#🎂🥳🎈

[lynzishell]

✨Happy Birthday to my beloved twins✨

[brian-in-finance]

Remember Baby Tait’s third happy birthday?

Birth announced 18 August 2021

[fascinationstreetmp3]

So for all you cowards out there talking shit, talking about taking a run at me, hear this now and hear it plain. I own the night.

Happy 147th birthday to The Vampire Louis de Pointe du Lac (October 4th 1877)

[fireworksgalaxy]

happy birthday, @cosmicdreamgrl 💜💕!!

[magalidragon]

🏒 the deal 🎶 | “Sometimes people sneak up on you and suddenly you don't know how you ever lived without them.”

HAPPY BIRTHDAY @youwerenevermine! 🥳🥰😘🤗🎂🎈🎊🎁 Okay fine whatever so I am a few hours your time early, but I was so excited to share and honestly, the world is going to end soon and I wanted to get ahead of the game. I went back and forth over what to do for you and couldn’t decide so went with this. The original hockey boyfriend Mr. Garrett Graham and sassy Hannah Wells! It is Jonerys meets THE DEAL! I hope you like it! So grateful to this fandom for introducing me to you! Love you bby! 😘

There was a very strong possibility Jon Snow had made a terrible mistake making this deal with Daenerys Targaryen. He figured it was easy enough; she was a smarty pants and could help him get his grade up in what was supposed to be an "easy A" philosophy class and keep him from getting benched. In doing so, he'd pretend to date her and the guy she had a crush on-- fucking Robb, his own damn cousin-- would see her as a bit more than weird silver-haired purple-eyed Dany and want to ask her out. Since Robb wanted anything he couldn't have-- particularly if Jon had it first.

Now he was watching Robb openly flirt with her and was squeezing his beer bottle so hard he figured he'd be benched not for his shitty philosophy grade but for having to get stitches in his stick hand. It was supposed to be an easy quid-pro-quo. A deal. Started off more annoying than anything else-- Dany could not have cared one single snowflake that he was Queen Alysanne University's star left winger and frequently let him know it. He honestly appreciated it, even if he had to really wear her down, chasing her all over Winterfell to get her to concede.

That had honestly been fun. Then there were their random long conversations after studying. Topics ranged from the best pizza toppings-- pepperoni and more pepperoni for him, while she saw nothing wrong with pineapple on her pizza-- to the best Marvel movie-- he didn't mind that movie about 'The Eternals' while she thought it sucked and liked 'Ant Man' more, all the way over to which House of Commons member should win the two highly competitive ridings near Winterfell or who really won the War of Five Kings?

He also had admitted to her some things he'd never shared with anyone. That he might be the aloof "Ice Man" of QAU hockey who could get any girl he wanted, he actually played that image outside of his truly private life. In reality he just couldn't think of girls, he was too busy trying to do his best to keep his grades up to get a very difficult degree in metallurgy and cultural anthropology while also making sure he didn't lose his rookie contract with the Winterfell Wolves professional hockey team.

Just like he knew all she wanted was to get the bonus money from the School of Drama and Music's winter showcase to help with her mother's medical bills, back in Pentos. That her dream was to sing on stage at the King's Landing Opera House.

All of that swam in his head, those conversations and late nights, sitting out in the quad on a blanket while she quizzed him on long dead Maesters, or that time she'd come to one of his games and he'd scored a hat trick, so she ahd to come to every singel one afterward.

He had done his job; he talked her up to Robb. He lingered in the living room of his and Robb's shared house when they would talk, just in case there needed to be extra prodding. Now they were on a bloody, fucking date.

"Jon, buddy, let go of the beer. The beer didn't do anything to you. Come on man, there you go." His friend and other roommate, Satin, carefully pried his fingers off the glass neck, moving the bottle to the oak bartop. "Alright, so when are you going to tell her?"

"Huh?" He was now glaring at the back of Robb's stupid auburn head, wondering if he could cut off those fucking curls while he was sleeping and blame their fourth roommate Theon. "Tell her what?"

"That you're in love with her, you dipshit."

Thank the gods he wasn't holding the beer bottle because he'd have definitely dropped it. He also was glad he didn't have any beer in his mouth, because that would have been sputtered everywhere as he gaped at Satin, who was now studying his fingernails nonchalantly. "Wha...what...I'm not....she's a friend! She wasn't just a friend, she was...Dany.

