

“Jack —“

He cuts himself off, though. He spent all this time in heaven working through rivers of bullshit, wearing down mountains of lies and self-loathing until he can finally be honest and open with everyone. And if he’s going to be honest with himself tonight, Jack isn’t who he needs to talk to.

“Sorry kid, I gotta put you on hold.”

Purgatory flashes before his eyes, that sense of loss and being lost, the desperation and certainty that he’d never see his best friend again.

I can’t do this anymore, he thinks. I can’t pretend anymore. And I’m done lying to myself.

“Cas. Castiel. I hope you can hear me. I miss you. I don’t know where you are. Bobby said you were here, that you helped remake this place into something pretty damned awesome, but I never see you. I can feel you sometimes, can tell some things are up here just because you put ‘em there. Someone will tell a story, and I swear I can feel you standing right beside me, can almost hear you frowning and not understanding the joke. I…”

He knows there’s something left —knows he hasn’t found the right words yet. He has no idea what that right thing is, or even what he’s still waiting for, but he figures if he just barrels on, it’ll come to him.

“There was too much in the way, back on earth, in Purgatory. Too much always coming after us, trying to kill us or worse. I got in my own damned way, never knew what to say or how to say it. Didn’t think I deserved...I should’ve…”

He’s not sure what’s more bizarre, that he’s praying to someone who probably won’t respond — probably can’t even hear him — or that he’s doing so in a place wildly opposite from that last time he prayed like this.

Dean isn’t sure how he keeps ending up in this situation, but here he is, gasping out his feelings to the night air, barely able to squeeze the words past that perpetual knot in his throat.

“It’s a lot clearer up here, more room to breathe and think. This heaven you and Jack made...it’s great. Hell, it’s damn near perfect. But there’s no you. And I just can’t see my heaven as right without you. I can’t...I can’t take my forever if you’re not in it.”

A wispy cloud, silver in the moonlight, drifts across an otherwise flawless sky. Dean stares upwards for several minutes, wondering if Cas can see the same stars tonight, wherever he is.

“Maybe...I don’t know if you can come back. Or if you even left. I don’t know how any of it works.”

He’s on the cusp. He can almost taste the next step.

Dean’s at a loss, though. He could be brave: he could say everything he should’ve said in that last moment, everything he should have told Cas.

Or he could take the comfortable path, revert to being a dick and tell Cas exactly how he feels about all this silent treatment, about the no-show in heaven or not telling him about his deal with the Empty until it was too late, about waiting until the last second so Dean would have no time—

Or he could do both.

Both is good.

Metal railings squeak under Dean’s punishing grip. He’s not sure when he grabbed hold of the bridge itself, but right now he needs all the support he can get.

“You left me! You should have told me, given me a chance. Another chance, just one more. I’m sorry, Cas, I knew but I didn’t. I— I should’ve told you, should’ve held you, I could have—“

The tears flow unimpeded, the air squeezed from his lungs in convulsive gasps, but Dean can’t stop now.

“I should have told you everything I felt, every day. I should have trusted you more, and I’m so sorry. You were always family, you were always there for me when I needed you. We both fucked up so many times, lost so much time together. I was so angry at you, at me, at everyone and everything, and I let it get in the way.”

The silence around him is maddening. Here he is, ripping his guts out in the middle of the bridge, and all he gets back is crickets and evening breezes. Dean shoves off the railing, too frantic to stay still.

“Gimme something, Cas, anything! I’m pouring my heart out! I fucked up, and I’m sorry, and I swear I’m gonna do better, but you’ve gotta give me the chance! Just...just give me some sort of answer, please? Let me know you’re there!”

The silence persists.

Just as quickly as Dean’s rage crescendos, it fizzles suddenly. He drops to the ground, back and head slamming hard against the side of the bridge as he lets out a roar of helpless rage. His fists grip his hair, teeth grinding against the wave of helplessness that threatens to overwhelm him.

“I missed my chance, I waited too long, I should’ve said— I should have—“

And then it comes to him.

His hands draw down from his hair, scrubbing his face before steepling his fingers in front of his mouth. He can’t believe it’s taken him this long to realize.

“I’m an idiot.” His voice is barely audible, even to his own ears, but he has no doubt his words will reach their intended destination. “This place you built, you and Jack, it’s as good as it gets. I deserve it, I earned it. I got my family, I got the easy life for a while. I got my family. I had my rest. There’s only one thing left in the universe I need, only one person I want.”

Dean stands, dusting himself off and turning his face back up to the stars.

“I’m ready, Cas. I— I love you. And I’m ready for the next thing. Whatever that is. However that is. As long as—”

One last pause.

“As long as you’re there, that’s all I need.”

...

The inevitable day of separation comes: Jake’s first day of kindergarten. Samantha is proud of her guardian warrior, knows he’s going to succeed at everything he puts his little bullheaded mind to. Betty hopes very hard that he won’t be too lonely without Tabitha there with him. Tabitha only knows that Jake’s finger tastes good and makes her gums feel better when she chews on it.

Jake, as always, approaches this monumental step with aplomb and logic.

“I’ll give it a shot,” he says casually as his little sister gnaws on his thumb. “An’ if I don’t like it, I’ll just stay here and take care of Tabby. You an’ Mommy can go to work, then, ‘kay, Mama? I can make nut butter n’ jelly sammiches. But I’ll try it out.”

...

School isn’t so bad, Jake decides on his second day. His teacher Mrs. Harris seems to know what she’s doing (she already knows who she can trust with scissors and glue), and the other kids are nice enough. There’s different toys (“learning tools”, Mrs. Harris calls them), so that’s interesting enough, but—

Something is missing.

“Can you tell me what you mean, Jakey?” Betty asks at dinner that night. “Are there supplies you need? We got everything on the list.” She wipes a smear of sweet potato off Tabitha’s face before looking back to her son. His mouth is turned down in a frown of concentration, like he’s trying to remember something.

“I don’t need anything, Mama, just...someone. I need someone. My friend hasn’t come to school yet.”

“It takes time to make friends, baby,” Samantha says. “It’s only the second day of school. Have you tried asking anyone to play yet?”

“Yeah, and they’re fun and all, but they aren’t my friend. My friend isn’t here yet,” Jake says. Then his frown vanishes with the sudden mood change of a five-year-old, and he turns beseeching eyes on Betty, aiming unerringly at the softer target. “I finished my green beans. That means dessert now, right, Mama?”

Jake decides on the third day that the best place to wait for his friend (he just knows he’s going to show up any day now) is the playground.

“My friend likes the playground,” he murmurs. “That’s good, I like the playground, too.” He eats his lunch slowly, watching the other kids wolf down their food so they can have extra playtime. He’s barely finished his peanut butter and jelly sandwich, though, when he’s distracted by movement on the other side of the play yard. The door to the school opens and the school secretary steps out. Then she turns and gently pulls someone out from behind her.

A small boy stands in the doorway, white shirt tucked neatly into black slacks. His blue tie is a little loose, as if he’s been tugging on it, and his tan jacket is a little too big, hanging loosely around his small frame. His hair looks like someone was in too much of a rush to comb it properly. He clutches a pink piece of paper in one hand and, in the other, a backpack inexplicably decorated with flying, winged slices of pizza.

“Late drop-off, parent had to run,” the secretary tells Mrs. Harris before tiptoeing out of the room.

With an anxious glance at the other children, the boy scuttles forward and immediately trips over his own untied shoelaces.

Jake is at the little boy’s side before anyone else can react, kneeling down to check on him. The prone child is too shocked to cry, both by the fall and by the sudden appearance of this unknown factor. Jake checks him over, then nudges him until he sits up.

“You gotta keep ‘em double tied,” Jake says seriously. “Or else that’ll happen all the time.” Without waiting for an answer, Jake sets about the laborious task of looping each set of laces in turn, rabbits chasing each other around trees and down holes until the shoes are secure.

Jake climbs to his feet and reaches down, gripping the other boy’s shoulders and helping him stand. A dark smear of jelly stains the shoulder of the coat in the shape of a smudged purple handprint.

“Thank...thank you,” the smaller boys whispers. He lifts his eyes hesitantly, and clear blue meets olive green for the first time. “I’m Chris.”

“I’m Jake.” He thinks for a long moment, frowning. Something is settling in his chest, something big and permanent and scary; at first he thinks it’s too much.

Then he thinks back to what Mama told him: you can be as happy as you want.

He smiles at Chris. “You’re with me. You’re the one I was waiting for.”

Hope and just a bit of delight flicker across Chris’s eager face.

“I am? You mean it?”

Jake nods and grabs his new friend’s hand. “Yep. Now you’re here, that’s all I need. And nobody's allowed to take you from me, Mama said so. C’mon, let’s play cars.”

59 notes · View notes

iamthehousethatfloats · 4 years

Text

This is absolute crack, but apparently it’s Scrooge’s birthday today (in some random canon - I don’t even know) so I bashed this out because why not?

It’s likely riddled with errors but ah well. It’s only his birthday for 10 more minutes in England so here, have it!

🎉🎉🎉

Scrooge McDuck had finally reached the end of a long old 8th of July. His board meetings were done, business deals concluded, and best of all, he’d made it through a whole working day without any one wishing him a ridiculous -

‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY UNCLE SCROOGE!’

Ah, so close.

His family burst into his office, the boys and Webby clutching balloons and streamers, Della and Donald grinning as they swapped his top hat for a party hat to match their own.

‘Ahhh you thought we forgot!’ Dewey cheered, mistaking the disgruntled expression on his uncle’s face for stunned.

‘We were gonna wait until you came home to surprise you but then we figured you’d be expecting that so it wouldn’t be a surprise at all,’ Huey explained.

‘So we brought the surprise to you instead!’ Webby cheered, twirling around in a mess of colourful streamers and glitter.

‘Yes, yes,’ Scrooge rolled his eyes. ‘Colour me surprised.’

‘You haven’t even seen the best part yet,’ Della grinned. ‘LP! Bring in the cake!’

