#German Chocolate Cake Day

[punkbakerchristine]

made one of my mom’s favorites for mother’s day 🍰🌷

#german chocolate cake #cake #chocolate cake #sweet stuff #amateur baking #baking #baked goods #bakers gonna bake #bakers of tumblr #mine #happy mother's day

[doctorfriend79]

😋  Happy National German Chocolate Cake Day!  😋

#National German Chocolate Cake Day #German Chocolate Cake #Photography

[bakerstable]

German Chocolate Brownies

#german chocolate cake #brownies #brownie #chocolate brownies #desserts #dessert #dessert recipes #valentine's day #chocolate #dark chocolate #food #foodie #food photography #baked goods #sweets #baking #bakertable

[murderousink23]

6/11/2022 is World Jaguar Day, National Rosé Day, National Corn on the Cob Day, National German Chocolate Cake Day, World Gin Day, Queen's Birthday.

#jaguar #rosé wine #corn on the cob #german chocolate cake #world gin day 2022 #queen's birthday

[un-tide]

no eating after 9 pm save me

save me no eating after 9 pm

#the other day my acid reflux was so bad I felt like I was being stabbed #it seems to be working so far but what is one to do after 9 pm but snack #literally just bought Chinese strawberry cakes and German chocolate

[mizakikimoto]

Over here helping my mother kiss her coworkers' butts.

Excuse my language.

I typed "ass" at first. I don't like to swear.

I feel like hardcore crap. I'm overdue for space. Decades overdue.

I don't do drugs. I don't drink alcohol. So...I'm gonna drink a Pepsi at 9-something PM.

-Chris

#Chicago #Strawberries #German chocolate cake #Valentine's day

[ami-ven]

Happy National German Chocolate Cake Day!

#national german chocolate cake day #german chocolate cake #fun fact #this was not invented in germany #but in america #by mr. german #and it's named after him #not the country #national days of stuff #holiday

[nationaldaycalendar]

June 11, 2022 - NATIONAL OUTLET SHOPPING DAY - NATIONAL MAKING LIFE BEAUTIFUL DAY – NATIONAL ROSÉ DAY – NATIONAL CORN ON THE COB DAY – NATIONAL GERMAN CHOCOLATE CAKE DAY

June 11, 2022 – NATIONAL OUTLET SHOPPING DAY – NATIONAL MAKING LIFE BEAUTIFUL DAY – NATIONAL ROSÉ DAY – NATIONAL CORN ON THE COB DAY – NATIONAL GERMAN CHOCOLATE CAKE DAY

JUNE 11, 2022 | NATIONAL OUTLET SHOPPING DAY | NATIONAL MAKING LIFE BEAUTIFUL DAY | NATIONAL ROSÉ DAY | NATIONAL CORN ON THE COB DAY | NATIONAL GERMAN CHOCOLATE CAKE DAY NATIONAL OUTLET SHOPPING DAY™ The second Saturday in June will annually celebrate National Outlet Shopping Day. This shopping holiday is shaking up the retail landscape starting this summer at outlet centers across North America.…

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#dry #holiday #June 11 #National Corn on the Cob Day #National German Chocolate Cake Day #National Making Life Beautiful Day #National Outlet Shopping Day #National Rosé Day #Picnic #relationships #retail #season #success #Summer #Sweet #Wine

[bullet-clubs-bitch]

The Best Present

An: Today is Kenny’s birthday so of course I had to write something!

(Kenny Is referred to as Tyson)

Summary: Spending Tyson’s 40th  birthday with fem reader and their 1 year old daughter Violet!

Word count: 682

Tyson hated his birthday. Every year was the same, he didn’t want a party but I would convince him and of course he would have a good time. This year however was a special year, this year Tyson would be turning 40 and I knew that terrified him. I tried to plan a big party with all of our friends and family but of course Ty hated the idea. So we would celebrate his big day with just the two of us and our one year old daughter Violet  until Wednesday when we would go out to dinner after dynamite with friends to celebrate. 

