#happy bday to my boy!

[kalineas]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE PRECIOUS CINNAMON ROLL 🥳🤩🎂🎉

One more year with the precious Atsushi sushi <3

Also something that I drew last year but didn't finish on time lol

See the meaning of the flowers under the cut

October flowers:

Marigolds have been linked to optimism and prosperity, cheer and joy, love and strong emotions, wealth and success.

Cosmos have long symbolized order, harmony, and balance. Others believe it is a sign of peace, love, joy, and innocence.

[lloydskywalkers]

September 22 | Happy Birthday, Lloyd Garmadon

[tsuchinokoroyale]

(p)Leather and Lace

[wwapich]

happy birthday ace!! 🎂🔥

[kenchann]

john

[aenslem]

Happy Birthday to SACHA DHAWAN (May 1, 1984)

[fadeintoyou1993]

stebe moments <3 (for the steve to my robin, katya to my trixie, tai to my nat, charlie to my mac @ayoedebiris)

bonus:

[kikker-oma]

A gift for my dearest friend @skyloftian-nutcase ! I promised her I'd draw her a scene from her post " Malice's Stain" when she finished it ❤️

You're AMAZING Lofty! This au hurts me so so much but I love iittt😭😭😭😭

[pablogavira]

♡ Pablo Martin Páez Gavira, born August 5, 2004 ♡

[princesshair]

happy 31st birthday niall! love you ♡

[kirk]

and when his stitch comes loose..

[seiwas]

cw: happy tears and tickle fights, birthday celebrations and other things. unedited sawry. ‼️ FIC SPOILERS PAST THIS PORTION OF THE CONTENT WARNING ‼️ pregnancy.

.

hajime’s birthday this year is different.

you don’t celebrate on the day of, contrary to your tradition of keeping it free no matter what. instead, you decide on the weekend, taking time to prepare his gift while he’s out of town.

the sunday morning starts out slow, a late wake to his usual 5:00 a.m. runs. you shift beside him, turning to snuggle deeper into his hold.

you weren’t able to wait for him last night, any hour past midnight simply impossible for you to keep up with these days.

your breath puffs out in a long exhale, tickling his collarbone.

he pulls you closer when you move, tucking his nose into the crown of your head. it’s something you both do, you’ve noticed—breathing each other in the moment you return to one another.

the celebration today is not lost on you, but you take in these few silent moments with him for just a bit longer.

when he stirs, squeezing you tighter as he mumbles a low ‘morning’, you peer up to kiss his chin. he’s ticklish there, you know, especially when your lips catch on the bits of stubble grown a few days after he shaves.

it takes longer for you both to get out of bed because of that, a tickle fight ensuing as hajime sneakily crawls his fingers up your armpits, blowing raspberries at the spot right below your ears.

you slip into the bathroom that way—a little clumsy and a lot giggly. then you crouch low, opening the cabinet under the sink; hidden in it is your gift for him, a flat rectangle wrapped in kraft paper and a green bow.

it’s the first thing in your agenda today, you’ve decided, unable to wait until he receives it at the end of the day, like you’d originally planned.

hajime’s propped up against the headboard when you step back into your bedroom, blanket scrunched at his hip. you’re no fan of the season’s heat, but you thank god it’s summer, because at least, you’re met with the view of his exposed chest every morning.

he holds an arm out to welcome you back in, letting you rest your legs across his lap as he cradles your back.

“your gift,” you whisper, holding out the wrapped rectangle, “open it first. that’s the first thing on our agenda today.”

he chuckles, taking the soft rectangle from your hands while kissing your temple, “thanks, babe. you didn’t have to.”

you watch eagerly, tucking yourself into his side as you wrap an arm around his waist. he tears through the wrapper but sets aside the bow, knowing you like to recycle them when you have the chance.

hajime is a simple man, and at the sight of his favorite brand of socks, he lights up at the addition of one more to his already-full drawer of them.

he turns to you, about to pepper your face with a bunch of kisses but—

“check the hem, i got something done to it.” you giggle.

he looks confused for a moment before he turns them over, plain white save for the dark green letters running around its ankle garters.

there’s another reason you decided to celebrate his birthday this weekend, on the third sunday of june.

he deciphers the word, reading each letter: p-a-p-a, and you can see the cogs turning in his brain before he immediately whips his head to face you.

“you’re—?”

you nod.

there’s something indescribable in his eyes, emotion welling up as they gloss over dark olive green—it makes you want to cry, too.

damn all these hormones.

“happy birthday, papa.” you sniffle, smiling wide, “and happy father’s day.”

(after a whole lot of tears, and even more kissing, you show hajime the tests you took while he was away. he tells you you should have told him, that he would have come home, but you shake your head.

it’s well worth it, seeing his reaction to two things he can celebrate today.)

[tsukk1]

college boyfriends 🫶🏽 

[yandere-yearnings]

Absume. (Yandere!Best Friend x GN!Reader)

feat. sui's ai

♡ oneshot, approx. 1k words

♡ post-specific warnings: melancholy (?), angst (??), angst w/o happy ending (???)