On cue, Launchpad kicked open the door of Scrooge’s office and wheeled in an absolutely enormous cake, taller even than him. The tiers wobbled precariously in rhythm with LP’s warbling delivery. The kids, Donald and Della all joined in, building to the final line with relish.

‘Happy biiiiirthdaaaaay, Uncle Scroo-ooge, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TOOOO YOOOOOUU!’

Scrooge stuck a finger in his ear to check his ear drum was still in tact - he was seated next to Donald after all. When he extracted the digit, satisfied everything was in working order, he noticed the ominous silence and frowned.

Something odd was going on. Della and Launchpad were staring between each other and the cake, wide eyed and grinning slightly manically. Donald was starting to sweat. The kids were all glancing at each other, shifting awkwardly.

‘Alright, what joke am I missing?’

‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY MR MCDEEEEE,’ Launchpad began to sing again, even louder than the first time. ‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!’

‘Yes, thank you Launchpad,’ Scrooge said tersely. ‘I heard you the first time.’

‘TO YOUUUUUU!’ Launchpad sang again, slightly desperately. Donald edged closes and gave the cake an experimental prod. Nothing happened. He looked back at Della nervously.

‘Oh, this is not good.’ Della said.

‘Oh no, it’s every worst nightmare come at once!’ Launchpad cried. ‘We baked Mrs McDee alive!’

‘Mrs?’ Scrooge spluttered.

‘Calm down LP, the cake was already baked when Goldie got in, at the very least we suffocated her in frosting.’ Della reasoned.

‘Not a bad way to go,’ Donald remarked, while Launchpad looked set to dive in head first.

‘Let me make sure I have this right,’ Scrooge interjected, and all eyes turned to him. ‘You brought that hellacious hooligan into the Money Bin, and left her unattended in close proximity to my entire fortune - with a diversion, no less?’

‘We didn’t leave her unattended, she was with LP... oh, yeah. Okay.’ Della realised their error as she spoke. The man in question was currently half way through escalating a hollow birthday cake in an attempt to rescue a woman who definitely was not there. ‘She said she wanted to surprise you!’ Della objected.

Scrooge rolled his eyes. ‘Aye. Well, that she did.’

‘Uh, guys?’ Louie, who had been quiet so far, had trundled to the far side of the cake for a closer look. He pointed to a Goldie O’Gilt shaped hole in the side of the cake, directly opposite the Launchpad shaped hole in the other side. ‘Looks like we’ve been conned.’ Louie said helpfully, with a slight grin. He had to admire a master at work.

Scrooge immediately slammed his hand down on the security button at the side of his desk, sending sirens wailing and red lights flashing. ‘This is a security breach, the Bin has been compromised,’ he said into the intercom. ‘All operations will shut down until further notice. NO ONE is to come in or out until the culprit has been apprehended.’

As security personnel rallied, shutting down the bin floor by floor and searching fruitlessly for the thief, the Duck family inflicted their merriment upon their miserly uncle anyway, whether he wanted it or not. Almost an hour later, there was still nothing to report, and so Scrooge begrudgingly agreed to open up the Bin and let everyone go home for the day.

Well, almost everyone.

‘Right you lot,’ he said, fixing his family with a stern glare. ‘It’s Binventory for the lot of ye.’

‘Binventory!’ Della and Donald chorused in dismay, as the kids and Launchpad all groaned.

‘Aye, and a detailed one at that. You brought that diabolical deviant in here, and you’ll be the ones to find out what she’s stolen. I want every piece of gold in that Bin catalogued - and make sure what you count is genuine too. That mendacious minx is not above the old switcheroo or two.’

‘Yes Uncle Scrooge,’ the resigned sighs and grumbles didn’t bother him one bit as he marched his family out of his office and down to the Money Bin, ready for a long night of his very favourite thing; counting up his fortune. Perhaps he would be considering this as a good birthday after all.

After an hour or so, he left them to it, set on returning to his office to watch another sweep of the security cameras to catch a glimpse of Goldie’s retreating figure in the corner of a frame. He told himself it was because it would help him figure out what it was that she had taken, it was nothing to do with him wanting to see her or anything. Nope, nothing like that at all.

He trudged wearily up the steps to his office, and he knew something was wrong when he saw the lights were off. He was certain he’d left them on - he knew he was coming back after all. He gripped his cane slightly tighter, before stepping through the door and reaching for the switch, flooding the room with warm golden light.

A large piece of cake sat untouched on his desk, two small forks beside it on the plate. In his chair, lounging about like she owned the place, was Goldie O’Gilt. His heart skipped a little in his chest.

‘Oh no, you caught me,’ her eyes sparkled mischievously as she licked frosting off her fingers. ‘I was trying so hard to hide.’

Scrooge swallowed heavily, taking a measured breath before closing the door behind him.

‘I thought you’d be long gone by now,’ he commented casually.

Goldie grinned. ‘And miss blowing out your candles? Please, Scrooge. It’s like you don’t know me at all.’

Scrooge rolled his eyes, glancing at the security screens beside his desk. Judging by their progress in the Bin, he had at least another hour until his family would come looking for him.

‘What did you steal?’ He quizzed her sharply.

‘Your heart,’ she shot back, with a wink. She licked another finger clean of frosting.

‘You’ve got that all over your face, you know.’ Scrooge told her, unable to ignore the fire kindling in his belly as her grin turned even more wolffish.

‘Why don’t you come over here and have a taste? It’s your cake after all.’

Scrooge paused... for about half a second. Just long enough to click the lock of his office door closed behind him. He crossed the room in three paces, and he had her in his arms before she could even open her mouth to make another retort. It wasn’t long before they were both covered in cake.

‘Happy birthday, Moneybags.’

As it turned out, it was a very happy birthday indeed.

#scrooge mcduck #ducktales #goldie o’gilt #della duck #donald duck #louie duck #huey duck #dewey duck #webby vanderquack #duck fiction #drabble

99 notes · View notes

blazerina · 4 years

Text

Surprise (Ethan x MC)

Word Count: 4,962 (omg that’s a lot)

Author’s Note: Okay so this is my “mature Ethan & Allie AU” where they’re already married and have been together for a little while. It eludes to some of my other Ethan & Allie stories a little bit and sets the scene for another more angsty Ethan & Allie story I plan to write soon. I had no idea how to end this so I’m sorry if the ending stinks. Hope this brings some joy to you as you read it – thank you to all of you for your support and encouragement regarding my stories.

**This story is dedicated to @noboundariesplease who became my 800th follower a few weeks ago!!**

@parkerattano @justanotherrookie @mrswalkerwritesagain – thanks for being my fandom besties!

A few of you asked to be tagged when I posted this story so here you go:

@unusualvisionsblog @itstaygs @ethandaddyramsey @x-kyne-x @flyawayboo

Some of you liked my message about this story coming soon so I thought I’d tag you too – hope that’s okay: @queencarb @schnitzelbutterfinger @liam-kostas-wife @keepcreative @lion-ess24 @lifeof-liv @rookieinbflat @imonlyalittledeadinside @desmaranj @havenofearoficecoldbeer

Love and hugs peace to all of you!! xoxo

Ding dong.

The echo of the doorbell rang out among the small, empty foyer of the two-story home that Ethan and Allie shared, just outside of Boston. Allie was in the master bathroom, her hair in large rollers, putting the finishing touches on her makeup; mascara wand in hand.

Waiting a moment to hear if Ethan opened the door, Allie let out a sigh and rested her hand on the edge of the counter in exasperation.

“Ethan? You gonna get that?!” She hollered.

The doorbell rang again at the same moment Allie went back to applying her mascara.

“Ethan!” She yelled again, tightening the belt on her robe.

Ethan’s head popped into view behind her in the mirror. Leaning in from the doorway with the phone glued to his ear, he silently mouthed the words I’m on the phone.

Rolling her eyes, Allie put the mascara down and went quickly to the door. A delivery man was standing on the doorstep, holding a basket full of cookies, with several colorful balloons attached.

After signing for the package and offering her thanks, Allie went immediately to the kitchen. Ethan was sitting at the table, still on the phone, looking out the window into their backyard.

“For you…” Allie smiled, placing the basket in front of him as he turned around.

He rolled his eyes and looked for a card. After reading it quickly, he tossed it aside, rolling his eyes again. Allie could hear the voice on the other end of the phone. This person was clearly frazzled, rambling on and talking at a rapid pace.

“I will not apologize for your lack of planning, Douglas. I have already been waiting two days beyond the deadline I originally gave you…you’re testing my patience and I already don’t have much…”

While Ethan continued on the phone, Allie poured him a glass of iced tea and set it down on the table in front of him, giving him a soft kiss on the cheek.

Ethan reached for her hand and kissed the back of it silently, looking up at her through his glasses with tired eyes.

Allie smiled and started walking backwards. Making sure she had Ethan’s attention, she mimed at her wrist, tapping it as if a watch was there.

“We need to go soon…” she reminded him, quietly.

Ethan nodded and then shooed her out of the room as his conversation increased his frustration.

“And I’m telling you that I will not have a diagnosis until I get those results…”

Allie and Ethan had been married almost 16 years now. Their relationship had weathered many storms at this point, but their connection to one another had never been stronger or deeper. Looking at the pictures in frames throughout their house one could see how their own love and affection for one another had grown. In the pictures from their first days of being together, their eyes sparkled and glistened. Photos from their small and intimate wedding ceremony showed true joy and happiness in their smiles. As the years wore on, they included other family in their pictures, pictures of Jenner alone in a field of wildflowers, and another new puppy, Chief. Nieces and nephews and cousins galore adorned the walls and shelves of their home. In each more recent picture of their life, their eyes were just as sparkling, smiles just as happy, but their faces older and wiser, and maybe a little more tired.

The couple had been through a lot together; it seemed as though from day one they would have more than their fair share of trials and tribulations. But through it all they managed to come out stronger with more love, devotion and appreciation for one another than either of them thought possible.

Allie was keeping an eye on the time, her stomach a bundle of nerves. She was working hard to ensure her lipstick looked just right, while also checking every other little detail of her makeup in the mirror.