I didn’t quite understand why he didn’t like to celebrate his birthday, I know most people don’t like their birthday but Tyson was different. It was almost like he was embarrassed of it. 

I woke up bright and early and started working on a cake for Ty. His only request each year was for me to make him a german chocolate cake and let him sleep in. This would mark the 10th german chocolate cake I would make for his special day and each year it seemed to get more special. Tyson claimed to love my cake, I thought he was just lying at first, since my baking skills can be questionable at times but 10 years of the exact same cake would say otherwise. Unless he is just extremely committed to the lie. 

After I put the cake in the oven I decided to make a nice breakfast as I waited for Tyson to wake up. As if on cue, he came downstairs right as I finished setting the table. You could tell that he was exhausted but nonetheless he still looked just as handsome. 

“Good morning birthday boy!” I said in a gentle tone, embracing him in a hug

“Good morning” He replied half asleep. “Did you do this for me?” Tyson asked, looking towards the feast laid out on the table. 

“Of course, anything for you my love” I said as I placed a kiss on his cheek. I turned to grab a fresh cup of coffee to give Tyson but it was almost like he vanished into thin air. Not thinking too much about it, I went back to preparing things in the kitchen until I heard noise coming from the baby monitor. I quickly realized that it was Tyson, who seemed to be talking with Violet. 

“Hi, my angel. I hope you had an amazing sleep” Everynow and then I would catch Ty talking with Violet and it always made me smile. Just then I heard Violet say “Birthday”, it wasn’t perfect but she definitely said it. I was internally high fiving myself, I had spent weeks trying to teach her the word for Tyson’s big day. 

“Yeah, it is my birthday. You are so smart Violet” I could hear his voice crack a bit as he spoke.  

“I must say you are the best present. I wish I had you years ago, I don’t know what I would have done without you Violet” I could hear his voice start to tremble as he spoke and I could feel my throat start to get dry. 

“Come on Violet, let’s go see Mom before she starts to wonder where we are” I could hear them start to make their way back to the kitchen so I ran back to the table, pretending that I didn’t hear the whole conversation. 

“There you are, good morning Violet!” I said as I approached the pair, giving them both a hug and kiss. “Who’s ready for some breakfast?” I asked as I took Violet from Tyson, putting her in her high chair. 

“Y/n?” 

“Yeah?”

“Thank you” Tyson said, as he held me in a tight embrace 

“For what?” I asked, playing dumb

“For everything, I really don’t deserve any of this”

“Yes you do, stop saying that alright. I love you so much, okay. Like a ridiculously amount alright. And I will continue to love you for the rest of my life Tyson!” 

“Y/n?” 

“Yeah?”

“I think I want to have another baby with you” 

“What?”

#bullet clubs bitch #aew smut #all elite wrestling #aew #aew fanfiction #the elite #kenny omega #kenny omega x reader #kenny omega imagine #kenny omega fanfiction #kenny the cleaner #kenny omega fluff #kenny x reader #kenny omega smut #kenny omega aew #kenny omega masterlist

[athanasius-symposium-of-writings]

Comfort fic i wrote awhile ago (and need it rn ;w;) inspired by a convo w a friend in the server awhile back

Rated T | Warning: reader is a perfectionist and depression, anxiety, lack of sleep

“You need to sleep,” The maestro standing above you as he has literally dragged you from the study where you were starting to make small mistakes in your practice, he gave you a cut-off time and left to go get the wine he ordered for tomorrow after your performance but when he returned he found barely able to stand up straight and you making novice level mistakes.

“I need to get the last part right, something is missing!” You have been close to him like this before, both intimately, and just because you are rooming together so you are not blushing and shy, you are annoyed he stopped you! He leans over enough to hold himself up with one arm against the wall and his legs between yours giving you no room to escape him. “Please, maestro, I’m going to fail you.”

You must be delirious from lack of sleep these days, so focus on perfection and admit to not wanting to disappoint him. He is not your father, nor that joke of an instructor. No, he is your friend and maestro, currently, he is putting his weight on top of holding you close.

