#young andrea was such an excited puppy

[aragarna]

Luca Argentero as Dr. Andrea Fanti and Sara Lazzaro as Agnese Tiberi (Doc - Nelle Tue Mani, 1x06)

[spacenutspod]

2 min read Hubble Captures Infant Stars Transforming a Nebula This striking NASA/ESA Hubble Space Telescope image features the nebula RCW 7. ESA/Hubble & NASA, J. Tan (Chalmers University & University of Virginia), R. Fedriani This NASA/ESA Hubble Space Telescope image presents a visually striking collection of interstellar gas and dust. Named RCW 7, the nebula is located just over 5,300 light-years from Earth in the constellation Puppis. Nebulae are areas rich in the raw material needed to form new stars. Under the influence of gravity, parts of these molecular clouds collapse until they coalesce into very young, developing stars, called protostars, which are still surrounded by spinning discs of leftover gas and dust. The protostars forming in RCW 7 are particularly massive, giving off strongly ionizing radiation and fierce stellar winds that transformed the nebula into a H II region. H II regions are filled with hydrogen ions — H I refers to a normal hydrogen atom, while H II is hydrogen that lost its electron making it an ion. Ultraviolet radiation from the massive protostars excites the hydrogen in the nebula, causing it to emit light that gives this nebula its soft pinkish glow. The Hubble data in this image came from the study of a particularly massive protostellar binary named IRAS 07299-1651, still in its glowing cocoon of gas in the curling clouds toward the top of the image. To expose this star and its siblings, astronomers used Hubble’s Wide Field Camera 3 in near-infrared light. The massive protostars in this image are brightest in ultraviolet light, but they emit plenty of infrared light too. Infrared light’s longer wavelength lets it pass through much of the gas and dust in the cloud allowing Hubble to capture it. Many of the larger-looking stars in this image are foreground stars that are not part of the nebula. Instead, they sit between the nebula and our solar system. The creation of an H II region marks the beginning of the end for a molecular cloud like RCW 7. Within only a few million years, radiation and winds from the massive stars will gradually disperse the nebula’s gas — even more so as the most massive stars come to the end of their lives in supernova explosions. New stars in this nebula will incorporate only a fraction of the nebula’s gas, the rest will spread throughout the galaxy to eventually form new molecular clouds. Download the above image Explore More Hubble Space Telescope Hubble’s Nebulae Exploring the Birth of Stars Facebook logo @NASAHubble @NASAHubble Instagram logo @NASAHubble Media Contact: Claire AndreoliNASA’s Goddard Space Flight Center, Greenbelt, MDclaire.andreoli@nasa.gov Share Details Last Updated Jun 21, 2024 Editor Andrea Gianopoulos Location NASA Goddard Space Flight Center Related Terms Astrophysics Astrophysics Division Goddard Space Flight Center Hubble Space Telescope Missions Nebulae Protostars Stars The Universe Keep Exploring Discover More Topics From Hubble Hubble Space Telescope Since its 1990 launch, the Hubble Space Telescope has changed our fundamental understanding of the universe. Monster Black Holes Are Everywhere Seeing Light Echoes Hubble Images

[sugar-sweets-fanfic]

Andrea × Fem!Escort

word count - 1,526

WARNING - (NO MINORS PLS), escorts, sex, no protection, fluff

Prompt - You are an escort that is being followed around by a lost puppy, Andrea. He constantly pays you just to talk and loves your attention. After he really wins you over with his violin skills you decide to win him over with your own skills

     This young man has been bothering you for months. Always following you like a puppy. You assumed he was there for the reason most men were there. But, it was as if he didn't know what your occupation was. Even though he did pay to spend time with you. Being in a place with paper thin walls, you can definitely hear moans from the other rooms. 

      Perhaps he was being a gentleman? Or maybe he was just blindly crushing on you. But, that felt too big headed to think of. You just kept going along with it. Unsure how to stop this weird constant encounter with him. However, before you could even think of a way to stop it. Boom, he was in your motel room again. Though this time he brought along his violin. Which was new to you. Andrea hushed your questioning lips. Soon playing a special little piece he wrote. 

     As you sit there, in the middle of the bed. Wearing a laced up turquoise bra and silk shorts to match. You keep your hands folded in your lap as you listen attentively. Your eyes sort of glisten with emotion from how beautifully he played. Once he finished you quickly make sure you look put together. Not wanting to show how much the piece moved you. 

"You're quite the player."

"Thank you.. I hope you don't mind me writing more songs just for you. I..��You uhhh.. What do you call it…inspirować.." Andrea mumbled in an awkwardly frustrated tone. Unable to find the perfect words to use. 

"I-In..spiro..wac?" You question. 

"Heh.. W-Well you make me want to write more pieces to play."

"ah! So I inspire you?"

"Yes! Inspire.. inspirować!" Andrea smiled brightly. 

     Fuck, why was he so sweet to you? Today especially, it bothered you. You wanted to know what he wanted. So better ask now before this overwhelming feeling of frustration ended. "Why? Why are you so nice? I mean.. You don't wanna fuck me? So why be here?"

     Spontaneously, his face grew flush with nerves. "Because I like you a lot.. And I don't need to— do such things to show you my feelings." He shrugged shyly. Hoping it didn't sound too sappy to you. Since you were so rough around the edges. Still, he couldn't help but adore that about you. 

     Now was your turn to blush. His answer made you fall quiet. You still sit there, not moving an inch. There was a way you wanted to show him appreciation. Which was the thing you were best at. Something you felt pretty proud of. Lifting your hand up slowly. Along with the other, to unclip your bra from the front. Revealing your small yet full breasts. Causing Andrea to nearly drop his violin. He quickly averted his eyes as he put away his instrument. 

"W-What are you doing?" He asked in a flustered manner. 

"You've stopped by here everyday for a month. Paying just to talk and now play me music? I wanna give you something special." You smirk. 

"But.. I, I don't want you for your body…I want you.. For you."

"I know.. That's why I wanna have sex with you. Not for the money.. Because I like you a lot." You say as you crawl over to the edge of the bed. 

     He glanced over his shoulder at you. As you beckon him with a few curls of your index finger. Sitting up on your knees as he slowly approaches you. He did his best to keep eye contact with you. Which you found rather sweet. But the mischievous part of you wanted to toy with him a bit. 

"Hey, eyes down here." You point to your chest as you giggle. 

Andrea chuckled shyly as he looked away. "I'm n-not used to this.." 

"Wait, are you a virgin, baby? Because I'm happy to pop that cherry of yours."

      Andrea's eyes slightly widen at your words. As his gaze connected to yours and he nodded. He really never had done anything like this before. So you help him start by reaching over and grabbing his hands. Moving them up to her breasts. Making him cup the soft of her chest. Andrea kept his eyes on yours. When you let go of his hands. They stay up against your chest. Gaining a nice firm grip, squeezing them gently. 

"Mmh..That's it baby. Now let me get a good taste of those lips." You mumble in a hushed tone. 

     You reach up and cup his face. Andrea leaned in along with you. Your lips met and the two exchanged soft kisses. Which soon turns to heavy deep smooches. Filling the room with kissing sounds. Andrea starts massaging your breasts. Earning some sweet muffled moans from you. Which excited the young man more. His kisses start to trail down your neck. You smirk to yourself as he grows more frisky. 

"That's it.. Just follow your instincts." You sigh softly against his ear. 

     Andrea paused for a moment. His hands leave your chest as he pulls back. Cocking his head to the side with a faint smile. Biting his bottom lip as he looks you up and down. "Could you lay on your back, for me?" 

Your eyes light up with excitement. "Yes, baby. I sure will, just— only for you, Andrea."

     Those words hit him hard as he did only want you. Having you all to himself would make him very happy. As those happy thoughts flowed through his mind. He began to remove his pants. The sound of his belt becoming unbuckled got you throbbing. Your hips slightly shift as you pull off your silky shorts. So you were fully nude now. Ready for him whenever he was ready. 

     Andrea blushed at the sight of you. His eyes glued to your core. It looked to be soft and had a nice pastel pink tint to it. The way it glistens lets him know how wet you really were. Making his stiffening shaft harden more. As it starts to stand up on its own. Causing his boxers to protrude significantly. 

"Make me yours baby.. Fuck me with that passion you used to make that song for me." You demand in a hushed tone. 

His brow creased as he lightly shook his head. "I want to make love to you my sweetheart..that's the only passion I have for you, Piękno."

     You practically felt your heart skip a beat. You weren't sure what that foreign word meant. Though, you figured it was definitely something sweet. So you didn't dare question it. All you wanted now was for him to be inside of you. Laying there with your arms extended towards him. He leaned down into your embrace. As he pulled his boxers down enough to free his erection. 

     Andrea tried to simply use his hips to guide himself inside of you. However, you assisted him with your hand. Soon you felt his hardened appendage fill you nicely. A deep gasp was released by your lover. He whimpered at how warm and wet you felt around his girth. Shyly hiding his face against the side of your neck. 

"Feels nice, huh? Don't be shy..go on and start fuc—making love t..to me." You murmured. 

     Feeling sort of timid by using such a word. The usual guys you slept with were so rough. They liked using the term 'fuck' and liked to do it straight away. This was all so new to you. However, you really were enjoying it. 

     A moment later, Andrea did as you instructed. He began to pump his hips slowly against you. As your thighs caged his hips. You moan softly at each hump. Your hands grip the back of his shirt tightly. Andrea's arms wrap snug around your torso. You closed your eyes as you listened to his soft cries of pleasure. It was the thing that nearly turned you on the most. They were so adorable to you, you smiled lightly. 

"Mmm f-fuahh..fuck. Harder.. Please.." You purr in pleasure. 

      Almost instantly he moved his hips faster. Making the bed creak with all the movement that was going on. His cries grew louder as he grew closer to cumming. You could feel the way his cock throbbed. So you decided to throw in some nice tight kegels to add some new sensations for him. 

"Oh w-wow! You're g-gonna make me— ah! I-I need to pull ou…"

      You wrap your legs tightly around his waist. Keeping his pelvis connected to your. "Cum in me…"

     You could barely finish your sentence before you felt a warm rush. His breath hitched in your ear. His arms squeeze around you, but soon loosened. As his orgasm fell and he could finally start to pant. Andrea pulled back to look you in the eye. You were caught off guard by his sad expression. 

"What's wrong?" 

"You didn't.. Get off?"

You sigh in a lighthearted manner and give him a warm smile. As you brush your fingers through his hair. "Shh, it's okay baby. You'll have many more chances to make me cum..but for now get some rest, love."

[adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy]

you’re someone i just want around: I

“And I can't wait another minute

I can't take the look she's giving

Your body rocking, keep me up all night

One in a million, my lucky strike.”

— Lucky Strike, Maroon 5

A/N: this idea started as just random concept drabbling between leyla @sunflowervolvimp3​ and i and we never really thought it would amount to anything tbh!! but as we started putting more and more into the plot and characters, we made the spontaneous decision to make it a full on, multi-chaptered collab fic! we have so many ideas planned and so much to elaborate on and we’re just so mfing excited to share it with you guys :’) any and all feedback is greatly appreciated 💌 we hope you enjoy the first part and that you fall in love with this stupid emotionally unavailable moron the way we did! happy reading!!

andrea’s askbox : leyla’s askbox : ysijwa masterlist : andrea’s masterlist : leyla’s masterlist : 

word count: 17.2k

content/warnings: vampire!harry being a lowkey asshole while downing straight tequila like a psycho, getting to know The Crew, Mitch being the iconic legend he is, mentions of smut, and Harry working his immortal charm on an unsuspecting human girl with a peculiar scent and intriguing personality

///

Harry hates clubs. 

In his two hundred years of life, through many trials and tribulations, through tricky scenarios and annoying encounters, through thousands of unappealing circumstances and patience-testing events, he doesn’t think anything quite compares to the crowded, nerve-wracking experience that is a Los Angeles club on a Friday night during peak hours. 

According to his wise, humble opinion, it’s absolutely fucking petrifiying. He’d rather swallow a stake than have to spend hours in a dimly lit room with synthetic smoke choking his lungs, half-conscious humans stumbling around into him, and the stench of sweaty bodies mixed with liquor fumes, alongside the faint yet unmistakable waft of vomit. 

Yeah, Harry would definitely rather eat a red oak spear than have to shoulder that.

Despite his intense hatred for this Californian city during its after-hours, he can’t deny that he fits right into the scene perfectly. Decades of grooming and practice have made him a prime candidate for the fast-paced characteristics that come with the party nightlife. 

Fitting into these aspects aren’t something he had learned willingly; he didn’t really have a choice on the matter, considering his entire existence depends on mortals immature tendencies to get properly shit-faced and make stupid decisions in tightly-packed glorified bars. Harry never understood that— how a fog machine, strobe lights, and an undergrad amateur DJ could ever seem more appealing than the quiet, stable ambiance of a semi-formal bar. How deranged do people have to be to actually enjoy strangers spilling alcohol on them while attempting to shag someone else two feet away on the dance floor? 

Whenever he dwells too much on that thought, he gets a spiking migraine. After this long, Harry’s just come to terms with the fact that humans are regressing as a species. His conclusion is a bit cynical, perhaps, but hardly difficult to accept. One look at a news outlet provides enough proof to launch an Ivy League research project on the matter. 

He really shouldn’t be complaining, however, because the combination of overflowed close quarters and dampened inhibitions makes it the ideal hunting ground. Picking up a living blood bag at a club is basically as easy as walking through a vineyard and plucking grapes right off the stems. It’s practical, it’s fool-proof, and if he plays his cards right, he gets to feed and gets his more intimate needs tailored (a combo that he and his friends refer to as Laid and Drained).  

So regardless of his distaste towards clubs and their eager inhabitants, Harry had learned to mold his persona to fit the bill, making himself as approachable and desirable as possible. His life literally hangs in the balance; he’d put up with throngs of drunk sorority girls and their affinity for shitty perfumed drinks if it means avoiding desiccation. 

It’s not like it’s hard. All Harry has to do is make himself look more appealing than the other hundred men milling around the establishment, which— if he’s being brutally honest— isn’t that challenging. The moral, physical, and ethical standards of men have dropped frighteningly low since his time. Most of the ones that creep around clubs are overconfident, overzealous, boundary-lacking douchebags who think they’re entitled to a woman’s attention, and therefore make complete, utter fools of themselves in the process of trying to court one into their pants. Buying a girl one Sex On The Beach and dry-humping to Daft Punk isn’t the way to convince her to come home with you. 

Harry has developed his own guidelines and tactics for securing a nightly bedroom companion, and his ideas have been working wonders for him for decades now. 

The first and foremost rule is to clean up nicely. Personal appearance is everything. Humans are visual creatures; they build first impressions solely based on outward attraction. That trait is enhanced the higher their blood alcohol content rises. The drunker someone gets, the shallower they become, and it’s Harry’s job to work that to his advantage. And at the risk of sounding shallow himself, he thinks he does pretty alright in that department. 

Especially tonight, present in all the elements of his physique. He’s clad in a pair of high-waisted tan trousers that have been ironed to a crisp, his fitted graphic tee tucked neatly along his waistband beneath his black leather belt. His t-shirt is probably his favorite part of the entire look. It’s a baby blue sturdy cotton number with pastel yellow detailing along the cuffs and collar and a giant cartoon puppy in a striped bowtie taking up its center, smiling cheekily at the onlooker. Arranged around the doodle in faded Times New Roman bubble letters are the words WE’RE IN THE SHIT. 

Harry loves the irony of the article— the innocence of the drawing juxtaposed by the crude message. The piece is a conversation-starter— people almost always comment on it— and that’s exactly what he needs. Something to draw attention to himself and shadow all the other men. Something that shows he has a personality; that he has taste and a good sense of humor and isn’t just another walking genital. Plus, what person doesn’t enjoy a funny little contradiction, especially when it’s this cute?

On top of his graphic top, he’s wearing a tartan cropped blazer (open, of course) with a creme background and royal blue lines. The hem ends at the bottom of his ribs, exactly where his pants begin, and the jacket's hand-sewn buttons and strap detailings show that it's an expensive garment. It shows that he puts money and effort into how he looks, which is something anyone would appreciate when scoping for a possible hookup.

Harry’s shoes are the most casual factor of his fit. They’re a pair of light yellow Vans that match the collar of his tee. They’re plain, but he keeps them clean and they tie the whole look together without a hitch.

Accessories are everything, as well. Aside from the pearls arranged around his prominent collarbones, the gold-dipped cross hanging from a delicate chain around his neck, and the matching dangling cross earring on his right earlobe (again, he adores irony), he’s sporting a plethora of chunky rings on his hands, each unique and effortlessly complimenting his appearance. On his left hand, his index finger dots a ruby jewel embedded into a thick rusted band, another large metal one with dancing bears on his middle, and two clunky golden letters on his last two digits— his initials, HS. On his opposite hand, he has a medium-width plated ring on his middle finger with peace engraved along its rounded edge, an elegant lionhead number with an amethyst stone snug in its mouth, and along his pinky is a decently-sized opal set into a delicate polished frame. 

His two last rings are the most important of all. The lionhead is his daylight ring, which he hasn’t taken off since he transitioned. It keeps him from bursting into flames everytime the sun hits his skin. The opal was his mother’s, and it was her favorite. 

Harry’s attire is something he’s immensely proud of, even though a good amount of people deem him eccentric in the eyes of modern masculinity. He couldn’t give less of a shit. With his lightly tanned skin, alluring cologne and lacquered nails, his shirt stretching across the defined muscles of his chest and stomach, his broad shoulders and tapering waist, his thick thighs, sharp jaw, jade eyes, loosely tousled chestnut curls, and the vast array of dark ink littering his arms...

He looks good and he knows it. And all the people whose gazes glue to him as he passes by know it, too. Especially a random group of young women in line, who ogle at him shamelessly as he casually strolls past. He treats them to a sly wink, an irresistible dimpled smile, and a soft, cheeky greeting of, “Ladies.”

He gets off on the way they swoon at his refined English accent, giggling and waving. 

The only other component Harry has for succeeding in the club environment is simple, but it’s important: Don’t seduce, romanticize. 

Anyone— even inebriated idiots— can try and seduce a woman. And if she’s had enough tequila shots to cloud her thoughts, they just might succeed. But only a real man can romanticize a girl, and it yields way better results. 

Females are an emotional sect (Harry says that with zero misogyny; it’s just a scientific fact and he actually praises it), which means that if you entertain their interests and fluff their egos, they are bound to fall right into the palm of your hand. It changes the game completely because then they don’t feel that they have to pleasure you, they want to. They pursue the guy who flirts without being too vulgar, who appreciates and acknowledges their efforts, and who can go head-to-head with their wit by carrying unforced banter. They chase after him because he’s showing genuine kindness rather than just sexual interests and if he’s that attentive on the getting-to-know-you front, one can only imagine how skilled he could be in other bases. Chatting up a girl the right way, with patience and courtesy, builds credibility and prowess. And as a thank you, they’re usually more than willing to pay special attention to your needs, as well. 

Thus, romanticizing is always the expert move. So, yes, Harry detests clubs and the disaster that is adult recreation. But he’s fucking amazing at playing it to his favor. He’s great at calculating everything down to the smallest detail and he’s going to piggy-back on those skills for the rest of eternity. He’s so good at what he hates that his closest friends have anointed him the title of Walking Paradox. He’s more than happy to keep it. 

All of these thoughts are circulating around his skull, hyping him up for the game ahead as Harry and his friend group walk up to the bouncer at the entrance of the club they had chosen for the night, faint stars twinkling in the dark sky as the sounds and lights of the city fall away into background static. 

They cruise by the long line of people, hearing sounds of disagreement and grumbling coming from the other patrons waiting to get in. Harry casually tucks his large hands into the pockets of his light brown slacks as he pulls up in front of the burly bald man, who is wearing a black shirt with the club’s name printed in neon letters. The security guard is at least five inches taller than him, overswollen biceps and pectoral muscles rippling under the flimsy material of his work outfit as he crosses his arms over his barreled chest, cocking a single thick eyebrow at the seemingly young vampire. 

Harry delivers a good-natured smile up at the employee, despite the man’s obvious begrudging disbelief at what he is about to try and do. His friends chat quietly behind him, uninterested in what is happening; after years of being acquainted, they know that Harry is going to get exactly what he wants. He always does. 

He’s the best of them, that much is obvious. Not only when it comes to his experience with persuading sexual partners and getting himself a decent dinner, but he’s the best at convincing just about anyone to do anything, neutral of gender. He’s the second oldest of the crew, yet he seems to have the most knowledge and practice under his belt; his easygoing charisma, undeniable good looks, and dazzling smile could sway even the most stubborn of souls. Frankly, he’s so successful in getting his way that no one cares to try and argue for the leader position. Not when they can just sit back and let Harry do all the work. 

“Good evening.” Harry’s deep voice chimes giddily in the direction of the bouncer, his accent particularly heavy for no real reason. “How you doing tonight, mate?”

The guard— whose name tag reads Brock and Harry has to actively stop himself from snorting at how fitting the name is for such a brick of a human— looks down at him with a stony expression, voice flat. “I’m good.”

“Well, that’s great to hear!” The curly-haired boy’s simper widens, dimples popping into place as he skates into his next question with dramatic friendliness. “Haven’t had anyone cause you any trouble tonight, have you?”

Brock blinks once, attitude remaining coldly indifferent even in the face of Harry’s cheeriness. His words, however, are snipped and pointed. “Not yet.”

“I’m guessing you’d like to keep it that way.” The young man comments sympathetically, nodding his head along with the worker. “Totally understandable.” 

“Good.” The employee remarks in the same detached tone, shifting on his feet, obviously growing uncomfortable and irritated with the conversation. “So I’m guessing that means you know you have to get in line.” 

Harry glances over his shoulder at the lengthy expanse of people gathered along the side of the building, a light wind filtering through his freshly-shampooed ringlets as he studies the way the bright sign on top of the club casts alternating rainbow colors across the crowd. 

He makes a disapproving sound by sucking at his teeth, lulling his sight back onto the guard. “I don’t know, man. At this rate, I feel like by the time we get to the front of the line, it’ll be last call.”

“Maybe.” Brock shrugs offhandedly. “It is what it is, right? Fair’s fair.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Harry returns his gesture, but his posture shows no intention of moving, the corners of his rose lip set in a knowing smirk. “But since you’ve been having a good night, do you think you could find it in yourself to just let us through? We’d greatly appreciate it.” 

