happy birfday

welcome to this blog! if you're dany, you're in the right place. if you're anyone else, sorry, but go elsewhere! this is a place where i write memes and drabbles and that kind of thing for my bud dany for sorts of characters we've played/play. all memes all moodboards all manips find by ship

[happybirthdaydany]

[happybirthdaydany]

[happybirthdaydany]

[happybirthdaydany]

[happybirthdaydany]

[happybirthdaydany]

[happybirthdaydany]

[happybirthdaydany]

♫

Should I try to hide The way I feel inside My heart for you? Would you say that you Would try to love me too? In your mind Could you ever be Really close to me? I can tell the way you smile If I feel that I Could be certain then I would say the things I want to say tonight

The Way I Feel Inside - The Zombies

"Amy,

It’s me, E.G. You could probably guess that by the name on the envelope. Sorry, I’m not really good at writing letters. Words have never been my thing. I’m more of an actions guy. Or at least, that’s what I’ve always liked to think, but it’s not true, not really. If I was actually a man of action, I would’ve written a letter like this a long, long time ago.

You’ve always been one of my best friends. The best friend I’ve ever had that I wasn’t raised with, hands down. I can still remember the first time we met; I’d just been called over to your castle by your parents to teach you how to dance. It was my first time giving someone lessons and I was just as nervous as you were even if you didn’t know it. I walked away from the session and I knew right away that you were someone I wanted to see again. 

I never get tired of being around you. You make me smile like nobody else does. I think you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen in my life, and the truth is that you’ve never gotten too great at dancing, but I’m so grateful that you haven’t because it means I get to be around you. I made my peace a long time ago with the idea that the only time I’d have my arms around you are when we dance, because you’re a princess and I’m just me, and that’s okay. Being your friend is one of the best things in my life. I’d be greedy to ask for more, so I never have, and I figured if it was something you ever wanted, you’d say so.

The only thing scarier than telling your princess-best-friend that you’ve been in love with her for years now is the idea that you’d never get to tell her. Maybe it’s selish to think about myself with what happened with the Bjorgman sisters, but at the lantern tribute, all I could think about was what if you were in that car. Death doesn’t care if you’re a princess or a stripper. Life is short and if we don’t say what we feel, we make it shorter. So here I am, saying it. 

I’m in love with you, Amy. I know we’re not in the same league, I know I’d make a terrible prince, and I know that your new friends would probably think this was ridiculous, but I love you anyway. I’ve always had this image of dancing with you at your wedding to some handsome, perfect prince who deserves you. I’d hold you extra tight, knowing it’d be the last time I’d probably ever get to dance with you, and I’d wish with all my fucking might that the song would never end. It would inevitably end though, and he’d come take you away, and that’d be it.

I’m not letting that scenario come true without trying though. So here I am, trying. You know how I feel. Maybe you’ve always known how I feel, maybe you didn’t, but now you know. And I hope it’s not the most awkward thing in the world to know. I hope it’s more than ‘not awkward’. I hope you feel the same way. 

If you don’t, that’s fine. I understand. You don’t have to feel the same way, and if you don’t, just pretend this letter never happened, okay? I’ll get the hint, I’ll get over it eventually, I’ll have my last dance with you at your wedding to the perfect guy who isn’t me, and I’ll be your friend for as long as you want me. Unless you don’t even want to be my friend after this. That would suck, but I’d get it, because being friends with a dude who loves you quietly might be kind of awkward. I promise to make it as non-awkward as possible. I’ll act like my feelings don’t exist. I’m good at it. So if you don’t feel the same way, just never mention this, and it dies here. I mean it.

If you feel the same way, or think you might want to give it a try, you know where to find me. I think that’s it. Thanks for reading. 

Love, 

Earl Gray Potts”

[happybirthdaydany]

♫

Oh, I just wanna take you anywhere that you'd like We could go out any day, any night Baby, I'll take you there, take you there Baby, I'll take you there, yeah Oh, tell me, tell me, tell me how to turn your love on You can get, get anything that you want Baby just shout it out, shout it out Baby just shout it out, yeah And if you, you want me to Let's make a moveYeah, so tell me girl if every time we To-o-uch, you get this kind of ru-u-ush Baby, say yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah If you don't wanna take it slow And you just wanna take me home Baby, say yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah And let me kiss you

Kiss You - One Direction

He certainly wasn’t what anyone would call a “womanizer” by any means, but since his last relationship had ended so disastrously, Shiloh had made it more of a habit to flirt out of fun than out of a need to seriously pursue anything with anyone. For all he knew, he wasn’t ready to be a boyfriend again anyway, and while flirting was harmless, relationships meant putting yourself on the line again and anything could happen then.

Flirting with Josephine had been different though. For one thing, he wasn’t sure if she even got the fact that he was flirting with her, and for another, every time his phone buzzed and he thought it might be her, his entire stomach flipped upside down and his palms got sweaty. That wasn’t something he was used to and as he invited her to hang out one on one for the first time, without his sister and her strange best friend as extra company, he felt more nervous than he would’ve ever guessed he still could. Josephine was easy to please and easier to smile but he still didn’t want to mess ‘this’ up, whatever this was.