“Antonio!” Struggling, more like a baby fighting to sleep, before you give up and lay there, “Antonio.” His warmth and weight are soothing even though you want to go back to trying to fix your mistakes… You are so tired.

He hums a tune, one of the songs you first heard him play when he was drunk playing on the streets.

Paganini turns his body with you to have you both on your side, his nimble fingers rubbing your neck and back to ease the tension until you are completely relaxed.

The performance is beautiful, as to be expected as one trained by Antiono Paganini says your mother.

You say nothing, you only smile and give small replies to small conversations. The after party is making you nauseous and Antiono is talking to your mother.

You hide outside the rented space in the gardens, you need to breathe and your hand touches the cold water in the water fountain in the middle of the garden.

The music is distant, a buzz that lingers but far enough to settle yourself. 

You sit on the edge of the fountain looking at the ground, touching your wetting hand, then shoes come to your view.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Antonio is there with a small plate with a slice of German chocolate cake he snuck out here for you.

“I messed up the ending of the solo.”

“You did fine, (Name).

You take the small dish but do not eat right away, “Only fine.” 

“Experience will teach you more as you perform.” The violinist moves and sits beside you, “You have been hard on yourself as of late.”

“You aren't hard enough on me, maestro!” Upset, “That was embarrassing! I embarrassed you…” Yelling at him as you drop the plate as you turn your body toward him and grab him by his shoulders. “I have to be perfect. Like you. Like father—” Head down as you start tearing up, “I'm sorry, Antonio.” Pulling your hands away regretting the outburst.

The Violinist pulls you into his arms, squeezing you in his embrace, you make a sound of surprise before breaking down.

The party goes on, it was never really for you but for your mother to claim she supports you unlike your father. A way to gain favor with a rising star.

The royal orchestra sent you a letter inviting you to join them… You are nervous, Antonio seemed uneasy as he had been the one to read you the letter.

“You are a great violinist, (Name). A great musician in fact.” As you play other instruments in an attempt to be an all-rounder in the field of music. “I can tell you this but you have to believe in yourself as well.”

You nod in his chest, “Antonio,” Taking a deep breath, “Can we go home?”

“Of course, alunno.” The violinist lets go of you as you gather yourself and take a deep breath and fan your heated face.

“Thank you, maestro. For everything.”

#idv #reader insert #idv violinist #idv antonio #identity v x reader #identity v #idv x you #idv x reader #antonio x reader #antonio x you #violinist x you #violinist x reader #antonio paganini #identity v x you #idv reader insert #the violinist #identity v violinist

[kiwisa]

shirt ✩ jb22

Jude Bellingham x Fem! Girlfriend! Reader

fluff • 1,000 words

IN WHICH... all sunday mornings should be spent like this.

It was the birdsong that woke you up this morning. A sound so pleasing to the ear, discordant of the constant but characteristic hubbub of the German city. A moment of sweetness enough to brighten up your just-begun day. Contrary to you, Dortmund had been awake for a long time, with its buildings lit by the sun ⏤ at its highest point in the sky ⏤ and the shoes of people from all social backgrounds treading the tarred ground.

You knew the sounds of the city by heart, having been exposed to them since your childhood. In a sense, these sounds had helped to become the person you were today. They had rocked you, accompanied you in every event. The horns, the words blurred by the laughters and the arguments… This familiarity was the reason for your happiness, revealing a smile on your face, puffy from sleep.

It took you several seconds to completely open your eyes. The warmth of the sheets enveloping you made this ordeal more difficult than it already was. Sleep was a mischievous fighter, especially when it came to getting you back into it. Morpheus's arms were ready to envelop you, his fingers gently touching your skull, but they retracted when an unceasing ringing sound was heard.

Looking up at the sky, you rolled towards your nightstand, tapping harshly against the screen of your phone.

Setting up an alarm on a Sunday morning was a mistake, you thought; eyes staring blankly at the ceiling filled with cracked paint.

A sigh echoed in the room. Of all the cravings and needs that could be found in your body right now, getting up was not one of them. You could already feel the cold air, ready to wrap around your skin when you would dare to part with your white cocoon.