The bouncer’s face hardens, any shred of professional amiability washing out of his defined features. “I don’t think so.” 

The vampire’s shoulders sag in exaggerated disappointment. “Are you sure? It’s just five of us. Don’t think we’ll do much damage. Right, guys?”

Harry glimpses over his back to his friends, who let their conversation falter for a moment to throw out a chorus of half-assed agreements, trying to keep themselves from snickering. 

“We promise we won’t cause any problems.” Xander speaks up, jutting his chin encouragingly at the man as his lips twitch slyly. He lifts one of his hands, the smallest finger sticking out stiffly and wiggling around. “Pinky swear.” 

The rest of the group bursts into a round of light laughter, causing Harry to release a few airy giggles of his own.  

Xander looks over at Niall, raising his eyebrows and quipping in an innocent manner. “Right, Ni? No funny business tonight. That means no climbing onto the bar again and stripping down to your socks.” 

“That happened one time!” Niall exclaims incredulously, socking the taller boy in the shoulder as the others laugh harder than before, his blue eyes narrowed and face pinched. “Once! And it was only ‘cause Harry challenged me to a tequila shot contest.”

The Irish vampire’s accented voice drops darkly as he reminisces. “Fuckin’ hate tequila. Makes me act like a moron.” 

“As if you’re not one already.” Mitch pipes up in his usual soft dialect, chuckling as he ducks away from Niall’s vengeful fist. 

Harry cranes back to face Brock, thumb playing with his daylight ring as his hands stay relaxed inside his trousers. He shrugs one shoulder easily for emphasis. “See? You can let us through. We pinky swore.” 

The entire charade seems to have only infuriated the security guard more than before, his brows now fully furrowed and a deep, unamused frown etched across his previously pursed lips. His voice is on edge with barely controlled anger. “I’m not putting up with any shit. If you want in, go to the back of the line. If not, leave.”

Harry sighs grandly in defeat, head shaking slightly. “Guess I’ll just have to go the other route, then.”

The creature takes a step forward towards the employee, close enough that their chests almost press together. The bulky man stands his ground, though there’s a flicker of surprise in his eyes at seeing the smaller boy make such a bold move. 

“What the f—?”

Harry locks gazes with Brock, pupils dilating to twice their size, the usual emerald shade of his irises flickering a haunting red and looking sinister in the buttery light of the street lamps. Horror breaks across the worker’s face, the ability to form coherent sentences disappearing from his demeanor. Harry’s heightened senses can hear the way his heartbeat spikes, blood instinctively rushing into his chest as a response to the adrenaline materializing in his veins. The activation of human’s fight-or-flight modes is always so oddly pleasurable. Just feeling how they react so drastically makes Harry’s fangs tingle with longing. Fear is a good condiment, he’s learned; it gives blood’s usual metallic flavor a certain twang.

But at the moment, a beverage from this specific tap isn’t the one Harry has in mind. He has his interests set on something much tangier and full-bodied; maybe Casamigos golden tequila, or Don Julio's Blanco. Preferably mixed with a young office secretary or a Bath and Body Works employee instead of lemon and salt. 

All in all, Brock is just collateral for a much bigger prize, which lies behind the roped off area he holds dominion over. It’s Harry’s job to break that dam. 

Before the large man can fully react, the vampire begins working his compulsion strategy, tone coming out level and soothing, thick with persuasion and teetering along a sleepy undercurrent. “You’re going to let us through, and you’re going to forget we ever met.”

The guard’s pupils enlarge to match Harry’s, the look of utter terror on his face melting right off. His features go slack as the monster’s magical influence works its way through his brain, coating every neuron and bending him to the deliverer’s will. The man reaches over and removes the velvet rope blocking the group’s path, stepping off to the side obediently with an empty expression present across his appearance. 

The leader of the group smiles just as brightly as he had the second he’d walked up to the door. He passes by the worker, giving him a hard pat on the shoulder and feeling the muscular man strain under his supernatural strength. “Thank you very much. You have a nice night, Brock.” 

Harry’s friends follow behind him, echoing his parting message and sharing a collective chortle.  

The second the group dives past the frame of the club entrance, the whole ambiance of the atmosphere changes. Harry walks across the top ledge of the establishment, coming to a halt at the railing that overlooks the main level of the club, his inhumanly sharp eyes bouncing around all the corners of the building to construct some type of familiar layout in his head. Amidst the blinking lights, thick artificial smoke, and swaying bodies, his keen instincts sketch a mental image for tonight’s hunting ground. 

The bar is at the far left corner of the club, squared off and taking up a large chunk of the colorful tiled dance floor. The music station extends across the entire wall at the opposite end of the tavern, stocked with massive speakers and a professional turntable. Harry’s brows jump in mild surprise— it’s not every day that a club puts so much effort into their mixer. 

The animated dancing area is packed with people, the crowd all jumping and grinding to the beat of the bass, moving as one large mass while the rotating strobe lights hang from the cavernous ceiling, bathing their moving silhouettes in neon reds, drunken blues, groggy purples, and electric yellows. The dim surroundings and heavy fog make all the hues more intense, giving the endless party that timeless quality which people tend to enjoy about nightlife. It’s the night to remember effect that movies and shows always hyperbolize; he thinks this way because he’s well aware that not even a third of these people are sober enough to know what the fuck they’re doing, let alone recall it the following day. It’s comically ironic, really. 

But Harry profits off that liquor amnesia, so he brushes away his sardonic skepticism for the time being, settling his lean forearms onto the metal railing that lines the second story of the venue, which is meant to keep shit-faced customers from creating a messy lawsuit. He carefully absorbs the grandeur of it all, leaning his weight forward with a detached sigh, already flickering through the mental menu of his favorite drinks that he has expertly memorized. 

He’s in the process of choosing between a Manhattan— it isn’t a very complicated drink, which is exactly what he’s looking for; something simple and strong— or just straight tequila in a glass when he suddenly feels a familiar presence arrange itself beside him, bumping his shoulder playfully with their own.

Harry snaps out of his recipe retrieval, eyes casting to the side to land on his best friend of almost a century. He cocks an eyebrow expectantly, waiting for the thin, bearded man to make the first move towards conversation.

“You’re a real dick, y’know that?” 

The green-eyed vampire sputters into spontaneous laughter, the edges of his eyes crinkling as the small pits in his cheeks jolt awake. His tone is humorous and full of fake insult for the hell of the joke. “Wow, alright. So I get us into the club that you chose and that makes me a prick? Good to know. You can handle the muscle next time, then, if you’re gonna talk shit.”

Mitch cracks a gentle jesting grin, which is very on brand for him. He doesn’t seem like much, with his skinny, lanky frame, delicate features, shoulder-length hair, and somewhat scraggly stubble. He’s quiet, reserved, and hardly engages with anyone outside of their immediate group. He’s always been that way for as long as Harry could remember. 

When they had met back in 1924 at a speakeasy in New York, Mitch had given off a mysterious vibe that Harry had found amusing and intriguing. His slightly sickly appearance and distant persona made the younger vampire want to get to know him better; it was just so peculiar that this seemingly impassive man was working at an illegal bar as a live musician. One would think that a performer would have to display an engaging character to keep a loyal audience, but Mitch had been all the talk of the underground despite his unemotional coolness. It was startlingly unorthodox and Harry just had to know more. 

Therefore, with a bit of help from his convincing supernatural abilities, he’d secured a spot as the black market club’s leading vocalist. He wasn’t anything worth a Grammy, but he could keep his singing in tune and follow Mitch’s guitar rhythms easily enough, all thanks to his limited experience with piano. He fit right in. 

From the first show they had put on together, it was like they had known one another in a different lifetime. They clicked so flawlessly it was almost fictional. 

Harry was lively and charming on stage, working the crowd to his favor as easily as he could knock back a shot, wrapping every single patron around his jeweled pinky without breaking a sweat. His witty temperament countered Mitch’s timid disposition perfectly and that uncommon dynamic had been the foundation to their friendship. Their humorous shenanigans on stage (which included Harry pinching at Mitch’s ass and making vague vulgar motions at each other while harmonizing) was a hit within the drunken community, and it bled into their personal lives. They went from only interacting on stage to sharing drinks together afterwards, to hanging out outside of work, to deep late night conversations about the world and their experiences.

Soon enough, they were closer than either had expected to become. And once they found out each other’s true identities (Mitch had transitioned during the American Revolution, when a vampire in his battalion had given him blood to heal from a wound, unaware that the next day, Mitch would suffer a fatal gunshot to the stomach that would trigger his transformation) they grew inseparable. They had remained that way ever since. 

Despite his friend’s withdrawn tendencies, the older vampire never hesitates to make his opinions heard, obvious in how he’d just full-bodied Harry with that snarky comment. Even when it’s at his expense, Harry appreciates and respects the rawness of it. He loves the way Mitch is honest and straight-forward with everything that crosses his path— it’s one of his favorite traits about him and definitely one of the characteristics that had led Harry to deem him his best friend. He’s probably the most fulfilling person Harry has ever met and their friendship brings him a type of comfort that he doesn’t receive from anyone else.

Vampires can be so detached and cold not only towards humans, but towards one another, and it gets old at times. It’s unsettling not having someone to truly confide in, and Harry is grateful that Mitch had been so willing to fill that position.   

Due to this, Harry rarely takes genuine offense in Mitch’s digs. They’re normally expressed as a joke and they’ve both been alive for so long that thick skin is a default.

“How was I dick?” Harry inquires, slinking his head to the side with entertained curiosity. “If anything, he was the one being an asshole. I asked him to let us in nicely and he practically spit in my face!”

Mitch snorts in amusement, shaking his head lightly as his eyes streak across the humongous room in the same cunning manner Harry’s had. “You and Xander didn’t have to mock him that way.” 

That’s another thing that makes Mitch the better half of their power duo— he still has a decent shred of humanity in his unbeating heart. Pessimistic conclusions aside, Harry does have a bit, as well...but his is more like a paper-thin pencil shaving than a shred. Barely there, but there, at least. 

The young man returns his companion’s snort, rolling his eyes up to the hanging lights over their heads. “Was just some harmless teasing. Nothing bad came of it.”

Mitch scowls scoldingly. “It was unnecessary and mean.”

Harry mimics his expression with his nose scrunched sarcastically. “We were just taking the piss, and it’s not like he’s gonna remember it anyways. Stop being such a kill-joy.” 

“Stop being such an arrogant little shit.” 

“Or what?” Harry tilts his chin up challengingly, the amber specks around his pupils glinting tauntingly, faint black veins momentarily webbing across the whites of his eyes. He sweetens his voice into a honeyed drawl. “Are you gonna spank me, daddy? Have I been a bad boy?” 

Mitch belts out a feathery chuckle, shoving his friend with enough strength to send a regular human flying across the deck. But since the taller vampire matches his force, he hardly moves an inch. “Fuck off.” 

“I’m being serious!” Harry cackles, turning his hips and sticking out his ass towards his visibly disgusted acquaintance. “Go fucking in, if you want.”

He lowers his voice into a sultry hum, wagging his backside jestingly. “I like it rough, baby. Why don’t you bend me over this railing and show me who’s boss?”

It’s Mitch’s turn to roll his eyes to the ceiling, voice deadpan. “I think I’ll pass.” 

Harry juts his lower lip into a theatrical pout, sniffling faux tears. “You’re rejecting me that quick? Who’s the asshole now, huh?”

His best friend doesn’t even blink. “Still you.”

“I can live with that. And it’s probably a good call on your end to give up all this,” he signals vaguely up and down his tight torso with a ringed hand, grinning as he watches the veteran vampire pretend to gag, “because I don’t think Sarah wouldn’t be too happy about it.” 

Mitch’s humorous face immediately drops, eyes narrowing at the change in topic. “Very funny.” 

“I know, right? I’m a proper comedian.” Harry quips proudly, batting his lashes mockingly. “Where is Sarah, anyways? Have you heard from her lately?” 

Sarah and Mitch...They’re a complex couple, if they can even be called a couple. The two are more like occasional friends with benefits, “occasional” meaning “once every couple of months, if Sarah happens to be passing by.” 

Their relationship is open and very loose, mostly due to the fact that Sarah is fairly new to the world of blood-driven immortality and has decided to take full advantage of it. She’s been using compulsion to travel the world for the last three years since she changed, which had been the result of an unfortunate car accident. 

Mitch had been seeing her casually beforehand, keeping her around for the purpose of having a conventional feeding arrangement. Every time vampires feed, they heal the wounds they inflict with a bit of their blood, proceeding to then wipe the person’s memory with compulsion in order to eradicate any chances of getting caught. The caveat is that if a human dies with vampire blood in their system, they become one. 

Sarah’s death happened the day after she’d spent a night with Mitch, and one can imagine how distressed she had been when she'd awoken atop a metal table in a morgue within the basement of a hospital. Mitch had been there from the very first second she’d opened her eyes to her new life. Or rather, her dead life. He had helped her get accustomed to the next stage (meaning having to cut family ties in order to avoid a catastrophe— the less people that know the truth about the supernatural, the better) coaxing her through transition and teaching her the way to go about the rest of eternity without putting herself and others in danger. 

Vampires rarely have any compassion for life (usually out of spite, which stems from how their own lives were taken from them), so it’s not uncommon that bodies are found drained of blood in back alleys, abandoned warehouses, and washed up on banks of oceans and rivers. It could be either of two reasons, or even both: the monster doesn’t care about the consequences of their actions, or they never learned to control their urges. 

Harry’s crew isn't that careless. Through Mitch, they had learned restraint, taking up his practice of feeding enough to satisfy themselves without killing the host, healing them, and then erasing the occurrence from their memories. Mitch had come up with the tactic to cling to his humanity— to be as kind and nondestructive as possible— but if Harry’s being honest, most of their friends only play along because it’s convenient. No bodies means no police involvement, and no police involvement means being able to settle down in one place for an extended period, not having to stress about the annoying process of bouncing around the world for the rest of their lives to avoid detection. 

Keeping low was for the best, and when things get rough— whether it be a mistake on their part or a disastrous bender caused by another vampire passing through— they resort to drinking from blood bags until things tide over. Mitch has a contact at the nearest hospital, which is how he gets access to the stock, as well as how he managed to clean up Sarah’s passing so quickly. 

All in all, Harry had only mentioned Sarah to tease his friend, knowing the slight sensitivity that comes with the subject. Vampires rarely form emotional bonds, typically because it can get really messy, really fast, whether that connection be to a mortal or to another creature of their species. All of them have baggage of some sort— you can’t die, resurrect, be forced to abandon your family, and be a slave to drinking blood for the rest of eternity and just...be normal. That type of extreme emotional turmoil is corrosive towards love. It’s always better to just avoid it all together. 

That’s why this is so habitual to joke about; it’s a way to deflect. 

Mitch sighs grandly, Harry’s question echoing in his skull. “I don’t know where she is, to be honest. Last we talked was, like, four weeks ago, I think. She was in Japan, said she was drumming for a new upcoming band. Haven’t heard from her since.”

Harry nods his head once in understanding, itching to steer the theme of their conversation elsewhere now that he knows the topic is in a more sensitive state than he’d imagined. He doesn’t want to push Mitch into a depressive episode when they’re supposed to be having a good time. Spending the night consoling his sulky friend in the bathroom of a club is the last thing he wants right now. 

“I guess that makes Sarah the asshole, then.” He pokes jokingly, bumping the older vampire’s hip with his own. “She’s ghosting you. Get it? It’s funny ‘cause she’s actually dead.” 

Mitch’s sad expression shatters like glass, replaced by one of unamused secondhand embarrassment at the shitty pun. “I fucking hate you.”

“All the people who were ahead of their time were hated.” Harry sing-songs, turning up his nose haughtily. “Copernicus, Socrates, Einstein— all of them were hated for being geniuses. I’m willing to carry that same burden.” 

Mitch blinks at him three times. “No one hated Einstein.”

The curly-haired boy’s lips twitch darkly. “I’m pretty sure Japan did.” 

“You’re going to hell.” 

“I’m already there, mate.” 

Mitch shakes his head, but even through the black lights, Harry can see him trying to ward off a laugh. After a moment’s pause, he speaks up again softly. “It’s not that hard to refrain from humiliating innocent people who are just doing their job, H.” 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, you’re still on that?” The broad monster groans in exasperation, palms slapping down on the metal rungs below him. “We were just having some fun! But fine. If it helps you fake sleep at night, I’ll try and keep my condescending flare to a minimum.”

“That’s all I’m asking.” Mitch responds peacefully, tapping his nimble fingers casually along the railing, his action much less violent than his companion’s. “S’not too difficult.” 

“Whatever.” Harry scoffs, returning his intent gaze to the dance floor, scoping out the scene once again in hopes of finding a proper meal for the night. 

He zones in on a group of young women gathered along one side of the bar, their messy giggling and lack of balance giving away that they’re obviously sloshed off their faces. Seems promising enough. 

When he talks once more, his tone holds an attitude that plays on a grumble, but it’s somewhat distracted. “The least you could do is let me have some fun, considering I didn’t even want to come.” 

Mitch huffs, making an entertained noise in the back of his throat. “You say that every single time we go out, and yet you always end up taking someone home. Don’t know why you’re complaining.” 

Harry side-eyes him from his peripheral vision, the corners of his pretty cherry mouth dipping down grudgingly, mood defensive. “You drag me to these things so I’m not going to apologize for making the best of it. I put a lot of effort into my pick-ups! I deserve to get my dick wet.” 

“God, please don’t say that again.” His best mate physically makes a vomiting sound. “You’re acting like a spoiled fraternity douche.” 

Harry’s gaze ignites into flames, his back straightening out as he fully turns to face the shorter man. He’s never been insulted so low before. “Take that back!” 

“Take that back!” Mitch mocks in an exaggerated, high-pitched British accent, attempting to stifle giggles. 

“Take it back! You know how much I hate Gen Z.”

“Okay, boomer.” 

“You’re older than I am!” 

“I know. Your lack of maturity is a constant reminder.”

Harry opens his mouth, prepared to make a sharp comeback about how Mitch should have left the shaggy-haired stoner aesthetic back in the eighties, but then a heavy Irish accent interrupts his rebuttal. 

“What’s all this about getting your dick wet?” 

Both of the vampires turn towards Niall, finding Xander and Adam accompanying him in a loose semi-circle. 

Xander isn’t paying any attention, too busy tapping away at the screen of his smartphone, apparently engaged in a very riveting conversation with whoever is on the other side. Adam has his hands tucked into the pockets of his plum purple wind-breaker, looking over Harry’s shoulder, seeming to be adamantly searching for someone in particular amidst the mob on the level beneath them. Niall is the only one interested in their dying conversation, probably only because he heard something crude being mentioned. 

“It’s nothing.” Harry dismisses, but he can’t help but stick Mitch with a glare. “What’s the plan for tonight, then?”

Adam speaks up for the first time. “Charlotte and Ny texted saying they got here about ten minutes ago. Mentioned they were dancing near the DJ station, so I think I’ll go find them.”

“Sounds good.” Harry bobs his head in accordance. “We’ll see you out there, yeah?” 

Adam returns his action, turning on his heel and heading for the stairs that lead to the bottom floor. The leader of the group watches him trot onto the large spiral staircase, disappearing into the thick throng of people scattered across its wide steps. 

Harry shifts his attention to Xander, snapping his fingers a few times in his direction and giving a two-toned whistle. “What about you? What’s got your head?”

“Not what, who.” Niall teases, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively and making kissy faces at their friend. 

Xander ignores him, glancing up at the green-eyed brunette to let him know he’ll be with him in a second, returning his focus back to his iPhone. After a few more elongated moments of typing, the older man finally locks his device. 

“I have a date.” He throws out casually, almost as if it should be obvious. 

“A date?” Harry reiterates slowly, not quite buying it. Xander doesn’t date. He couch-surfs just as much as Harry does. 

“Mmhm.” Xander glimpses behind his fellow vampire, eyes carrying intention. “It’s just a random dude from Tinder. I thought it’d be easier to set something up beforehand, just so I don’t have to spend the whole night trying to figure out if a guy is making eyes at me or trying to keep his whiskey down.” 

“Smart.” Harry shrugs his sculpted brows, impressed. A cocky grin toys with the corners of his mouth. “But we both know no one will ever compare to me.” 

“Right.” Xander scoffs in a deadpan manner, gifting him a tight, aggravated smile. “If only you weren’t such an emotionally unavailable prick.” 

“Oh, like you’re mentally stable enough for a relationship?” Harry bites back, but it holds no true malice, just some petty rivalry. “Piss off.”

“Happily!” The other vampire exclaims, clasping his hands together for dramatics. “Have fun finding someone out there. I’m just gonna grab a to-go box for my already prepped meal.” 

Harry doesn’t bother watching him leave. Instead, he turns to Niall, pointing at him to symbolize it's his turn to share his plans for the night. “What have you got, Lucky Charms?” 

His friend breaks into a jolly cackle at the nickname, arms falling crossed over his chest, hands absentmindedly squeezing his elbows in thought. “Well, I dunno, Tea and Crumpets. What’s your game plan?” 

Before Harry can answer, Mitch butts in, feeling left out of the banter and somewhat hurt that no one had assigned him an alter ego. “What’s my country-derived nickname?” 

Niall gives the American a slow once-over, shifting in his dark brown Clarks boots, fitted navy slack riding up his thighs and allowing his rainbow polka-dot socks to peek out. He hums lowly in the back of his throat, a grin spreading across his rosy cheeks. “Biscuits and Gravy.” 

Harry chimes in, his own arms casually folding over his strong chest, index finger tapping on his bottom lip as if mulling something over. “I quite like We The People, actually.”

The Irish lad snaps his fingers as if having a sudden epiphany. “Uncle Sam!”

Harry’s emerald eyes twinkle with glee at seeing the way Mitch’s go half-lidded, no longer entertained. “Four Score And Seven Years Ago.” 

“Okay, I think that’s enou—”

Niall wags a finger at Harry, lifting one shoulder in question, seeking approval on his next idea. “Star Spangled Banner?”

Harry copies the boy’s motion from before, snapping his fingers and making jazz hands. “I Pledge Allegiance.”  

“Ok, I get it!” Mitch whines with annoyed finality, pushing off the metal railing with a curt grimace on his scraggly face. 