Picking her up in a carriage made this feel a little bit like a date, but neither of them had said it was, so he tried his hardest to ignore that feeling. He also tried his hardest to ignore the way the space in between their seats felt -- it was technically empty but it felt so charged with some sort of energy that he felt like he could burst out of his skin. For all he knew though, it was just in his head. After all, Josephine hadn’t done or said anything to make him think that she thought of him in any special way. She was kind to him, absolutely, but he couldn’t imagine she wasn’t kind to absolutely everyone, not to mention that when it came to sexual experience, it didn’t sound as if she had much of it at all. He was happy to just be friends, even if his hands shook when he opened the door for them and put a hand lightly on her back as he guided her out of the carriage into his home.

The chefs had already been warned and a feast of French fries was waiting for them, along with fries ordered from a lot of the major fast food chains nearby on CarriageEats. Ketchup and mustard and ranch and many other condiments waited by like soliders ready to go, and because Shiloh knew this much potato could be heavy, he had palette cleansers ready to go. With an explanation that he hadn’t known which fries were her favorites so he’d just ordered them all, lots of laughs, and showing each other their favorites, the food portion of the hangout went well. It wasn’t as well put together as one of Josephine’s tea parties, but she didn’t seem to judge him for it. For all the things she was, judgemental was entirely not one of them. 

Once they were nice and full, Shiloh showed his guest to his favorite drawing room -- it had some beautiful paintings hung on the wall that never failed to inspire him and one of his favorite sculptures that he’d ever made on display in a corner by the window. They talked about the artwork in the room a little bit before heading to the piano, which helped him feel a little less nervous. At least, it did until it was time to hear Josephine play. He felt awkward just standing there as she sat down and started playing a warm up, so he sat beside her and, unlike in the carriage, there wasn’t much room to leave space between them. He could feel the warmth of her on his side and it sent goosebumps to his exposed forearms. He shoved his sleeves back down to his wrists hoping that limiting physical exposure in any capacity would make reminding himself that Josephine was just nice to everybody and that she wasn’t interested in him in that way and that any sort of physical move made on her would most likely be unwelcome easier and for a moment, it seemed to work. 

Then she started playing. Her fingers made beautiful work of the keys and he was lost in it for a moment before realizing that she was playing his favorite song, where he’d agreed to sing, and so Shiloh joined in. Singing wasn’t his primary art form but it was something he loved nevertheless, and to sing with someone as skilled at piano as Josephine was a rare pleasure -- there was something special and intimate about performing the song together and by the time they got to the end, whatever small space was in between them was gone and they sat thigh to thigh.

Josephine was always beautiful but, as she started playing her favorite song, somehow, she was more beautiful than she’d ever been before. Shiloh was unfamiliar with the melody but he listened intently, his cheeks warm as the tune lured him in. They’d had such a good day together and being close together now felt so much better than being close to anyone else had in a long, long time that the thoughts he’d been pushing down all day came flooding to the forefront. Her song became the backing track to fantasies of tying Josephine up and teasing her to the brink of insanity, leaving dark hickeys on her neck and chest, scratching up her pretty back, gripping her by the hips and slamming her up and down his certifiably large penis, and those fantasies made his neck turn red. 

She kept playing her favorite song, clearly unaware as to where his mind had wandered as she shot him a sweet smile, and he was almost ashamed of himself for thinking of her like that. She was his friend, not some random hot girl he met while he was out, and just because she was hotter than any of them could ever hope to be and someone he couldn’t stop smiling around, it didn’t mean he was allowed to think of her like that. It didn’t mean he could or should picture what her pretty dress would look like all ripped up or what her hair would look like after her intricate hairstyle came undone in the throes of passion or...

And he was doing it again. It was almost embarrassing, how much he couldn’t tear his mind away from those images. What was even more embarrassing was that, along with those more dirty images, some softer ones had found their way into the mix and were starting to take over. He could picture pushing her hair back from her face and meeting her lips with a soft kiss and putting his hand on her thigh and laying her down gently on his bed and carrying on to do what could only be described as making sweet, sweet love to her, and that turned him on as much as those other images had. It’d been forever since he’d wanted those things, but wanting didn’t mean anything. They were friends, they were having fun, and that was that. It had to be that. Because Josephine was special and if he messed up their friendship, he’d never forgive himself. Losing such a lovely soul as a friend would haunt him forever.

She played the last notes of her song and looked over to him, her eyes looking up through thick lashes at his. Josephine really had the most incredible eyes that Shiloh thought he’d ever seen. They were wide with wonder, eagerness, and innocence, and as deep and vast and filled with warmth and acceptance as the ocean was with water. 

Yes, he’d never forgive himself if he messed up their friendship just as it was blossoming on its own, but he’d also never forgive himself if he let the chance pass him by. A beautiful, eager, kind, talented, brilliant woman sat by his side, close enough to touch, and he couldn’t resist trying. He reached over and tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear, never losing eye contact as he did so. Shiloh couldn’t tell if it’d been fifteen seconds of fifteen years before they finally leaned in and kissed each other. All he knew was that it felt like the longest he’d ever waited for anything and it was entirely worth it. Her lips were sweet and he moved his hand to her chin, angling her face as his other hand rested on the small of her back. 