A pout appeared on your face when, rolling in the sheets towards the opposite side, emptiness greeted you. Frowning, your fingers touched the now cold pillow, but from which a familiar scent still emanated. Your ajar eyes swept through the room, noticing the absence of slippers on the floor or the blue sweater that had been thrown unceremoniously against a chair the day before.

In this room, though, one thing detonated: the white color of a shirt, placed delicately on the back of the same chair that had hosted the sweater. Placing one foot, then the other on the ground, your toes retracted when feeling the coldness of the floorboards. Your hair was quickly tied up, your slippers put on. All this without ever diverting your gaze from the white shirt, which you quickly put on. Rocked by this sweet, masculine smell, it was with a smile that you headed for the kitchen.

There, a man sat. Busy eating his cereal, he did not realized your presence. Taking this opportunity granted by calmness, you stood for a few moments at the doorstep, arms crossed, admiring the candid beauty of the one who would make your heart beat a little harder each time. He was a masterpiece, a painting from which no one could looked away so much his beauty mesmerized.

You could have stayed like this for hours, it wouldn't have bothered you; quite the opposite actually. However, your appetite won over your heart, but before giving in to temptation — aka the piece of cake you had bought at the bakery the day before — you could not bring yourself to forget your routine.

It was with delicacy ⏤ not to frighten him ⏤ that your arms surrounded Jude's neck, before placing a kiss on his forehead. Automatically, he leaned back towards you, his head resting on your belly, his round eyes sparkling and now looking upwards. Your fingers stroked his recently cut hair ⏤ a shame, really.

He closed his eyes to this touch, an expression of pure relaxation on his face, until a sound of indignation passed his lips when you walked away, determined to claim your due; the smell of chocolate was already reaching your nostrils.

“You're wearing my shirt.”

It was not a question but a statement. You turned towards him at hearing his sleepy and deep voice, cheeks filled with chocolate, eyes widened. Observing the only garment covering your body, the shirt ⏤ which you were in fact wearing ⏤ you raised an eyebrow in his direction.

Suspicious, you watched him walk towards you slowly. You swallowed the chocolate bite.

“What?”

A smile that made him look almost stupid was decorating his face, illuminating the latter entirely. He looked like a child who had just been given a gift. A gift that, in this case, consisted of your own person if you judged his loving gaze.

Ignoring your complaints — did he just really take your cake? — his arms surrounded your waist, gently pressing you against him. At your synchronized breaths and 'heart against heart' moment, red went up to your cheeks. Really, you could never get tired of Jude Bellingham’s beauty. Of course, the features of his face were perfectly tuned, a master's work — blessed be his parents — but it was his kindness, his big heart, and his tenderness that made him magnificent.

“You're cute.”

There it was, that smile; so big it could light up the darkest souls.

“Are you trying to flirt with me, Bellingham?”

“Maybe I am. And what about it?”

Catching one of your hands, he looked at it for a few moments before placing a series of kisses there. No patch of skin was spared. Laughing, you got out of his grip to stand on tiptoe, your arms wrapping around his neck. Almost instantly, like second nature to him, his hands landed on your hips. Your two faces only separated by a few centimeters, your lips brushed against one another.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

#jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham fanfic #football x reader #football imagine #football fanfic #football one shot #jude bellingham fluff

[digitalstowaway]

I think the Edgeworths ate like any other family. I think Gregory packed Miles simple lunches with off-brand food because brand name is a little too pricy. I think at dinner time, Gregory brought home bags of something that was cheap and quick and hot because his son deserves hot meals and he just does not have the energy to cook.

And then Miles start eating food he can't pronounce--all from different countries he barely knows. It's well-prepared, but he never sees anyone cook. His lunches are neatly made with proper food groups. Vegetables and cheeses that hurt his tummy and cold bread and desserts that are too sweet.

He misses hot meals and fried spam and salty noodles. The beeping rice maker. Tea before bed instead of the glass of milk von Karma's staff makes him drink even though he keeps saying it makes him feel sick.