“You asked!” Niall rationalizes between hiccups of evilly delighted joy, cupping his stomach as if to keep it from splitting open. 

“Won’t make that mistake again.” The older creature grumbles, leaning his back against the rungs and looking off towards the distance, communicating that he’s done being a part of the conversation. 

Once Harry manages to reign in his giggles, he rubs at his nose with the side of his finger, releasing a wistful sigh. He refers to the question Niall had stated before their little bullying fest. “I think I’m just gonna do what I always do— sway a nice, pretty girl into doing some not-so-nice but very pretty things.” 

“Solid.” The Irish bloke remarks, toying with the plastic buttons on his silk beige top. “Not much to do other than that, to be fair. Adam’s usually my wingman, but I guess he abandoned me for a girl’s night.” 

“Mitch is mine, and he knows better than to dip on me.” Harry roughly nudges his best friend with his elbow, dodging to the side when Mitch tries to hit him in return. 

Niall hums softly in amusement. “Maybe I should make Adam sign whatever contract you drafted for that poor bugger.” 

The curly brunette snorts. “Good luck. Adam’s as stubborn as they come. But, hey, if you can’t find anyone, just come to me.” Harry’s irises flit crimson for a millisecond, an ominous smirk buckling his features. “You know I’m always happy to share.” 

“Thanks,” his friend exhales flatly. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“If you’re taking tips,” Mitch pipes up, vaguely signaling at Niall’s shirt with his chin, “maybe don’t wear that stupid shirt next time. The elephant doodles look ridiculous.”

“It’s a good thing I’m not taking fashion tips from anyone who actually enjoyed living in Ohio, then.” Niall snaps in an exaggerated American accent, middle finger jutting towards the other man. “The only thing you know how to dress is a cornfield scarecrow. Must be why you look like one.” 

Harry forces down more laughter, clearing his throat softly. “You’ll be fine. Just don’t get hammered— girls hate that.” 

“Note taken.” The pale boy runs his fingers through his hair, fixing it up and adding texture to appear more laid-back and rugged. “I’ll see you later, then.”

“Later.” The younger vampire recites, giving a big thumbs-up. 

“Good luck out there. You, too, Boston Tea Party.” 

With that, Niall saunters away, leaving a fully laughing Harry and a grouchy Mitch in his wake. 

The two acquaintances decide to follow in everyone else’s example, descending down the looped staircase and chatting about Mitch’s latest gig at a new bar downtown. 

Harry praises Mitch's talent with his guitar, specifically the fact that he found a hobby which he enjoys so much that he’s willing to keep it as a permanent part of his life. It’s easy to get bored of things when you have hundreds of years ahead of you; everything can seem pointless, in the end. But Harry doesn’t think Mitch has ever let himself fall into those types of dark headspaces and he finds that extremely admirable. 

Harry wishes he could say the same. He’s no musical prodigy, that much is obvious, but he is an expert at playing a few specific French songs on the piano by memory. He rarely does it, though; only when he’s in a low state of mind, which— given the origin of how he learned said classical pieces— isn’t something he’s proud of. They’re tied to a very gruesome part of his past that he’d rather bury deep inside, but he can only push back his troubles for so long before they begin to leak out, staining the clean sheet of recovery he had sewn into place. Those arrangements just bring him a warped sense of comfort he can’t explain.

Even though he’s aware of the destructive aspects of the songs, he finds himself humming one now out of instinct as he elbows through squished bodies and flailing limbs. The second he notices he’s doing it, he cuts it off, focusing all his intention on making it to the other side of the room to the bar. It’s a hard trip when it feels like the walls of the building are closing in on him. 

When Harry finally breaks free from the Human Centipede re-enactment that is the club dance floor, he practically collapses onto the sleek glass counter. Death was less painful than that walk. 

He cranes his neck to the side wildly, suddenly remembering that his much smaller, much skinnier, much more crushable friend had been in tow behind him. To his utter shock, he watches as Mitch calmly weeds around grinding drunk couples with the poise and grace of a swan, filling the empty spot besides him without a single ailment in the world. 

Harry blinks at him blankly in silence, almost as if he’d grown an extra set of fangs. 

Mitch flags the bartender from all the way down the counter, not bothering to meet the green eyes peering at him in disbelief. “You’re so fucking dramatic, H.”

“How did you not die? Again?” Harry sputters, sight jutting all around the older vampire’s body, looking for any battle wounds or missing appendages. “I almost lost an arm in there!”

“It’s a good thing it wasn’t your favorite one, right?” Mitch smirks at his own lewd joke, the simper molding into one of genuine kindness when the mixologist slides up in front of them. “Hi, how are you? I’m good, as well, thank you for asking! Yeah, I’ve got something in mind. Don’t worry, I’m not one of the ‘just make me something sweet’ type of assholes.”

Harry zones out the rest of the friendly chat Mitch entertains with the employee, letting his gaze wander around the large auditorium-like room. He dances his vision over the DJ remixing music on top of the stage, head beginning to bop along to the beat that is currently shaking the seven foot tall speakers. He’s pleasantly surprised at how good this specific producer is. 

He continues scoping out the rest of the venue, taking notes of the different clusters of people that seem to hold promise for the plans he has in store later tonight. A small group of hippie friends here, a two-party duo of tipsy stoners there, and a clump of college students at the edge of the ruckus, stumbling around loudly. Things are looking somewhat decent, in his opinion. The hippies seem to be catching his attention more than the others— specifically, the one that looks similar to Stevie Nicks. That’s a fantasy that’s been waiting to be fulfill for decades now. 

Harry lulls his head forward again when he feels Mitch give a squeeze at his elbow, telling him that the bartender is waiting to take his order. He decides to go for the gold tequila, asking for it straight in a highball glass without any garnishes. The worker’s eyebrows jump up slightly at the unorthodox request, but he drops a polite, “Coming right up.” either way.

“You truly have no flavor.” Mitch tuts once their waiter has stepped away to prepare their drinks. “No taste buds whatsoever.” 

“Yeah? Well, you can suck my flavorless dick.” Harry chimes brightly, eyes crinkling shut as a result of a theatrical smile. 

The younger vampire goes to turn back around, legitimately interested in the girl he’d seen that looked like one of his seventies celebrity crushes, already running through scenarios in his head on how he’d get her into his bed for tonight. Weed and ABBA are probably good conversation starters for that, if Harry’s undisputed people skills have anything to say about it. 

As he’s rotating his torso, a blurred image catches his eyes. He does a double-take, honing in on a group of girls that look faintly familiar. He scans them carefully as they huddle around the corner of the bar area, laughing and toasting along to the multiple conversations they all have going at once. They look like the typical posse that would be a backdrop clique in a mainstream movie. 

He knows where he recognizes them from— it had been the same girls he’d spotted earlier up on the second deck.

Harry expertly surveillances each woman, picking out potential candidates as easily as he’d pinch petals off a flower. The one in the center of the group is obviously the leader, present in how she’s the prettiest and is somehow managing to juggle all of these interactions at once. It means she’s used to being the center of attention— probably strives under it. He throws her out as a potential; the last thing he needs is someone who everyone knows and seeks out. He wouldn’t be able to sneak away with her quietly. 

The rest of the girl crew all seem to be the same status-wise, appearing as supporting characters to the main one in the middle. He could choose any one of them blindly and it wouldn’t make a difference. They all seem so tight-knit, they probably share personalities, at this point. It’s like dipping his hand into a jar of jelly beans and they’re all the same flavor. That notion makes him laugh to himself a bit; maybe Mitch was right about his lack of taste. 

Then, Harry spots her, and all the other women immediately go up in smoke. 

It’s hard not to spot her. She sticks out like a sore thumb, but not in a good way. 

The prospective contender is off to the side, sitting atop a barstool with her feet tucked along the footrest, tapping them against the metal rung awkwardly. She’s talking to one of the other people in the group, but the interaction seems forced and not very satisfying, obvious in both of their faces. She’s tracing her middle finger around the edge of her glass cup distractedly, the contents inside barely touched, the ice in her drink long-melted. She seems disinterested in the chaos her friends are causing, her expression bored and borderline regretful, as if she doesn’t want to be here. 

The further he sizes the girl up, the more appropriate she looks for the role he needs filled. Since barely anyone is paying attention to her, that means he can lead her astray without too much resistance from her acquaintances, if any at all. She appears somewhat unimportant to the narrative— merely a background extra— and it makes him wonder what she’s doing with this clique of women that can’t seem to be bothered by her presence. It’s sad, really. Sad, but beneficial, because that means he can succeed in making her the supporting protagonist of his narrative, at least for tonight. 

The girl is attractive, but not anything astronomical. She’s unconventionally pretty in a way that makes her relevant, but not particularly distinct in the eyes of regular men with presumptuous standards. She’s easy to pass up, and if Harry hadn’t been actively pursuing someone of her bashful persona to card into his plans, he wouldn’t have noticed her. At the risk of once again sounding shallow, Harry’s aware that— physically speaking— he’s very much out of her league. His above-average appearance gives off the vibe that he’d fit better with the leader of the group instead of with her, but he doesn’t want someone that would raise suspicions as a result of their absence. This girl, sitting along the edge of the party with barely any purpose and no one to really question her whereabouts, is exactly what he’s looking for. She’s perfectly imperfect for the cause. 

Harry continues to examine her meticulously, analyzing other traits that can give him a better feel for her character. She’s clad in a pair of high-waisted pastel pink silk pants that stop right at her ankles, accompanied by a flouncy creme lace blouse tucked into her waist. Tan wedges, no accessories, delicate rosey nail polish, and minimalist makeup. The boldest thing about her is the brick red shade of her lipstick, which is easily shadowed by the sparkly sequin dresses, five inch heels, and layered tops her friends are wearing. 

Harry likes her outfit, though. It’s concise and safe, which he can appreciate. Yes, perhaps she looks like she belongs in a dentist’s office rather than a Los Angeles nightclub, but he thinks there’s beauty in simplicity. She looks cute, and that’s good enough for him. 

“She seems interesting.” Mitch’s soft voice snaps him out of his detail-hungry haze, drawing him back into the reality that is the black lighting of the club and the deep booming of the music’s bass. 

His friend slides his tall drink across the glass counter, the amber liquid inside warping his reflection. 

“I suppose so.” Harry answers passively, shrugging one shoulder in indifference while accepting the cup, ringed fingers clinking against the crystalline surface. 

He takes a leisurely sip from the straight tequila, its tangy kick sending a warm surge up through his ears and down his throat, spreading into his chest and along the trench of his tummy. Alcohol really is the cure to everything. 

Mitch gives him a deadpan look, the strobe lights alternating across the glossy surface of his hazel irises, highlighting smugness. “You’ve been gawking for five minutes. Put your pride back in your pants and go talk to her.” 

The curly-haired vampire flashes him a light smirk over the rim of his drink, absentmindedly tapping his two initial rings along the bottom of the highball cup. “Ever so blunt, aren’t you?”

Mitch scuffs, taking a swig from his trusty beer bottle. Out of everything, that’s the one aspect Harry despises about his best mate— that he goes to a club and orders the same drink every time. Where was the fun in that? Where was the excitement of trying something new? When you have an eternity, the least you could do is utilize it to your advantage. Cycling through every cocktail in human history is a prime example of making the best out of immortality.  

But Mitch is a creature of habit— as are most of their kind— and Harry knows he won’t shake easily. Not when it comes to surrendering his preferred beverage, and definitely not when it comes to sticking his nose in Harry’s intimate business. Meddling and being irritating are what best friends are for. 

“What can I say? Pep talks are my forte.” The older monster remarks sarcastically, bumping his bottle against Harry’s glass in encouragement, using the spout of his container to point in the general direction of the mysterious girl. “Now go make dinner.”

“But, darlinggggg,” Harry whines playfully, a smirk still tugging at the corners of his slightly liquor-swollen lips. “I made dinner last night. Isn’t it your turn?”

Mitch rolls his eyes and shoves Harry’s shoulder harshly, with just enough force that it actually has some type of impact this time around. “Just go, before she gets creeped out by your staring.” 

Harry’s own irises copy his friend’s actions as he pushes himself up from the bar, rubbing at the new sore spot on his shoulder with an exaggerated pout present. “Ow.”

Mitch blinks at him flatly, fighting off a grin. “You’ve had worse. Go.”

Harry swivels on his heel, once again facing the group of tipsy girls at the other end of the counter. It appears that most of them have dispersed into the dance floor, having found partners to entertain them for the time being, moving to the music as if there are no other people in the room. They had left behind three of their companions, one of which is Harry’s aspiring hookup; he gets the feeling that the two girls had stayed behind out of the kindness of their hearts, feeling too guilty to leave the runt of the litter all on her own. He hopes that’s the case because if so, the second Harry inserts himself into the situation, they’ll take that chance and split, leaving him to tend his meal in peace.

He tucks one large hand into the front pocket of his trousers, the grip on his glass tightening a smidge, rings biting into his skin as the condensation of the chilled tequila cools the small spike of pain. He spins his lionhead ring around his finger within his slacks, gradually drifting closer as he goes through a checklist of prized pick-up lines he could use to garner her attention. He ducks and dodges inebriated club-goers with ease now that he’s had something to take the edge off, finally reaching the end of the bar, slowly coming to a halt right behind his target for the night. 

Harry nearly passes out as soon as her scent hits him. 

It’s faint and tender and nothing quite like anything he’s encountered before, a mixture of honey and lavender that permeates through her normal perfume. He feels like his head’s been put through a wringer, his whole body clenching for a moment as raging sparks erupt across the pit of his belly. He indulges a deep breath, willing the blazing current away in order to keep his cool, but all he can see flashing before his eyes are images of her leaving traces of that smell smeared all over his face as he bobs his head between her quivering thighs.

He takes another penetrating inhale, centering his mind back into the present. He needs to behave.

Her friends spot him immediately, their side of the conversation faltering to ash. They give Harry a wide-eyed once-over, mouths parting in slight shock as they drink up his attractive appearance, gazes lingering along his thick chest as it strains the baby blue material of his tee. Their sights drag across his broad shoulders, dainty collarbones, and strong neck, faces gawking without remorse, blinking emptily at the slope of his sharp jaw and the peaks of his prominent cheekbones. They seem to be at a loss for words the second his dimples indent into place, his brows shrugging in a half-assed greeting before he cocks his head to side a tad, voice velvet as it directs towards the girl they had forgotten existed.  

“I’m guessing you’re the designated driver?”

Y/N jumps slightly in response at the new addition to the painfully dying conversation, not recognizing the heavy English accent and deep baritone that booms behind her. She had been wondering why Melissa and Isabel had stopped talking so abruptly, and she now has her answer. 

Y/N slowly goes to cast a curious glance over her shoulder and Harry can hear the pulse flaring in her neck from the sudden intrusion to her surroundings. His fangs prick along the inside of his bottom lip due to carnal instincts; he has to will them back into receding. 

 When her eyes land on the owner of the random words, her finger immediately halts its swirling motions along the hem of her glass.

‘Fuck.’ is the only thought that registers through her short-circuiting mind. 

The lanky, curly-haired brunette that stands before her gives a gentle yet confident smile, the gesture dazzling even in the low lighting of the atmosphere. He’s absolutely gorgeous, with deep pits carving into his cheeks, perfect teeth complimenting full cherry red lips, eyes the color of a rainforest canopy, and a broad frame that is somehow not overwhelming. He’s sporting neatly ironed tan slacks, a fitted cotton shirt with a cute yet crude graphic at its center, a fancy plaid coat, and crisp yellow Vans without a single smudge in sight.

Y/N can’t help but take notice of all the little details of his fit, especially the accessories. A beautiful pearl necklace laid along his delicate clavicle, a cross resting between his defined pectorals, and a matching earring dangling from his earlobe. Not to mention the array of clunky rings arranged along nimble fingers, hugging a tall glass carrying caramel liquor and somehow managing to dwarf the cup’s size. The extra decoration is sensual in such an unexpectedly delicious manner. 

The hand he has tucked in his pants ducks out to comb through his dark auburn ringlets and Y/N can feel her mouth water at the new round of elegant rings. The action activates the cologne Harry had thoughtfully spritz in specific pressure points along his body, the scent of tobacco and vanilla traveling through the fog-heavy air and causing Y/N’s stomach to summersault. 

The young man is as close to flawless as anyone could ever come. 

Y/N feels an unmistakable sharp pain shoot through her ankle, and she comes to the realization that it had been the tip of one of her friend’s heels. The reality check jars her out of the embarrassing daze he’d spelled onto her, open mouth snapping shut and her lashes fluttering over her previously unblinking eyes. 

“Oh! Uhm—uh—” She clumsily twists sideways to fully face him, swallowing thickly and tasting the remnants of the alcohol she’d barely been nursing. “N-No. I’m not— well, I don’t think…? We Ubered here so that wouldn’t make any sense ‘cause I have no car to drive...so...” 

The boy chuckles softly at her choppy monologue, his laughter warm and inviting, similar to the look reflecting off his shiney irises, the golden flecks around his pupils seeming to swell and shrink from the rainbow lights cascading across them. Despite being caught off guard and utterly embarrassed, she can’t seem to break eye contact with him. The longer she gazes into his eyes, the more relaxed she begins to feel, a fuzzy heat stemming from the center of her belly and spreading up her neck and ears. 

Y/N gulps heavily like before, willing her tongue to produce a less embarrassing comment. “Sorry. Let me...Let me start over…Hi.”

“Hello.” He quips back playfully, lopsided grin widening in fond amusement. He lifts his drink up a bit in greeting. “M’Harry.”

“Y/N.” The girl squeaks out, copying his gesture because it’s easier than forcing her disoriented brain to try and come up with its own. 

Harry flirts his intent up and down Y/N’s body slowly, checking her out without any subtlety. He wants her to know he’s interested. 

When his sight locks with hers again, he bats his lashes sultrily and pours as much passion as he can into his tone, accent weighing in just right. “S’nice to meet you, Y/N.”

Her entire face prickles at how her name sounds dripping from those faultless raspberry lips. She’d pay anything to hear him say it again. “You, too.” 

This is not what Y/N intended. This is most definitely not what she’d intended to happen when she’d reluctantly agreed to go out with some coworkers on a Friday night, giving in simply because she had promised herself she’d be more social within her new job. 

She had moved to California roughly two months ago, wanting to get away from her old life in the small, boring town she hated to call home. Buying the flight had been a drastic decision made when she had been under the influence of something she’d rather not admit, but the following day— after she had sobered up from a wicked hangover— she found herself not wanting to cancel the trip. Found herself craving the excitement and adventure of beginning anew somewhere far away from everything she had ever known. 

All of Y/N’s friends back home had supported her without hesitation, egging her preposterous idea and congratulating her on “getting the fuck out of here.” Her family had been a little less supportive, but after a few heartfelt chats about following your ambitions and a budgeting lesson from her cousin, they had gingerly gotten on board. They understood that keeping her trapped in that lame town where nothing really happened wasn’t the way to ensure her success in life. Therefore, the people closest to her had swallowed their opinions and respected her choice to dive off the deep end, in search of something better beyond the borders of their tiny city. 

Within a week, Y/N had secured a decent job at a semi-popular cafe, courtesy of a connection from a family friend. Within two weeks, after many sleepless nights full of Rocky Road ice cream and the bright white pages of ApartmentFinder.com, she had managed to book a nice flat close to her place of work. It was a miracle, if she’d ever seen one. Especially within the crowded, expensive community that is Los Angeles. Within three weeks, she had been walking out of the giant glass building that was LAX with only two suitcases in tow, boarding an Uber to her new life. 

Things had never seemed more picturesque, she’d thought. Everything was falling into place in a way that seemed almost blessed by the universe.

Then, the culture shock hit. 

California was different. It’s was so fucking different than anything she’d ever faced and she wasn’t prepared for the social difficulties she’d have to hurdle. All her life, Y/N had grown up with the same people around her, spending every school year with them up until graduation, expanding her friend group as time passed. Even after high school, she’d remained closely connected with most of her graduating class. The region she lived in was tiny, tight-knit and friendly; it was hard not to. She couldn’t even go to the store for groceries without bumping into at least three people from her Algebra II class. 

Point being, it had been ages since Y/N had been put in a situation where she actively had to try and make friends. She’d been through that challenge way back in kindergarten and had never been hit with it again. 

Until it smacked her across the head here in LA.

Y/N didn’t mesh well with Californians, she quickly found out. They were all about crazy parties and club-hopping, whereas Y/N had been raised on community cookouts and mass sleepovers. They enjoyed getting cross-faded and streaking down the beach at two in the morning, meanwhile Y/N liked stripping down to her undies and spending the night binging Queer Eye while stuffing her face with Cheeze-Its and Snickers bars. They freely boasted about their sex adventures while bussing down tables at the restaurant, while Y/N’s intimate life had been nonexistent since the move. 

It was just...startling, to put it lightly. It wasn’t what she had expected at all, and that’s mostly her fault for not doing the correct amount of research before jumping headfirst into a cliche LifeTime film. 

Therefore, Y/N had made a pact with herself one month in, swearing to let loose and allow her surroundings to sweep her into a new dynamic— into a new, social butterfly version of herself. She’d started accepting the invitations from her coworkers to go out at night, and she’d started putting more effort into being open to wild experiences, no matter how scary they might seem. Shutting down and refusing to mold to her environment would only result in her having to return home with her tail between her legs, and she’d rather jump naked off a pier than see her parents’ faces wracked with pity. 

And that’s exactly what she’d done a couple nights ago, at the encouragement of the group of girls she was at the club with now. It had, in turn, ended in her coming down with a mild cold, but at least now she’d be able to tell her friends back home a cool story about dropping inhibitions. 

Dropping inhibitions is also why Y/N’s here tonight, dressed in the most party-like outfit she could put together, prodding an overly-boozy drink into her system, attempting to release some of the tension that had been building in her head for the last couple of weeks since she’d left her old life behind. That’s why she’s here, with strands of her blow-dried hair catching on the dark red gloss Melissa has slathered on her mouth in a thick layer. That’s why she’s here, with synthetic smoke scratching at her lungs and drunken men and women bumping into her every two minutes, most of them too busy sticking their tongues down each other’s throats to realize they’d almost toppled her off her seat. That’s why she’s here, with a blasé expression plastered across her features as her coworkers talk over her head without a second thought, her mind far away from the walls of this overhyped horror house. 