Dany, whose first words to him were: "I'm sorry do I know you?"

Dany, who always tied her long silver braids up on her head in a knot using pencils. Who hummed random song llyrics and chords and scribbled them on ltitle pieces of paper. Who had a voice that sounded like fucking angels from teh rafters. Who snorted and cackled when she laughed. Who called him "Wolf Man" instead of "Ice Man" because he had a wolf back home and one tattooed on his arm.

Dany....Dany who always smelled like lemons and lavender and who...

He blinked. It was like seeing everything under a different filter. Brighter. Across the bar, he watched Dany laugh at something Robb said, but it didn’t meet her eyes. She was playing with the silver guitar pick she used, something he had learned was a nervous habit. Her eyes— vibrant, happy lavender— did not fully meet his, but he knew she had glanced his way.

Gods. Was he in love with her? Was that what this feeling was? He couldn’t love her. He had to focus on hockey and studying and…it was just easier to keep that other side of him out there. If Jon Snow actually found a girl…a music major who didn’t know a deke from a slapshot and thought there were quarters not periods…he’d never hear the end of it.

He didn’t care. He didn’t want her with Robb. “And why is that?” Satin asked.

Fuck he said that out loud? “Because she’s mine,” he snapped. He paused. “No she is her own person of course I don’t own her obviously but…” He drained the beer bottle. This was one thing Robb was not going to steal from him. He stomped over to their table and didn’t even wait for his cousin to say anything before he glanced at Dany. “Get your coat, we still have to finish that Agatha show.”

She cocked her head up, confused. “Jon what…”

“Come on.”

“Jon,” Robb began, but he didn’t even have time to finish. Jon grabbed Dany’s hand, tugging her away and towards the back corridor. “What the seven hells Jon!”

If she wanted to fight him, she could. He’d let her anyway. Dany did not pull very hard and protested over Robb’s loud complaining. “Jon seriously what the fuck are you doing?!” She pushed at his chest when he tugged them into the stairwell that led up to the bar manager office, the dim lighting throwing her face in relief. She was fuming. She was a dragon, he expected it. “What was that!?”

“I want to see something.” He didn’t wait for a response. He had to do this. So he crashed his mouth down over hers.

The shock had her gasping, lips parting under his. Soft, plump, perfect lips, and he pressed gently, his hands dropping to her small waist to hold her upright against the wall. She had her hand on his shoulder and for a second he didn’t think she was going to kiss back and made to pull away, apology at the ready, knowing he had fucked this up completely.

Until her hands dove into his hair and she opened her mouth wider, moaning and pulling him to her. He groaned, desperate now, a man who had his first taste of water after wandering a desert, and cupped her jaw, angling her head so he could rise over her, sliding his tongue along hers. Gods. She tasted like strawberries. How!? One of life’s mysteries, he supposed.

The need for air separated them, their breathing ragged and foreheads touching, noses brushing. Her gaze lifted, meeting his. “I take it you don’t think I should see Robb?”

He shook his head, whispering, “Come home with me. I’ll make you a deal.”

“And what’s that?”

He kissed her again, nipping her bottom lip. Her breasts were pressed to his chest and his knee had wedged itself between hers. They were about ten seconds away from a public indecency charge. His voice dropped, gravelly. “You come home with me and I’ll make you come within ten minutes. Five, even.”

Her cheeks flushed pink. “And what do you get out of this deal?” she asked.

He pretended to think, before flashing a grin. “The knowledge I made you come. Oh and, our next movie night you don’t wear underwear.”

She smirked now. “I am not one of your puck bunnies.”

“And you know I don’t do puck bunnies.”

After a second, she barely nodded. “Alright. Let’s see what you’ve got Wolf Man.”

“So it’s a deal then Targy?” She hated that nickname. The glare she shot him had him grinning.

She pulled at his hand, towards the back exit. “It’s a deal.”

[mikyapixie]

Happy 65th birthday to the talented "Weird Al" Yankovic!!! In honor of Weird Al Yankovic 65th birthday, what's your favorite character or what cartoon you seen him in?🎊🥳🎉🎁🎈🎂

For me it’s a tie between Gravity Falls & The Grim Adventures Of Bill & Mandy!!!😁

[porrettaposting]

♥ ★ HAPPY ★ BIRTHDAY ★ MATTHEW ★ PORRETTA ★ ♥

[jessythebunny]

Y'all say happy birthday to the most special person in the world!!! 💞💞🎂🎂✨✨🎉🎉

@asktrio516 aka @dilemmaart / @dilemmaverse Happy birthday miss Emma!!! And I hope you spend it with a lot of tranquility and happiness ‼️🥳🥳💖💖

Also I drew this a while ago but finaly I posted it weee!!!