But eventually. He forgets it. He gets older. He finds preference in French-inspired cuisine and dishes native to Germany. He gets caught sneaking into the kitchen to get to German chocolate cake. There are some happy memories of almost befriending other boys and getting kebabs after school with them.

When he settles back into America, he doesn't pick up any of the food he grew up with even though it's all around him. LA grocery stores are full of it. Street vendors. Restaurants. Many of them are Japanese-American, but he's become a stranger to his own diaspora, and it's the strangest feeling.

And then he's 22 and tired and it's going on midnight. A case has taken him out of the city for a full day. He sits in the passenger seat of Gumshoe's car, aching and silent.

Gumshoe pulls over at a late-night restaurant, a little hole in the wall run by a family. Miles drags his feet. The lights are too bright. The menu items are faded.

And, ashamed, he doesn't remember the items listed as he once did.

Gumshoe tells him to sit, find them a table. They're the only two in there. Miles sits in a booth with a table that looks less than clean. His stomach hurts he's so hungry. He feels sick. He knows that that must be why Gumshoe insisted on stopping.

Gumshoe joins him and then a young girl puts two bowls of udon in front of them.

Miles had forgotten the thick noodles. The hot broth. The fishiness. He tries eating as he's been taught is polite, but muscle memory takes over. He puts the end of the noodles in his mouth and slurps.

He feels warm at the bottom of the bowl.

They share dorayaki, and Miles feels almost too full, but he lets bean paste sit on his tongue, mushes it against the roof of his mouth like he used to.

Gumshoe pays, and Miles gets back in the car. He less tired and more drowsy. There's still 30 minutes left of the drive, and Miles doses for a few of those.

He stumbles inside his house and collapses into bed, into warm sheets. And it feels like, with sweetness still on his lips and warmth still in belly, that his father is just across the hall.

#ace attorney #gregory edgeworth #miles edgeworth #food can heal okay

[marinlupin]

some random head cannons i have for the marauder characters, but it’s not random i actually believe these whole heartedly! and will cry if told otherwise that they aren’t true.

regulus:

regulus goes by he/they

regulus has ocd, but doesn’t care to fix it and kind of likes the discipline because they feels like he needs it/deserves it

regulus absolutely loves the rain

ballet is the only thing that they like that his mother put him in.

disassociates a lot to the point you have to get their attention a lot.

they forget to share their thoughts and experiences a lot because his parents never really asked, and since sirius left they just don’t see a point.

cat person

they love kids actually, but is very awkward with them, but if he evens smiles at one they’re automatically that kid’s favorite person

marlene:

where’s different socks, doesn’t care kind of likes if they’re mismatched

emotional support necklace

lesbian

german roots

loves braiding her hair

loves cheerios

knows sign language

hates wearing bras

james:

deaf james

he reads often, that’s how he actually got close to remus, and they exchanged book recs and whenever someone is shocked by this news he just shrugs.

chocolate cake kinda guy

he actually smokes (i don’t get the whole james doesn’t smoke cause 🤨😧? anyways)

loves ear piercings

dated sirius for a couple months, but they both decided they’re better off as best friends (moe not hating romantic prongsfoot?? shocker! (not really) anyways)

dorcas:

she collects bottle caps

is a cigarettes after sex song

favorite class is potions

is a ravenclaw, but almost got into slytherin

remus:

wears red nail polish

is really fucking awkward

is the it boy for hogwarts, and genuinely gets shocked by this news when mary and lily tell him this

uses a cain/walker a couple days before the moon and about the first week after

you wouldn’t think his space is organized, but if you asked him to get something specifically to see he could easily in a matter of 2 seconds grab it for you

can sleep anywhere

has a bag he carries around everywhere and since first year his friends have been decorating it

nightmares frequently

this boy has really bad anxiety to the point he steals some fidget toys from regulus

anger issues

to the contrary of popular belief his first best friend was regulus.

mary:

sleeps with a stuffed turtle

is an older sister to one sister

has older sister guilt, but feels the pressure of one frequently

likes gossiping, but not as much as people think

she’s actually really smart, but her mental health gets in the way

hates being alone

has a sibling relationship with sirius and james

fast talker

she doesn’t trust easily, but she’s so outgoing to the point it seems like it

I HAVE SO MUCH MORE FOR THESE PEOPLE AND CHARACTERS I JUST DONT FEEL LIKE PUTTING THEM ALL BUT YEAH

#marauders #ao3 author #marauders fandom #marauders era #regulus black #james potter #jegulus #remus lupin #wolfstar #dead gay wizards #mary macdonald #sirius black #marlene mckinnon #headcanon #dead gay witches

[bokettochild]

why is cake better cold?