Y/N had been thinking about how she’d just started her Disney+ membership, finding comfort in putting together a mental checklist of all the movies she’s going to plow through the second she sets foot past the doorframe of her apartment. Indulging on her childhood was an ideal form of escapism, in her opinion. She’s positive Walt Disney would agree. 

That’s what her brain had been lost in when Harry’s deep, melodic voice had interrupted her daydreams, sending her spiraling into an embarrassing performance of nerve-induced hysteria. 

Now here she is, blinking back at him dumbly, eyes the smallest bit damp from the smoke machine and neon flashes of light. And here he is, smirking at her over the rim of his glass, eyes raking down her wired up body suggestively as he takes a calm sip from what appears to be the straight tequila in his colossal, bejeweled hand. 

The English boy takes a gradual step closer to her, wanting to make sure he’s not crossing any boundaries that would make her uncomfortable. The scent of his cologne intensifies and she feels a fiery heat suddenly pour between her clasped thighs. It just hits her how long it’s truly been since she’s gotten laid and fuck, it’s sad.

Harry begrudgingly peels his attention away from Y/N for a second, aiming his words towards the girls standing behind her with their mouths still opened stupidly. Even from a respectful distance, his warm breath still washes across her jaw and cheek, causing electricity to zip down her spine. “You don’t mind if I steal her for a bit, do you?”

‘Yeah,’ Y/N thinks in the back of her muddled skull, ‘that’s definitely tequila.’

Isabel and Melissa slowly shake their heads in unison, glancing at each other as if to confirm he’d just spoken to them. 

The edges of Harry’s lips jolt into a kind, easygoing smile. “Thank you. Promise I’ll keep her safe.” 

Y/N feels her heart hiccup at his statement. If she’s not insanely mistaken, it appears to have carried an undertone of dirty intentions. God, she’s praying she’s not mistaken. 

The two girls clamber away on their tall pumps, rounding around Harry and pausing for a moment. They make moaning faces and vulgar motions behind him, encouraging Y/N to pursue the stranger. She then watches them disappear into the throng of crowded bodies, leaving her alone with the beautiful boy and her heart slamming against her ribs. 

Y/N focuses back onto Harry, licking her itching lips lightly, not knowing what to say next as he settles himself beside her. He rests his forearm on the counter along with his drink, tucking his other hand back into  his trouser pocket and fixing himself into a comfortable standing position, crossing his ankles nonchalantly. The friction between his jacket and the bar rides his sleeve up an inch or so, and Y/N gets a view of the anchor tattoo he has along his wrist, as well as the upside-down cross inked between his thumb and index finger. 

Harry catches her looking, mouth twitching with a smidge of arrogant self-assurance. He loves when girls drool over his tats. 

“I have more.” He remarks lightly, a pang of condescending pleasure shooting through his chest at the way she jerks and pins her gaze down to the floor. 

Blood rushes into her cheeks at the realization that she’s been caught and Harry’s teeth grind. It’s so hot watching her fidget for him. Maybe he finds her more attractive than he’d originally let on. “Would you like to see them?”

Y/N timidly coaxes herself into locking stares with him once again, looking up at him from beneath her lashes, barely nodding with a soft, “Sure.” 

She looks so pretty like that, he notices, staring up at him all doe-eyed and shy. It’d probably look even better if she were on her knees.

Yeah, he definitely likes her more than he’d thought. 

Harry proceeds to shift about, shrugging his coat off his strong shoulders, letting it slip down his lean arms and reveal the plethora of dark tattoos strewn across his left arm. Y/N watches avidly, drinking up every flex of his biceps under the black paint and every twitch of his pecs beneath his cotton shirt, the tendons along his throat going taut for just a moment. That moment is enough for her to etch the image into the back of her eyelids for the rest of her life. 

Harry tosses the article onto the table, extending his arm over its surface for her to get a better reading. She doesn’t miss the chance, her pupils tracing over every line and stroke of the pen, over every shaded area and meticulous detail. 

His voice comes out as a low, garbled murmur, his own irises studying her features with just as much intensity. “You can touch them, if you’d like. I don’t mind.”

After a moment of hesitation, the brim of her crystalline cup is replaced by the ridges of his smooth, tanned skin. She drags her digits over the naked mermaid, tracing the curve of her figure and the dip of her tail, then passing onto the stem of the large rose, ghosting over every thorn and prickle. Harry can feel her heartbeat through her fingertips and it’s making him throb. 

“They’re very pretty.” Y/N whispers, allowing her touch to fall away, palm finding refuge across the counter. “Did they hurt?” 

“A bit, yeah. But I’ve gotten so many done that I think I grew numb to the needle after a while.” Harry answers, shrugging one shoulder to show it’s no big deal. He grasps his glass once again and takes a drawn-out swig, extending the action just so she can see the way his Adam’s Apple bobs as he swallows. Once the cup is back in its place, his tongue peeks out and swipes any leftover liquid from his rosy lips, which then settle into a coy simper. “Plus, I kinda like the pain.” 

Y/N’s breathing stutters in her lungs and she swiftly swerves the topic onto something much less explicit. “So why’d you ask if I was the designated driver? That’s kind of an odd question. Very out of the blue.” 

Harry lulls his middle finger across the hem of his glass, exactly how she had been doing earlier, the motion weighed by an innuendo. She seems to understand it, present in how she bites into the inside of her cheek. “I just figured that a pretty girl like you would have easily found someone to dance with. So when I saw you sitting here looking all bored with your drink barely touched…I just assumed, I suppose.” 

And there it is again— the blood pouring into her face. Christ, if she keeps that up, he’s going to fucking lose it.

“Thank you, that’s— that’s really sweet. Proper gentleman.” 

Harry runs his bottom lip between his teeth, eyes snapping to her tinted mouth for a second, establishing some sexual tension that he’ll expand on as they go. “Who doesn’t like a guy who knows how to treat a girl, right?” 

Y/N clears her throat softly, obviously phased by his forward compliment, but she tries to play it off. “To answer your question, I— uhm...I’m not really one for the club scene, I guess. Don’t really like it, but I didn’t want to be rude and turn down the invitation.” 

‘Good girl,’ Harry thinks, silently cheering her on for having more brain cells than the typical human. 

“Well, that’s where we share some common ground, then.” He chimes brightly, a soft smile bringing his dimples to life. “I don’t care for clubs, either, but my friends have an affinity for them so here I am.”

He gestures vaguely towards the general direction where he’d left Mitch, continuing his rant. “The choking smoke, the annoying strobe lights, the crowded floor, the drunk morons—”

“Bumping into you without giving a shit.” Y/N finishes his sentence, her vulgarity drawing a boyish giggle from her companion and now she’s convinced she’d do anything to hear him laugh like that again. “And there’s always a faint smell of vomit coming from somewhere.”

Harry slaps his hand down against the glass table in passionate agreement, voice pitching up slightly as his brows jump in emotion. “Right?! It’s fucking disgusting. Don’t understand how anyone could genuinely enjoy it.” 

Y/N nods vehemently, sharing the same expression of utter distaste towards the subject. “It honestly doesn’t make any sense to me, either. Why come here when you can go to, like, a nice bar somewhere, y’know?”

Harry blinks at her in astonishment, her opinion mirroring his own with psychic-like accuracy. “My thoughts exactly.” 

“Great minds think alike.” Y/N responds playfully, taking a hearty gulp from her drink since the first time he’d spotted her from across the room. 

After a comfortable pause, Harry speaks up, also entertaining another sip from his own drink, which is now nearly empty. “Are you from around here?”

She can’t be. Rarely anyone born and raised here is willing to bash the status quo, and never so openly. 

She’s once again mesmerized by the attractiveness of his rings, but manages to get her composure in check. “Kinda. I moved here about two months ago.” 

Precisely his point.

Harry releases a curious hum over the cup between his lips. “Let me be the one to officially welcome you to Cali, then! Where people go to shitty clubs for fun and tan themselves into a strip of leather.”

Y/N sputters out a half-suppressed giggle and Harry’s brows almost furrow at the weird fluttering in his stomach. He rarely gets it.

Y/N takes another deep gulp of what he thinks is probably an Old Fashioned, silently praising the way she’d finished it off so quickly. She crunches an ice shard between her teeth and lets it melt across her tongue before engaging again. “I’m guessing you’re not from around here either though, are you?”

Now it’s Harry’s turn to chuckle a bit and she fights off an endeared smile. 

“What gave it away?” He asks, purposefully doing a thicker, fuller accent, his teasing nature making the grin she’d just stifled fully break through.

Y/N lifts a shoulder offhandedly. “Your accent seems a little too…posh for this area. Or even this hemisphere.”

Harry scoffs softly, the pinky around his glass sticking up jokingly as he kinks an eyebrow at her, a few rouge curls falling across his forehead. “Keen ears, mate.”

Y/N lifts her drink up a bit with a playfully knowing air, mimicking an English dialect. “Cheers.”

He places his empty cup down on the counter, his middle finger once more ghosting around the edge absentmindedly. She notices the pastel yellow polish covering his nails, tiny black smiley faces decorating the lacquer.

“I like your nails.” She admires, tipping her empty lowball towards his hand for significance. “Did you do them yourself?”

Harry glances at his fingers, stretching and wiggling them out, his features taking on a bit of pride. “Sure did.” 

“Don’t think I’ve ever met a guy at a club who could pull off nail polish so easily.” 

The left edge of his lips flicks upwards. “How do you mean?”

Y/N’s gaze bounces back to his and the tone twirling in his jade irises tells her everything she needs to know about keeping this conversation going: he enjoys being praised. 

She chooses her next words carefully, wanting to appeal to his interests. “I mean that it looks amazing on you. The color suits your skin nicely, makes your hands look good.” 

Harry breaks eye contact, glimpsing down at his shoes and she realizes he’s actually trying to hide a blush. The fact that she had managed to coax one out of him boosts her confidence while simultaneously making his own waver. He’s never like this— never so easily flustered. He needs to get it together.

Harry tilts his chin back up, lower lip strung between his two front teeth. His voice comes out as a flirty laugh.

“Known you for maybe,” he looks at the beautiful watch on his wrist symbolically, “ten minutes, and you’re already stroking my ego just the way I like it. I think that’s a record.” 

Y/N doesn’t know if it’s the liquor she’d just consumed too quickly, or if it’s Harry’s intoxicatingly alluring scent dulling the region of her brain that controls fear, but she’s suddenly filled with a strange surge of courage and her thoughts are spilling down her semi-numb tongue before she can stop them. “I’ve been told I’m pretty good at stroking, so an ego’s not too hard to handle.”

Harry cocks an eyebrow, surprised at her brazen reply. He might have misjudged her more than he assumed. However, he can’t say he doesn’t enjoy this girl more than the one he thought he was going to receive. There’s just something about how she can match his banter without a problem, and how they share a lot of the same thoughts and opinions, that just lights a fire in his stomach. 

“Is that so?” His voice lowers in pitch and he scoots a step closer, fingers just barely brushing against her arm as he repositions himself against the bar. His question comes out as a sultry murmur. “What else can you handle?”

Y/N knows that she’s starting to cross a line, and with every passing moment, the likelihood of returning to her friends is getting smaller and smaller. She’s not mad about it. Riding off of the wave of confidence that had inflated her ego earlier, she mumbles her response back with the same tone and texture. “How about you buy me another drink and then maybe you’ll find out?”

Harry gives her a boyish grin and the indents that pop into his cheeks nudge his appearance from an incredibly attractive man to an adorable cheeky boy. He motions to the bartender for another round of drinks, only letting his eyes flicker away from her for the moment it takes to do it. “How do you like LA so far?”

“It’s...alright.” It’s Y/N’s turn to move closer to him now, flicking her hair off her shoulder, hoping that the motion releases the perfume she’d dabbed on her neck while getting ready. Judging by the darkening of Harry's eyes, it does just that. “It’s definitely a change in pace from where I used to live, but I think I’m slowly gaining the reigns. I feel like once I get acquainted, I could grow to love it.”

“LA’s definitely a toggle. You could either vibe with it, or it’ll eat you alive and spit you back out.” 

She bats her lashes at him in stunned fright at his bluntness, his face deadly serious without any twitch or give. 

Harry then bursts into high-pitched laughter, eyes crinkling shut and nose scrunching. “I’m just fucking with you, love. Ease up, hm?”

“You asshole!” Y/N exhales grandly, half in relief and half in indignation, slugging him on the shoulder. All she feels is hard muscle beneath. 

He continues to cackle, sticking his tongue out at her. “Looked like you were about to cry.” 

“It definitely crossed my mind, yeah!”

The bartender arrives with their fresh drinks and Harry tells the man to but both of Y/N’s on his tab. She feels her cheeks glow, telling him he doesn’t have to, but he waves it off and says he’s more than happy to serve such a nice girl as herself. Especially if she “hates the same things I do. Think of it as your initiation gift into the Anti-Club Club.” 

A handful of heartbeats tick by, full of comfortable quietness as they both savor their new beverages. Harry pipes up first, regaining their topic from before.

“But, yeah, Cali’s for sure a special place. You meet some cool people if you hang around for a while. But sometimes,” he pauses for a second, eyes gleaming with something she can’t quite interpret. “But sometimes you can meet a really interesting person in just one night.” 

“I don’t doubt it.” Y/N clicks her nails against her Old Fashioned distractedly as Harry fixes her with that beautiful emerald gaze that makes her ears tingle. She cocks her head to the side knowingly, flashing him a soft smirk. “Sometimes, you just happen to meet that one in a million.”

“A lucky strike.” He adds, lifting his tequila an inch off the counter and tilting it towards her in what appears to be a toast, irises dancing with a certain type of suggestive mischief. “To meeting interesting people.”

The human girl clinks the rim of her lowball to the edge of his cup, shrugging her brows and reciting his comment back to him. “To meeting interesting people.” 

Y/N measures how the rest of their interaction goes by how quickly her drink shrinks. 

When she reaches down to the first ice cube stacked on top, Harry has managed to coax multiple rounds of laughter out of her, his humor startlingly similar to her’s in the most refreshing way imaginable. She quickly learns that despite his broad shoulders, lean torso, dark inking, and flawless features, he’s a complete and total dork. His personality consists mainly of voice impersonations and contorting his expression into an endless array of silly faces, which she takes to easily.

By the time Y/N’s amber drink has reached halfway down its container, the default touch barrier between the two has broken completely. There had been a few caresses prior, but now it’s more frequent, more noticeable, and each touch extends in time. She had been the one to initiate getting physical, which had sat so right in her stomach because that meant he was respectful and patient— definitely unlike most men in clubs. 

The mortal girl had gently shoved Harry’s chest when he’d made an nonchalant joke about how losing his swim trunks at a nude beach had been both the best and worst experience of his life, her cheeks boiling as she had felt nothing but more toned muscle beneath the cotton fabric of his top. She had gone back to tracing at his tattoos the further they got into sharing anecdotes and opinions, glancing up at him for permission in the middle of their exchange and smiling to herself when he’d nodded casually without a second thought. As the conversations continue, they both unintentionally get closer in distance to the point where the arm Harry had settled on the bar is now fully wrapped around the small of her back. She willingly leans into him, their knees and thighs brushing with every shift of their bodies and those minute moments begin to pile up their excitement.

By the time the alcohol in her possession bottoms out, she is nearly sitting in his lap, faces only a few inches apart. Y/N can’t recall half of what she had said, the subject having steered into so many different places that she couldn’t be bothered to keep track. Besides, she’s too focused on trying to keep a straight face as Harry plays footsie with her below the counter, his light yellow sneaker toying with her heeled velvet wedge. 

An important question on his behalf snaps Y/N out of her flirty stupor.

“So how do you like your new home?”

She blinks at him slowly, partially to try and give a seductive tinge to the interaction and partially because the liquor has started to truly settle in. It takes her a few heartbeats to process the inquiry. “I love it, actually. It’s a place of my own, for the first time ever. I couldn’t be happier.”

The corners of Harry’s swollen lips tick in genuine happiness on her behalf. “That sounds amazing. Congratulations on such a big step.” 

“Thank you! What about yourself? Renting anything neat?”

“Oh, I own a condo here.” He mentions casually, outlining the criss-cross pattern along the circumference of his highball glass. “I used to visit so often that I finally just decided to pull the trigger on one.”

“Look at you, investing in real estate.” She says in a teasing voice, her heel grazing around his calf slowly, cheeks sizzling as he parts his legs a bit to allow her the pleasure of traveling higher up.

“Mmhm.” Harry licks his red lips, free hand starting to trace over her own. The tips of his fingers are calloused and cold, the motion of them over her skin almost pulling a tremble out of her body. She does her best to restrain it, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. “Is it nice?” 

“Hm?”

His lips twitch in endearment at how he’s managing to make her lose her train of thought. “Your apartment, darling.”

She rests the rim of her drink on the bottom of her lip as she speaks. “It’s nothing huge or fancy, but it’s a decent size and l can call it home. Can’t get much better than that.”

Y/N loves how Harry's eyes flit to her lips for what she thinks is the billionth time tonight, his vision sketching along the curve of her cupid’s bow and dotting every peak.

Another warm glow of confidence spikes through her veins and she’s talking before she can analyze her thoughts. “Well, at least I think it can’t get much better than that. Although, I could just be biased. Could probably use an outside opinion.” 

It takes Harry a moment to register what she’s suggesting, a light blush creeping up the base of his neck as he realizes how he’s stopped so abruptly. Humans usually never get him this unnerved and it’s one of many times she’s made it happen. “An outside opinion?”

Y/N lists her head to the side. It sounds like he’s accepting the vague invitation, but she’s so anxious to mess this up that she’s second guessing herself with every passing second. However, with every touch, she wants Harry more and more, and that’s enough to propel her towards a more direct approach. “Mmhm. Like yours, maybe. Would you like to come back and see it?”

Harry pauses for a few of her heartbeats, and then bobs his head in acceptance. She can breath again. 

He finishes off the last inch or so of his tequila, a wicked grin creeping its way across his pretty, flushed mouth, long fingers carding into his loosely arranged curls. “I’m more than happy to be of service.”

A smile works its way onto Y/N’s own face at his response, her foot dropping back down his leg slowly. “I’m glad to hear.”

“Mm.” Harry takes her hand completely now and she almost moans at how much bigger his are, his rings pinching a bit, skin rough in some areas, but silky smooth in others. And strangely icy, but she enjoys it. “Shall we say goodbye to your friends first? I wouldn’t want them to worry about you.”

He knows her “friends” couldn’t care less, but he wants to be as much of a gentleman as possible. Romanticize, romanticize, romanticize.

Y/N snorts, knowing full well that they’d probably purposefully embarrass her in front of him as a joke. 

She squeezes his grasp lightly, giving him a soft smile. “You’re sweet, but it’s fine. They were actually behind you earlier, encouraging this whole thing, so I’m pretty sure they won’t mind.” 

Harry hums deep in the back of his throat and the sound melts into a cute chuckle. “I’m glad they helped, then. Think you can deliver them my thanks some other time?”

The young woman chews on the inside of her cheek at his comment, realizing that it suggests he aims on keeping her occupied for the rest of the night and well into the morning. She has to will herself not to lurch forward and kiss at his annoyingly perfect lips right then and there. “I’ll make sure to pass the message along.” 

With one last cocky simper, Harry helps her down from the stool and pays off their tab, offering her his jacket since most of her outfit is made of flimsy fabrics. Y/N takes it appreciatively, lashes fluttering when his scent envelopes her like a blanket. It’s the unique smokiness from his cologne, mixed with a slightly sweeter smell that she assumes is his shampoo, and a bit of something that reminds her of a vanilla candle. The aromas are sewn into every thread of his coat and she can’t wait to have those scents glued all over her more deliberately later tonight.  

Harry turns and plunges them into the throng of partiers, weeding through bodies with a type of determination that makes her insides twist. His arm comes up in front of him as he plows people out of the way with absolutely no regret, leaving her to throw out a few half-assed apologies in his wake. The idea that he’s excited to be alone with her has Y/N’s insides churning. 

Once they escape all of the grinding limbs and tight spaces, stumbling into the cool air of the starry night, she takes a huge gulp of air. She prays it will tide over the jitters running along the inside of her tummy. She has just now realized how riled up he’d gotten her and it’s all coming to a raging boil. 

Harry paces past the bouncer, throwing up two fingers in parting. “Later, Brock.” 

The security guard gives the young vampire a confused look, not recognizing him at all and wondering how he knows his name. 

Y/N repeats Harry’s phrase for the hell of it, squeezing his hand jestingly and he glimpses over his shoulder, grinning at her with sheer amusement and something much deeper swirling around the specks of copper in his irises. If there was a bit more light, perhaps she would have noticed the way his irises had glinted blood red instead of olive green.

She ogles at the way his back muscles shift and flex below his pastel blue shirt, her mind vaguely taking note of the light yellow detailings along the cuffs and collar. The tee is intriguing and fun and she hopes he’ll let her sleep in it after they’re done. 

She also gets distracted by the baby curls decorating the nape of his neck. She’s itching to tug at them and see what his response would be. Would he shiver in her grasp and let out a soft moan, or would he smirk darkly and tell her to go harder?

Harry suddenly halts, snapping her out of her thoughts as he presents his car. Y/N’s jaw nearly falls off. “This is yours?!”

She gawks at the vintage jet black convertible before her, feeling like she isn’t worthy of its chic presence. It looks new, shining in the street lamps like a thousand diamonds, not a scratch or dent in sight. 

Harry unlocks the passenger’s door, opening it and guiding her inside with a gentle pull at their clasped hands, shrugging his brows playfully. “Hope it’s not too shabby for your liking.”  

“Are you kidding?” The human mumbles in awe as she ducks down into the patented leather seat, running her free hand over the elegant cover. She sighs softly at the way his smell is lingering inside the vehicle, just as much as it sticks to his clothes. “I feel like I should bow to it or something.”

He laughs fully now, leaning down to get a view of her sitting prim and proper in his favorite car, looking gorgeous in her flowy silk pants, lace creme blouse, and his own clothes. He gnaws at his bottom lip to withhold a needy groan. “I think you fit right in.” 

Y/N feels warmth erupt into her face and she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, trying to distract her fingers from shaking. “Looks like I’m not the only one that’s good at stroking egos.”

“S’hardly a task. You make it easy, doll.” 

It’s the second pet name he’s called her tonight— it’s strangely vintage, same as his car— and she can’t wait to hear what others he has in store. Preferably in the form of breathy pants and broken whines.