Tonight need to be as close to perfect as possible.

Downstairs, Ethan furiously ended his call and slammed his phone down on the table with more force than he intended. He glanced quickly at the ridiculous basket and balloons, muttered a curse word under his breath and checked the time on the wall clock in the kitchen. He quickly realized he was running late and took the stairs two at a time to get changed.

Allie heard him enter their walk-in closet and called out to him.

“All done with that phone call?”

“I am.” Ethan responded, scanning his suit jackets for the one he had in mind.

“I cannot believe you made me go to the door in my robe with my hair in these curlers!” She teased, securing an earring in place.

“You can’t honestly believe that I was going to fall for that…” Ethan scoffed, talking to her through the closet as he began to change.

“Fall for what?” Allie asked, spraying perfume on her wrists and neck.

“Allie…” His tone came across as though he was admonishing her.

“I learned my lesson! I promised you that I would never, ever in the rest of our time together, try to surprise you with anything for your birthday ever again.”

“Well forgive me for being worried that someone dressed as a teddy bear or something equally as cliché and silly, was going to jump out from behind the bushes with a song and some chocolate. You’re very unpredictable, you know.”

“And you love it.” Allie retorted.

A few moments of silence passed between the two of them as Allie made her way to the closet, too. They danced around each other a few times, Ethan reaching here to grab a tie, Allie wandering over to her shoe selection, trying to decide which ones she wanted to wear.

Her eyes scanned the footwear choices before her and she mentally calculated the pros and cons of each, tilting her head in an analytical fashion, her eyes squinting as she thought to herself.

“You still have the curlers in?” Ethan questioned, almost completely dressed now, with the exception of his tie and jacket.

“I told you, I take them out at the very…last…second…” Allie reached for a pair of shoes as Ethan stopped her.

“Wear those instead…” He nodded in the direction of one shelf above the pair Allie was going for.

“Those are old!” She insisted. “You only like these because I was wearing them two years ago on our anniversary when we went to the opera and ate at the one place with the great steak and scotch – I can’t remember the name but you loved it…”

“So what if I did? It was a lovely evening and those shoes bring back good memories.”

“Maybe for you…” Allie’s eyes grew wide as she remembered the blisters they created on the heels of her feet.

She grabbed them anyway and gave him a sly grin.

“The things we do for love.”

After laying out her dress and shoes, she returned to the bathroom and started taking her hair down. Ethan was now sitting on the end of the bed, putting his shoes on, but stopped to watch her, mesmerized by her beauty.

He could only see her reflection in the mirror from the angle at which the bed was to the entrance of their master-bath, but he still couldn’t stop his own breath from catching in the back of his throat. Not a day passed when he didn’t wake up and consider himself the luckiest man on the planet.

Sure, time had weathered them both in certain ways – physically they both had more wrinkles and gray hair; but emotionally they had grown, developed and matured in their desire for one another and their need to rely on each other through all that life had thrown their way.

Ethan was not looking forward to the dinner they were attending tonight. Allie was the magnetic one – the woman who could make the cashier at the grocery store feel like she had known her forever. Allie was the one everyone wanted to be friends with and the so-called friends the couple did have, were only tolerant of Ethan. They were really friends with her, and he knew it. She had so much that he didn’t. He was in awe of her and admired her more than she was aware.

Allie’s long reddish-brown hair tinted now with a few streaks of gray, fell from each roller, across her shoulders and down her back. The soft tendrils were exactly the way she hoped they’d be – not too tight but not too loose. She was actually pleased with the way her look was coming together tonight. She then reminded herself that she needed to hurry.

Ethan finished putting his shoes on and straightened himself up.

“All right, I think this is as good as I’m going to get so I’ll wait downstair—”

“Wait – could you help me with my dress please?” Allie pleaded, exiting the bathroom and stepping into the closet, then emerging again with the dress already on.

She swooped her hair to one side and turned around in front of Ethan, a silent request for him to zip up the garment.

He could smell her perfume. The same perfume she had been waring for years. The scent that would forever and always remind him of her.

Without saying a word, he slowly closed the dress, his rough calloused fingers grazing across her smooth, silky skin. He lightly kissed the exposed side of her neck while running his hands up and down both of her arms. She turned around to face him and smiled.

“Please, darling. Promise me. Promise me tonight is just a dinner, our closest friends, a simple night out and NOT a birthday celebration.” His tone was soft but serious.

“You are really worried about this aren’t you?” Allie arched an eyebrow moving closer to him, her lips almost touching his.

“Allie.” Ethan sighed, eyes closing briefly. “I just don’t like surprises. My birthday is on a Tuesday which won’t be ‘fun enough’ for you, so I’m just worried you’re trying to plan something and make it amazing. You always have good intentions, but I never react appropriately and then I feel guilty and people are watching…”

She interrupted his stream-of-consciousness speech with her lips on his. It took him a moment to kiss her back, but he quickly melted into her touch on instinct.

“I promise I have not planned a birthday-related surprise for tonight. Relax.”

He let out a shaky breath and nodded.

“Okay then.”

“Now go get in the car, I have to reapply my lipstick already, thanks to you.” She swatted his behind as he walked away and he chuckled to himself, slightly relieved.

“This is where we’re eating?” Ethan questioned as valet circled the car and helped Allie out of the vehicle.

“Dr. Ramsey, Dr. Valentine – we’ve been waiting for you. Right this way.” An older woman with gentle eyes and white hair led the couple through the lobby of a very fancy hotel.

Ethan felt like everyone was watching them, but he stayed focused on trying to calm his own nerves. He wanted to trust Allie and not be paranoid about some crazy birthday plan, but he couldn’t help himself.

Allie held his hand and smiled at everyone that passed by. Her heart was beating fast too. Ethan could feel the pulse in her wrist as he clutched onto her for dear life.

“Ethan…” She whispered, “Are you okay?”

He didn’t respond, his gaze fixed ahead of him, following the woman to a huge ballroom full of banquet tables. When the doors opened Ethan felt light-headed. Not one seat was empty.

Music was playing and there was a stage set up at the front of the room. The room was beautifully decorated and whoever planned whatever event Ethan found himself attending, obviously spared no expense. People had just begun to eat their plated dinners. It seemed as though a few less people paid attention to him now that he was safely inside the room.

His emotions were a mixture of relief and confusion.

Allie’s voice coaxed him out of his own thoughts.

“See?! Told ya. Nothing birthday related!” She kept hold of his hand and led him to a table closer to the front, where two seats had clearly been reserved for them.

Naveen and Harper were already at the table along with the chairman of Edenbrook’s Board of Director’s and the President of the hospital.

“I was wondering how late you’d be tonight, Ethan. The table was taking bets before you walked in with this lovely young woman on your arm. Does Allie know?”

Ethan pulled the chair out for Allie and relaxed a little more, now that he was around familiar faces. He still didn’t quite have any idea what was going on.

“Ha-ha.” Allie chimed in sarcastically, leaning over to Naveen and kissing him on the cheek.

“Lovely to see you all this evening – thank you for coming.” She added.

“No, my dear, thank YOU for making this event possible.” The chairman spoke up, nodding towards Ethan.

“If it weren’t for Dr. Valentine, we’d only see Ramsey here walking the halls of the hospital day and night. He’d have no real life to speak of!” Naveen teased.

As the table made feeble attempts at small talk with one another, people would come up to Ethan every so often and shake his hand or clap him on the back, telling him how good it was to see him here or offering their most sincere congratulations. Ethan tried his best to be polite but was quite frankly starting to get a little annoyed. He was hungry and irritable and already wanted to be left alone.

He always felt so awkward and out of place at these things. He never knew what to say or precisely how to act. Charming people and making idle conversation with them was not his strong suit. It was entirely out of his comfort zone. And what was worse, tonight, he clearly was already supposed to know what event he was attending or at the very least what was going on, however, he really had no clue.

Obviously there was no way that the Dr. Ethan Ramsey was about to admit to a table full of his medical peers, that he did not know what was happening or exactly what they were gathered together to celebrate tonight. To appear as though he had no answers was the worse possible fate he could imagine.

“Allie…” he whispered sweetly into her ear, placing his hand on her upper thigh, below the table.

“What exactly is going on? Help me out here…”

“Allie! I feel as though it has been forever since I’ve seen you!” Harper gushed, clearly, she had already had a few drinks and was feeling quite conversational.

“It has been!” Allie engaged with her but then quickly responded to Ethan between talking with Harper and the rest of the table.

“You’ll see.” She pecked him quickly on the lips leaving him stunned and puzzled. He could not for the life of him figure out what any of this had to do with him.

Allie knew he’d never ask anyone else at the table what was going on. She had him right where she wanted him. He knew it too and he hated her for it.

As hard as he tried not to get mad, he felt anger rising in his chest. He always struggled when he didn’t feel in control. When two plus two didn’t add up to be four, he had a very difficult time adjusting. Everyone was being nice to him, everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves.

Was this some kind of party?

Ethan took a few shallow breaths and pushed through, talking to those around him and grasping for Allie every chance he got, in a respectful and not attention-seeking way. Little touches here and there left her connected to him. She was what kept him grounded and he needed her desperately tonight.

He was continuing to get old. He saw it in the mirror as it reflected his own face every single day. This birthday coming up was just another reminder of how much life had been lived. The depth of the few relationships he had and the stark reminder of what he lacked, always hit him square on, around this time of year. Birthdays were not and never would be his favorite.

Dramatically, he began thinking of how betrayed he felt by Allie. She had duped him once again and led him on. How could she promise him she hadn’t done anything when clearly this whole thing had been executed flawlessly? She was too smart. She knew he wouldn’t blow up on her here, in front of people.

He then began looking around at the decorations, the food, the stage, this lavish hotel he’d only been in once before, and the dollar signs began adding up in his mind. Now suddenly worried about how much she had spent on this over-the-top soiree, he needed to excuse himself and go get some air.

He slowly released his grasp on Allie’s hand, and sheepishly removed himself from the table.

