#HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY KINGGGG

[gardenofnoah]

still thinking about office au so

as proud of him as you are, you miss the days where you could spend kento’s birthday with him in the comfort of your home.

now that he’s climbed a good bit of the ladder, it’s more of a production. his assistant (bless them, their intentions were good) has organized a company-wide get together to honor the day every year for the last few years—one that you and Kento attend dutifully. you feel guilty for treating it like a chore—after all, it’s for the man that you love—but it always has a tendency to morph into something of a pseudo business meeting that you then have to sit through. the premise really is sweet, in an odd, corporate sort of way—and usually it goes off without a hitch, aside from your less than enthusiastic feelings about it.

except for today.

kento’s been tense all day—jaw set with such severity that you worry he may crack a tooth. he’s not otherwise acted any different, but when you know someone as intimately as you know him, you can tell that something is off.

he’s helping you zip your dress in front of the mirror when you speak up.

“ken?”

“yes, my love.”

“what if we just…didn’t go?”

there’s a pause—he eyes you in the reflection like he’s not sure if you’re testing him—and then you watch him deflate.

“oh thank fuck,” he breathes, crowding your space and dropping his head to your shoulder. it’s so unlike him that it startles a laugh out of you.

“kento!”

“i dread this every year,” he murmurs into the fabric of your dress, quiet—like it’s a secret only you should know. you hum, reaching up to catch his blond strands between your fingers. it didn’t matter if you messed it up now.

“so why do we go every year?”

“it would reflect poorly on me if i didn’t go,” he sighs, shaking his head where it rests in the crook of your neck, “and i know that you enjoy it—“

you pull back from him—spinning to grab his shoulders and push him back so you can look him in the eye.

“kento,” you say quietly, “i hate going.”

he only blinks at you for a moment, and then—

“have i ever told you how much i love you?”

your laugh echoes in the confines of your bedroom and it pulls a small smile from him. he reaches to brush a strand of hair from your face.

“you look beautiful,” his mild demeanor comes back. you soften.

“can we change and order take out?”

he chuckles and pulls you in, wrapping his arms around your head. you nuzzle in to him, wishing the fabric of his suit was softer like that of his old sweatshirt. you press a kiss to his sternum.

“happy birthday, ken.”

he hums, bending to kiss the crown of your head. “you’ve certainly made it one.”

[dwllny]

HAPPPY BIRTHDAY TECHNOBLADE!!

[if-i-can-dream-of-elvis]

Happy birthday, #Elvis! 🎈 [x]