Y/N flicks her gaze up at him through heavy lashes, attempting to stifle a sheepish smile. “Quite the charmer.”

A moment of silence suspends in the air, a light breeze filtering through Harry’s curls, swaying the jewelry around his neck as well as the earring hanging from his lobe. Harry speaks up with a type of hushed desire she hadn’t heard from him yet. “Can I kiss you?”

She blinks up at him once in mild surprise and then releases a sigh of utter relief. “Fuck, I thought you’d never ask.” 

Her hand reaches upwards outside the confines of the car, knitting into the thick fabric of his shirt and yanking him down. The second their mouths meet, it sets off a dozen fireworks in the pit of her stomach. His is softer than she had imagined, wet and warm, and his tongue carries the sourness of the tequila he’d been swishing the whole night. 

Harry’s breath hitches in his throat, and then a quiet whimpery moan streams down his tongue onto her itchy skin. “Christ, that was hot.”

As much as she loves the taste of him— the tartness of the alcohol mixed with an inherent sweetness his lips carry— she forces herself to pull away, but keeps her sweaty forehead pressed to his. “Yeah. It was.”

With one hand still gripping the car door, Harry uses his other to cup her chin lightly, guiding her into another kiss. Now that they have both developed a feel for the other, this one is less tentative than the last. She tastes so fucking good on his tongue, like strawberry syrup—probably from her lipgloss— orange bitters, and bourbon. He just has to have more of it.

A helpless gasp escapes Y/N when Harry's teeth graze against her upper lip, only nipping enough that she craves more. More of anything he has to offer. 

He pulls away and the whine that plucks her vocal chords feeds his eternal soul like nothing else has in a while.  

The young man grins at her for a moment, half in smug satisfaction, half red-faced and desperate, before carefully closing the car door and making his way to the driver’s side. He slides in with ease, shuts his own door and buckles up with a click of the belt. The simple action has never looked so attractive before, but she’s certain that anything Harry does with his ring-covered hands would be attractive.  

He fishes his keys from his front pocket, asking her where she lives in order to try and orient himself. As it turns out, she’s not too far away from his own flat. He knows exactly which condominium she’s referring to without having to even search it up— a perk of living here for a few decades.

He also chuckles to himself a bit at the fact that she hadn’t mentioned he shouldn’t drive under the influence. Vampires have an extremely high tolerance due to their self-healing properties, so the drinks he’d had only gave him a soft, warm buzz. He just finds it comical— and slightly arousing— that she’s so eager to get at him that she’d let that detail slip her mind.

Harry starts the car, but doesnt pull out of the parking spot. Instead, he glances at Y/N as a crease appears in his beautifully sculpted brows. The idea of something displeasing him bothers her, and she’s about to ask what it is when he murmurs a quick, “Just a second, dove.” He reaches across to grab her seatbelt, pulling it over her body and securing it into place on her behalf, making sure it’s nice and proper before leaning back in his seat. He doesn’t know why he cared to do it, but he had. 

The simple action leaves another layer of heat on Y/N’s cheeks. Having him bent over her like that was just a teaser of what was going to unfold later and it already has her mind spinning. She can only imagine how much of a mess he’s going to leave her when there’s no clothes restraining them.

“Thanks.” She whispers, playing with the tips of her fingers.

“No need to thank me. Just wanna keep that pretty face in one piece.” 

He plops one hand on the steering wheel as he shifts into reverse, carefully backing out of his spot. His arm ducks behind her seat, head turning and veins chiseling into his neck. It takes all of Y/N’s willpower not to lean up and begin to darken his tanned skin with hickeys. 

Harry cruises up to the exit of the club parking lot, waiting impatiently for the turn signal, digits tapping away at the leather below them. Y/N can see him throwing pained little glances at her from her peripheral vision, obviously restless to feel her skin sliding against his. Each look causes the warmth between her thighs to swell. 

She’s talking before she can stop herself, voice bashful and soft as ever, yet full of boldness from the liquor she’d consumed. “If you keep looking at me like that, I’m going to do something to you that’s gonna get us both killed.”

The tapping of his fingers halts and he cranes his head to face her fully, ignoring the flashing green arrow on the stoplight before them. 

Harry reaches over the center console, his nose dragging up the length of her cheekbone, causing her to squeak out a tiny whimper at the feathery sensation. It’s the first time tonight he’s touched her so intimately. 

The sentence he grits out next makes her entire body visibly shutter, his breath hot against her ear, damp lips smearing over her jaw as his oath burns into her flesh.

“And if you say something like that to me again, I promise you I’ll pull this car over and make you eat every fucking word.” 

[therenlover]

that list says blurb, so here we go...

young Daniel, LIL era Daniel, playing Sky in Mamma Mia and singing Lay All Your Love On Me

((Okay I took this shit and ran in another direction with it because @creme-bruhlee loves to indulge my ridiculous ideas. Sorry lol))

How The Danny Bunch Would Do Performing "Lay All Your Love On Me" From Mamma Mia From Worst To Best

Number Seven: Laszlo Kreizler (The Alienist)

Poor Laszlo would be absolutely miserable trying to do the whole number.

Like... the whole dance includes push-ups and barrel rolls and all that crazy cardio stuff, so with his arm being the way that it is he would just have a terrible time.

More than once he'd get stuck like a turtle on his back unable to get up from both physical inability and just plain exhaustion.

He'd probably be taken out of the number at his own request about 2 weeks into rehearsals, so we'd never get to actually see him in the diving suit and flippers.

Honestly, it would be for the best though.

I can't imagine how John and Sara would react to seeing him perform.

His dignity would be safe for another day, at least for now...

Number Six: Checo (Paradise Mall)

Checo, though attractive, would not want to be there at all.

Like, he has a million better things to do with his time that don't involve humiliating costumes and hours worth of dance rehearsals every week

He probably wouldn't even show up for the actual performance.

That being said, he'd be around a little longer than Laszlo, and he would actually end up wearing the cute costume at least once, so he doesn't get put in dead last

When it comes to the actual dancing he wouldn't put in any effort

Like... he'd consistently not actually know the moves and would be several beats behind because he'd just halfheartedly follow along with what the other guys were doing.

Checo has potential, and if he actually tried he'd be higher on the list

But he refuses to try, therefore, he is at the bottom of the people actually dancing.

Number Five: Niki Lauda (Rush)

Ah, Niki. What can I even say about Niki...

He, like Checo, does not want to be involved at all.

That being said, Niki is not a quitter, so he would show up and give it his absolute all because he might hate it, but he would refuse to be anything but the best.

That being said, effort can't save everything.

I feel like it wouldn't matter how much Niki rehearsed the moves or did his best to do them right.

He would just look really, really ridiculous.

Not that he would accept that. No, no, no, he would be convinced that he was the absolute best, and when he was confronted with facts that showed him that his assumption wasn't true, he'd get really, really bitter.

In fact, he'd probably even put aside his need to be the best and team up with another dancer if he thought it would mean someone else wasn't better than he was anymore.

More on that later

Also, Niki would look like a fool in the costume.

It's flattering on a lot of people, but with his bouncy little curls it would just be a hot mess

Number Four: Ernst Schmidt (The Cloverfield Paradox)

Schmidt, like Niki, does not want to be involved and is not gifted with the talent that is being able to dance with any semblance of internalized rhythm.

He's a scientist, not a dancer, and that's for good reason.

That being said, Schmidt's attitude is really what sets him about Niki.

He might despise being involved and complain about the experience to anyone who will listen, whether they're in the cast or just strangers, but he would give it a good effort and wouldn't try to tear other people down just because he's a bad dancer.

In the end, he wouldn't do too badly, and he's on the better end of things as far as the Dannys go.

I also think that by the end of the experience, he would be secretly glad he was involved.

Even for hot-headed guys like Schmidt, it can be fun to blow off some steam and just have some stupid fun, even if you make a fool of yourself while doing it.

If any of his teammates recorded it, though, he would simply kill them, so if anyone had a tape of the performance it would have to be a big secret.

Number Three: Andrea Marowski (Ladies In Lavender)

Oh, sweet Andrea would be having the time of his life and I refuse to believe any different.

I have no doubt that he'd be the one that dragged all the other Dannys into this and they couldn't say no because lets be honest, who could risk making Andrea upset? Nobody. Not even the most heartless of bastards.

Andrea is a musician, and he's decently fit and pretty young, so he'd probably do alright with learning the actual choreography.

What he lacks in skill he'll make up for in heart.

That being said, he probably would get so caught up in the excitement of it all that he'd trip over his own feet a few times like an overexcited puppy, so he wouldn't be the very best.

Everyone would tell him he was though, and it would make his whole life.

As for the costume, we basically already saw him in something close to it when he wore the one-piece bathing suit in Ladies In Lavender, so we know he pulls it off well.

He'd look extra funny in the flippers though.

I can see him doing the goofy run with them on backstage and just grinning like a fool saying "Look! Duck feet!"

Number Two: Helmut Zemo (Falcon and the Winter Soldier)

Now, Helmut Zemo may be getting older, but I am a firm believer that he was trained in dance for at least part of his young adulthood.

That means he would pick up the choreography fast, and execute it with a dancer's precision, especially since it isn't super tough skill-wise, it just takes the ability to keep a rhythm in your body and the strength to do the cardio of it for several minutes.

Zemo can do both of those things.

That being said, he is getting older, so he would have some struggles when it came to the more strenuous moves.

The biggest setback for Zemo isn't his skill, or even looking silly in the costume (though I personally think he'd absolutely kill the look)

No, his issue would lay with his ego, because Zemo, even if he thought the whole thing was the stupidest idea he'd ever heard, would need to feel like he was the best.

Just like Niki, he'd get bitter when he realized the attention was going towards someone else.

So, inevitably, he would team up with Niki to do whatever it took to distract the audience and win back the eye of the watchers.

Nobody likes that asshole, so he doesn't to be on top; sorry Zemo.

Also, just for funsies, Bucky and Sam absolutely would come, and they absolutely would make fun of him for it forever as he defended it as an "expression of his inner youth and freedom"

And, Number One: Alex Kerner (Goodbye, Lenin!)

Now, this may come out of left field, but hear me out.

Alex is young and attractive, so he's already got that going for him.

He's also a laborer (he installs satellites) so he would probably be able to keep up with the physical aspects that would be required.

The biggest thing that would make him the most charming and adorable one up there, though, is that he would be doing it all to see little Paula smiling up at him from the audience.

So, even if he thought that whole thing was stupid, he'd put his heart into it.

That combined with his other traits would be enough to win over everybody who saw him as a shining diamond in the rough.

Also, come on, just imagine Alex in one of those wetsuits. He would be too hot for his own good.

Zemo and Niki would totally try to steal the spotlight, but Alex would just be so endearing that nobody would take the bait.

Basically, I wanna give Alex a big smooch after frothing at the mouth as I watch him do high kicks in those stupid flippers

BONUS ROUND

Young Daniel Bruhl would be the one actually playing Sky, because he's the leading man of the bunch.

He'd probably get all shy about the vocal aspect of it.

He would kill it though, no matter how humble he acted about the whole thing.

His costume would be a little different, just swim trunks and the flippers, but he would still rock it and have everybody drooling because duh.

Nobody would be paying attention to him for most of it though.

Because let's be honest, Daniel is wonderful, but the fools doing his backup dancing would be causing enough chaos that people couldn't help but be distracted.

[trashcanband4]

Torn Ch. 7

Torn Masterlist

Pairing: Eventual DarylxOcxRick. Setting: On the road after the CDC. Warnings: None that I can think of.

Cassie woke up the next morning alone in the cube van. As she opened the back of the van she saw that the others were already gathered around the hood of a car looking at a map. When she walked up Rick stopped talking, placed the black roll that Carl had found the day before on the hood and rolled it out. “Everyone take a weapon.”

“These aren’t the kind of weapons we need.” Andrea argued.

“Would you like me to turn over my pistol?” Cassie asked as she pulled the pistol out and laid it on the hood of the car. “I gladly will, I don’t need it to protect myself. Guns will just get us in trouble anyway.”

“That’s not necessary.” Shane told his daughter as he picked up the gun, handed it back to her then gave her an awkward pat on the shoulder. “Cassie’s right.” Shane said with a pointed look at Andrea before he started speaking to everyone. “Daryl, Rick, Cassie and I are carrying. We can’t have people popping off rounds every time a tree rustles.”

“It’s not the tree’s I’m worried about.” Andrea popped off.

“Say somebody fires at the wrong moment and a herd happens to be passing by. See, then it’s game over for all of us. So you need to get over it.” Shane shut Andrea up.

To keep the fight from continuing Daryl started talking. “The idea is to take the creek up about five miles, turn around and come back down the other side. Chances are she’ll be near the creek, it’s her only landmark.”

Cassie, just like everyone else, made sure she had everything she needed in her backpack before she stood at the guard rail waiting for Andrea and Dale to stop arguing and for the others to get ready to go out.

When everyone was ready, Daryl and Rick led the group. Cassie took the back of the search party behind Shane, Lori and Carl. “Shane, Look.” Carl started excitedly showing Shane the knife that he had been given. “Dad said I could carry it and mom said as long as I was car-”

“Keep it down!” Shane whispered harshly at the young boy. “We’re looking for Sophia. You need to focus on the task.” Shane scolded and turned around walking backward, looking around him. When his eyes landed on Cassie she glared at him. Carl caught up to his mom looking like a kicked puppy.

Cassie sped up to walk beside her father. “Do you have to be so hard on him?” she asked quietly. “I know things between you and Lori are…strained, for a lack of a better word, but you can’t take it out on him. He’s just an innocent kid.”

“Yeah, well, Lori told me to stay away from him, so…” he didn’t look at her.

“So don’t seek him out, but when he comes to you excited about something…be nice. If this is how you treat kids…maybe it’s a good thing you abandoned me before you could do anymore damage.” Cassie didn’t look at him as she sped up and left him behind.

When she caught up to Daryl and Rick, they all noticed a white and yellow tent off in the distance. Cassie and Rick followed Daryl while the others stayed further back. Daryl stopped and motioned for Cassie and Rick to stay back while he checked inside the tent. Cassie bit her lip and looked up at the sky with a quick prayer before she looked back at Daryl where he leaned over to look through the tent flap then moved to the corner to attempt a peek inside.

Rick called Carol over to get her to call out to Sophia. Several attempts got no movement from the tent, so Cassie and Rick moved in closer, taking aim as Daryl pulled the door flap aside. As soon as the flap was pulled back the foul stench of a rotting corpse hit them in the faces like a speeding brick wall. As Daryl went in Cassie couldn’t help but drop her bow to cover her mouth and gag. “Pretty sure she’s not in there.” Cassie said with a cough as she backed away from the tent and Daryl popped out.

“What’s in there?” Andrea asked from where the rest of the group stood further away from the tent.

“Some guy. Did what Jenner said. Opted out. Ain’t that what he called it?”

A few seconds after Daryl stopped talking, what sounded like church bells hit their ears and everyone started running toward the sound, all spouting theories of what and who could be ringing them. Soon, they came upon a church, but as Shane pointed out, there was no bell tower or even a steeple.

Rick however didn’t listen and started off for the church in a sprint. The rest had no choice but to follow. Daryl and Rick quietly walked up the stairs to the front double doors and stood off to the side. Cassie and Shane got their weapons at the ready and gave Rick and Daryl a nod, letting them know they were ready for whatever may be on the other side.

As the doors were pushed open, three walkers stood from the pews. Cassie didn’t hesitate to let an arrow loose into a male walker who sat at the front of the room on the right side. Meanwhile Daryl handed his bow to Glenn, and made smooching noises at a female walker to get her attention, Cassie walked around him and to the walker she had shot and retrieved her arrow.

Rick took down the last walker in the room by bashing its skull in with a hatchet. “I’m telling you, it’s the wrong church. It’s got no steeple, Rick.” Shane said again as he walked to the front of the church. Right after he spoke, the bells started ringing again, loud and clear.

Daryl was the first to make his way out of the church and around to the side where they all saw a loudspeaker under the eave of the roof, attached to a timer lower down. Glenn pulled the wires, shutting off the loud nose. “A timer, it’s on a timer.” Daryl panted, disappointed.

“I’m gonna go back in for a bit.” Carol said quietly then started back inside, the rest of the group dispersed after that. Cassie, without announcing it, decided to do a sweep of the building, just to make sure the walkers in the church had been the only one’s around.

She had almost finished rounding the building when she heard Lori’s distressed voice say, “You’re just gonna disappear? You’re not even gonna tell Rick?” Cassie peeked around the building to see that Lori was talking to Shane.

“He’d only try to stop me. No, that’s on you. You tell him what you want or tell him nothing at all. You’re his wife.” Shane replied.

“And Cassie?” Lori asked with wide eyes.

“Rick was always more of a father to her. She’ll be fine without me.” Shane argued.

She listened to them argue until Lori walked away and into the church. Cassie stepped around the building seeing that she wasn’t the only one to overhear Shane and Lori. But when Andrea didn’t say anything Shane started to walk off. “Hey.” Cassie almost shouted. Shane could hear the anger in her voice and he stopped walking, but didn’t turn to look at his daughter. “What the hell, Shane?” she asked as she walked around to face him.

“Don’t take that tone with me.” Shane warned as if he were ever any kind of true parent to her.

“You’re planning on leaving?” she asked, glaring up at him.

“Why do you care? You hate me.” He asked

“Yeah, I do!” Cassie yelled, causing Shane to shush her. She glanced behind her father to see Daryl moved to stand in the doorway of the church watching them. But she turned her eyes back to Shane. “And this is the very reason why. When things get hard instead of making them right you simply remove yourself from the situation. You convince yourself that it’s easiest for everyone when it’s really what’s easiest for you!” she ranted.

Shane just sighed and ran his hand through his thick, dark, wavy hair. “Cassie, I have my reasons.” He tried, but it didn’t do much to calm Cassie.

“Yeah, and they’re all bullshit!” she yelled as she walked around and away from him toward the church where Daryl still stood in the doorway. She didn’t pay him much mind and instead moved down the nearest pew and flopped down at the end of it. She didn’t even realize that Rick and Carl were standing behind it until Rick leaned forward and whispered, “You alright?”

“Yeah, just…fighting with Shane…I’m fine.” Cassie answered.

“You sure?” he asked as he placed his hand on her shoulder and rubbed her neck with his thumb.

“Yeah, I’m sure.” She reached up and placed her hand over his as she gave him a weak smile.

“Alright.” He gave her shoulder a squeeze then stood up and walked out.

“What was that about?” Daryl asked as he walked over and sat down next to her.

“I just found out that Shane’s planning on leaving the group. He wasn’t planning on telling me or anyone else. He was just gonna disappear.” She said as she looked around and realized that they were the last ones in the church. “We should probably catch up to the others.” She sighed and stood up. Daryl stood up too, but instead of following Cassie out of the row of pews he caught her by her hips and pulled her back into him. She smiled and turned around to face him. His lips caught hers as soon as her eyes caught his. She laughed a little as his fingers pressed into her hips as he pulled her close. “What was that for?” she asked when the kiss broke.

“Hate seein’ you upset.” He replied as he let her go and gave her a small nudge toward the door.

They were all standing around in a group outside when Rick and Shane walked up and Shane started barking out orders. “Y’all are gonna follow the creek bed back, okay? Daryl, you’re in charge. Me and Rick, we’re just gonna hang back, search this area another hour or so just to be thorough.”

“You’re splitting us up.” Daryl pointed out, “You sure?”

“Yeah, we’ll catch up to you.” Shane answered.

“I wanna stay too.” Carl spoke up. “I’m her friend.” Shane, Rick and Lori shared a look.

“Just be careful okay?” Lori said, letting Carl know he was allowed to go. “When did you start growing up?” Lori laughed and pulled him in for a hug.

Cassie just stood by and watched Rick and Lori kiss and hug then Rick offered Lori his gun. When she refused to take it and leave Rick unarmed, Daryl surprised them all and offered her his spare gun. Andrea of course rolled her eyes unbelievingly.

Cassie was about to walk off when Lori stopped her. “Hey, would you mind going with Rick and Shane…help keep an eye on Carl?”

“I’m not his nanny anymore, Lori. If you want an eye kept on your son, then learn to do it yourself. I can’t always be there to do it for you.” Cassie snapped, tired of Lori being a half ass mom.

“I get where you’re coming from, I do, and I would go myself, but that would make Carl think that I don’t trust him. You’re more like a friend to him. He won’t get mad if you stay behind.” Lori asked almost pleadingly.

Cassie drew in a deep breath as she thought about it then let it out as she nodded. “Fine, I’ll stay.”

“Thank you.” Lori said in relief then pulled Cassie in for an unreturned hug. “I really appreciate it.”

“Yeah, sure, whatever.” Cassie said as she shrugged Lori’s arms off of her then left the woman to go catch up to Daryl. “Hey,” she touched his shoulder pulling him to a stop, “I’m gonna stay behind with Rick and Shane. Lori wants me to keep an extra eye on Carl. So I’ll catch up to you later.”

Daryl chewed on the inside of his lips as he nodded and glanced around them. “Alright, see you later then.” He said nervously as he placed his hand on her hip then leaned down and pecked her on the lips. Cassie caught the slightest hint of a blush on his cheeks as he pulled back and she smiled when she turned from him and headed back toward the church. It was starting to become obvious to her that Daryl wasn’t much for public displays of affection and she found it incredibly cute.

“Hey, where’s Rick?” Cassie asked as she walked up to Shane and Carl where they sat on the steps of the church.

“Carl, can you give us a minute bud?” Shane asked and Carl nodded and headed to sit over by one of the trees. “You still mad at me?” Shane asked her where she stood leaning against the handrail of the steps.

“You should know by now that I’m always mad at you.” she replied flatly.

“I know it seems like I’m always runnin’ away, but it wasn’t always like that. Not with you and your mom.” Shane started and Cassie finally looked at him.

“Really, because I don’t remember you being there for us, ever.” Cassie said and Shane shook his head. “Were you even there when I was born?”

“Yeah, Rick and I both were. I wanted to be in the delivery room, but your mom wouldn’t let me. So instead, Rick and I sat outside in the waiting room. Just two scared sixteen year olds.” Cassie just stared at him as he laughed quietly and ran his hand through his hair. Her mother had never told her any of this, she never told Cassie anything about Shane other than he wasn’t worth their time and energy. “She wouldn’t let me be a part of your lives. She always said that I was good for nothing, not enough of a man, not strong enough to take care of a family. According to her I didn’t deserve y’all.”