He pulled back and asked if that was okay and if they could do it again and to his delighted surprise, Josephine acquiesced hurriedly, as if she’d wanted that as much as he had. This time, one of his hands found its way to the back of her head while the other skimmed down her side and rested on her thigh. She was a fantastic kisser, and when he opened his mouth to start exploring hers more intimately, joy thrummed in his chest at the taste of fries and happiness. 

His hand on her thigh got impatient and wanted more, and he felt he was about to burst if he didn’t get closer, so Shiloh stood, waiting for Josephine to follow his lead, before he lifted her and sat her down on the piano itself. A loud, discordant chord rang through the room and the piano bench fell over but both of those things were easy enough to ignore as Shiloh forced Josephine’s legs apart to create enough room to position himself squarely between her thighs. A small portion of his brain kept waiting for her to tell him it was too much, that he was too much, that this wasn’t what she’d come over for, but an even bigger part of his brain was just celebrating how wonderful this all felt. As if on their own, his hips thrusted forward every few moments itching to get closer, not quite able to get close enough to satisfy him with their clothes in the way, but enough to make more loud off-key clanks on the piano.

When Shiloh finally came up for air, he realized that someone might come around trying to figure out what was going on with the piano, and that’s when it occurred to him that, no matter how hot making out on the piano was, they didn’t have to. They were in his house after all, in his castle, and his room was even on the same floor as this drawing room. “Do you want to, um, keep going in my room? Just for privacy’s sake,” he asked through heavy breaths, and the wave of victory that washed over him when she said yes was one that could only be paralleled by finishing a great art piece. He scooped her up from her sitting position, holding her against him so that she could wrap her legs around his waist as he carried her down the hall, kissing her neck along the way. Once they were in front of his door, he kicked it open and closed behind them again, wasting no time at all in getting them onto his bed. 

He’d been following his intincts up until now, and the truth was that he was still unsure whether they’d make out, make love, or get freaky tonight. Was he going to get to see her naked tonight? He got painfully hard at the very idea. Whatever the case was though, he was down to go with whatever would make Josephine comfortable, to do whatever she wanted. He’d already gotten to kiss her -- anything else tonight was just the cherry on top of an already perfect day.

[happybirthdaydany]

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?” Bianca scoffed, hoping that the dismissive tone of her voice would hide what she was sure had been heart-shaped irises not two seconds ago. Never would she ever have thought she’d be secretly simping for Graham of all people, but life took some pretty strange turns sometimes.

She knew that part of the sudden extra appeal was that he had a girlfriend and was thus off limits. She’d never been too attracted to emotionally available people, for whatever reason. Her cousins thought it was because as someone who could always read people’s minds, she always assumed the worst of people anyway, and if they were openly unavailable, they weren’t trying to hide some secret red flag.

Graham had always been terrifyingly real. Since their first meeting, his words had matched up to his thoughts better than most people, and even though he did have some of the classic ‘wow, she’s so hot’ thoughts, there wasn’t much one could do about that -- Bianca was hot, and sexy, and beautiful, to the degree that people always noticed. 

What was weird about Graham was that that wasn’t all he thought of her.

They’d definitely had a moment a few days ago while singing together, and based on his voice and his face and his thoughts, she’d sincerely considered kissing him. If it were any other guy with a girlfriend, Bianca might’ve, but because it was Graham, she couldn’t. She didn’t realize why until just now though, when a particularly sweet batch of Graham’s thoughts came at her during a casual hang out. She couldn’t kiss Graham while he was still with Esther because then their first kiss would be wrong, it’d be tainted. And she wanted it to be special.

Simping. For Graham Monocolao. Plot twist. 

And it wasn’t like she could let him know. Graham was a good guy, and if he knew his girl friend was harboring massive feels for him, he’d stop hanging out with her out of respect for his girlfriend probably, and Bianca would feel so lonely without Graham, the only person whose inner voice and outer voices both calmed her down. So instead of answering his question with honesty and saying ‘I’m looking at you like this because I wish I’d realized how I felt about you before you were taken off the market, and if you didn’t have a girlfriend, I’d ravage you until we physically couldn’t anymore, and you have the most beautiful thoughts of anyone I’ve ever heard and all I want to do is hear what you think when I kiss you for the first time’, she rolled her eyes and laughed.

“You have a little fuzzy on your face,” she lied smoothly. “I’d get it for you but I just got my nails done and they’re a little sharp, and I’d hate to accidentally scratch up that face.”

[happybirthdaydany]

“ you waited for me? ”

Steffan had been sitting patiently on a bench outside of one of the many buildings on campus for a while now, but not long enough to start to feel foolish for what he was doing, although perhaps he should have. After all, it was a day that he didn’t even have classes, so he would typically be doing princely work instead of hanging around the school. Still, he felt drawn to Auradon’s most prestigious school today because of one person and one person only. Ever since the Charming’s Anniversary Ball, he had been unable to stop thinking about AJ Triton. 