“Ethan, no. Sit down. You can’t…you can’t leave right now.” Allie smiled as she instructed him, but her tone was serious.

“Alexandra, what in God’s name is going on? This is ridiculous that I cannot even…” Ethan was interrupted by a man on stage and he quickly took his seat, not wanting to make a scene.

Through clenched teeth, he leaned over to Allie once again.

“You promised me.” He hissed, beginning to seethe with anger. He thought after all this time she would know him better than this.

“Is a slideshow of my life going to start playing soon? Clowns and confetti coming through in a second? All these people?! Allie, come on!”

“Hush.” She put a finger to his lips, remaining calm. “Pay attention.”

“…it is with that in mind that we take time tonight to pay honor to a man who really needs no introduction…”

“Is that the Governor of Massachusetts?” Ethan gawked. “You got the governor…”

“Put these on.” Allie slid his glasses over to him with a smile. “Yes, that’s the governor. Now hush and listen.”

Ethan was totally put out at this point, but put his glasses on and sat back in his chair. He was frustrated. His leg was bobbing up and down unconsciously. He had nervous energy. He wanted to leave. He wanted to get up and run out the door. He mentally noted the exits in the room. How fast could he make it? He was a little sore from his run earlier this morning but with this much adrenaline, surely, he could…

“Leading the nationally renowned diagnostics team at Edenbrook hospital has been the bulk of his responsibility for the last 25 years. Under his leadership, this team has brought great prestige and esteem to Edenbrook, to Boston and to the Commonwealth of Massachusetts. Not to mention the incredible notoriety and hundreds of millions of dollars of revenue that we have all benefitted from, due to his excellent work.”

Ethan paused, sitting up straighter, starting to put the pieces together.

“His colleagues from across the country have gathered here tonight to celebrate his contributions to the medical field, but tonight I want to celebrate his contributions to our state and to our community. There will be time for more accolades as the evening continues but first, and foremost, let us celebrate him and hear what he has to say.”

Allie squeezed his hand again, beaming with pride.

“Ladies and gentlemen, it is my distinct honor, pleasure and privilege to be able to introduce you to our guest of honor tonight. Please join me in congratulating this year’s recipient of the Massachusetts Medical Society Lifetime Achievement Award, Dr. Ethan Ramsey of Edenbrook Hospital.

The room erupted in applause with some people whooping and hollering. Immediately everyone sprang to their feet, even Ethan. For a moment he wasn’t sure if he had to go on stage or not, but it became clear that there was an award he needed to accept and most likely a speech that would been expected.

Stunned and feeling as though he was floating on air, he quickly made his way up to the stage, hoping no one could see that his hands were shaking a bit. He shook hands with the governor, took his award in both hands and immediately looked out among the crowd.

Ethan tried to scan the faces, wanting to soak in this moment – he was stunned and still unsure if he was really awake. While he tried to focus on the faces and really see who it was who had come out to support him, his gaze was instantly drawn to one and only one person in the room.

Allie wiped tears away from her eyes quickly, wanting to keep her emotions at bay. The only thing she felt in this moment was immense pride, and maybe a little bit of satisfaction in pulling this over on her beloved. Standing and still applauding, she looked up at him in awe. Awe that he was hers. Not that his accomplishments and professional achievements weren’t worthy – but the only thing he was to her in that moment was Ethan. Her husband. The love of her life.

“Please.” Ethan cleared his throat as he spoke into the microphone, both his heart and mind racing.

“This is quite enough, please sit.” He instructed a little more forcefully.

Allie led the group in finding their seats as a hush fell over the crowd, waiting to hear from the man they were all there to honor.

“I know this will come as a shock to most of you who know me well, especially those who work with me on a daily basis…but I’m finding myself speechless at the moment…”

Ethan chuckled as did the rest of the room. He bit his lip, locking eyes with Allie and shaking his head, grinning and smirking, a combination of the two.

“I had no idea, absolutely no clue that this was happening tonight. I’m blown away by your support and your presence here tonight. I…uh…” He cleared his throat again, then looked back out into the audience.

He found Allie’s eyes, and also his words again.

“I do not take this award lightly and it truly means so much to me. I don’t know that I like the fact that I’m old enough now to be receiving lifetime achievement awards, but I am grateful, really. I love what I do, I’m fortunate to have a wonderful job that keeps me guessing every single day; really great co-workers, at least most of the time…” Again, the audience laughed.

“I get to teach med students in their first years of residency, and then you know, help save people’s lives. It’s actually surreal that this is the life I get to live.”

Ethan took a deep breath, biting his lip and trying to measure out his next statements carefully.

“As great as all of that is, I know that there is absolutely no possible way for me to be standing before you tonight as the person that I am today, without the love, devotion and care of my wife, Allie Valentine. She’s my Rookie.”

He paused, looking down, one hand finding his heart as he became overcome with emotion. He took several seconds to gather himself, he wanted to stay composed.

“I was actually pretty upset with her tonight for dragging me here and not telling me what the hell was going on. Even though all the things that have been written about me and said about me are true, and my accomplishments have garnered our entire team with a lot of recognition and such, I am most proud of being her husband.

Why she chose to settle down with a grumpy old man like me, I’ll never fully understand…but everything I am and everything I have today is completely because of her faith in me and her ability to make me the best possible version of myself.

When we met, I thought I would be the one teaching her everything she needed to know, but in the end, she has taught me more than I ever taught her.”

Allie’s eyes were filled with tears, she could hardly look at him without feeling as though she was going to burst with pride. She blew him a kiss from her seat and wiped away more tears, not daring to let them fall down her cheeks and ruin the makeup she tried so hard to perfect earlier that evening.

“I feel like I’m Rambling Ramsey up here so I’ll wrap this up - I could go on all night telling you about what Mrs. Ramsey means to me, what this award means to me, but I’ll stop here. Thank you again and please, I want to work the room as they say and thank all of you personally so come find me and…really, sincerely, this means so much to me. Thank you.”

Before he knew it, Ethan was swept away for pictures, people swarming around him, talking to him, handing him scotch after scotch, as it was well-known to be his drink of choice. It felt like at least an hour before he made his way back to Allie. She had just finished speaking with the Governor, when Ethan snuck up behind her.

Immediately, she turned and wrapped her arms around him.

“Happy Birthday, my love!” She whispered in his ear.

“I cannot believe you did this to me…” He said seriously, looking in her eyes. “I hope you know you’re going to get it when we get home.” Ethan teased.

Laughing, Allie picked her glass of Prosecco from the table and raised it towards him in a mock toast as she wiggled her eyebrows and walked towards the open bar.

“Was already planning on it…” She muttered under her breath as she watched him walk away.

“I heard that…” He called out over his shoulder.

Throughout the night each one of them independently visited with people, giving them their sincere thanks and letting them know how meaningful it was to share this evening with them. Every few minutes or so Ethan would find Allie or Allie would find Ethan and they’d give each other a quick squeeze of the hand or a kiss on the cheek as they brushed passed each other and moved on to the next well-wisher.

“I don’t know what she sees in you…” Naveen said to Ethan as he took a swig from a beer bottle, nodding towards Allie who was across the room. “She’s perfect.”

“No doubt about it, I’m the lucky one.” Ethan agreed as Allie sauntered over to the two of them.

“This cannot be good.” She laughed, pointing at them both. “What are you plotting?”

“You’re the schemer.” Naveen chided. “No one could have pulled this off better, my queen.”

Naveen pretended to bow before her with both arms raised above his head while he bent at the waist.

“Oh stop.” Allie waved him off.

“It looks like this crowd is thinning out and if I stay in these shoes much longer my feet will need to be amputated.”

She leaned on Ethan, stifling a yawn.

“I know a guy who can help with that…” Naveen offered, finishing his drink.

“You really know how to throw a birthday party!” He added, following Ethan and Allie out to the valet line for the cars.

“It wasn’t a birthday party!” Both Ethan and Allie said in unison, Allie’s brow furrowed in mock anger.

Naveen begged for forgiveness and said his goodbyes while the couple waited for their vehicle to be brought around. As they sunk into the vehicle, beyond tired, Allie immediately kicked off her heels and Ethan loosened his tie. He threw his jacket into the backseat along with Allie’s shoes and rolled down the windows a bit for fresh air.

“Before we get going…” Allie put her hand on his as it rested on the gearshift.

“I know I said no more surprises – but you can’t be mad at me because this technically wasn’t a birthday surprise it was a general surprise and I knew that if you knew they were giving you an award you’d come up with some excuse not to go and I just couldn’t live with myself if you didn’t get a chance to hear all these people tell you how amazing you are because I know you’re amazing and I tell you all the time but sometimes you don’t believe me.”

She stopped to take a quick breath.

“So, I hope that tonight you know just how many people agree with me that you’re incredible – so please, please don’t be mad. I don’t want to ride all the way home with you in silence because I pulled one over on you.”

“Whoa. Allie. Calm down.” Ethan reached out to her and held her face in his hand.

“I’m not mad. It was a great surprise and…”

He reached across the console and kissed her hard, passionately, with so much force that his lips burned her skin.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” She whispered.

He laced his hand into hers and held it all the way home, staying the way they had been all the years of their relationship and even in little moments all night long…connected, grateful and in awe that somehow, someway they had found each other and were never ever letting go.

#blazerina babbles #ethan x mc #mc x ethan #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey fanfiction #dr. ethan ramsey #dr ethan ramsey #open heart #open heart fanfiction

134 notes · View notes

balloonsonthego-blog · 5 years

Text

Buy Balloons to Add Up More Fun and Excitement to Your Party

Special design of the place transforms the definition of the parties completely. Whatever the celebration it is, the space is promptly pepped up with using vibrant decorative and also enjoyable products. Particularly the youngsters start leaping with happiness seeing colors as well as sparkles. Children are especially relocated when there is a function in the house. They want their residence to glimmer one of the most in the town. While we speak about the joyful celebrations as well as decoration for the party, no event is complete without embellishing the location with colorful balloons. Yes, they are not only kids' favorite; the elders are additionally supported seeing a location decorated with bunches of Party Decoration Balloons Same Day Delivery.