“She never told me anything about you. Up until her funeral I didn’t even know what you looked like.” Cassie admitted even though for some reason she always thought that Shane knew that she didn’t know anything about him. She thought he wanted it that way. She sat down on the steps next to him with a sigh.

“You and your mom are the main reason I went into the police academy. I wanted to prove that I could be worthy of you, but it didn’t work. Nothing was good enough for her. So eventually I stopped trying. There was no way to win your mother over.”

“I always thought you didn’t come around because you didn’t want me.” Cassie said as she dropped her eyes to her hands that were clasped together in front of her as she picked at her cuticles.

“Cassie I always wanted you, to see you, get to know you.” his words, how he said them, Cassie had never heard him sound so sincere.

A few tears slipped down her cheeks. As she looked off in the distance to see Carl tossing a pine cone into the air she wiped them away with the backs of her thumbs. “Then why didn’t you call me back?” she asked, making Shane look at her to see her crying. “After mom’s funeral, after you gave dad your phone number, I stole it off of his phone and called you, why didn’t you call me back?”

“Your step-father told me that if I tried to contact you that he’d get a restraining order.” He said and Cassie just stared at him not knowing if she believed him or not.

“Let’s get back to it.” Rick’s voice behind them put a stop to their conversation.

“You get what you needed?” Shane asked as they stood up.

“Guess we’ll find out.” Rick answered, aggravated with Shane as he walked over to Carl and ruffled his hair.

They had been walking for a few minutes when Rick walked closer to Cassie and asked, “You look like you’ve been cryin’ are you alright?”

She was about to answer him when they heard a rustle in the leaves ahead of them and they all froze and looked to see a deer. It looked back at them chewing, not fazed by them. Shane raised his gun to shoot the deer, but Rick stopped him when he noticed Carl slowly walking closer to the wild animal. Carl inched closer and closer and was a few feet away from being able to touch it when out of nowhere a shot rang out taking down the deer and Carl.

Cassie stumbled back, stunned, while Rick cried out and ran to the aid of his son. “Oh, my God.” They all looked from Carl to see a heavy set older man with a hunting rifle in his hand.

After a lot of yelling the man, Otis, told them that he was staying at a farm house and there was a man there who could help Carl. He started leading them in the right direction but quickly fell behind. “How far? How far?” Rick yelled, several yards ahead of Otis, Shane and Cassie.

“About a half mile! That way!” Otis shouted back, panting for breath as Shane shoved him along. “Hershel. Talk to Hershel. He’ll help your boy.”

“Dad.” Cassie said, getting Shane’s attention. “Go with Rick, I got this guy.”

“You sure?” he asked with a suspicious glance at Otis.

“Yeah, I’m sure. We don’t have time to argue about this. Rick needs you, just go.” Cassie demanded glancing over at Otis.

Shane just nodded and took off after Rick. “I’m so sorry.” Otis told Cassie who just shook her head and urged him to get a move on. While she wasn’t as harsh as her father, she couldn’t make herself be nice to the man at the moment. By the time the two of them got to the farmhouse Shane and Rick were standing on the front porch.

“Where is he, is he alive?” Cassie asked as she walked up the porch steps. Rick numbly led them to a room in the house where a small group of people were working on Carl.

“Do you know his blood type?” the old man she assumed to be Hershel asked while a woman held up an IV bag.

“A positive, same as mine.” Rick answered.

“That’s fortunate.” Hershel said with a look back at the three of them. “Don’t wander far. I’m gonna need you.” he then turned to Otis and asked him what happened.

“I was tracking a buck. Bullet went through it. Went clean through.” Otis replied, still in a slight state of shock himself.

“The deer slowed the bullet down, which certainly saved his life. But it did not go through clean.” Hershel said as he lifted up the pad that he was pressing over Carl’s stomach. “It broke up into pieces. If I can get the bullet fragments out and I’m counting six.”

“If it helps…If Rick’s in too much shock, I have o negative blood. I’ve given to Rick before.” Hershel gave her a nod.

Otis moved to talk to an older woman in the room while the others stood there in shock. Rick started crying, saying that Lori didn’t know. Cassie moved to hug him from the side while Shane pressed his forehead to Ricks. “We need space.” The younger dark haired woman in the room said as she ushered the three of them outside. Rick and Shane talked while Cassie simply tried to stop the tears that slid down her face. “Rick.” The young woman got their attention as she opened the door to Carl’s room letting them in. “He needs blood.”

“You two, hold him down.” Hershel barked over Carl’s cries and groans as he tried to dig a bullet fracture out of Carl. Shane held Carl still by himself so Cassie simply held his hand and attempted fruitlessly to calm him. Eventually though Carl went limp causing their hearts to fall. Shane and Cassie turned to Hershel for an explanation. “He just passed out.”

Not being able to stop them, tears started slipping down Cassie’s cheeks. Shane let go of the now still Carl and wrapped his arms around Cassie’s shoulders. Cassie fisted the back of Shane’s shirt and for the first time ever cried on her fathers shoulder. “Shhh Shhh Shhh, he’ll be okay. I promise.” He whispered as he hugged her a little tighter.

Things quieted down as Hershel dressed the wound and started taking Carl’s blood pressure. Eventually while Rick still gave blood to Carl, he said, “Lori needs to know. She needs to be here. I gotta go find her, bring her back.”

“You can’t do that.” Hershel told him sternly.

“She’s his mother. She needs to know what’s happened. Her son’s lying here shot.” Rick argued.

“And he’s going to need more blood.” Hershel argued back. “You can’t go more than fifty feet from this bed.” Hershel took the needle out of Rick’s arm.

“Well what about Cassie, she can give him blood while I go get Lori.” Rick said with a look at Cassie. She didn’t want to voice what she was thinking around the others so she looked to her father.

“Come on man.” Shane ushered Rick out of the room and Cassie followed. “He’s stable for now.” Shane informed Otis and the woman that Cassie had come to know as Maggie, who waited outside the room.

“Lori has to be here Shane, she has to know.” Rick kept on the subject as they walked into the living room.

“We get that. We do, Rick, but…” Cassie started.

“We’re gonna handle that. But you’ve got to handle your end.” Shane finished for her.

“My end?” Rick asked as he sat down on the couch.

“Your end is being here with your son.” Shane answered. “I know Cassie can give to him, but there is no way I’m letting you walk out that door. I’d break your legs if you tried. I mean, you know that right?”

Rick sighed and looked down at his hands like a broken man. Cassie couldn’t help moving to kneel in front of him. “Look at me.” She said as she took his blood stained hands in hers. Rick slowly turned his eyes to hers. “We all know that if something happened to Carl and you weren’t here that you would never let yourself live that down. You have to stay here. Shane and I will get Lori here. Do you trust us to do that?” Rick looked from Cassie to Shane then back as Cassie before he nodded.

“When you were in the hospital, man you should’ve seen Lori…I mean the strength of that woman…” Shane stopped to laugh softly as he kneeled down beside Katie. “You can’t imagine it. See that…” Shane placed his hand on his best friend’s shoulder, as Cassie stood up and moved to sit next to Rick on the couch. “That’s what you’ve got to have now. Carl…he needs that from you. So you wire yourself tight, my friend.” Shane and Rick pressed their foreheads together. “You’ve got the hard part. Just leave the rest to me, okay?”

“Alright.” Rick nodded and a second later the door to Carl’s room opened and Hershel stepped out.

A conversation was started about how they were going to get the rest of the fragments out of Carl’s abdomen without killing him. Eventually it was decided that Otis and Shane would go to the high school where a Fema trailer had been set up and would have all of the necessary things to get Carl fixed up.

After that conversation was settled Maggie and Cassie decided to take a horse out to get Lori and bring her to Carl. “I’ll trade places with Lori so we don’t lose too many people from the Sophia search party. The three of you will have things handled here when Shane gets back.” Cassie told Rick before she looked at her father. “Please be careful out there.”

Shane pulled her in for another hug then went their separate ways. Cassie followed Maggie out to the stables where they saddled a horse and headed out to the road. They were getting close to the highway when they heard a scream and Maggie kicked the horse making it run faster. Never having been the horse type, Cassie yelped and grabbed Maggie’s shoulders. “Here, use this.” Maggie said as she handed Cassie a baseball bat.

When they got close Cassie took aim and swung at the walker’s head, successfully knocking it to the ground and off of Andrea who had been the one screaming. “Lori!” Cassie called as she slid down off of the horse. Lori turned to her, eyes wide with confusion. “This is Maggie, you have to go with her. There’s been an accident, Carl’s hurt, there’s no time to explain, just go.”

“Rick said you had others on the highway?” Maggie asked and Glenn nodded like a dummy. “Backtrack to Fairburn Road, two miles down is our farm. You’ll see the mailbox, the Name’s Greene.” Just like that with a kick of the horse, Maggie and Lori were on their way to the farm leaving Cassie behind to explain.

“You want to tell us what the hell that was about?” Daryl asked with a motion to the disappearing women.

“Carl’s been shot. He’s at the Greene’s farm.” Cassie stated, then took a deep, tired breath and rubbed at her temples. “It’s a long story, let’s walk and talk.” Cassie then pointed toward the highway and they all started walking again as Cassie brought them up to speed on what happened to Carl.

Once they got back to the highway, Cassie told Dale what happened then they started discussing who was going to the farm and who was staying to look for Sophia. After establishing that Daryl, Dale and Andrea were staying at the highway and Glenn was bringing T-dog to the farm to be treated for the infected cut on his arm, Daryl walked away from the talking group to grab a bag of meds off of the motorcycle. “Keep your oily rags off my brothers motorcycle.” He told Dale as he toss said rag to him. “Why’d you wait till now to say anything? Got my brother’s stash. Crystal, x. Don’t need that. Got some kick ass painkillers.” Tosses them to Glenn. “Oxycycline. Not the generic stuff neither. It’s first class. Merle got the clap on occasion.”

“Ew, too much information there, Daryl.” Cassie told him as she pulled a face and slapped him on his arm.

“So what about you? You goin’ or stayin’?” Daryl asked her, realizing now that she hadn’t said if she was going back to the farm or if she was staying to look for Sophia.

Cassie was silent, thinking things through before she made her decision. “I’m staying.”

Daryl nodded at everyone, “Alright, we all know what the plan is, let’s get to work.”

Cassie helped Daryl and Carol paint a sign on the front glass of a yellow mustang with car window paint then set out a few drinks and a jar of peanut butter. By the time they were done the sun had started setting so they all turned in for the night. Carol took the bed in the back bedroom of the camper while Cassie turned the table and benches into a small bed and Daryl slept on the floor beside her.

Andrea sat in the driver's seat with the parts of her gun all laid out on a towel attempting to put them together. Between the clanking sounds that she was making and Carol’s crying neither Cassie nor Daryl could sleep. Finally, Cassie sat up and Daryl did the same. “I can’t sleep.”

“Wanna go look for Sophia?” Daryl asked and Cassie nodded.

Andrea was too dead set on getting her stupid gun put back together to even notice that the couple had walked out. “You worried about Carl?” Daryl asked as they walked side by side through the woods, shining their flashlights in an attempt to see anything.

“Carl, Sophia, Rick…” she listed off the people that she was most worried about. “my dad.”

“That’s weird.” Daryl said without looking at her.

“What is?” Cassie asked, looking around to see what he was talking about.

“You just called Shane your dad.” He said turning to look at Cassie across his shoulder. Cassie hadn’t even noticed that slip. “Somethin’ happen with you two after the group split?”

“My whole life I grew up thinking that Shane didn’t give two shits in hell about me. Mom made it seem like he ditched her as soon as he found out about me.” Cassie said not looking at Daryl but at the beam of her flashlight as it scanned the woods for Sophia.

“Shane told you otherwise?” he asked with a glance over at Cassie to see her brows drawn together in confusion.

“Yeah. Apparently, both him and Rick were there when I was born. He said he wanted to be in the room with Mom, but she wouldn’t let him.” She answered.

“Do you believe him?” he asked and Cassie shrugged.

“I don’t know what to believe.” She sighed with a shake of her head. “All I know is that he is the only blood family I have left and I don’t want to lose him.” She sighed and rubbed at her temples. “Change of subject please.”

“Did you even want to stay here tonight?” Daryl asked. “Seemed like you had a hard time making the decision.”

“I wanted to go to the farm.” Cassie answered. “I wanted to be there for Rick and Carl, to be there when Shane came back…if he comes back.” As she was talking they walked upon a campsite. A walker dangled from a tree snapping its teeth at them.

“Got bit, fever hit, world got to shit, might as well quit.” Daryl read off of the note stuck to the tree. “Didn’t know enough to shoot himself in the head.” As Daryl moved the beam of his flashlight along the walker’s body it landed on the bare bones of its legs. “Walkers came along and gnawed all the meat off of his legs.”

“Will you just put it out of its misery please?” Cassie asked, placing a hand on her upset stomach.

“Na, he ain’t hurting anybody, ‘sides, I won’t be able to get my arrow back.” Turning around to point the flashlight in her face.

She flinched and shoved the flashlight down. “Please?”

“You didn’t answer my question.” He pointed out and she sighed.

“An answer for an arrow?” she asked and Daryl gave her a nod while chewing on the inside of his bottom lip. “I stayed for several reasons. I told Rick I would stay and I didn’t want to go back on my word. Also, Sophia needs as many people in her corner as possible. But the main reason I stayed?” she asked rhetorically. “You.”

“Me?” he asked, but she shook her head and pointed to the walker, letting him know she wouldn’t answer any more questions until he shot the walker. So he rolled his eyes and turned around just long enough to shoot the walker making it go still and its growls stop.

“Yes, you.” she answered as she leaned down to peek inside the tent. There was just a sleeping bag and a battery powered lamp, nothing that indicated that Sophia had ever been inside. “I knew that if I went back to that farm I would just be sitting there doing nothing but worrying about everything. But if I stayed here with you I would have a distraction. Be it scouring the woods with you, talking to you or just sitting quietly with you. Being with you, helping find Sophia was the better decision.”

“So is that all I am to you, a distraction?” he asked as the two of them started walking again. He didn’t sound mad, just curious.

“No, but you should know that by now.” She said as she stepped in front of him and stopped. “You told me at the CDC that I wouldn’t lose you.” she placed her hands on his neck. “So why does it feel like you’re only letting me halfway in? Like you think I’m going to leave you at any given moment?”

Daryl took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh. “Because everyone does in one way or another.” He shrugged then started walking so she stepped to the side. “My mom,” he paused to clear his throat and she knew what he was about to say was hard for him so she kept quiet, “she died, police said that she fell asleep smoking in bed. The cigarette started a fire and killed her. I was young, but not so young that I didn’t know that she didn’t fall asleep. Truth was she got so drunk she passed out.” Cassie’s eyes squinted, thinking about how much that must’ve sucked as a kid. How much it probably still hurt Daryl to know that his mom cared more about numbing herself than taking care of her kids.

She grabbed Daryl’s wrist as they walked and slid her hand down to hold his, lacing their fingers together. “You deserve better.”

He simply gave her hand a squeeze. “Dad was in and out on benders with random women. Merle was in and out of juvie, jail, even did a stint in the pen. at one point.”

“So who took care of you while they were gone?” she asked, imagining a child version of Daryl, abandoned and alone. No wonder he was the way he was. From the way things sounded she was surprised he had even let her this far in.

“No one.” He shrugged. “I’ve always been better on my own.” A pain shot through Cassie’s chest at his words and her hand loosened in his, but he tightened his grip, realizing how what he’d said could have sounded to her. He stopped walking and pulled her around to stand in front of him then placed his hands on her hips. “Until now.” He gave her a small smile then moved one hand to cup her cheek. She smiled as he closed the distance between them and placed a light kiss to her lips. The kiss quickly turned heated and Daryl picked her up by her hips as she wrapped her legs around his waist. He backed them up to the nearest tree and pressed her against it.

A moan left her lips at the force of her back hitting the tree and the feel of his hardness against her core through the layers of fabric between them. Her hands held the sides of his neck and his held hers sides as their tongues twirled and tangled together. Their flashlights laid on the ground shining useless beams of light out into the distance. When Daryl started kissing her neck Cassie’s eyes landed on them, wasting battery. “Daryl.” His name came out as a pleasured sigh before she blinked out of the pleasure he was sending through her body. “Daryl.”

“Hmm?” he hummed, still lost in her.

“As much as I would love to make out with you in the middle of the woods, it’s probably not the smartest idea.” She told him and he stepped back and set her on her feet.

“You’re right.” He grunted as he scooped up their flashlights and handed her one. “Let’s head back, we ain’t gonna find her tonight anyway.” They headed back to the highway and when they got back they saw that Dale had turned in for the night and Andrea sat on top of the RV on watch. Katie was about to head to the RV when Daryl snagged her hand making her look back at him. She could see him chewing on his bottom lip as he jerked his head to the cube van they had slept in the previous night.

She kept her hand in his and walked with him to the van and only let go to hop up into the back of the truck, when he didn’t follow her she gave him a curious look. “What’re you doin’?” she asked quietly as he grabbed a bit of rope from the floor of the back of the truck.

“Tying up the latch so we don’t get stuck in here.” he answered then motioned for her to pull down the door. So she pulled it down enough for him to reach the latch, he tied it so that it wouldn’t latch closed on them then hopped inside and pulled it all the way down putting them in complete darkness until she flicked on her flashlight. Daryl walked over with a glint of lust in his eyes and she backed up until her back was pressed against the metal wall of the truck. She bit her lip when he placed one hand on her hip and took the flashlight from her with the other, flicked it off and tossed it onto the blanket on the floor behind him.

“But I wanna see you.” she complained.

“We’ve already drained enough of the batteries tonight.” He countered and when he caught her lips in a kiss she no longer felt the need to argue.

A/N: I haven’t touched this story since 2019, so I have no idea who all is still interested and who all still wants to be tagged in my stories. So if I’ve tagged you and you no longer want to be tagged, or if you want to be added to my Daryl taglist just pm me or comment on any of my posts what you wish. How much attention this story gets over the next month or so will determine if I continue this story or not. Also I haven’t watched the walking dead past season 9 because that’s all that’s on netflix at the moment...

Daryl Tag List: @jodiereedus22 @mtngirlforever @zzeacat @moodygrip @hells-mistress @lighthope08 @sapphire1727 @luisadontcurr @ilkaeliseb @twdeadfanfic @ravenodindottir @1lluminaticonfirmed @my-current-fandom-is @coffeebooksandfandom @lonewolf471 @gruffle1 @mblaqgi @calumstuffs @beltzboys2015-blog @neontiger007 @sourwolf-sterek32 @dotslabyrinth @kayln97 @cbarter @chocolatealmondmilkk @daryldixonandfrogs @feartheendlesssummer @topsykretts926-blog @baseballbitch116 @diffidentphantom @valeecruz16

[winchester90210]

The BH 90210 Rewrite. 1x20: Spring Training.

Rewrite Masterlist

Read the previous chapter here!

Chapter Summary: Alongside Brandon, you take a dive into the world of little league. 

Word count: 2,000

Warnings: Swearing, brief mention of violence. Also... I know nothing about baseball.

A/N: Hi everyone! Hope you enjoy this week’s episode! Took an extra week off to focus on my mental health and am feeling much better with everything now. I hope you guys are as excited as the next chapter as I am! It’s almost time for the spring dance :)

My work is to not be reposted/republished, and/or edited without my expressed written consent. (Reblogging is great and encouraged!!)

Feedback is very appreciated and encouraged!! :)

-

"With my dad laid up, we need all the help we can get. We’re practicing today if either of you want to join in on the festivities," Brandon persuades the two of you as you round the corner of the Peach Pit to sit at your usual booth. The familiar scent of pie crust and burgers fills the air, instantly putting your soul at ease. 

"Thanks… but no thanks, slim," Dylan rejects him, sliding into the seat opposite of you while Brandon follows suit. 

"Dylan, I thought you were a total baseball freak!" You tell him.

"I am, but listening to these parents berate their kids from the sidelines all day long," he shakes his head, cringing, "Brings back a whole slew of bad memories."

"But it shouldn't be about the parents!" Brandon protests, "It should be about being on a team, learning fundamentals, having a good time!" 

"That's very noble, Brandon. But when I was playing? It was about winning at any cost necessary.” Dylan argues. Brandon sighs in defeat, looking to you.

"What about you, Y/N/N?" 

"Not a chance,” you laugh. 

"What? Why not?" 

"Brandon… me and 20 kids, in an extremely competitive state? Did you learn nothing from the summer of '85?" You jest. Brandon chuckles at your extreme rejection, sliding a laminated menu your way. 

"Wait… what happened in '85?" Dylan's eyes flicker cluelessly between the two of you, awaiting an explanation.

"Look, it was no big deal. Things got a little heated during one of Eric's little league games," you shrug dismissively, flipping through the Peach Pit's menu as if you didn't get the same thing every time. 

"She beat up a nine-year-old,” Brandon quips.

“I didn’t beat up a—“ you pause, taking in a breath. “To put it simply I… put a kid back in his rightful place. He was picking on my brother, nothing happened that he didn't deserve." 

“What’d you do, tackle him out on the field?” Dylan lifts his eyebrows, amused smile on his face.

“No, of course not!” You duck your head back into your menu, mumbling, “I went out there and hit him in the groin with his bat.” 

-

The kids run out into the field, taking their positions with their needed equipment in hand. You lean back onto the warm metal fence, slipping a pair of sunglasses over your eyes to get a better look at Nat’s team. Without the glaring sun in your eyes.

“This is pathetic!” A young boy, adorned in a bright yellow Dukes uniform comes hurdling out from behind the fence to join Brandon and Steve. “They’re not even wearing uniforms!” 

“So what?” Brandon shrugs, voice hardened, “It’s a practice game.” Steve leans into Brandon to whisper something to him, but since he lacks the levels of common decency that most people acquire by the age of five, he talks loud enough for the whole team to hear. 

“They don’t look so good, Brandon.” 

