it’s my bday today so i’m kindly asking if you can write a bday thingy for goose and ghost? like it’s either one of their birthdays and how they would be during that day.
I have some 1870s Goose and Ghost queued for later, but we can do some modern birthday babes. Here is Goose knowing Ghost, because to love is to be known. Also eeeeeey fellow Virgo.
Ghost's birthday is not something he celebrates. In fact he's managed to keep it quiet for long enough to be redacted on most dossiers of information. Obviously he has a birthday, and someone must know it, but he hasn't told anyone for quite some time. You are not about to let that slide. Not when your daddy knows it.
It takes very little coaxing to get the exact date out of your father. His bear trap memory finally serving your personal whims. You waste no time popping the date on your calendar and starting your planning. Simon finds out you know about a week before the day.
He corners you in the barn, because where else does he corner you, and politely demands to know what you're planning. You are, unfortunately, adamant that it remain a surprise. You both know there's no changing either of your minds once they're made up. This makes him irritable all week. You don't see what the big deal is, but Simon is snappy. Anxious, you think. He doesn't like surprises.
He's worse the day of. He seems to wake up in a bad mood, and when he snaps at you over breakfast he only seems to get worse. He and Soap get into it over the horses. He gets into it with Gaz over how to unload hay. You're almost worried your dad will tell you to cancel his birthday with how poorly he's behaving. Especially after the fight he gets into with him over spilling the beans on the fact he actually has a day to celebrate.
When you're both finally back in your house after work he's right on the edge of explosion. Tossing his hat on the chair by the door and swearing at his boots as he tugs them off. You cross your arms and watch him throw his little tantrum with more concern than actual anger.
"Alright, let's have it." He huffs. You raise a brow.
"Have what?" You don't like his tone, but it's his birthday so you're giving him a pass.
"The party, or whatever you have planned. Give me the details, I'm not doing the surprise thing."
"You hate parties." You remind him.
"And yet here we are," He swipes his hand in front of him. You look around the room.
"Exactly, here we-" You point between the two of you, "-are."
"What?" He frowns, losing a little steam. You screw your mouth to the side, furrow your brow. You're not really sure what he isn't getting.
"You hate parties, why would I throw you a birthday party?" You explain, it doesn't seem that hard to you. Pretty easy to understand actually.
"Then what are we doing?" He asks, suspicion still evident in his voice.
"Nothing," You shrug, "I have today's footie match taped, a bottle of decent bourbon, some cake, and a couple presents. I told Soap and Gaz that we'd be 'trying something new' tonight, so they won't bug us until tomorrow afternoon at the earliest, and I thought we might order pizza, if that's alright with you."
Simon stares at you, and you stare right back. You're not going to be intimidated by a man you know as well as you know yourself. The absolute idiot.
"I might cry," Simon's tone is flat, he's joking.
"Do not cry."
"Where's the cake?" He looks around the room.
"Fridge."
"Are we lighting candles?"
"Only if you want to," You tell him, already scrolling through your usual pizza order on your phone.
"And the presents are-"
"Small, one of them's the bourbon, sorry to spoil the surprise." You smile at him, see his shoulders drop with relief. "It's your day Si, we're doing what you want to do." Another gentle reminder. You wonder what horrors he'd conjured up in his mind that had him picking fights with the whole farm.
"Whatever I want to do?" His eyes spark with excitement. You don't know if you like how quickly he's flipped this switch.
"Whatever you want to do," You agree, trying not to laugh at how relieved your boyfriend seems to barely even be celebrating his birthday.
"Fuck I love you," He breathes, scooping you up into his arms. It's not a big space but his long strides make it feel even smaller. The time between being picked up and being deposited on the bed is barely enough time to submit your pizza order. You figure it's probably best to get that in before Simon gets too singularly motivated.
"Happy birthday," You open your arms for him, holding him tightly when he climbs on top of you and presses your foreheads together.
"Thank you," He tells you with a smile, absolutely genuine.
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