They are available all over, you simply need to obtain them from the nearby store. After you have a great deal of Surprise Balloon Bouquet Online Dubai, you will require a great deal of people to pump air in these balloons. Today a days with the automatic air fillers, you can inflate loads of balloons in simply one go alone. Isn't this fascinating, they likewise can be found in lots of kinds as well as they are beautiful in all their ranges. They full of certain gases are likewise flown high in the air. Balloon decoration can never ever obtain old, different imaginative suggestions of decoration with balloons are utilized to commemorate as well as amaze your close individuals on unique minutes. Where there are a lot of balloons in functions, you can get off your hands from your kids as they will certainly be participated in playing with vibrant balloons.

Apart from commemorating birthday celebrations and also wedding anniversaries, these days customized made balloons are likewise utilized to stand for special occasions such as graduation day or stag party. Just like tailored styles and outfits, you can get individualized balloons published with pictures and quotes. balloons are larger and shinier; they look glossy and improve the decoration. These balloons can be found in strong colors and also you can ginger up the event by making fascinating mix of these shades. Like to commemorate your love wedding anniversary, you can simply opt for a mix of lovely white as well as extreme red or you can choose child pink for your youngster's birthday.

For more info:- Same Day Balloons Delivery in Dubai

1 note · View note

girls-scenarios · 6 years

Text

A Night to Remember

Idol: Nakyung (fromis_9)

Prompt: fromis finally gets their first win on nakyungs birthday and reader hosts a surprise party for nakyung afterwards!! omg i can't believe i almost missed this i love this blog so much

Writer: Admin Kiwi

A/N: So the fromis_9 official profile spells her name as Nagyung, while everyone on Tumblr seems to spell her name as Nakyung I’m so confused-. Anyone care to explain? I usually go off the profile spelling but for Tumblr search purposes I’m going with Nakyung so I hope that’s okay. Also, I wanted to find a gif with her beautiful two-toned hair but there wasn’t one that fit :( Anyway, I hope you all support fromis_9′s comeback Love Bomb (it’s a bop and it’s stuck in my head), and enjoy!

Your heart was soaring. Even through the screen, you could feel your girlfriend’s excitement, and your heart was racing in your chest. Finally, fromis_9 had gotten their first win, and you could feel tears gathering at the sides of your eyes, smiling as you watched the girls gather around each other, trophy in Saerom’s hand. She was talking into the mic with her free hand, faster than usual and trying not to cry, while the other girls hugged each other. Nagyung was laughing with Jiheon and Chaeyoung while Hayoung, Gyuri, and Jisun were crying, and Jiwon was jumping up and down in excitement, holding Seoyeon’s hand. For a moment, you could only watch, lost in your happiness for them.

It wasn’t until the other idols began to file off the stage and their song started to play through the speakers that you were knocked out of your thoughts and remembered what you’d been doing. It was Nakyung’s birthday, and you were currently standing in their dorm, surrounded by balloons, a “happy birthday” banner, and other scattered decorating materials.

“What an awesome birthday gift,” you said to yourself, stealing one last look at the tv as the girls sang along to their song. Nagyung was glowing, looking happy enough to burst as she danced and waved to the fans, and she stole your attention again. Finally, you shook your head and looked away from the tv again. As much as you loved her, you had to focus on getting the dorm ready for her surprise birthday party. The other girls had entrusted this with you, so you couldn’t let them down.

Her presents from everyone sat on the table, alongside a space for the cake and snacks that you’d brought. The banner would go on the wall so she’d see it as soon as she walked in, and you were scattering balloons around the room, along with taping them up alongside the banner. You also had balloons that spelled out her name to put under the banner, and they’d taken you forever to fill up, so there was no way you were going to forget them. Rolling up your sleeves, you let the tv play in the background as you got to work. After everything that had happened tonight, the party had to be perfect too.

When your phone buzzed with a text from Chaeyoung, you had finished almost everything.

We’re on our way back now! Is everything done?

You took a quick look around the room. All of the decorations were up, so all that was left was to take out the food and cake and arrange the table.

Everything is ready so come on back. Congratulations on the win!

Thank you!!!! We’re all so excited so this surprise party is going to be FUN!

Laughing, you shook your head and put your phone into your pocket, knowing that Chaeyoung probably had some kind of crazy game planned. You wouldn’t be surprised if Jiwon was in on it either.

Alright, let’s get this done, you thought to yourself as you walked over to the fridge. There was a cake, of course, and ice cream, but there was also an assortment of other things, like a veggie plate, western chips and dips that Nakyung liked, plenty of different drinks, and the foods Jisun had cooked and left for you to heat up. You’d also ordered cheese tteokbokki from her favorite restaurant, and it should be there any minute. This was going to be perfect.

Quickly, you set to work clearing space for the food and arranging the presents around the cake in an aesthetic way before beginning to heat up the food. Halfway through the heating up, you were setting out the drinks when the doorbell rang. For a moment, you panicked, before you remembered that it was the delivery you’d ordered and hurried over to open the door and pay for it all, adding it to the array of food and going back to what you were doing.

It was perfect timing. As you sat down the last hot dish, your ears picked up the sound of the girls outside. You dashed over to dim the lights and hide behind the couch, hoping that they couldn’t hear your quickly-beating heart from the doorway.

The door swung open and Saerom stepped inside first, flipping on the lights. As light flooded the room, you heard Nakyung gasp and the rest of the girls begin to cheer.

“Surprise!” You jumped up from where you’d been hiding with a wide grin, and Nakyung’s hands went to her mouth, eyes growing even wider.

“(Y/N)? What’s going on?”

“Happy birthday Nakyung! We planned a surprise for you!” Chaeyoung said, bouncing happily. “(Y/N) helped us out by getting all of it ready while we were working.”

“It looks like it’s doubling as a first win party as well. Congratulations, girls!” You said as you walked over to the group. Nakyung stopped covering her mouth to grab your your hands instead as the rest of the group tumbled into the dorms, tears still streaming down Gyuri’s cheeks as she leaned on Jisun.

“Thank you, (Y/N). Thank you, everyone.” You smiled at her fondly and led her further inside.

“You’re welcome. Come on, I just warmed up all the food, and the cheese tteokbokki is fresh! You guys deserve it!”

“You’re the best, (Y/N)!” Jiwon called as she darted into the kitchen, grabbing a plate and getting started. The rest of the girls followed suit, other than Saerom who hung back a bit to make sure everyone else had enough to eat, but Nakyung didn’t seem to be in any hurry as she approached the cake first. It was rather simple, reading “Happy Birthday Aegyo Queen Nakyung”, but it was her favorite flavor, and she seemed to be touched all the same.

“I love it,” she said, turning to you with a smile. “I love it all. You did all of this by yourself?” You rubbed the back of your neck, shrugging your shoulders.

“Yeah, but it wasn’t that bad. Plus, they got the cake and most of the food before you guys left.”

“That’s why Hayoung unnie wouldn’t let me in the kitchen,” she said, shooting a glance at the oldest member. “It makes sense now.” Laughing, you grabbed two plates, handing one to her.

“Sorry to keep you in the dark. But I got the cheese tteokbokki from your favorite place, so does that make up for it?” Smiling, she leaned into you, letting you lead her over to her favorite dish.

“Just the party would have made up for it honestly. But the cheese tteokbokki? I feel like I owe you one.” She was just joking, you could tell from the lilt in her voice, but you still grinned and raised your eyebrows.

“Hmm, could I get a kiss then?” She giggled and leaned in to press a swift kiss to your lips, almond eyes sparkling as she pulled away.

“I was going to kiss you anyway, you didn’t have to ask.”

“Eww, not in the kitchen,” Jiheon whined, making Nakyung stick her tongue out at her. But she pulled away from you anyway, moving instead to begin filling her plate with food.

The atmosphere was good; everyone was excited, happy, and giddy from the win, so no one seemed to remember that they were tired from long practices and schedules, instead buzzing with life as they gathered in the living room. The trophy sat on the highest shelf near the tv, proclaiming their win to whoever walked through the door.

Nakyung took your hand again once she was finished making her plate, and the two of you walked over to join everyone else sitting in the living room. As the two of you sat down, she bumped your shoulder with her own.

“Hey, babe?”

“Hm?” No one else seemed to be interested in your conversation, busy talking about the win.

“What did you get me?” Her eyes were sparkling again, and she looked so cute that you really wanted to kiss her again. Maybe you would.

“Why do you want to know?” You had gotten her a little figure of her favorite Overwatch character, and the newest Oh My Girl album. But you weren’t going to tell her that and spoil the surprise.

“Because I wanna know?” She gave you the little pout that she knew made your heart speed up, but you shook your head.

“Nope, not going to work. You’ll have to wait and see.” She pouted even harder, leaning in even closer and resting her chin on your shoulder, but just as you felt like you might give in, Jiwon jumped up from the circle, startling everyone into looking at her.

“Okay everyone, it’s game time! Come on!”

“Game time?” Nakyoung asked, pulling away from you and giving you a moment to breathe. Chaeyoung moved to stand beside Jiwon, and you recognized the look on her face.

“Of course! The night would be boring without some kind of entertainment.” Seoyeon knew too, scrunching up her nose as she looked at her friends.

“By entertainment, you mean that you two are going to make us play some weird game, right?”

“Obviously.”

“Saerom unnie,” Jisun said, turning to the leader for help, but Saerom just shrugged and leaned back into her chair.

“As long as we’re not doing anything crazy or illegal, I don’t see anything wrong with it. It’s a birthday party, you’re supposed to play games.” Jisun sighed and rested her head on Gyuri’s shoulder, and Hayoung gave Saerom a wary look, but Chaeyoung and Jiwon cheered immediately.

“Thank you, leader! The first game is....” Chaeyoung turned to Jiwon, who announced it.

“Truth or dare!” The reaction was varied, from groans to laughs, and you shook your head, already knowing where this was going. But Nakyung was laughing, and as long as she was happy, you were happy.

“Remember the last time we played?” You said, looking at her with raised eyebrows. She nodded.