I made a triple layer German Chocolate cake with coconut frosting for the host of my weekly get together (the grandma of the group founders) because it was her Birthday on Friday, so we planned a mini party for her that saturday at our normal time

She asked me to take some of the leftovers of the cake home, knowing my sister might want some

Eating it was hard when it was still a bit warm, but after being in the fridge for two days (the frosting has egg? for some reason?) it's the best darn thing ever?

like, food is a challenge to consume today, but this? heaven! not nearly as overwhelming as most of my other safe foods have been!

#cake #food

[murderousink23]

06/11/2023 is Father's Day 👨‍👩‍👧👪👨‍👩‍👧🌏, World Jaguar Day 🐆🌏, Eastern Orthodox All Saints Day ☦🌏, National Corn on the Cob Day 🌽🇺🇲, National German Chocolate Cake Day 🇺🇲

#father's day #world jaguar day #eastern orthodox all saints day #national corn on the cob day #national german chocolate cake day

[dr-trafalgar-law]

Trafalgar Law X CisFem Reader

11

Every nine inch round pan you owned was out on the counter. Four perfectly iced cakes sat on the kitchen table. Each one a different flavor profile, different style of icing, different color. You were focused at what little space was left on the counter working a marshmallow buttercream with your favorite offset spatula over the fifth and final cake.

"We've talked about bringing work home with you." you were so absorbed in the cake you didn't hear your fiance get home.

"Ha-ha." you murmured back, turning as he entered the kitchen, "It's not for work."

His tired eyes scanned the room as realization settled in

"Oh, no." his gaze finally landed on you, "We talked about this too, F/N-ya."

"I just need help choosing," you gave him your best pout, "please?"

"I don't eat cake." he deadpanned.

"You haven't even tried. Just a taste?"

"Isn't this a waste, if you're just tasting them?"

"We're." you corrected, "And I can sell single slices at the shop."

He watched you add the newly finished cake to the table and then start to rearrange them by flavor. The small smile on your face as you concentrated and hummed tugged at him. It was very apparent that this was something that made you happy.

Who was he to deny you that?

Even with all of the trouble the two of you had - the thought of upsetting you stung.

He was starting to hate this feeling a little less.

"You're mad?" your pouting voice broke his train of thought.

He blinked realizing he'd been staring,"No-not at all. Give me a moment to change and we can tackle this."

The smile you responded with was unfair. Not only that, it was incredibly rare. In your short arranged relationship he'd only seen that smile twice. This was the first time it was directed at him and he didn't know what to do with that. For him to be the source of an expression that was so pure and joyful? He never thought he'd see the day - he never knew he wanted to. 

You continued to cut and plate the cakes while Law dipped out to change. He returned wearing tapered black sweats and a navy slim-fit long sleeved shirt.

"So, why are there so many?" he sounded more amused than annoyed as he took a seat.

"I can't pick a flavor and I want to narrow it down. Also this cake is representing us, so it should be something we like."

His eyes followed your movements as he tried desperately to not react to what you'd just said. How were you suddenly being so nonchalant about everything?

That probably wasn't quite the right term for it. After meeting Rocinante and exchanging numbers, Law noticed a shift. He wouldn't go as far as to say you were excited about planning - but you definitely weren't as disinterested as you had been.

"Ok… we've got -" you began pointing at the cakes while naming them, "lemon cake with a blueberry compote and lemonade buttercream, strawberry shortcake with a whipped marshmallow buttercream - my personal favorite, raspberry white chocolate with a cream cheese frosting, classic vanilla bean with a vanilla bourbon swiss buttercream, and finally double chocolate with an American buttercream." you hummed, "We could do a German chocolate cake I guess. The caramel is good but people can be weird about the coconut."