♡ a/n: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE LOML SUIIIIIII❤️ i did not have as much time on this as i would've liked but no matter, i wasn't gonna exist on suiday w/o a suiday celebration dar style. i present to you ai angst❗❗(it was meant to be fluff but i'm a fucking dumbass who can't write lmao) ai belongs to @suiana and is from her stellar, absolutely fantastic game, Anything Will Do. sui i want you to know you make everything worth it and i wouldn't still be here on tumblr if it weren't for you. all my love to you mwah mwah <333 unedited, not proofread.

♡♡♡

This life was strange to you.

Sometimes it went by so fast, you’d wake up with no recollection of the days passed; staring at the ceiling with open eyes. It’s the same crack in the paint that had always been there, long and thin and unnoticeable if it weren’t for the fact you sought it out unconsciously. You remembered it, even if you didn’t remember crawling into bed that night, or having dinner at the table, and what exactly it was that your mother fussed over. 

There was a growing emptiness since you first noticed. No matter what you did, or how many people you were surrounded by, inside of you something was caving in. You didn’t know who you were. You didn’t know your place in this world without landmarking it by your achievements — and yet, when you looked back, there were none. How had you gone on so long? What had you been doing all this time?

Perhaps you lived in your head a little too much. Everything could be a little lighter if only you’d let it be. Sweeping every thought aside, you rolled, trapped your arm under your own weight and looked at your reflection in your mirrored bedside table. You were as you had always been. This was you, and this — whatever it was — was yours.

Lukewarm air, no temperature gradient, it should’ve made it easier for you to leave your bed, but you stayed there some long minutes before moving. Your clock was broken. Not conventionally. It only moved by the hour. Time was yours and you could waste it. There was security in the feeling that you had a choice to not start your day.

Morning, mundane as always, slathered you in its hues. Washed browns jittery under your feet, like there was no ground beneath you from wood to tile. The bathroom mirror had your fingerprints. You’d touched it many a time. Left a mark. This too, belonged to you. You could no longer believe this wasn’t real. Maybe it was that you were sensationless at your soles, treading carefully over loosely carpeted steps, trying to feel the tickle of those familiar fibres. When had you lost it all?

Your mother was in the kitchen, you don’t remember a time when she wasn't. It’s as if she can’t leave this lower floor, like she cannot rest, like her duties do not end. The door to her room never opens or closes, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen her without that plaid apron. She never notices you unless you speak to her. She never says anything different.

At the table it’s fruit, and it tastes like nothing. No texture, nothing to chew. It feels like you’re eating air. Play-pretend at a plastic table with a plastic knife and fork. You’re young again and your sister ropes you into her fake kitchen. You don’t have a sister. Not here, at least.

There’s a knock at your front door. It’s light, like the person on the other side is afraid to be heard, but wants your attention still. When you open it, there he stands — the only thing in this world that you can reach out and touch, that thrummed beneath your fingertips, as alive as you were desperate to feel.

Ai takes your hand, and the breeze picks up just like that. Ever so easy. You watch your feet and every step they take to the pavement, nothing skips; you can commit it to memory. He’s speaking to you but you can’t hear the words just yet, there is only wind and the rustle of leaves. His hair billows, bleeds out heavy cyprus that blends into the backdrop of trees. He has always given you these beautiful bits of him, and you had let yourself go blind.

Letting go was something you should’ve done long, long ago, but you guessed he was your comfort. Solace. A shelter you could run to. Leaving never felt right, not when you knew he’d stay waiting. Ai told you once, he loved you beyond all of this. Outside the street lights would flicker, and in the flashes it was his face illuminated, tucking you in after a dreary day. You could never hold onto those scenes, in your mind they were fragmented, and you forgot about them as quick as they came. If you asked him why, you knew he’d tell you that this was the price, whether either of you could pay it, whether either of you could even endure it anymore.

On a deep inhale, you finally resolved that it was no fairer to him as you found it was to you, that now was the only right time. Now would be the only time you’d have him by your side like this again. This moment alone, he was real and he would not slip through your fingers.

You had set out for school, but with your textbooks weighing what your heart could not, you had no intention of going there with him. Instead these empty streets faded, and quickly noon set over the park you ended up at. The swings did not creak, but they were old. You wondered how they could carry the two of you — you and Ai, and everything you’d both been piling up inside. 

Back and forth you went, here and in your head, trying to find the words to say you don’t think you could do this anymore. If you said sorry, would it make him mad? His due returns weren’t meant to be apologies. You were meant to fill him up just as he had done for you, you were meant to make everything worth it, every sacrifice, every stilted interaction from the day you understood that you were losing him. It was meant to get better. All this was meant to pass. Your mind was blank, and you were waiting for something but your clock was still broken, so nothing would ever come. You wanted to say I love you. You wanted those to at least be your final words — you just didn’t know how.

Ai was kind to you. He had always been. So he took your head in his hands, didn’t cry a single tear though it should’ve gone with that smile, and made the cut clean.

He said: “anything will do.”

[fufo-4]

0715

[neatnete]