“Yeah, we had to switch clothes.”

“And you ended up keeping my sweater.”

“Hey, it was cute! And you said it was okay!” You laughed, and she rested her chin on your shoulder again, so close and cute that it made your heart speed up again. No matter now long you’d dated her, she still made your heart race. “Hey, let me dare you.”

“The game hasn’t started yet.”

“Just let me!”

“Fine.” She tilted her head slightly.

“I dare you to kiss me.” You let out a laugh.

“You didn’t have to dare me to do that. I would have anyway.”

“It’s in the spirit of the game.” It was getting late, but you didn’t feel tired at all. The food was good and the room was abuzz, and the entire night had been a success.

“Are you having a good birthday?”

“It’s amazing. It would be even better if you kissed me.” You couldn’t say no to that. Immediately, you leaned forward and captured her lips, kissing her softly. The rest of the girls reacted, of course, but you couldn’t be bothered, and you knew Nakyung wasn’t either. When you pulled away from her, you raised your eyebrows.

“That make it better?” She smiled that cute little smile that made her nose scrunch up just slightly and her eyes crinkle at the sides and wrapped her arms around you, resting her head on your shoulder. You put your arm around her shoulders, pulling her close, and ignored Jiwon’s protests. Nakyung was happy, so you were happy, and well, you knew the other girls were happy too.

“Now it’s perfect.”

#fromis_9 #fromis 9 #fromis9 #fromis #nakyung #nagyung #fromis_9 scenarios #fromis 9 scenarios #fromis 9 scenario #nakyung scenarios #nakyung scenario #nagyung scenario #girl group scenarios #girl group scenario #kpop scenario #girl groups #kpop girl groups #fromis scenarios #fromis9 scenario

65 notes · View notes

emilyelizabethfowl · 6 years

Text

A Cup Of Coffee And Birthday Wishes

This is my response to @paigyloli beautiful challenger piece!

Both pieces were made for the @uravitybang organized by the incredible @clairelutra!

Available on AO3

Length: 5519 words; Pairing: none; Other characters: the entire 1AUA class, only there’s Shinsou instead of Mineta;

Disclaimer: I have never in my life drunk coffee. I have no idea how to make coffee. I have researched featured drinks extensively, but please do not try to make them at home unless you have experience in coffee-making.

“Welcome! How can I help you today?” Ochaco perked up at the sound of the door bell as her voice ringed through the empty café.

“Sorry, Occhan,” Midoriya said, crossing the threshold. “It’s just me and Tsu-chan, here.”

Ochaco’s smile slipped a bit. She was happy, of course, to see her friends and co-workers, but it just wasn’t the same as having customers.

She plopped down on the counter, staring at the perfectly arranged pastries, that had taken her half of the shift to get sorted.

“Not many customers then, I take it? Ribbit.” Tsu-chan said as she walked up to her, patting Uraraka’s cap gently, as the girl dropped her head, her arm being the only thing preventing her forehead from thumping on the cold surface. Midoriya took the time to get their coats sorted out in the backroom.

“Not one,” Ochaco mumbled out into the crook of her arm. “Not one through the entire week!”

All Atsui could offer was a soft hum of patient understanding.

“It’s only wednesday, though!” Midoriya pointed out, entering the main room again, his apron firmly in place. “I’m sure someone will turn up soon!”

“But what if they don’t?” Uraraka looked wistfully at the cakes again. “These will all go to waste!”

The other two looked at the pieces as well; the moist layers of sponge, connected by the generous portions of creme, covered with glaze on the outside, and sugar flowers on the top.

They were simply mouth-watering, alluring everyone who entered the café with their ephemeral beauty and promise of heavenly taste.

Midoriya shook his head slightly.

“Yeah, Kacchan really did his best with those, didn’t he?” He managed, his strong will being the only thing that prevented him from gluing his face to the glass case like a child. “I still can’t believe these pieces landed here and not in a art gallery!”

Atsui could only manage a slight nod.

“And now they will all turn into garbage!” Ochaco wailed miserably. “I don’t understand! Last week there was someone here all the time!”

Her co-workers exchanged a worried glance.

That café was her oldest dream, her most pampered child; To have it not filled with life, chatter and the smell of coffee must’ve been hard for her.

With a heavy sigh Ochaco pushed herself off the counter.

“Guess I’ll go sort through the materials, again.” She declared, straightening her cap and re-knotting her apron. “For the third time today.”

She headed towards the backroom, her shoulders slumped as if the world’s entire stock of coffee beans rested on it, her feet dragging as if she was wading through the thickest cream and toffee muddled together.

The second she disappeared behind the door frame, Tsui and Midoriya huddled together.

“Do you think it was a good idea? Ribbit.” Tsu-chan asked, wringing her hands nervously.

“I didn’t expect everyone would just, stop coming.” Izuku wasn’t much better, fiddling with the edge of his apron as if it held the answers to all of the world’s problems. “I thought she would just have a bit of a break, you’ve seen the bags under her eyes.”

“I’m not sure if worrying over no customers helped with that particular problem, ribbit.” As usual, Tsu-chan’s bluntness hit where it was most relevant.

Midoriya bit his lower lip, twisting his fingers so hard Atsui was sure people could hear him from the other side of the street.

“I’m sure it’ll work out just fine, ribbit.” She decided to have some mercy for the boy, getting distressed over him being distressed. “This evening everything will go back to normal, and she’ll be happy again in no time, ribbit.”

“Let’s hope,” Midoriya agreed, on the verge of biting his nails. “Let us hope it will work.”

In the meantime, Ochaco was busy in the back room, looking at the bean bags with a calculating expression on her face.

“Am I desperate enough?” she mused quietly, her hand sieving the beans softly.

She was on the verge of deciding that yes, she was desperate enough despite the bag not having the bean-count, when her phone ringed.

Her phone almost landed on the floor when she very enthusiastically tried to remove it from her apron pocket as soon as humanly possible.

“Hero Café, Uraraka Ochaco at the phone, how can I help you today?” She chirped happily, forgoing reading the contact name.

“...” The other person didn’t say anything for a moment, “Do you always answer your personal phone like this?”

Uraraka blushed, silently grateful it wasn’t a video call. Although, if it was, she wouldn’t have greeted him like that in the first place...

“Kacchan! You’d know if you called more often,” she retorted, going on offensive. “I don’t think I’ve heard from you outside of business matter in at least half a month! I bet this time isn’t any different?”

A loud sigh sounded from the other side. She could picture him rubbing his forehead with the back of his hand, constantly aware of the flour or dough that was probably staining his fingers. If Bakugou was doing one thing at a time, it would be lying down when he’s dead, nothing else, no sooner than that.

“You know Koji and I are really busy around Christmas,” Bakugou said, regret ringing faintly in his voice. “But, actually, we’re going to drop by this afternoon. See around, check what new kinds of coffee you’ve got brewing, this kinda thing.”

The overjoyed squeal Uraraka made most likely reached the frequencies usually used by dolphins and bats, and it had the side effect of momentarily deafening Bakugou.

“Yeah, go on, destroy my eardrums, it’s not as if I need them!” He complained, louder than strictly necessary.

“Sorry, Kacchan,” Uraraka giggled apologetically, one hand moving to play with the beans again. Her shoulders slowly became less tense and the soothing motion took the forefront of her mind, pushing the lack of customers to some old, dusty coroner.

“Anyway,” Bakugou’s voice was back to its normal volume. “Do you need me to bring anything? I know the monday’s delivery was supposed to last til friday, but if you run out of something-”

“Sorry,” She interrupted him, “I’ve got full stuck.”

Fidgeting with the hem of her apron, she waited for Bakugou to answer.

“Damn,” he finally said. “Gotta kick it up a notch or two, if no one wants to buy our cakes.”

“Oh, I’m sure if people actually came in and saw them, they wouldn’t be able to resist their overwhelming cuteness and charm!” Uraraka replied, refusing to make Bakugou feel bad for longer than what it takes to rely the message. “It’s just… There’s not many people around, lately.”

They both stayed silent for a second.

Then, Uraraka could swear Bakugou grumbled something that sounded suspiciously like “Fucking Deku”, but before she could question him about it, he was talking again.

“You gotta tell us all about it when we come over,” he said in his I run out of time voice. “I gotta run now, y’know how it is. See ya.”

“See you, Kacchan!” Uraraka rushed out, managing to fit the entire bit before the tell-tale sound of disconnecting.

She put her phone back in the pocket, suppressing the heavy sigh that threatened to escape. It wouldn’t do to despair over the customers, or rather the lack thereof.

Bracing herself, determined to do her best no matter what. She left the backroom only to have her eyes assaulted by the most sparkling stack of glittery something that ever existed.

But Deku and Tsu-chan seemed as if they were talking to that highly reflective surface…

“Aoyama-kun?” She hazarded a guess, knowing he was the only person who would willingly wear such amount of sequins and rhinestones.

She knew she got it in one as the stack turned around, revealing the unmistakable, absolutely dazzling smile of one Aoyama Yuga.

“Oui, it is indeed I!” He exclaimed, waving around with the armfulls of glitter-filled balloons he had with himself. “And I have brought decorations!”

Uraraka tilted her head.

“It’s really nice of you… But is there any occassion? I thought today’s just a random day like all the others…”

With her attention pinned to the effervescent figure in the middle of the room, Uraraka missed the quick glance exchanged between Midoriya and Asui.

“Ah, but every day is worth celebrating, mon amie!” Aoyama declared with flourish, the balloons leaving generous amounts of glitter in their wake.

Uraraka eyed the colorful trail. On one hand, it was creating a big mess in the middle of her café. On the other, that was precisely what she needed - something new to make her hands busy.

Aoyama must’ve wrongly interpreted her sudden silence.

“N’est-ce pas?” He turned towards the other pair, asking for support.

The two green-heads nodded eagerly, succeeding in distracting Ochaco from the idea of checking the calendar.

She faked a sigh, making it seem as if they had to convince her to let the balloons stay. Who wouldn’t want to have such colorful spheres in their café?