“It’s okay. They came to play, that’s the important thing.” Man… sometimes Brandon felt too good to be true. You’re convinced there has to be a catch at this point. Gorgeous, smart, great with kids. What’s next? He opens up an animal sanctuary for underprivileged strays? Buys a soup kitchen? “Listen up, you guys. The way you treat your competition is a direct comment on how you play the game. Good sportsmanship counts big time with me and my old man…” as he continues to ramble on, your thoughts begin to shift elsewhere. Like how good he looks. It’s purely criminal for anyone to look so hot in yellow. It’s an inherently unattractive color. Yet, there he is—coaching children in the blazing heat, instilling them with good sportsmanship, and all you want to do is to get him to yourself. That bastard. You shake it off, chalking it up to teenage hormones, and try to focus on the game.

“Hey doofus! You really eat toads!” The same kid whining about uniforms earlier is now directing all of his pent up privilege and ten-year-old angst towards the poor, sweet, small child from Nat's team, the Pitts, further solidifying your desire to never procreate. 

“You’ll throw it better next time, Manny!” Nat encourages the little boy wholeheartedly, clapping for him as loudly as he can. 

“Hey Corey! Throw it to the doofus, he’s a real toad!” Does this kid only know two insults? The smaller brunette, the less athletically gifted child hangs his head, kicking sand around the base plate in frustration. Brandon takes note of it, immediately bounding out into the middle of the game.

“Time out! Crawford, get in the game for Noah!” His voice is stern, and as he approaches the boy he’s in total coach mode. It’s kinda hot... Well, it’s not your fault baseball’s boring. Gotta keep yourself entertained somehow.

Steve stops Randy Crawford from going out from the fence with the back of his hand, and going after Brandon himself, sand slipping from under his shoes. You can’t hear what they're saying but you know it’s not the happiest conversation. Knowing them, you know exactly how this is playing out. You don’t even need to hear them. You can see Steve furrow his brows from the sidelines, and Brandon’s gesticulating with his hands wildly as they talk but can’t make out any words that are flying from their mouths. Brandon, the moral center of Los Angeles wants Noah out for being a little jerk. Steve, being Steve, would probably rather keep the better player in than save the self esteem of a little boy before it’s too late and it no longer exists. It’s not long until Brandon pats Steve hard on the shoulder, storming off the field in a blur of sand and sweat.

Well, that’s your cue to leave, isn't it? You go to follow Brandon out, but Steve stops you short. 

“That boyfriend of yours is a total Boy Scout,” he spits. 

“Well, someone’s gotta be," You scoff, eyes rolling, ”They’re just kids, Steve! This isn’t Major League Baseball. There’s no trophy, there’s no prize. There’s absolutely nothing at stake here. What they need to be doing is having fun, and while that snot-nosed little jerk is out there on the field, they’re all gonna be miserable.” 

-

You flop down onto Dylan's couch, feet up on the armrest as he grabs a soda from the fridge and parks himself on the ottoman beside you. You exhale, eyes fluttering shut for a moment.

"Rough day out with the little leaguers?" 

"Rough day out with Steve," you snort. “I’m so used to being around Brandon I forget that people like Steve Sanders even exist.” 

“Come on, Steve isn't that bad."

"Dylan, you're talking about the guy that got carjacked by a girl he was trying to hook up with, and still bailed her out of jail--despite the fact she robbed him justminutes before--in the hopes of getting laid, only for her to steal his wallet." Dylan's face screws in a mix of amusement and total disbelief.

"Okay, so he's that bad," Dylan laughs. "Sorry to break it to you, Y/N/N, but not everyone is a part of the illustrious Walsh family."

"Not everyone can be," you tease. He gently tosses you a throw pillow from the chair across the room, and you use it to prop up your head. "It’s a tragedy.”

-

“See, what did I tell you? Isn’t he sweet? Isn’t he great?” Brenda watches as you comb through the stray dog’s long gray fur. He really is cute… wet black nose, shaggy gray hair, big puppy dog eyes. But you can’t keep him. “I think he likes you!” 

“Bren, as much as I’d love to take this puppy home, my parents would kill me!" 

“Just take him for a trial run, and if you like him, keep him!”

“Bren—“ 

“Please?” 

“Bren—“

“Come on!” She pleads.

“Fine! Okay, okay. I’ll see if we can take him in tomorrow night,” you concede, giving the dog one last pat on the head. Brenda squeals happily, a grin on her face as she wraps her arms around you. 

-

“He’s great! You’ll love him!” 

"Fine. See you later... Wally."

The four of you watch silently, perched up at the counter of the Peach Pit as Nat's baseball team chows down on slices of pepperoni pizza. We've got Nat to your far left, wondering how the hell they're going to survive against the team from Beverly Hills, then we've got Dylan to your left debating on whether to finally help Nat and shack up with the struggling team, Brandon to your right who hasn't lifted his hand from your upper thigh this whole time which is seriously distracting, and you, wondering how such little boys could devour so much pizza in so little time. 

"You know the improvement from one week to the next is remarkable." You mumble.

"Oh yeah… the kids are showing a lot of promise." Brandon nods absentmindedly, bringing his cup to his lips. 

"But…" Dylan begins, "you still need a pitcher that can put the ball over the plate." 

"Yeah," Nat sighs, "but win or lose, the most important thing is how good the kids feel about themselves." He's trying to convince you, but the more he talks the more you know he's trying to convince himself. 

"Absolutely." You agree. 

"Totally." Brandon nods. 

"Yeah, I mean, in the long run that's all that counts," Dylan shrugs, his voice coated with scepticism.

"Absolutely." Brandon concurs.

"Totally…” You say. “Y’know, I was talking to Andrea about this and she knows a pretty great player from the valley."

They all turn their heads, slowly, with Nat glancing from you to the phone. You roll your eyes at the boys, making your way over to the payphone. The group watches with bated breath behind you as you slip in the quarters and dial her number, waiting for her to pick up. 

"Hello?"

"Andrea, hi! Listen, uh, do you remember the other day? You told me you knew some kid in the valley who was a major blue-chip little leaguer?"

"Oh, yeah! Avery?"

"Yeah… Avery." You twist your head back, giving them a smile and a thumbs up. 

-

"What's Dylan doing? Bringing in a ringer?" Steve scoffs, twisting the metal bat in his hand as he cleans it. You exchange knowing smirks with Brandon as Dylan helps Avery get ready on the sidelines. She takes off her ball cap, releasing the foot of long brunette pony-tailed hair. Gasps are heard from center field, seemingly originating from Noah. Shocker.

"Oh my god! Dude, it's a girl!" He laughs out, adjusting his cap against the wind.

"Poor Dylan, he's really scraping the bottom of the barrel, huh?" Oh, if only you and that misogynistic head of yours knew, Steve-O. And surprise, surprise—Every pitch she's involved in ends up in a home run for the Pitts.

And little by little, much to your joy, Steve is getting progressively more aggravated— tapping feet, flaring nostrils, bugged-out eyes. You’re beginning to like baseball.

Eventually you make your way over to Brenda, off by the sidelines. You watch as they send Davey from the Dukes out, and Manny, the small, athletically challenged boy from the Pitts, isn’t far behind. Brandon perks up, calling a timeout to give what you can only assume is another one of his infamous Brandon talks to his team. After a moment the team breaks up, moving into their correct positions and as Manny chokes up on his bat ready to pitch. You cringe, hiding your face in your hand.

 But it's nothing short of a miracle as Davey throws the ball. It makes contact with Manny's bat, soaring across the field as he jets off across the bases. The catcher from the Dukes runs for the ball, tripping over his own foot and skidding across the grass. The whole team erupts into ecstatic cheers, rushing out and lifting Manny onto their shoulders. You know that Davey blew the pitch for him, you’ve seen him pitch a hundred times. But seeing the joy on that little boy's face, you knew that it didn't matter. 

"Poor kid," Brenda sighs, looking out to the opposite direction to Randy Crawford, the catcher that landed face-first into the grass. "I mean, he really gave it his best-- Wally!" 

"Wally? Bren, what're you-- oh my god! That is Wally!" Off in the distance, you can see the gray ball of hair hurdling towards the baseball diamond.

"That's not Wally! That's Rupert! It's my dog, he's back!" Randy gasps, watching in amazement as his shaggy mutt runs across the crowds and into his open arms. 

"Hey uh," Brandon comes to greet you, but is looking out into the field as well, "isn't that supposed to be your dog, Y/N/N?" 

"No, Brandon," Brenda shakes her head, light smile lacing her lips. "I guess that's Randy's dog…" You sigh, but seeing the little boy giggle with glee as Wally-- er, Rupert, laps at his cheek, there's no troubling emotions to be found. 

"I'm sorry, Y/N/N," Brandon laces his fingers with yours, grabbing your attention with a soft kiss to your temple. 

"I'm not," you assure him. You smile, the sight of the boy reuniting with his long lost dog something straight out of a movie scene. One last look and you turn away from the boy, eyes meeting your boyfriend’s. “Hey, Brandon... have a date for that dance yet?”

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Taglist: @be-patient-be-good​ @mpmarypoppins​ @bevelyhills90210​ @blueoz​ @princess-ghost-alien​ @hueycat2004​ @l4life​ @keepcalm-and-beyou​ @isthatabutterfly​ @rosy-pugs​ @thewalshess​

[duker42]

💜The Tea Shop Part 2💜 Levi x Reader

Part 1 Here!

Levi’s POV:

Y/N trailed behind me out of the shop, griping Harry’s small hand in a comforting way. I look back to see Y/N smile. “Okay! Harry, we need to get you some new clothes and get you cleaned up.” The boy looked up at her, confused. “New clothes? I’ve never had them before.” The look that flashes across her face speaks to her compassion. I notice small tears build up in her eyes. She shakes her head, as if to clear memories from it. I watch her, fascinated.

Walking into a nearby shop, Y/N quickly purchased a new set of clothes and shoes to fit the boy. The boy walks out, proudly holding the box as he questions Y/N. “Why couldn’t I wear them now?” Her clear, bright laughter filled the air. “Harry, you need a very good scrubbing before you put on clean clothes. You look worse than I do after an expedition!” His small giggle warmed warmed my heart, but I grimace, she usually is a dirty brat when we come back into the walls.

“Oi, come on. I know a bath house where we can clean the kid.” I hear myself offer as I turn and walk away. Upon reaching the establishment, I walk in and ask for a private bathing room and towels. After being shown to the bathing room, I remove my jacket and roll my sleeves. I start getting the tub ready while Y/N convinced Harry that he needed this bath and no one was going to hurt him. I think back to my own childhood and frown as I prepare to scrub this dirty urchin.

Coaxing the young child into the bath was hard, but once he hit the water, he played and rubbed the bubbles on himself, giggling. Y/N’s soft smile, almost motherly, took me by surprise. She seemed to actually care about the boy’s well being. “What do you plan to do once the boy is clean Y/N? You can’t take him back to HQ.” I murmured while scrubbing Harry’s hair for the forth time. “I have a place he can go, he will be well taken care of, Captain.” She replied, breaking eye contact with me.

Y/N’s POV:

The Captain looks a bit startled at my reply. I brace myself for the barrage of questions, but hearing none, I look up to see the handsome raven haired man just looking at me. Sighing, I give in to the unspoken demand of his eyes. “I grew up quite wealthy. I was raised by my uncle, who had no children, when my parents died. He never seemed to care for me, besides making sure my needs were met. He just needed me to keep the family money, I guess. I was free to go and do as I pleased. I spent a lot of time roaming the streets of Sina. One day I met my best friend, Sven. He was an orphan that was running away from those disgusting places they kept quote ‘unwanted brats’. He saved me from getting the shit beat out of me by a group of older kids. I realize now that I could have very easily have been just like Sven, if I didn’t have my Uncle. I brought Sven home with me and snuck him into the house. It was a month before it was discovered, and in that time, we had bonded like brother and sister. He had planned to join the Scouts when he was of age, wanted to venture beyond the walls. He taught me how to defend myself, how to spot liars, and how to believe in myself. We were going to take on the world together and defeat the titans. God, we were so naive.” I look at Harry, his hair starting shine under the Captain’s scrubbing. Levi pulls the drain plug on the tub to release the dirty water. Refilling it, he begins to scrub the little boys body, washing the grime from him. Piercing me with his stormy grey eyes, he motions for me to continue. “When my uncle found out some quote ‘street rat’ was staying in his home, he went berserk. He sent Sven back to that hellish orphanage, and no amount of begging or crying would change his mind. He locked me in my room for a week as punishment. When I finally got out of there, I found out that he.....had been beaten to death by the caretakers. I was devastated.” Tears began to fall as I looked away from the boy being scrubbed by my fierce Captain.

“I later found out that he had been beaten to death for stopping the caretaker from violating one of the little girls there. She told me how Sven had saved her that night. When my uncle died, I took my family fortune and I bought the orphanage. I had the caretakers thrown in jail, and proceeded to set it up the way I thought it should be. A loving environment, safe, where children can grow up without worrying about being abused or hungry. Harry, here, will have a chance, a chance that Sven never had. And I joined the Scouts, fulfilling his dream, our dream, of traveling outside the walls.” I stop as I feel a hand grasp my chin, turning my head back towards his penetrating gaze. “You are a good person, Y/N. Most people in Sina would turn a blind eye to cruelty of the world. You are striving to make a change within these shitty walls. That is no small task.” I feel myself blush profusely at his praise.

“There, the brat is somewhat clean. Could use another scrubbing...” Levi grumbles as he releases the bathtub drain for the last time. I snort with laughter as he gives me a hard look. “Captain, the poor boy is raw right now. Let his skin recover!” Huffing, he lifts Harry out of the tub, wrapping him in a large clean towel. The moment Harry’s feet hit the ground, he sprints over to the bench where the packages are waiting. “Y/N! Can I wear my new clothes now???” The little scamp grins as he looks up at me with puppy eyes. “Yes, Harry, lets get you dressed and then we will go to see your new home.” His little eyes widen in excitement and fear as he gleefully rips into the package to pull out his stiff new clothes. Helping him get dressed, I listen to him exclaim over every new item as the Captain cleans up and puts his outfit back to rights.

Leaving the bathhouse, I lead the two down familiar streets until we come to a large private estate, a fence surrounding the property. “This is where I am going to stay???” Harry’s eyes widen as he takes in the large stone front of the house and giggling children running around in the sunshine.

Levi’s POV:

I take in the obvious wealth that comes with an estate like this. It’s like a home Isabel would have wanted to burglarize when we came to the surface. I watch as Y/N goes to the side gate, walking through confidently. There are several kids, running and laughing in the sunshine, lighthearted and free. I follow behind as I push Harry through gently. Looking at how Y/N carried herself and how frugal she was with her Scout’s pay, no one would ever believe she had grown up in this house. Walking through the garden, a woman around Y/N’s age met us at a table where she was setting out afternoon snacks for the kids. “Y/N! We weren’t expecting you today! What a lovely surprise!” The gentle woman greets Y/N warmly as she rushes over to pull her in for a quick hug. “Sandra, you look as lovely as ever! How is everyone?” Y/N smiles fondly as the lady is quick to look behind her and see Harry and I. “Everyone is fantastic. I see you have brought us a new addition to our happy home. Have you also brought a beau by?” She coyly asks. My eyes widen slightly at the idea of courting Y/N. “Sandra! No this is my squad leader, Captain Levi. Captain Levi, this is headmistress Sandra. She oversees the orphanage for me. This young man beside him is Harry. We became friends this morning. Harry, please come say hi to a friend of mine.” Harry came forward shyly, but quickly warmed up to the effervescent woman. I nod and say a quick hello as I take in the obvious closeness between the two women.

Staying for tea time, I listen as Sandra and Y/N caught up on the happenings around the orphanage. One of the older children, a girl named Andrea, was adopted last week and seemed to be settling in nicely with her new family. “When will the next home check be, Sandra?” I hear as I stir my fresh cup of tea. I shift in my seat as my interest is piqued. I have never heard of such a thing. Home visits? Checking on the kids after they left the orphanage? This is really showing the true nature of Y/N and the people she put in charge. “We will make a surprise visit in two weeks, Y/N. Don’t worry, the Andersons are a wonderful couple. They were never able to have children of their own, so they sought us out. Andrea is in a good home.” A knowing look flashes across Sandra’s face as she watches the children playing in the garden. Harry has quickly taken to the new kids, running around with them. I clear my throat before asking “Sandra is the girl that Sven saved, isn’t she?” “Yes, I am Captain Levi. You are a very perceptive man.” She smiles. “I see why she likes you.” Sputtering, Y/N chokes on her tea, turning red from embarrassment and the lack of air. I calmly lean over and whack her on the back a few times, my face neutral but my heart racing.

After saying goodbye to Harry, we make our way off the grounds, walking silently on the streets. Glancing over at Y/N, she seems reluctant to start a conversation with me, shy from the previous conversations revelations. “I need to find a new tea shop, Y/N. Would you like to accompany me?” I ask as I cut my eyes over to her, watching. Smiling brightly, she hooks her arm around mine. “Lead the way, sir!”

“Try not to ruin this one Y/N.”

“No promises....”

The End.

Mobile MasterList

[bloodzonee]

(This is my very first time writing anything on here and tbh i’m pretty nervous about it. But i’m hoping you guys enjoy what i’ve written. Please let me know any pointers you have for chapter two or anyway I can improve. 💕)

Chapter 1 – Blue Eyes.

As the sun dipped under the horizon my father and I went on a hunting trip, he was a rough man and he wanted me to be the same. Hunting was one of his biggest hobbies because he was good at it, it was always “Kill or be killed,” he used this as a method to keep me on my toes. About an hour in, the barrel of my Remington .270 pointed toward a young buck seconds away from pulling the trigger I noticed a pair of dark yellow eyes behind the deer, I trailed away using the scope I noticed a dozen pairs of yellow eyes. Instantly my father ripped the gun from my grasp cursing under his breath. I’ve never seen fear in my father’s eyes nor had I seen fear like this. It wasn’t until they began stalking forward that I fully understood what they were; Wolves. “Stand down!” my father called out in a demanding tone as if they were your typical house puppy. My heart pounded against my chest as they pawed roughly at the gravel, their breath making clouds in the dirt. “Dad…” I whispered my hand reaching out for the sleeve of his shirt but he wouldn’t budge. It was as if he was the owner of these wild animals, or was trying to be. Kneeling to my level my father gripped my shoulders roughly causing me to wince slightly. “Listen to me!” he demanded, his hands shaking. “I need you to run and keep running until you get home, do not look back. I’ll be behind you…” I knew that was a lie just by the shake in his voice. “Do not wait for me, Nadia..” Nothing made sense to me, tears streamed down my cheeks. “No matter what you hear do not look back or some back for me. Do you hear me?” he was now demanding me to listen. I nodded as reality set in, this was his goodbye. I rushed into my father’s arms hugging him tightly, he hugged me back before tearing me off him nudging me to get a move on. “I love you, never forget that.” He spoke roughly as he turned back toward the furry beasts.

I turned on my heels and took off running, my breath was cold and I shortly got lost. I didn’t know this area as much as my father did, I had no clue where home was. I didn’t look back, as instructed, I continued to run that was until my leg caught a branch like in every scary movie ever. In that moment I broke down, heaving as I heard howling in the background, the hunter in me knew that meant they were looking for their pray. Knowing I needed to get up I caught my breath for another second but it was a second too long, I felt a warm moist rush against my skin, causing the hair on the back of my neck to stand up and for a moment I was paralyzed. As I turned my head I was greeted with that familiar pair of yellow eyes. I thought for sure I was done for, I bowed my head and closed my eyes tight waiting for the impact. Instead, I heard soft whimper coming from the wolf as its snout trailed along my lap and down where I noticed I was bleeding. It’s eyes met mine once more and to my surprise they were not longer yellow they turned into beautiful oceanic hues, almost human-like. This wolf was smaller than the others, a juvenile. It began to nudge my arm as if telling me to get up and get going, I stood up slowly being very cautious with my surroundings not knowing if It was a trap. With a soft growl, it nudged me forward once again and I took off running, following the direction it nudged me toward. This time, I looked back. The young wolf was till watching me, the blue in its eyes slowly faded back into that dark eerie yellow, lifting its snout in the air and howling loudly as he darted off into the opposite direction. I made it home almost ten minutes later where I called the police telling them everything that happened and demanding they search the woods. They told me a squad would be out there in minutes. As I was hanging up the phone I peered outside my window instantly catching the gaze of those beautiful blue eyes, it lowered its muzzle and it almost looked releaved. I ran over to my closet to find my flashlight but once I made it back to the window, he was gone.

The next morning my mother and I were awoken with a knock at the door, it was the cops delivering the bad news. Officer Johnson told us they had no luck finding my father’s body but they did find mass amounts of blood. But he assured us that they would still be looking and that my father’s picture was sent out to every station in the area. We held a small funeral for my father for my family wasn’t well known or liked for that matter. My mother was the crazy city alcoholic and my father was the creepy quiet man that no one even desired talking to. Only about six people showed up there was my mother and I, my father’s looney friend Daryl, the priest and two men I’ve never seen before. One was an older gentleman and one looked to be around my age. My father kept to himself and the only friend I ever knew of him having was Daryl, but it wasn’t out of the ordinary for my father to go missing for days on end, although this peeked my curiosity. I needed to find out who these strangers were. As the priest spoke of my father, reciting the usual funeral spiel. But I couldn’t help but to feel as though I was being watched, once I looked up I confirmed my suspicion the young boy was in fact staring at me but shortly found that he was caught as his eyes darted toward the lowering empty coffin. “Do we know them?” I whispered to my mother as the priest was wrapping up. “Shut up Nadia, not now.” Alcohol seeped off her breath as her words slurred from her lips. Although this was the response I expected to get I still needed to know, I thought I knew everything about my father. When I got the chance, I weaved over toward the two to thank them for coming and showing their respect. As I reached out to tap on the young boys shoulder I found myself speechless; his eyes. Those were the same eyes that saved my life in those woods. “Beau come now.” His father demanded in the background and he scurried off quickly.