He’d noticed the girl before, of course; she was one of his brother’s many friends (the best of them, he’d always thought, although he silently acknowledged that the bar there was low) and a fellow royal. And if that wasn’t enough, the two shared a birthday, which was great fun. None of that held a candle to how he felt about her now that she’d saved his life from a falling pillar of fire. Perhaps it was just the part of him that had been raised on stories of his father rescuing his mother right before their happily ever after, or perhaps it was simply the bravery that AJ had exhibited, but whatever the case was, she’d been running through his mind every waking moment since and he had to do something about it.

What that something was, he’d been initially unsure. Steffan wasn’t like his younger brother when it came to these types of things; he’d seen Silvester get carried away by intense feelings that were interpreted as ‘love’ based on their sheer strength, and it always ended up in grand gestures, big spending, and huge mistakes. Though Steffan would never judge his brother outloud, he’d always known he didn’t want to be anything like him, especially in that regard, and moreover, he knew he lacked the same fire that drove Silvester to act the way he did. When it came to romance and things of a more sensual nature, Steffan was simply soft. Sometimes he wondered if he lacked the same edge he saw in most other people, and it made him a bit self-conscious when it came to asking people out at all. 

AJ had lit a fire in his heart though, and he couldn’t ignore that. He wanted to ask her to spend time together, to see what might happen, and if she wasn’t interested, that was her prerogative. If she was though? Well, perhaps this was the beginning of something very special. It sure felt like the beginning of something special as he saw her rounding the corner as classes let out. The mere sight of her made his heart melt a bit in his chest and goodness, it was a wonderful feeling. AJ was a bit short, so before he lost sight of her in the crowd, he called out to her by her name, watching as she turned towards him. Her eyes widened in surprise and it made him smile more as he caught up to her, falling into stride beside her.

“Hello, AJ!” he greeted, unable to stop himself from radiating excitement with a warm grin. “I hope you do not mind, a little birdy told me where I might find you today.” Maybe one day, Steffan would mention that it was a literal little bird that he’d asked to follow AJ to find the best time to approach her, but for now, he had more important matters to get to. “I am sorry if this is a bad time, but I just wanted to see you face to face so that I could ask you if I could treat you to a nice dinner sometime soon? Or better yet, to a picnic and a good walk? I do not know if you have heard, but I am kind of the prince of picnics,” he joked with a laugh before shaking his head. “Or you can choose what we do! In fact, you should, I insist upon it; I would be honored to spend time with you regardless of the activity. You see, I have been wracking my brain trying to think of how best to show you how grateful I am to you for what happened at the Charming’s ball, and I know that a nice evening is not even close to enough, but it seems to me a good place to start. What do you think?”

[happybirthdaydany]

I don’t ever want to see you again.”

"I-I'm so sorry," Magnus stammered, even though yet another apology probably wasn't what Annika was looking for from him right now. He'd known that telling his girlfriend the truth behind why he'd asked her out months ago was going to have catastrophic, perhaps even relationship-ending results, but after having genuinely fallen in love with Annika, the guilt was eating him alive. Short of going back in time and stopping himself from having dubious motivations in the first place though, all Magnus could really do to do right by her was to finally come clean. She deserved to know.

And he deserved the way she was looking at him right now, even though it cut through him like a sabre. She was the first person to have ever looked at him with unabashed, doe eyes full of love and hope and joy, and because of that, she was now the first person to ever look at him with such disgust, pain, and disappointment. No one had ever trusted or loved him, but Annika had given him her whole heart, and he had messed it up before it even began, and for what? He didn’t even like his father, and yet some strange pride thing had prompted him to try avenging him by targeting the youngest Bjorgman. 

It was more than that, though. Magnus had also wanted to avenge himself and the sort of lifestyle he thought he’d been cheated of. He wanted to find a royal who had never felt a negative emotion in their pampered, privileged life and make them hurt, as if that would fix anything. The plan was short-sighted, but even worse, he’d chosen his mark incorrectly. Most royals were like his uncles and cousins, who balked at anything or anyone different, and no matter how hard Magnus tried to fit in with them, he knew they saw him as an outsider and they always would.

Annika Bjorgman wasn’t like the other royals. In fact, she wasn’t like anyone else in the world. She considered herself the outsider among the princes and princesses, but Magnus knew that her differences were what made her special. They made her someone who was friends with creatures that typically went friendless, and someone who cared about her family even when she felt like they didn’t care about her. She went on dates in dumpsters and let him text her instead of speaking outloud because it made him feel more comfortable. She said “thank you” like it meant “I love you”, and loved him fearlessly. She was so beautiful that it sometimes hurt his eyes, and she made him feel beautiful too, and interesting, and worthy. She didn’t see him as from the Isle, or herself as a princess. Whatever she saw them as, she saw them as together, and it made him feel secure. 