“If you would be so nice and put them up on that wall, it would be fantastic.” She directed, smiling softly.

Aoyama’s smile reached its full blinding potential.

“I will do so tout de suite!” He beamed, skipping to the wall she pointed out.

Another sparkling path followed him, making Uraraka wonder how much glitter exactly did he stuff on the inside and outside of balloons he was carrying around, and what prompted him to waste a good few hours on decorating the few dozens of them.

“What’s the deal with all this glitter?” She decided to ask, with a wide hand gesture necessary to encompass the entirety of the balloons.

“Ah!” Aoyama exclaimed, as if he was waiting for this question to be asked (he most likely did). He did a pirouette where he was standing and faced Uraraka once more. “I have decided to buy a couple of des ballons today! But all of the ones en la boutique were comme ci, comme ça - terriblement moche, the lot of them! So as you can see, I had no choice but to sparkle them up myself! Much more éclatant now, n’est-ce pas?”

She nodded seriously, pretending the possible existence of ugly balloons was the worst thing in the entire universe.

“How much time did you spend on them?” Midoriya asked curiously.

“And how much money did you spent on glitter? Ribbit.” Asui added.

Aoyama flipped his hair out of his face.

“Je ne regrette rien!” He said proudly, and moved towards the wall again.

The trio shook their heads in unison, well aware of Aoyama’s antics. Nothing was sparkly enough for him - even store-bought glitter was not glittery enough. No one had any idea what his secret ingredient was, but the glitter he produced was at least three times as dazzling, making the common one look pale and plain in comparison.

Uraraka made a move to go and grab the broom, but changed her mind before she could even take a single step.

“Would you like something to drink, Aoyama-kun?” She asked, moving to the counter instead.

“Sûrement!” The man replied, almost completely focused on getting the balloons just right.

“The usual?” She clarified.

“Mais oui! Merci beaucoup!” Aoyama looked over his shoulder to express his gratitude and blowing her a long-distance thank-you kiss, before once again immensely focusing on his precious floating glitter bombs.

“I assure you, the pleasure is all mine.” Uraraka grabbed at the ingredients necessary to prepare the “Can’t Stop Twinkling Coffee”.

Maybe it wasn’t the most original name, but the coffee itself was most certainly one-of-a-kind.

It was a cappuccino, and its every sip was absolutely dazzling. The foam on the top glistened like a layer of fresh snow on top of the velvety expansion of caffeinated pleasure. On top of that was a star made with the most shining edible glitter Aoyama was able to produce.

The drink was bright enough to blind you and delicious enough to make your taste buds find everything else bland for the rest of your life.

It’s also very quick to make. Even when she was trying to slow down the process, it didn’t take her longer than a mere five minutes.

After bringing the cup over to Aoyama - she served it in a see-through glass cup and saucer, to make sure it’s beauty and sparkliness could be properly appreciated - Tsu-chan handed her a broom.

“Thank you,” Uraraka took it, grateful to have such understanding co-workers. If they were to clean it and she was to just sit around and do nothing, she would surely go crazy with restlessness.

She only swooped the broom only a couple of times, before the most beautiful sound in the entire universe sounded through the café - the bell above the entrance!

“Welcome!” She called out happily, stilling the motions of the broom. Midoriya and Asui looked up from where they were sitting at the table as well, only Aoyama being completely unperturbed. “How can I help you today?”

She looked over at the front, looking for the customer she was welcoming, but there was no one there. The door stood wide open, but no one entered the café. Uraraka stared at the tracks in the snow, confused.

“Hello?” Midoriya called out, half-way out of the chair, the green lightning bolts of One-For-All buzzing on the surface of his skin.

“Oh, sorry!” A breathless voice sounded from the threshold, enabling them all to identify the newcomer as Hagakure. “I’m- on the job- with Sato!”

All she was able to say after that were pants - it was clear she must’ve ran all the way to the café - but then again, nothing else had to be said.

Uraraka knew what they needed. She was back at the counter before someone could say “Sugar Rush Coffee”! It was another one of her special coffee series.

This one was a simple caramel macchiato, but the sugar contained in such a small glass was a dose that would seriously mess up an usual human!

In Sato’s case however, it was the perfect energy shot for when he’s out of his own packets.

First into the cup went a shot of espresso, with seven sugars. Then a bit of highly-concentrated vanilla syrup. Next goes frothed milk, extra sweetened by the addition of vanilla. On top went a generous dose of caramel sauce, and after sprinkling it with brown sugar, the drink was ready!

Ochaco served it in a solid but light metal cups with lids, so that they were easy to discard and almost impossible to get destroyed upon impact - it might not exactly matter when she fixes a cup for a normal customer, but in the case of Sato it was very important.

“Thank you!” Hagakure chirped, paying with an application on her phone. She grabbed the cup and run out of the shop, rushing towards the place she left Sugar Rush at.

Hagakure had her own “Invisible Girl Coffee”, but she rarely ordered it - she rarely ordered any coffee, really.

Fortunately, she had many fans who loved it. And Uraraka loved making it, so really, it was a win-win situation for everyone.

That coffee was one of her greatest creations - a blend of highest quality, imported straight from the plantation Ethiopian Arabica coffee beans, carefully processed to result in a completely clear coffee.

A single serving contained as much caffeine as a cappuccino, but its sweet, aromatic and just a little sharp taste resembled more a latte. It was also less bitter than regular coffee - therefore there was no need for milk or sugar.

Of course, there was always someone who wanted to add some, but it was between them and their cup of coffee-

“That would be two customers, by now,” Deku pointed out cheerfully, again seated comfortably.

Uraraka eyed them carefully.

“Let’s make it four, shall we? Ribbit.” Tsu-chan proposed with one of her rare smiles.

Ochaco grinned widely.

If she could spend her life by only making coffee, she would die happy.

Asui’s coffee, the “Froppy Coffee”, was a more of a tea than a coffee, but she left the name so that it’d fit the collection.

A spoon of matcha green tea and twice as much sugar went to the cup and got mixed with water until it was dark and smooth. Then in went milk, usually with a hint of vanilla, to reach a light green coloration. On top went a tiny bit of frothed milk and a simple symbol of a frog, made from the matcha powder and green glitter.

Served, of course, in a forest green cup with cute froggy accents.

Deku’s “Deku Coffee” was more of a concentrated shot of pure caffeine with a microscopical tang of sweetness with a complimentary tartness. It was made by compiling three shots of blackest espresso with the thinnest possible layer of frothed milk, painted dark green by tasteless food coloring. And the grand finale - grated lime zest and, of course, some golden glitter.

Soon enough the drinks were done and Uraraka went back to sweeping the floor.

She hasn’t done so for long - the sparkling trail had barely a third of itself cleaned up when the bell rung again.

“Welcome!” she greeted the newcomer. “How can I help you today?”

On the doorstep stood Tokoyami, Dark Shadow hidden under his jacket. It was holding a thick, black notebook - all three were a regular view at her café. Tokoyami always insisted it was the place where he wrote the best pieces of poetry.

With a quiet word of greeting directed at each of the four people currently in the café, he moved directly to his usual table in the coroner.

Uraraka set the broom down and happily skipped to the counter.

“Tsukuyomi Coffee” was one of the darkest coffees she ever made or drunk, both in color and taste. Tokoyami insisted the sharp bite was doing wonders for his creativity.

It was basically a large slow-drip coffee from a roast that was light enough to guarantee a strong taste and dark enough to make sure the cup stays as close to an imitation of a black hole as possible.

It had a rough finish and was almost too strong to drink - that’s why Uraraka tended to add a small layer of frothed milk and use the created surface to add a likeness of Dark Shadow made with dark cocoa.

That particular coffee was very popular with coffee addicts who were no longer able to reach the desired effects of coffee consumption via regular brews.

“Thank you,” Tokoyami said as she placed the insanely black cup in front of him. The tiny white dots here and there only emphasized on the infinite expanse of darkness presented on the ceramic.

With the customer taken care of and as happy as he wanted to show, Uraraka grabbed the broom and all too soon all the misplaced glitter was gathered on a single stack near the wall.

Speaking of which, the wall decorations Aoyama was putting up already covered almost half of the available surface. And of course another sparkling trail gathered at the junction where the wall and the floor met.

Another quick job for when Ochaco got too restless with the lack of customers.

Fortunately for everyone, two people just decided to drop by.

“Hiiii!” Sounded through the café simultaneously with the bell.

Uraraka’s head whipped around. Only half-caring whether or not the broom will find support on the nearest table she let it go, crossing the room in a few quick strides and hugging the hell out of the pink newcomer.

“Welcome!” She added, moving to hug Yaoyorozu. Facing both of them, she asked, “How can I help you today?”

“We heard Aoyama-kun was set on decorating your café,” Yaomomo explained. “We came to help him.”

“And to get those sweet, sweet drinks you created with our names!” Ashido added, bouncing on her feet. “I still can’t believe you’ve got our entire class done! And every one of them is absolutely delicious!”

Ochaco blushed slightly, moving to fidget with a loose strand of her hand.

“I just thought it would be a great way to bust the recognition, especially since we barely graduated,” she explained, a soft smile constantly present on her face.

“And it was a genius idea!” Midoriya called over.

“Agreed. Ribbit.” Tsu-chan added.

Neither of them got up to greet the newest additions, but they did exchange waves.

Uraraka blushed harder, moving towards the counter to get started on the coffees, while the girls made their way to the sparkling highlight of the café.

Her goal when creating “Alien Queen Coffee” was to make the pinkest coffee imaginable. It did take her multiple tries to get the recipe just right, but the resulting sweet paradise was absolutely worth it.

She started by mixing a shot of espresso with an equal portion of honey. Then in went three times as much milk mixed with raspberry, thoroughly frothed. On that she placed a layer of whipped cream, also colored pink, and after grating a portion of pink chocolate, the drink was ready.

It was of course served in a cup covered with a layer of pinkest pink paint that ever existed.

After this one was ready, she started on Yaomomo’s drink.