•Humanized Duck belongs to her✨✨

•the emo controller (The black-haired girl) belongs to me✨✨

Bonus XD (just a joke):

Now let's get back to our private life👍🏻😌.

[nightcourtcaps]

Night Court - The Apartment (S3:E15)

[herefortarlos]

Morning reblog because it is still @heartstringsduet's Birthday!!! ❤️

This is a scene from Michelle's But most of it was beautiful, one of my absolute favorite fics, that I know she put a lot of love and care into! I remember this scene of TK reading the poem "Firefly under the tongue" by Coral Bracho to Carlos was one of your favorites (and mine too) and I thought it would be perfect as a picture!

A special thank you to the lovely and talented @whatsintheboxmh for allowing me to commission her and bringing this scene to life! She did an amazing job with all the little details in the background, how our boys are posed and the book! I'm sorry I made you work with English lettering May but thank you for all the care you put into this! 🤗

[princesspuresarahk]

IT'S MY BIRTHDAY 🥳🎂🎊🎈❣️

[yonderghostshistories]

Happy 81st Birthday (5th May) to the Kindest, Most Epic GOATed Nicest Man Of Britain, SIR MICHAEL PALIN!!!

[brian-in-finance]

A Tale of Two Tonys

and Brian knows the difference 😉

Part One of Four

It was suggested elsewhere in July* Brian confuses the Tonys’ roles. Brian’s own posts say otherwise. 🙃 (*Waited for today’s Happy Birthday 🥳)

Tony the band manager ⬇️

Band manager Tony McGill with Caitríona Balfe, his wife, in London England, 29 November 2023 (Image: Dave Benett/Wirelmage)

Tony the music producer ⬇️

Music producer Tony Hoffer with Joanna Sims, his wife, in Lyon France, July 2024 (Image: Instagram)

Here are some examples that dispute Brian confuses the Tonys’ roles. (Try to laugh with me. 😉)

Five posts, one theme

1.

Screenshot from Brian 27 March 2021

2.

• • •

Screenshots from Brian 30 April 2021

3.

The actress and her Scottish music producer husband tied the knot in August 2019, at St. Mary's Church in Bruton, Somerset, in the U.K. Much like their pregnancy news, the couple was discreet with their intimate nuptials.

• • •

Screenshots from Brian 18 August 2021

4.

• • •

Screenshots from Brian 6 March 2023

5.

• • •

Screenshots from Brian 8 March 2023

Remember… he’s not a music producer, by the way. I just have to do this... He really hates this because he manages bands. He's in artist management. One person wrote it and now everybody does. — Caitríona Balfe

Later edit: “Waited for today’s Happy Birthday” in the first paragraph should say “yesterday’s.” The birthday is 12 October. I got busy, posted late, and forgot to update. Oops… (This bit won’t show up on reblogs posted before 19 October 2024.)

[genesiswrld]

HAPPY VINCENT VALENTINE DAY!!!🥳🎂🎁🎈🎊🎉

[inciliyasemin]

bugün benim doğum günüm. her şey için teşekkür ederim geçen yaşım. sevginin hayata dair her anı kapsadığını, helalleşmenin insanı hafiflettiğini, özüm ile barışık olmamın dünyamı güzelleştirdiğini, bolluk ve bereketin açık kalple var olduğunu, insanlarıma karşı anlayışın, sabrın ve sevgi dolu olmanın kalbimi büyüttüğünü, insan olmanın verdiği hata yapma ama tekrarlamama hakkımın değerini, her duygunun benimle ve benim için olduğunu, hislerimi yaşarken bu dünyanın zamanından çıkıp kendi dünyamın zamanında olmam gerektiğini, kapsayıcı ve destekleyici olunca ilhamın hayatımın her anında var olacağını, eşsiz ve benzersiz olduğumu, paylaşmanın gerçekten lezzeti arttırdığını ve daha birçok şeyi bana derinden öğrettiğin için teşekkür ederim. iyi dünyalarımız olsun, iyi ki vardın! hoş geldin yeni yaş<3

[bibastibootz]

Happy Birthday!

