Jason can’t believe that he nearly forgot your birthday. He’d been cursing himself all morning for it. But fortunately he had enough time to try and make you a cake, what with his obviously supreme baking skills.

..Not.

When you wake up, Jason is waiting in the kitchen. Something that kind of resembles a cake is sitting on the counter in front of him. It only looks like a cake because it’s just lathered in a very messy frosting job, and on the top of it is writing in red frosting that only says “Happy Birthd” because he ran out halfway through. He had tried to cover it up in sprinkles, but that just made it look like a unicorn had exploded on it or something.

And to top it all off, instead of a candle, there was a little plastic piece stuck in the top of it that said ”Fuck, you’re old.” He thought it was pretty funny when he saw it, and he hoped that would make up for the shit show the cake itself had turned out to be.

“Happy birthday,” he says when you walk out of your shared bedroom, offering you a smile he thinks is charming. “Hope you like cake for breakfast, ‘cause that’s what we’ve got.”