Did it make him secure enough to beg? No. His days of feeling safe in this relationship were over as soon as he’d told her the truth and had seen her withdraw. But he had to try. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he repeated, adding as fast as he could, “it’s just... I’ve been fighting my entire life to prove that I was special. Or not even special, just that I was worthwhile. That I wasn’t just taking up space, that I wasn’t a mistake. And I’d never been able to do it. Not with my dad, not with my uncles and cousins who wish I was never born, not with anybody. And there was a part of me that thought, if I took down someone who everyone did think was worthy, I’d win, somehow. But I was wrong. I was so wrong. About everything, about winning, and about you, more than anything, about you. Nobody deserves what I wanted to do to them but especially not you. You’re so amazing, I started falling in love with you almost right away. By the end of the first date, even, you had my head spinning and I completely forgot about why I’d reached out in the first place. I’m only telling you now because... I see something really special with you! And I know, I’m not worthy, especially not of you, not after everything I put you through, but -- well, you’re the reason I know I can love, Annika. And I promise, if you give me another chance, I’ll never lie to you again. I’ll never hide anything, I’ll never do anything to hurt you. Please. I know I hurt you and I disappointed you but... up until I met you, I always felt like life was a dance and I was out of step, and no mattered how hard I tried, I couldn’t fix it. And whenever I’m with you, something deep inside of me knows I’m finally in the right place, at the right time, with the right person. I don’t have to be special to my dad, or to my uncles, or to the world, or to myself, so long as I’m special to you, so please, please give me another chance. I promise I’ll spend the rest of my life making you feel as special as you’ve made me feel if you let me. Please, Annika.”

He waited wordlessly for a reply, the tears that had gathered in his eyes as he spoke threatening to well over and spill onto his face. It made her face blurry, but even through that, Magnus could tell she was far from happy. It was probably the farthest from happy he’d ever seen her, and he couldn’t blame her one bit. He’d violated her trust, and she’d let him in, which was something he knew was as new for her as it was for him. If the situations were reversed, would he forgive Annika? His heart sank to his stomach as he realized that no, he probably wouldn’t. But then again, he had been raised on the Isle. That made it different, didn’t it? It had to. Because if it didn’t, then it meant that the best thing that had ever happened to him would be ove-

“I don’t ever want to see you again.”

It wasn’t surprising but it still felt like a slap to the face. Or actually, it felt more like that time the Gaston brothers had decided to beat up him after school that one time that he’d stolen from them. He’d walked away from that bruised and bloody, with a broken bone or two and so much pain that every step towards home felt like his own personal hell on earth. But even that would be preferable to this feeling.

“Okay,” he said, turning around so he didn’t have to look at the way Annika looked at him anymore. She wanted him to leave, and so he should leave. That would be the respectful thing to do. But walking away felt impossible. He loved this woman. He needed to say something, he needed to fight for her, so he paused, not taking another step until he could figure out what to say. His mouth felt impossibly dry and he licked his lips before throwing out one last plea. “But you’re all I want to see. Forever. So if you ever change your mind and decide to forgive me, even though I know I don’t deserve it, I just want you to know that I’ll still be there. Even if... I don’t know, no matter what you need, or even if you never need me again, I’ll be there. Because I still... I love you. I always will.” With that, he finally forced his feet to walk away from Annika, feeling pain with every step that took him away from the only person that had ever felt like home.

[happybirthdaydany]

“ i’m gonna marry you one day. ”

For Chauncy, the most important part of life had always been about finding the beauty in things. It was why he got up early to see sunsets, it was what made him cry sometimes looking at old architecture, and it was why life by Beth's side was the best way to live. He loved all of his friends, but Beth had always been his favorite. She made the long hours of being castle-schooled more bearable, she made their more chaotic friends more tolerable, and she simply made everything better. She added light and colors and depth that he wouldn’t see without her, and that made him want her around, always.

He knew from an early age that he would do anything for Beth, and if anyone needed proof of that, there was plenty of proof; years of their early lives were recorded on hours of tape, of the two of them being thick as thieves from before they could even stand, hanging out in the library together, eating fun foods in the dining room, and of course, there were the fake weddings.

Beth held fake weddings fairly often, and Chauncy was more than often cast as the groom. He loved Beth, and he loved dressing up, so he didn’t mind it too much, especially because she let him arrange the decor to his liking. And besides, when she chose someone else like Timmy to be her groom instead, it made Chauncy’s chest twist in a very unhappy way, so it was better if that job was left to him. Besides, Beth was always a beautiful bride, and by the time they got to the end of the vows, he was bouncing with excitement to get to kiss her on the cheek in front of all their friends and family.

He’d never expected one of those many, many home videos of their little kid weddings to make an appearance at their real one, for the simple fact that he had never expected Beth to want to marry him. She could have anybody that she wanted in the whole wide world, after all. But now that they were here, at their real wedding, sitting next to each other at the bride and groom table as his father played a clip of them getting “married”, he knew that the love in her eyes when she looked at him was the most beautiful sight he could ever see. Getting that look whenever he wanted it was well worth the embarassment of everybody he’d ever known giggling at them as children, clumsily saying their vows and exchanging kisses on their cheek before their “first dance”.

And then he heard baby Beth’s voice in the clip, saying “I’m going to marry you one day”, and the entire audience cooed in joy, and he squeezed her hand that he was already holding. A year ago, he never could’ve imagined that he’d have a wedding at all, much less to the girl of his dream, but that was why he loved Beth. She was still adding color and light and depth to his life, and that’s how she’d seen the truth when he hadn’t been able to, when he’d thought he didn’t stand a chance;  baby Beth had been right, she would marry him one day, and that day was today. It was exhiliarating, knowing that this wedding wasn’t the end of their fairy tale, like it had been when they were little -- now that they were grown-ups and actually together, actually husband and wife, a wedding was just the beginning. 