“Creati Coffee” was kind of a mix of frappuccino and mocha cappuccino.

Into a mixer went a cup of ice, half a cup of milk and three shots of espresso, complemented by 3 pumps each of vanilla and dark chocolate syrup and a few tablespoons of chocolate chips.

On top went a generous dollop of chocolate whipped cream, drizzled with caramel syrup and sprinkled with oreo cookie crumbs.

Its sweetness rivailed that of Sato’s drink, but it was a side-feature of the drink. The main goal of Uraraka’s while making it, was to make the fat content as high as she possibly could.

And since most of the fattest coffee additions are sweet… Well, no one was complaining.

With both coffees done, she brought them over to the girls, who were quietly conversing with Aoyama.

“Do you want another cup, Aoyama?” She asked, handing out the drinks. “That glitter on your lips must be driving you crazy!”

“Oh, non, non!” Aoyama explained, his focus shifting to cover solely her. “C’est mon newest lipstick line!”

He rummaged through his purse, pulling out a handful of tubes.

“Ça, alors!” He said, showing off the four tubes - yellow, two pinks and a red one, all of them looking as if they were made of compressed glitter and glitter only.

Plucking the yellow one out of his own hand, he decaped it and fixed his look.

He motioned the rest towards the girls.

“Je made those with you in mind!” Aoyama prompted, causing the girls to help themselves to the sticks.

Ashido immediately opened hers and after quick eradication of her previous lipstick, she applied the new one.

“Oooh!” She squealed happily, “It doesn’t feel like glitter at all! I feel no grating!”

With such an encouragement, the other two applied their own as well.

“It’s truly most delightful!” Confirmed Yaoyorozu. Uraraka nodded in agreement.

“What is it?” Deku came closer, Asui looking over his shoulder.

“Ah!” Aoyama plucked his hand into his purse again. “I have some rouge à lèvres for you two aussi!”

He extended his hand with a flourish, presenting the two of them with two sparkling green lipsticks. With a quick look around, they applied it as well.

The five of them gushed over the delightful make-up when the bell sounded again.

“Welcome!” Uraraka turned around promptly. “How can I help you?”

This time at the entrance stood three people.

“We have come for your delicious coffee!” Iida explained with his usual grand gestures.

“Yeah, what he said,” Shinsou and Todoroki chorused, flanking both of his sides.

Uraraka lighted up almost brighter than it was possible. Another three coffees from her beloved collection? That day was shaping up better and better with every passing moment!

“Ingenium Coffee” was a unique kind of coffee that only the biggest connoisseurs ever dared to try - a full serving of sparkling coffee.

It was a very popular drink, as people found it unusual; It was also the second drink most often dared to drink, right after “Tsukuyomi Coffee”, even though it was right on the other end of spectrum.

It was quite easy to make, too. A cocktail shaker was to be filled with ice, vanilla syrup and espresso shot. After a vigorous shaking, the resulting mixture got strained over glass filled with ice. Then the entire thing was topped with sparkling water and decorated with some mint leaves.

Of course, the cup resembled one of Iida’s engines.

Shinsou’s coffee had an extremely unfortunate name. The reason was simple - Hitoshi was a not-so-little shit and took his sweet time with his hero license, choosing his hero name after Uraraka already began her coffee line.

With the naming convention known, Shinsou choose the name “Order”.

If Ochaco got a coffee bean each time someone went up to the counter with a “Order Coffee, please” or many of its variations on their lips, she would never have to order any ever again.

“Order Coffee” was a simple cappuccino: a shot of espresso, steamed milk, and a layer of foam. On that went some simple swirls made with purple violet syrup. With a bit of grated chocolate on the top, the cappuccino was ready.

“Shouto Coffee” was a variation of affogato. While normally the ice-cream went as the base and the cup got filled with espresso, she preferred to make it half-and-half with a vertical division.

She had Hatsune Mei make a scoop that shaped the ice cream to fit perfectly the arctic blue cup she liked to use for that specific drink. The actual coffee bit was made with lighter beans to reach the reddish-brown coloration, making it a quite strong concoction.

After the boys’ coffees were done, she brought them over to the table they were sitting at, close to Aoyama. She gathered the empty cups on her way and set to wash them, happy to have something to do.

The universe had other plans - barely did she put the cups in the sink when the bell rung and another group of people entered.

“Hi, Uraraka! Hey, everyone!” Sero called out, stepping over threshold first. Directly behind him was Jirou, greeting everyone with a solemn nod. Last entered Shouji and Ojiro, following through with their own words of greetings.

“Welcome!” Uraraka responded cheerfully. “The usuals?”

A handful of confirmations later, Ochaco once again started in a flurry of movements, getting ready for another four cups of coffee.

Jirou’s, Shouji’s and Ojirou’s coffees weren’t exactly original; Rather, they were personalized.

“Earphone Jack Coffee” was a simple latte - a shot of espresso, a portion of milk. On top of that went a stave, a key and a few notes drawn usually with hazelnut syrup.

“Tentacole Coffee” was an Americano - that is, a shot of espresso diluted with water - with a bit of blue-colored foam covering half of the cup, resembling his trademark mask.

“Tailman Coffee” was a mocha - espresso with chocolate powder, mixed with frothed milk and with an added tiny, yellow-colored puff of whipped cream on top, resembling the tuft on the end of his tail.

And then there was the Sero’s one.

“Cellophane Coffee” did not, as many young people apparently believed, contain any cellophane. Although it was just as thick and hard to swallow.

A ristretto, which is basically an espresso shot with half the water, gets mixed with condensed milk. That ensures the coffee is thick and velvety. Then on the top Uraraka draws swirls with extra thick vanilla syrup. No water, no standard milk, only the thickest ingredients for the highest quality tape-like coffee.

This time she didn’t even get to properly stand behind the counter before the doors opened again.

“Welcome!” She turned with a wide smile. “How can I help you today?”

The café entered Kaminari and Kirishima, equally wide smiles visible on their faces. Behind them stood Bakugou, with a slightly smaller frown than his usual one, which equalled a smile in his book. He grunted in greeting.

“Hi Uraraka!” Kirishima called out, with followed by Kaminari,“Hi everyone!”

The two of them made a beeline towards her, while Bakugou preferred to focus on his cakes first.

“Do you know where’s Koda?” Ochaco asked. “Kacchan said they would both come this afternoon.”

The boys exchanged a glance.

“I don’t know,” Kaminari said. “We only met him right in front of your café.

“You’d need to ask Kacchan himself,” Kirishima added, pointing at Bakugou engrossed with the cakes.

“I’ll sure do!” Uraraka assured.

With a bit more of small-talk, the both of them ordered their usual drinks, after which they went to greet the rest of the group already present in the room.

“Red Riot Coffee” was an advanced macchiato - double shot of espresso as a base, with red-colored frothed milk arranged into spikes just like his hair.

A strong but sweet coffee - just like him.

“Chargebolt Coffee” was a large espresso with a thin layer of foam, on which she drew a lightning bolt in yellow edible glitter.

Absolutely electrifying drink, ideal for recharging when your energy’s low.

She finished both of them quickly, only then realizing that at some point, Kacchan shifted his attention from the fruity freshness of cakes to her swift movements.

Blushing slightly, she took the cups to her customers, feeling his eyes following her.

“So, where’s Koda?” Ochaco asked when she got back behind the counter, setting down the empty cups she gathered.

“He’s coming in a bit, he wanted to get some touch-ups done on his latest creation.”

Uraraka hummed quietly, focusing on making his coffee. It was one of her more creative creations.

“Ground Zero Coffee” was almost as explosive as Kacchan himself. Made in tall glass, it contained a shot of espresso, then got filled with a thick layer of whipped cream. On that she sprinkled some pop rocks, another layer of cream, pop rocks, cream, and pop rocks again as the grand finish.

The drink popped in one’s mouth with tiny sparks just like those Bakugou produced when his temper spiked suddenly.

“Should I make his order now, or wait a bit?” She asked, putting the glass in front of Bakugou.

“Now, I suppose,” he said, taking a sip and grinning madly. “God, I love this coffee.”

Uraraka blushed bright red, preparing Koda’s drink.

“Anima Coffee” was just a shot of espresso with hazelnut syrup and a tall layer of milk foam and a cute paw mark made from cocoa powder at the top. Precisely as cute and sweet as Koda himself!

She set the cup aside, pondering the question of what to do next. She could ask if anyone wanted a refill-

“Why don’t you make yours, too?” Kacchan interrupted her musings. “I know you don’t make it often.”

Uraraka thought about it for a moment.

“Well… I mean, Aoyama said that every day is worth celebrating, so I don’t see why not!” She decided in the end.

“Uravity Coffee” was the second least coffeey drink on her “1AUA Hero Coffee Collection”list, right after Asui’s one.

To reach the perfect creamy texture and the ethereal weightlessness, she had to forgo the standard methods. Instead, she mixed a shot of espresso with light milk and frothed the mixture to reach the perfect foamy concoction, that seemed to defy the laws of physics and attempt to escape the cup.

She moved to take the first sip, when the doorbell rang. A bit reluctantly, she set the cup down, but before she could say anything, the others spoke instead.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” Sounded through the café, with a few party cannons going off.

Startled, Uraraka looked around.

At the entrance stood Koda, holding the biggest, yet lightest looking cake she had ever seen.

Behind him were Sero and Hagakure, out of their hero suits and holding a tray of floaty-looking cupcakes.

Everyone who already was inside the café stood in a group in front of the decorations, grinning at her, a pile of colorful boxes at their feet.

When she actually focused on the ornaments, she noticed the balloons spelled “HAPPY BIRTHDAY OCHACO!” which made her feel a little silly for not seeing it sooner, but other than that, it warmed her heart to see her friends care about her so much.

She could feel her eyes welling up with tears, but she ignored it in favor of hugging every single one of her friends.

“This is the best birthday ever!”

And with that declaration, the party started.

#BNHA #Boku no Hero Academia #Uraraka Ochaco #Uraraka Ochako #Uravity Bang #My Writing

12 notes · View notes