Es klingelt an der Tür. Thorsten seufzt und schält sich vom Sofa. Auf dem Couchtisch vor ihm steht eine halbleere Tasse Tee, die den regnerischen Tag ein bisschen angenehmer macht. Auf dem Weg zur Haustür muss er lächeln. Vielleicht ist es ja–

„Sebastian“, sagt er zu dem Mann, der vor seiner Tür steht und dessen Haare nass auf seiner Stirn kleben. Trotz des kalten Regens, durch den er sich hierher gekämpft hat, erwidert er Thorstens Lächeln. Seine Hände hat er verheißungsvoll hinter dem Rücken verschränkt. „Was machst du denn hier?“, fragt Thorsten.

Sebastian zuckt mit den Schultern. „Nur, weil wir heute nicht arbeiten müssen, kann ich doch trotzdem vorbeikommen und dir zum Geburtstag gratulieren, oder?“

„Klar.“

„Also“, sagt Sebastian und es sieht etwas unbeholfen aus, wie er da steht. Wie bestellt und nicht abgeholt, seine Lederjacke ein paar Brauntöne dunkler. „Happy Birthday!“, ruft er, eine kleine Spur zu laut, sodass jetzt auch Thorstens Nachbarn wissen müssen, dass er heute Geburtstag hat.

„Danke“, antwortet Thorsten und kann sich das Grinsen kaum verkneifen. Der Anblick von einem nassen, aber lächelnden Sebastian erfüllt ihn mit einer unsagbaren Freude – wie eigentlich immer, aber heute eben besonders. „Willst du reinkommen? Unter dir bildet sich ja schon eine Pfütze.“

Das lässt Sebastian sich nicht zweimal sagen. „Ich dachte schon, du fragst nie“, sagt er und zwängt sich an Thorsten vorbei in den engen Flur. Dabei lässt er seinen Rücken immer zur Wand gedreht. Er fällt fast um, als er sich dann die Schuhe von den Füßen streift und an seinen Socken hängenbleibt.

Thorsten schließt die Tür und beobachtet Sebastians Balanceakt ganz genau. „Was wird das, wenn es fertig ist?“

„Geduld, alter Mann!“

Thorsten hebt seinen Zeigefinger. Lachen muss er trotzdem. „Vorsicht, oder du gehst gleich wieder.“

„Wäre doch schade um den Kuchen“, antwortet Sebastian und beugt sich mit einem Grinsen zur Seite, damit er endlich das hervorholen kann, was er die ganze Zeit hinter seinem Rücken versteckt hat. Zum Vorschein kommt ein Teller mit einem kleinen runden Kuchen, der mit glänzender Schokolade überzogen und in Klarsichtfolie eingepackt wurde. „Du magst doch Schokokuchen, oder?“

Thorsten nickt. „Ich liebe Schokokuchen und das weißt du sehr wohl.“

„Ganz genau.“ Sebastian hebt seine Augenbrauen und wackelt ein bisschen mit dem Kuchenteller vor sich, bis Thorsten ihm den Kuchen endlich abnimmt. Dann hängt er seine triefende Jacke auf und streicht sich ein paar Mal durch das strähnige Haar. Er sieht jetzt zwar aus wie glattgeleckt, aber das ist besser als kalte Regentropfen, die ihm ständig in die Augen laufen. Mit einem zufriedenen Lächeln folgt er Thorsten schließlich ins Wohnzimmer, breitet eine Wolldecke auf dem Sofa aus und setzt sich wie selbstverständlich hin. Hoffentlich trocknet seine Hose schnell.

„Möchtest du einen Kaffee oder Tee oder was anderes?“, fragt Thorsten, als er noch einmal Richtung Küche verschwindet.

„Tee.“

„Alles klar“, ruft Thorsten aus der Küche, gefolgt von dem Klirren von Porzellan und dem aufbauenden Rauschen eines Wasserkochers.

Sebastian lehnt sich zurück und lässt seinen Blick durch das Wohnzimmer wandern. Es ist alles aufgeräumt, so wie immer. Und es sieht so ganz und gar nicht nach Geburtstag aus. Vielleicht hätte er ein paar Luftballons und Luftschlangen mitbringen sollen. Nächstes Mal, denkt er sich.