[happybirthdaydany]

It’s weird how we’ve been friends for so long, but never went through that ‘crushing’ phase.”

Duncan didn’t usually tune out Dylan during their conversations -- she was his best friend, after all, and thus every word ever since they’d met so long ago was vitally important -- but she’d been talking about Raul for too long for his taste and so his ears had decided to take a break. He had nothing nice to say about the guy who had given Dylan so much grief until now, when she was attractive enough for the mernan’s taste, and just because she was giving her betrothed a tempoary pass because they were having an active sex life didn’t mean he had to. 

In fact, that was more reason not to be nice to the guy. Unbeknownst to pretty much everyone aside from his journal, Duncan had always kind of thought that, if they’d met in some other world where Dylan hadn’t been promised to someone else her whole life, maybe they could be... something. What that something could be, he wasn’t entirely sure. All he did know for sure was that he’d always thought Dylan was beautiful, even when her smile was more metal than teeth. None of that did anything to hide her eyes and the way they twinkled like sea glass when she had a particularly interesting idea.

He wasn’t stupid, he knew that as they stood, they’d never be anything more than friends, and following that logic, Dylan and Raul losing their virginities to each other didn’t change anything, but it still didn’t make it pleasant to listen to, not at all. 

Which was how he missed how and when the conversation had switched gears, but the word ‘crushing’ brought him back to earth, where he was laying down next to Dylan on their spot on the grass on ASU’s campus. “What?” he asked dumbly, and without having to clarify if he meant he hadn’t heard her or hadn’t understood her, Dylan repeated that last sentence, lightly kicking his shoulder for emphasis and as if to silently chastize him for zoning out. 

“Oh. Yeah,” Duncan agreed, a pang of regret hitting his chest immediately for lying to her. He’d never told her how he felt, because he’d always known that she was off limits and too good for him anyway, but it always made him feel like a big, fat liar to keep that kind of thing from Dylan. He really didn’t want to complicate her life at all...

But then again, that was kind of conceited, wasn’t it? Assuming his feelings would really impact her in any way? Especially now that she and Raul had their own kind of thing going on that clearly meant more to her than she wanted to let on. Maybe now that it felt like Dylan’s life with her betrothed would actually be kind of good, he could be more honest with her about how he’d felt in the past and not be too worried about it ruining anything with them, or for her. 

“I mean...” The two words just escaped him while he was mulling the thought over in his mind, and they didn’t go unnoticed by Dylan. She looked at him with an arched eyebrow, prompting him with just her body language to keep going and finish the thought. Duncan wondered if Raul could read Dylan’s body language this well; he wondered if Raul had a leg up because they’d been more intimate, or if Duncan himself had a leg up because of all the time and history that he had with Dylan, but what he truly wondered why he cared if either of them had a leg up. Duncan was Dylan’s best friend, Raul was her betrothed, and those were their roles in life. Nothing would ever change that.

So why not tell her the truth? “...I definitely went through the crushing phase. For a long, long time. But it’s whatever, you know? It is what it is.” He kept his eyes to the clear blue sky above him, avoiding Dylan’s gaze like she was Medusa and just one look into her familiar eyes would kill him. Somehow though, without even making eye contact with her, Duncan felt his body turning cold and stiff. Oh, well. He’d told the truth. All he could do was wait and pray for his best-case scenario -- that she’d act like she hadn’t heard him and carry on talking about her future with somebody else.

[happybirthdaydany]

♔ : Finding your muse wearing their clothes

There had been many benefits to dating Tenney back in the good old days. Obviously, the girl was annoyingly gorgeous, and had the voice of a freaking angel, and her parents were so cool and made the best food Freyja had ever eaten. As if all of that wasn’t good enough, Tenney had been so amazing that she was one hell of a muse. Freyja considered herself highly creative even on a bad day anyway, but being in love with the best girl in the universe made it so stupidly easy to pop out beautiful design after beautiful design. She woke up in the morning and wanted to sketch, and she went to bed every night excited to dream up more creations -- after all, it was easy to feel the juices flowing when literally everything looked like a dream on her dream girl.

To say the breakup had been hard on her was an understatement. She hadn’t expected the relationship to end any time soon, or at all if she was being honest with herself, and she especially hadn’t expected to be dumped for... being embarrassing. That wasn’t a word Freyja applied to herself often and it shook her confidence like crazy, not that she wanted anyone to know that. It was easier for the world to think she was locking herself up in her room because she was crying over the loss of Tenney instead of the truth, which was that she was crying over that and the loss of the idea she’d always had about herself. Some days, she didn’t let anyone talk to her except Annika, and she couldn’t look at let alone touch a sketch book. 