"I can see why there are so many now." your fiance murmured, "You don't have to keep adding to the list F/N. Why don't we just pick the one that's your favorite?"

"Maybe it's stupid, but it's important to me that we choose it together and not just because I like it." you looked up at him with big doe eyes.

He had to be sure you were never made aware of how dangerous your facial expressions were.

"Alright, let's get this started then. We'll save the strawberry for last." he reluctantly pulled the vanilla cake toward himself.

You let out a short laugh, "You don't have to look so upset. If you absolutely can't handle the cake then I'll just choose on my own. Also, I made you some onigiri for after."

"Thanks." he mumbled picking up his fork.

Your hopeful gaze was absolutely crushing him. He knew he'd feel guilty if he truly didn't like it. But he had never actually had cake that he could remember. He just knew the ingredients could be similar to bread which he didn't find appealing. Desserts weren't something he needed or really craved either.

How he managed to be paired with a pastry chef was beyond him.

The fork slid through the cake with ease. He took a deep breath before closing his eyes and taking the first terrifying bite.

You looked on with amusement. This fully grown man with a full medical degree was eating a slice of cake the way a six-year-old would eat green beans. You were surprised that he didn't gag.

Law was surprised to find nothing about this unpleasant. The texture of the cake was a little like bread but moist - not off putting as he had expected. The frosting was smooth and balanced.

"Be honest," you said, taking a bite for yourself.

He paused for a moment in thought, "Maybe a bit too sweet? I… don't hate it." a small simper tugged at his lips.

You nodded, taking mental note,"Maybe something tart would be better for you?"

The tasting moved on like this. Law was less reluctant with every slice. Each time he gave an honest critique. He liked the juxtapose of the tart lemon and sweet blueberries, but the lemonade frosting didn't land the way you'd hoped. The double chocolate was too rich, he wasn't a fan of chocolate really anyway. So far the raspberry white chocolate was his favorite.

"I'm so glad this is the last one." he sighed, "I'm not sure I can take much more."

"I'm sorry for torturing you, you poor baby." you chuckled, moving the final piece between you.

Last but not least was the strawberry shortcake. The way you had layered the slices of strawberries between the layers of cake was like something he'd seen on TV. It was more dense and as he examined the piece on his fork there were bits of green. Mint? The sponge also seemed to be soaked in pink liquid. You watched him as you were already on your second bite, wondering what he was analyzing so hard. Finally he ate it and hummed.

He hummed!

Not his usual incredulous tone.

He sounded surprised.

And he was… pleasantly.

The strawberries were sweet and tart, the cake was buttery, the marshmallow was light and just sweet enough but it all came together with the floral hint of basil - not mint.

Your eyes widened as he took a second bite.

"This one." he placed his fork on the half empty plate.

"You like it?" you asked standing with more energy than he could recall ever experiencing with you.

"I really do, as much as I hate to admit defeat," he chuckled,"this wasn't so bad."

You couldn't contain your excitement. Having Law like the food you made him always made you feel good, even when things were rough. But this felt almost like you'd won a Michelin star.

In your little celebration you'd moved forward and wrapped your arms around his neck. Law let out a surprised "oof" and hugged you back. This was the first time you had ever hugged him. Realizing you were basically in his lap, you pulled away slowly, the apology dying on your lips as he caught your gaze.

Had his eyes always had that little swirl of gold? How had you never noticed how beautiful they were? For a moment you just quietly stared at each other while the air around you shifted. As Law's left hand came up to wipe some frosting from your cheek the doorbell rang sending you to your feet. 

"I-I'll get it."

You could have just combusted on the spot. Quickly you straightened yourself up as you opened the door.

A young pink haired man stood next to a taller blonde. They both wore black suits and trench coats.

The younger man looked at you with a soft cordial smile, "Miss F/N L/N, we're with The NWO. We've got a few questions for you if you have the time."

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