Nach ein paar Minuten trägt Thorsten zwei dampfende Tassen herein und stellt sie auf dem Couchtisch ab. Dann holt er noch zwei kleine Teller, zwei Kuchengabeln und ein scharfes Messer. Als er sich neben Sebastian auf das Sofa setzt, wendet er sich direkt Sebastian zu.

„Schön, dass du da bist“, sagt er nach einem Moment Stille, so als hätte er erst nach den richtigen Worten suchen müssen.

Sebastian lächelt und hält kurz Thorstens Blick, bevor er zu seinen Händen runterguckt. „Ich, äh“, sagt er und greift ein zweites Mal hinter seinen Rücken. Als er eine kleine Geschenkrolle mit Schleife hervorholt, runzelt Thorsten die Stirn.

„Wo hast du das denn jetzt hergeholt?“

„Frag lieber nicht.“ Sebastian zupft die plattgedrückte Schleife noch einmal zurecht und überreicht Thorsten dann das Geschenk. „Mach einfach auf.“

Mit einem etwas skeptischen Blick öffnet Thorsten die Schleife und legt das Band auf dem Tisch ab. Dann reißt er vorsichtig das Geschenkpapier auf und entfaltet den aufgerollten Zettel, der zum Vorschein kommt.

Sebastian starrt ganz gebannt auf das ausgepackte Geschenk in Thorstens Händen. „Du meintest letztens, dass du mehr Kultur schnuppern möchtest. Und da dachte ich mir–“

„Dass ein Musicalbesuch perfekt wäre“, beendet Thorsten den Satz, als er erkannt hat, was er gerade in den Händen hält – ein Musicalticket.

„Genau.“

Thorsten guckt sich das Ticket an, das sich etwas widerspenstig immer wieder zusammenrollen will. „Das ist ja schon nächstes Wochenende“, kommentiert er.

„Wir haben da keinen Dienst, also hatte ich gehofft, dass wir–“

„Wir?“, wiederholt Thorsten und blickt von dem Geschenk auf.

Sebastian nickt. „Du musst da nicht allein hingehen, ich hab mir auch eine Karte geholt.“

„Achso. Kein ganz so selbstloses Geschenk, hm?“ Thorsten schmunzelt und tippt mit dem Ticket ein paar Mal gegen seine Fingerspitzen. „Ich muss aber gestehen, mir sagt der Titel gar nichts.“

Sebastian wedelt mit seiner Hand in der Luft. „Irgendwas mit Vampiren.“

„Ach ne!“ Thorsten lacht und rollt mit den Augen. „So viel verrät mir ja allein schon der Titel.“

Sebastian zuckt mit den Schultern und greift nach seiner Tasse Tee. „Maja meinte auf jeden Fall, dass es super ist. Und ich vertrau ihr da voll und ganz. Sie meinte, dass es auch dir gefallen wird und sie wünscht uns ganz viel Spaß. Soll wohl ganz lustig sein.“

„Na dann“, sagt Thorsten und legt das Ticket auf dem Couchtisch ab. „Schöne Idee. Danke dir.“

„Gerne.“ Sebastians Wangen werden ein bisschen warm, als er Thorstens Lächeln erwidert. Ihm liegt noch etwas auf der Zunge, also pult er nervös an seinem Daumen herum, bevor er es endlich rausbekommt. „Wir können davor ja auch noch etwas essen gehen“, sagt er schließlich.

„Gerne.“ Thorstens Augen beginnen zu funkeln, als sein Lächeln noch breiter wird.

Sebastian legt seinen Kopf schief. „Oder wir gehen danach noch etwas trinken.“

„Oder beides“, schlägt Thorsten vor.

„Oder beides“, wiederholt Sebastian und kann es dieses Mal nicht verstecken, dass er rot wird. Thorstens warmes Lächeln würde er am liebsten in seine Hosentasche stecken, damit er es immer bei sich hat.

Dann räuspert Thorsten sich und dreht sich in Richtung Couchtisch. „Jetzt erstmal ein Stück Kuchen?“

„Unbedingt.“ Sebastian schiebt einen Teller zu Thorsten und zieht den anderen näher an sich heran. „Ich hoffe, er schmeckt“, sagt er und entfernt die Folie von dem Kuchen.

„Bestimmt“, antwortet Thorsten und greift nach dem Messer. Der Kuchen ist der beste Schokokuchen, den Thorsten je gegessen hat.

für @viennaisalwayscalling (aus ganz unerklärlichen Gründen 🤭)