Still, the show had to go on. Freyja had given herself two weeks, no more and no less, and when her alarm labeled “Get the F Over It” went off, she took its advice and shrugged off her sorrow like it was a last season hand-me-down. She was still sad about Tenney not being in her life anymore and would be for a long time, but she couldn’t let her breakup define her when what she thought about herself mattered so much more. She forced herself to stay up late designing new outfits; the goal was to make looks that were so immaculate that Tenney would spend the rest of her life cursing that she’d burned this bridge. Throughout their relationship, Freyja’s ex had gotten the unique privilege of being the sole wearer of some of her best designs. Until Freyja found someone else to fill that position, she would just have to make Tenney’s life miserable and full of regret and envy and bitterness...maybe because otherwise Freyja was scared Tenney might forget her altogether, and that would be worse than anything else.

They didn’t speak much afterwards, but that was okay. They talked enough, and Freyja kept updated on Tenney’s life by checking Instaroyal and asking friends. She didn’t think of it as stalking, not really. All the information was public and anyway, Tenney was trying to become a celebrity in her own right. Keeping up with her career wasn’t that much of a creepy stalker move. It didn’t stop Freyja from living her own life either, and she found herself wondering sometimes whether or not Tenney kept up with Freyja’s growing career too, if she ever stalked her socials. It hurt her heart knowing that she always pictured their careers growing together and that no matter what happened now, that never would, but it was fine, it was fine, it was fine. 

The few times they did speak, they clearly weren’t on good terms, and that was... also fine. Or, at least, it had to be, because if Freyja thought too hard about Tenney being a jerk when she was the one who’d been the dumper and for a stupid reason too, it would drive her crazy and derail her progress and she refused to do that. Maybe someday they’d be able to talk to each other the way they used to when they were friends, or maybe that bridge really was ashes on the ground now. Either way, the brief conversations kept Freyja up at night, thinking about how someone who used to be such a safe space for her felt as constricting as high-compression leggings now, and how that juxtaposition alone was enough to make her lose her mind.

It was also a fun concept for a fashion line though, the mix of comfort with highly structured pieces that looked like they’d almost hurt. It was more inspiring than any idea had been in a while, actually, and Freyja followed her instincts and jumped right into work. She stayed up all night designing what could only be described as a a corset gown mixed with a shift dress. It was equal parts soft and hard, satin and leather, sparkles and studs, and it was spectacular. The piece looked either teal or green depending on the angle and if Freyja could fall in love with a piece of clothing, it’d be this one. As she took it in with the utmost joy, she felt a little bit of annoyance hit. She knew just by looking at it who the best model possible for it would be, but her evil ex wouldn’t wear one of her pieces ever again... would she?

The dress inspired a line of sketches and Freyja started working on more and more, but that didn’t stop her from picturing Tenney in the initial look. Finally, she didn’t think she could take it any longer, and she stuffed the dress angrily into a box. If she couldn’t get Tenney out of her head, she’d get her out of her designing space. The rest of the looks were good without the dress, and Freyja refused to let Tenney be her muse still, after everything. She wrote a small, sloppy note that just said “Have a dumb dress. F.” and dropped it off at Tenney’s place right before Christmas. She half-hoped that her ex wouldn’t open the box at all and that the dress would just kind of disappear, the same way all the love between them had. But it didn’t.

About a month later, in fact, Freyja saw a picture of Tenney in the dress on Insta; she looked just as perfect in it as Freyja thought she would. The color brought out the undertones of her ex’s skin beautifully, the soft and the hard worked equally well on her, and it gave her edge while still maintaining a lady like image. It looked so good on her that the dress itself looked even prettier than the designer had remembered it looking, which was so rewarding yet so annoying. Did Tenney have to look so perfect in it? And was Freyja stupid for thinking -- or maybe hoping -- that her wearing it at all meant something? 

[happybirthdaydany]

you’re my person. you’ll always be the one i go to. ”

Maya was the last person on earth that Magnus would ever call mushy, so her claiming him as ‘her person’ took him back for a second. The more he thought about it though, the more he was able to convince himself it wasn’t that big a deal. She was basically calling him her ride-or-die and even though no one liked depending on anyone, everyone where he’d come from had a ride-or-die. It was crucial to survival because there was strength in numbers, and also because those who grew up on the Isle of the Lost knew better than anyone that loneliness could hurt more than any sword or punch could. 

That was something he and Maya had always been able to do for each other, was stave off that cold, crippling loneliness that was just a rite of passage for those unfortunate enough to grow up where they had. Maybe they weren’t the warmest or most well-adjusted individuals, but he knew they both could have been way, way worse, and that was thanks to their bond that would’ve been called “best friendship” by Auradonian kids. They were so close, in fact, that if Magnus hadn’t always been dead set on marrying up to secure the life he and his father had long deserved, Maya could’ve been a decent wife.

He wanted to shrug and tell her that she was the person he’d always go to, that she was his ride-or-die too like he’d likely done more than a few times in their friendship by now, but the words stuck in his throat and refused to go up. Magnus’s forehead crinkled in frustration and to make more sense of this, he tried imagining what Annika might say if he told her about the situation, as if that weird beautiful girl’s advice would shed any clarity on the subject. She hda been a breath of fresh air in his life ever since he’d sought her out and he loved that she looked at things in a different way than he did, like she was looking at it upside down or from far away or something. It made her the perfect person to go to...

And now he saw the problem. He was Maya’s ride-or-die, but she wasn’t his, not anymore. Ever since he’d met and started hanging out with Arendelle’s superior princess, she was the person he most wanted to see. If he saw something funny, he wanted to hear Annika’s weird laugh. If something sad happened, he wanted her to try and cheer him up. If she was going through something, he wanted to know what it was. His shower thoughts, his many questions about the world, his jokes -- though those were few and far between and he knew it -- he wanted to save them all for Annika Bjorgman. 

Horror must have washed over his face at that realization because Maya asked him what was up, and in lieu of answering her question, Magnus panicked and planted a kiss on her lips. It was something that happened sometimes between them instead of talking, and right now, anything that wasn’t talking felt way easier, but that wasn’t the only reason he’d reached for Maya’s mouth like it was a life raft in the ocean. He needed so badly to kiss someone who wasn’t Annika, to prove to himself that he still could, that she didn’t mean that much to him. She was just a girl he’d tried sweet-talking to get revenge for his family, she wasn’t supposed to be anything more than that, but the way his chest tightened and what felt like big fingers twisted up his intestines at kissing someone else said otherwise. 

Crap. He’d seriously fucked himself over.

Magnus pulled back before the kiss could become anything more and to his digust, the feelings of shame and guilt that came with kissing a non-Annika person didn’t go away. They just got stronger, and worse. Did he seriously feel committed to that woman? How could he have let this happen? “I gotta go,” he mumbled, his face still stunned as he left his former ride-or-die all by herself as he tried to work out exactly how his objective had failed so hard.

[happybirthdaydany]

I dare you to kiss me.”

“Ha,” Upgrade said dryly, his lips twitching up into a smile as he tried to keep his gaze forward intstead of looking to the left at the hero lying beside him as they hid underneath Critical Mass’s evil-mobile. The battle had gotten away from them and they’d needed a moment to regroup, and what he should’ve been thinking about was what to do next, but a huge part of his huge brain was focused on how warm Cold Snap’s body was next to him, how close their hands were to each other, and how those six words from his long-time hero crush made his heart beat faster than any of the danger they might be in. He couldn’t even turn towards her to ask if she was serious or not, because if he did, their faces would be way too close; there’d been tons of times, usually in the heat of battle or right after, where his and Cold Snap’s flirting felt like it might lead to somethings more, and especially since he and Lucy had broken up regrettably, it felt like those flirty moments were happening more often than before, and they burned even brighter.

Or maybe it was possible that he just felt that way because the feelings he had for his new girlfriend didn’t hold a candle to the feelings he’d had for his ex. His relationship with Cold Snap had always been playful, but Lucy had been real, the realest anything in his life had ever been, and he loved her even more than he loved the fantasy of his superhero crush. Angel, on the other hand... well, she was sweet, and distracting enough sometimes, but he knew in his heart it wouldn’t last and that it wasn’t going anywhere. And if he was being honest with himself, Cold Snap reminded him a bit of Lucy, which made his big fat crush on her even bigger now that his heart didn’t belong too much to anybody else. 

Was it going too far to joke about kissing though? Even if he didn’t love Angel the way he’d loved Lucy -- the way he was trying to fall out of love with Lucy, if he was being introspective -- he still had a girlfriend, and he had to treat that relationship with respect, didn’t he? So what if his girlfriend didn’t make his heart beat or his face flush or his palms sweat like Lucy or Cold Snap did? That didn’t make how hard he was fantasizing about kissing another person okay... and yet, all he could think about was turning his head towards her and giving in to how much he wanted her. In fact, he thought about turning his head towards her so hard that he almost didn’t notice when he actually had. They were so close that they were sharing the same air, and it wasn’t as weird as sharing a stranger’s air ought to be. 

“Well... for all we know, we’re about to die,” Upgrade joked quietly, knowing his and Cold Snap’s talents together would easily take down the cartoonish villain, “so maybe we finally should.” He saw Cold Snap’s eyebrow twitch up, and he raised his own brows at her before shrugging as though he’d finally given in and sighed. “I love a good dare.” He’d wanted to kiss Cold Snap before on a mission so many times, and so many things had gotten in the way -- he had no reason to think this time wouldn’t be the same, right? And it wasn’t cheating if he got as close to kissing as possible and just relished in that closeness, in that tingling, was it? 

His eyes were closed but he could tell she’d gotten a little closer -- it was like their bodies spoke their own language, and the sliver of space between them was buzzing with years of secrets and jokes and victories and anticipation, and then he could feel one of her lips meet one of his with the sofest of touches, like a fingertip brushing across. It was such minimal contact, almost nothing, but it felt like everything, and it made him feel like coming completely undone. His mouth chased the warmth of hers to try and capture it in something more substantial, more solid, more real, but before they had a chance, Critical Mass’s laser claws threw their hiding spot across the room and left them exposed. Thankfully, the two young heroes didn’t need too much readjustment time before leaping back into action, and as they worked together, nature and technology hand in hand, Upgrade’s genius brain itched to try and connect some dots that had nothing to do with the villain they were taking down. It was more focused on who in heavens Cold Snap could be, and why she felt almost... familiar.