“You can’t honestly think that the wolf and tat boy are the same…species…human…thing…” Andrea spoke confused as she reached for her sparkly PINK backpack. “You sound crazy,” she exclaimed as she tossed the pack back behind her, hitting me in the back, she looked back with a sly grin “…was he cute?” I rolled my eyes knowing that question was bound to pop out of her mouth. “I mean yeah, but that isn’t the point Andrea. His eyes…they looked identical.” I never told the cops about the wolf that potentially saved my life knowing in fact they would just think I was crazy as they did my father. “Maybe it’s Jacob from Twilight!” Andrea joked, tossing a few of her new outfits on the bed next to me. Ever since we were little I was always at Andreas house; her family was the family I always wish I had. They were normal – the perfect family. So, being over so late wasn’t unusual, it was kind of expected especially since we were two days away from starting our second year of high school. Andrea being the tall beautiful blonde that everyone either wanted to be or wanted to be with, she had to try on and model all her new clothing. I didn’t mind, I normally just sat there. I on the other hand was the more muscular nerdy girl in school who just so happens to be best friends with the pretty popular girl just like every other crappy teen movie. I was always teased growing up, I have blonde hair like Andrea but mine has more of a silver tint to it which earned me the nickname ‘Grandma’ original, I know. I didn’t care all that much though, appearance wasn’t as important to me as it was to Andrea. After about another hour of watching her flaunt around in her new clothing the two of us went to bed. The following day we woke up bright and early for yet another shopping day, Andrea even talked me into buy a ‘girly’ outfit.

Monday morning my alarm buzzed under my pillow around 6 AM causing me to jump out of my nightmare, ever since my father’s passing I couldn’t stop reliving his last moments. Shaking the memories from my brain I forced myself out of bed and began getting ready. Throwing my hair up in its normal messy bun, I pulled on a pair of jeans and an old torn Nirvana Rock T-shirt which was my fathers. I looked into the mirror one last time before a small sigh escaping my ruby red lips, I started toward my bus stop.

“Really?” I heard a familiar voice trail out from behind me, Andrea was obviously unhappy about my outfit choice. She has always wanted me to be more preppy and PINK like herself, I was just raised a little tougher and well poorer than her. Grabbing the paper from my hand she examined my new schedule. “We have Chemistry and Debate together,” nudging my arm she smiled slyly at me “Try not to be the biggest nerd in the glass this year,” I rose a brow “Sounds a lot like you won’t be copying my homework this year…” I jabbed back at her as she squinted back at me and quickly took back what she had said.

As the day dragged on nothing exciting happened, no fights, no over the summer pregnancies…nothing. Although, it was now time for our hour break we got halfway through the day. Unlike half of my class who liked to go off campus and get high in their cars, I took the time to get caught up on homework. Sitting under the large willow tree out from of the school, listening to the same old rock music my father listened to. The hour was almost up when a shadow emerged making it hard to see the work in front of me. Tossing a headphone out of my ear I looked up angrily “Excuse m…” it was him. “Grandma huh?” he mocked. A smile tugged at the corner of my mouth as I struggled to hide my excitement. “That’s what they call me and you?” “Well, I go by Beau. I haven’t been lucky enough to get a nickname yet.” He stuck his thumbs through the straps of his back pack rocking back onto his heels. “New here?” I questioned. “Yup. My dad and I moved here temporarily. After my senior year is over it’s back to New Orleans.” He shook his shaggy brown hair from his eyes. “My father is from New Orleans,” I smiled up at him, now pushing myself off the grounds, wiping the grass from my jeans. His eyes lowering as I mentioned my father. “You were…at his funeral, right?” I took the chance to ask. Stumbling over his words a bit he finally spoke, “Our fathers were actually buddies awhile back.” At that moment, the bell run causing us both to jump. “I don’t think a year is long enough to develop a nickname.” I joked trying to ease the tension about my last question. His grin made my smile larger until I noticed I was blushing. Clearing my throat, I held up my book “Well it’s off to Chemistry.” I gathered my belongings, “Mrs. Green?” He replied and I nodded. “Looks like we’re headed to the same place, mind if I walk with you?” he smiled down at me as he was an entire foot taller than me and I nodded.

As we walked into the classroom my eyes caught sight of Andrea being flocked by the annoyance that is ‘the popular crew’. When she noticed me walking in with the new guy she couldn’t help but dart toward up, locking arms with me and pulling me into the desk next to hers. “Who is that and why haven’t I heard about him yet?” she demanded. “We just met chill…well maybe not just met...I think it’s…” we were interrupted as the teacher began the lesson. Minutes later I saw Andrea well-manicured hand slip a note onto my desk that read ‘explain’ I returned the note with ‘blue eyes’ on it which caused Andrea to gasp dramatically as she read it. “A note on the first day?” Mrs. Green chimed in as she walked down the aisle to retrieve the note. “Blue eyes?” She spoke to the whole class, not being able to hide my blushing I buried my head into my arms that were placed on my desk. “It looked like we’ll need seating arrangements. “Beau switch places with Andrea.” My head shot up, my heart fluttering against my ribcage. The rest of the period I kept my head held low not looking up once from my work.

As the bell rang I gathered my stuff and darted out of the class Andrea following shortly behind, once she caught up she was breathing heavy. “Will you slow down,” she grumbled. “Way to go.” I said clearly irritated. “I’m sorry…but do you really think it’s the same kid from your dads funeral?” she said in disbelief. “I know it is, we kind of talked about it.” She squinted at me, “This all happened between first period and now?” I nodded. “Well this year is going to be interesting.” She smirked as we both parted our ways.

That night I couldn’t sleep not only was I totally embarrassed about the note, I couldn’t stop thinking about that wolf. The image of those eyes were held hostage inside my brain. My mom wasn’t home tonight, probably out drinking herself into a coma or with the first rich man that would take her home. Walking downstairs, I made my way into the garage where my father’s old ’67 Chevrolet Impala sat. I always begged him to give it to me for my sixteenth birthday. Sliding into the front seat I took in that all too familiar scent of leather and my father cigars. I didn’t know how much I would miss this scent when it was gone. As I felt my eyes welting up with tears I remember what my father told me. Leaning over I searched through the glovebox, finding a letter with my name on it. “Why do I have to wait until my eighteenth birthday?” I whispered to myself and shrugged. Taking in a few more deep inhales I got out of the car noticing the small garbage that was full, picking up I brought it outside throwing it in the dumpster. As I turned around I looked toward the trees and there he was, sitting there. The same blue eyes I had been obsessing over were right there in front of me, in the distance. I waved in its direction and I felt crazy until he lowered his muzzle as if he was also saying hello. I sat on my porch swing and he laid in the grass. For some reason, I felt safe with him near, I knew he would protect me. After a few minutes, I began to doze off.

I woke up a few hours later no longer on my porch but back in my bedroom, tucked in and all. I searched the house to see if my mother was home although she would just leave me outside. I returned to the front door peeking outside, I noticed paw prints leading up to the porch swing. Rubbing my eyes I also noticed a pair of means bare footprints leading from the porch to the door. “Beau.” I whispered as I closed and locked the door behind me.

[llamasarecoolerthanyou]

Summer love part 2 – Stephan Leyhe & Andreas Wellinger

Thank you so much for all the likes, reblogs and kind words! It means the world to me. ❤️

Here is the second part. It was supposed to be short and sweet but I don’t think that’s possible with me. 😂 It turns out, I can’t let them be happy without some suffering but I hope you’ll still enjoy it.

Summer love part 2 – Stephan Leyhe & Andreas Wellinger

For the first time in months, Andreas actually felt happy. Even though it was already March and the season was slowly coming to an end, he was finally going to make his debut in a World Cup competition.

As it often happened, his thoughts went back to the time that was at once the happiest and most painful in his life. When Stephan had kissed him that day, for just a moment Andreas felt like he had everything he could ever want; only to have it taken away a second later.

  After he came home, all he wanted to do was to wallow in misery and stare at his phone hoping for a call from the man he was in love with. Fortunately, there was Karl who came banging on his door after a week of no contact. He would be forever grateful to his friend who had spent hours talking sense into him despite his often rude remarks.

He still thought about the brunette constantly, but thanks to Karl’s stubbornness he was soon back in the gym. Andreas put all the energy he had left into training. After not showing up at all for days, he was now staying after hours and was usually the last one to leave. But in spite of his determination and perseverance, the results just weren’t there.

During the first Continental Cup competition, he didn’t advance to the second round. As the time went on, he started to rank a little higher but still never even made it into the top fifteen. But whereas others would probably start considering giving up, somehow the lack of success only made him try harder.  

He didn’t know why but he felt like he needed to prove something, although he had no idea to whom. Maybe he wanted to show Stephan that he was right to believe in him. Some part of him thought even that his success would make the older man want him back. Mostly though Andreas just wanted to finally feel something besides this constant emptiness.    

He knew his best friend was starting to worry about him again but to everyone’s relief, February brought his first podium. The following starts proved to be even more successful, with the Bavarian suddenly winning every competition leading up to the World Championships. As none of them had been selected, Andi and Karl decided to watch the events together.

Leyhe didn’t start in the qualifications to the two individual competitions. Andreas was sure he couldn’t have felt more frustrated even if he had been the one being overlooked. Remembering their conversation from a few months back, he knew the brunette must be feeling pretty insecure and disappointed right now.

He was as surprised as everyone else, when the day before the final men’s competition, Werner Schuster announced that Stephan would be joining the team.

When the time came for the Hessian to jump, Andi was on the edge of his seat, nervously tapping his foot. He could hear Karl snickering at his agitated behavior but at that moment he didn’t care. All he wanted was for Stephan to make a great jump and show everyone that he belonged there.

An hour later he was watching with tears in his eyes as the man he was in love with received his silver medal. Seeing him smile and laugh with his teammates made him feel better than all his recent victories. What’s more, it made him long for a moment when he would be the one standing next to the brunette, celebrating a shared success.  

  From that day on something inside him changed or as his best friend said, “the old Andi came back”. He was more mature than a year ago but at the same time kept his easy-going attitude and infectious smile. This change couldn’t have come at a better time, as a few days later he got a call from his coach.

One of the jumpers from the A-team had sustained a minor injury during the Championships and not wanting to risk his health, decided to withdraw from the remaining two weeks of competitions. As he was currently the best among the B-team, they selected him to join the team.

Which meant that he was now on his way to Oslo, where he would join the German squad for the Raw Air tournament. Having finally achieved something he had been dreaming about for years, he was feeling excited and nervous.

The fact that he would be seeing Stephan for the first time in months didn’t help either. A few weeks ago he would have probably dreaded meeting him again but now he was somehow hopeful. He reminded himself that there was a chance that Leyhe wouldn’t want anything to do with him after all this time, but that didn’t seem like something the man he remembered would do.

Soon he arrived at the hotel and was now waiting at the reception as instructed. He couldn’t stop himself from looking around, even if it wasn’t very likely that he would spot Stephan anywhere.

“He’s not here.” He heard someone say and turned around to see Markus watching him with a smirk.

“What? I wasn’t…” he started to say, trying to pretend he didn’t know who the older man was talking about.

“Sure,” Eisenbichler rolled his eyes and continued ironically, “and I’m the one Leyhe is swooning over.”

“I…” Andi blushed, not sure whether he was mocking him.

Noticing that the younger man was becoming nervous, Markus decided to take pity on him and assured him with a friendlier smile. “Calm down kid, I’m just joking around.”

“But Stephan really isn’t here, I’m afraid. Schuster didn’t want him to strain that injured ankle, so you’re here to replace him,” added the brunette apologetically.

Andreas felt disappointment flood his body, he had really hoped he would have the chance to see Stephan again. It was just his luck that after coming here, finally having gotten the shot he was waiting for so long, it turns out that the one person he wanted to share his happiness with was not here.

“Don’t look so disappointed. Come on, we’re going to be roommates for the next two weeks.” Markus patted him on the back and started walking towards the elevator.

  Despite his initial hesitation, it turned out that living with Markus was actually pretty good. He had someone who could show him how things were done among the A-team and most importantly, even though he was new, he didn’t feel isolated from the group. He still wished he was experiencing all of it with Stephan, but it was nice to have someone who was willing to listen to his excited gushing after another day at the hill.

Time flew by and soon they were in Planica, about to enjoy the last weekend of the season. Andreas was satisfied with his results in the Raw Air tournament, having placed in the top fifteen in all of the competitions. In the end, he had come in tenth in the overall ranking, which was more than he could have hoped for.

They were relaxing after a training and the blonde was once again trying to gather up the courage to ask his new friend about Stephan. He knew they talked often but never when he was in the room, and the few times he walked in on their phone calls Eisenbichler quickly hung up.

He was too busy internally freaking out to notice that his roommate was staring at him amused and shaking his head.

“Are you finally going to ask? I would give you more time, only we’re leaving tomorrow and honestly, I’m getting fed up with the both of you.”

“You mean Stephan…” Andi said, looking hopefully at the older man.

“…is a moron like you?” Markus added exasperatedly. “Yes. You’re both acting like lovesick puppies. I can admit it was funny at the beginning but if I have to spend another evening recounting what you ate for breakfast, I’m going to lose it.”      

Andi tried to look like he was offended but after a second decided that he simply didn’t care. After months of wondering, he found out that he wasn’t the only one still thinking about last summer. Stephan had to still care about him if he was asking his best friend about him. Maybe it would take longer than he wished but he felt like everything was going to work out.

Knowing he lost him for a while, Markus just rolled his eyes at the grinning idiot and thought he may as well visit Freitag.

Three months later

Stephan smiled widely as he exited the car and looked around. Two days late but he was finally in Spain, ready for this year’s training camp. His cousin’s wedding the day before made him miss the flight with the rest of the guys, but now the wait was over.

After a long and miserable year, he was going to see Andi again. He had been distraught after finding out that the blonde was going to join the German team in Norway, just as he had been forced to take a break.

When he left the Bavarian after their kiss last summer, he thought he had done the right thing. He told himself that they were too young, Andi was just eighteen for God’s sake, and he couldn’t expect him to commit to a long-distance relationship after two months of knowing each other.

Before that night he had hoped they would stay friends but after he had kissed Andi, he knew it was no longer a possibility. It would hurt them too much to pretend that they didn’t feel more.

However as the time went on, he started to wonder what if. What if they had tried to make it work? If he had told him earlier about his feelings, after all, he had seen that Andreas liked him. If he hadn’t been too afraid to risk everything for once in his life.

He spent months regretting his decision and finding excuses not to phone Andi. He was pretty sure that Markus came close to hitting him several times, during his late night whining.

He almost called the younger man in March, after Markus had assured him repeatedly that Stephan still had a chance with the blonde, but then came the news. Having heard that Andi was joining the A-team this year, he decided to wait a little longer and tell him everything in person.

Shaking off the memories, he grabbed his luggage and headed towards the hotel. He spotted Markus waiting for him near the reception and walked over to him.

“Have you seen him? Do you know where he is now?”

“It’s nice to see you, too. I’m great, thank you for asking,” answered ironically his friend.

“I’m sorry. It’s just that we’ve waited so long and…” Stephan smiled apologetically.

“It’s fine, you know I’m your biggest fan. He’s at the beach, now go and end our suffering,” said Markus taking his suitcase and shooing him away.

Having thanked his teammate, he walked quickly to the beach. Ten minutes later he was there and his heart started beating faster as he saw the man he was in love with. Andi was sitting with his back to him and making circles in the sand.

Feeling anxious, he came closer and asked, “Mind if I sit here?”

Andreas turned quickly, clearly, he hadn’t heard him approach. He looked surprised but after a second, a beautiful smile lit up his face.

“Go ahead.”

Stephan sat down and, hoping he won’t be rejected, took the other man’s hand in his.

“I’m sorry. I was so stupid…” he started to say but Andi just shook his head, leaned down and softly pressed his lips against Stephan’s.

He returned the kiss and the blonde put his arms around him. Stephan felt himself melting into his embrace. Their first kiss had been desperate and frantic, whereas now it stayed tender as their lips moved softly against each other.

They broke away after what seemed like ages but remained close as he gently caressed Andi’s cheek.

Finally, Andreas broke the silence, “I know we have to talk about everything that had happened. But I have been in love with you for months and I’m not going to wait any longer. All I need to know is if you love me because if you do, then there is no doubt in my mind that we can make it work.”

His voice was calm but he could see the anxiety in Andi’s eyes as he spoke. Still, all he felt in that moment was happiness and pride. He was proud of his Andi who had the courage to confess his feelings, even though he must have been terrified. He no longer resembled the stammering boy, who blushed every time Stephan looked at him.

“Of course I love you. I’ve loved you since last summer but I was too much of a coward to say…” he began but the blonde interrupted him again.

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” he whispered and pulled him closer to kiss him again.

And at that moment, it didn’t. Later they would talk about their mistakes and things they could have done better but right now, he was with the man he had missed and dreamed about for almost a year and nothing else mattered.

***

I guess it turned out to be much more of Andi’s story but I promise there will be more Stephan in my next one shot. 😊   

I’m hoping to publish at least one fic a week, I know it’s not a lot but it takes me a few days to write and polish a story and I don’t have that much time. 😔

[loadcom326]

Motion Controllerseffective Curriculum Ideas

MOTION UNIT SUMMARY. Cluster: Describing Motion (Lessons - ) Overview. Children heighten their awareness of motion in their surroundings by going on a Motion Search. They practice describing an object’s motion with words and drawings and learn to incorporate aspects of distance, time, speed, change of speed, and path into their descriptions. The way curriculum is defined or viewed will directly affect the instruc-tional decisions necessary to implement curriculum in multi-tiered RTI models. Three Types of Curriculum Researchers and curriculum specialists have explored the fact that different types of curriculum operate simultaneously in the classroom (Eisner, 2002.

Motion Controllerseffective Curriculum Ideas Activities

Motion Controllerseffective Curriculum Ideas 4th Grade

Motion graphics are awesome and highly versatile storytelling tools, which makes them a great addition to your brand’s content marketing mix if you’re looking to tell an interesting story in a succinct format, engage people on social media, or explain your product.

Why Motion Graphics Are Great For Brands

Online video has been on the rise now that mobile is pervasive and social platforms are more video-friendly. And while there are many types of content that can engage people, motion graphic videos are particularly suited to help brands tell their stories.

They’re emotionally captivating. With VO, music, beautiful animations, and powerful narratives, they can make you laugh, cry, and learn.

They make content easier to comprehend. Motion graphics are a fantastic tool to explain processes, products, or dense subjects—in a short amount of time. (Here are some great examples of explainer videos if you want to see them at work.)

They don’t require much from the viewer. People can sit back and watch, without having to spend much energy.

They’re easy to repurpose. You can cut one motion graphic into several 30-second promotional vids, update VO, or turn your existing motion graphics into static infographics.

For brands looking to make a connection with their viewers, motion is a no-brainer. But not all motion graphics are created equal. Truly great motion graphic examples make the most of every tool to tell a captivating story that engages people on all levels.

The Best Motion Graphic Examples

If you’re just starting to explore motion graphics or looking for a little inspiration, you’ve come to the right place. Here, we’ve rounded up 100 great motion graphic examples to show you how diverse, creative, and entertaining the medium can be.

This collection (listed, not ranked) shows a variety of styles, stories, and subjects, both branded and editorial, from all sorts of industries. Whether you work in tech or nonprofit, there’s a little something for everyone, plus a few tips to help you get started making your own.

100 Great Motion Graphic Examples (1-25)

We hope you find this roundup helpful—and we hope you’ll let us know if you’ve seen any motion graphic examples we should add. Enjoy!

1) Anatomy of a Computer Virus by Patrick Clair

This animation was created for Australian TV program HungryBeast and provides a breakdown of the world’s first weapon constructed entirely out of code: Stuxnet.

2) Luibelle by Toondra Animation Studios

Motion Controllerseffective Curriculum Ideas Activities

Great motion graphic examples of branded content make us very happy. Luibelle used motion in this great explainer video.

3) Bananas by Xander Marritt and Elias Freiberger

Some of these motion graphic examples get a little weird, which we like. In this, bananas are used to symbolize life and the subconscious and conscious in this strange and quirky motion graphic.

4) 29 Ways to Stay Creative by TO-FU

The inspiring minds at TO-FU give tips to stay creatively productive with this animation, which is sure to help anyone in need of a little advice.

5) Journey Alpha by Weltenwandler Design

This beautiful motion graphic has the look of a video game, creating a feeling of submersion, but it is completely non-interactive.

6) Haïkus in Motion by Sébastien Girard

This animation series brings poetry to life with expressive imagery.

7) The ABC’s of Architecture by Andrea Stinga and Federico Gonzalez

This delightful animated rendition shows buildings associated with the world’s best architects.

8) Skype for Business by Column Five

This lesson contains the following Essential Knowledge (EK) concepts for the. AP Calculus course. EK 1.1A1 EK 1.1A3 Click here for an overview of all the EK's in this course. 1.1 limits graphically calculus answers. If ny love for you were an equation it'd be Because it has no limit. 1.1 Limits Graphically Calculus For 1-5, give the value of each statement. Name: If the value does not exist, write ' Practice does not exist' or 'undefined.' F(l) = f(-l) = limf(x) = lim f(x) = i.

Learn about the value of Skype and how this tool can increase efficiency for your business in a cost-effective way.

9) Game of Thrones: An Animated Journey by BlackMeal

Relive the highlights of HBO’s Game of Thrones with this beautiful animated rendition of the popular show.

10) Bitcoin Explained by Duncan Elms

Curious about Bitcoin? This motion graphic breaks down the important information about the electronic currency in three minutes.

11) I <3 Camping by Monologue and George Zestanakis

Animations are a perfect way to introduce consumers to products and services, such as mobile apps like the one featured in this eye-catching video.

12) Cinematics by Pier Paolo

Unit 1: early chinamacs history. Teaching Unit 9.1 World politics and the global economy after World War II Teaching Unit 9.2 The two big powers and their Cold War 1945-1990 CE Teaching Unit 9.3 A multitude of sovereign states 1945-1975 Teaching Unit 9.4 The scope of wealth and poverty 1945-present Teaching Unit 9.5 The world at warp speed: science, technology, and the. WorldHistoryUnit1EarlyHumanSocietiesChapters12.pdf - Google Drive. About Press Copyright Contact us Creators Advertise Developers Terms Privacy Policy & Safety How YouTube works Test new features Press Copyright Contact us Creators.

This adorable animation illustrates the timeline of classic films and characters, bringing historic cinematic characters to life in a whole new way.

13) How to Bloody Mary by Matteo Inchingolo

Great motion graphic examples use the medium to teach something quickly. This one shows viewers how to make a classic brunch beverage.

Motion Controllerseffective Curriculum Ideas 4th Grade

14) How to Feed the World by Denis Van Waerebeke

Captivating animations are a perfect way to educate young adults and children about important issues, such as world hunger.

15) Coffee in 200 Frames by Dum!Dum!

No matter the length, animations can still bring to life everyday tasks in a stimulating manner, such as this short, which illustrates the steps for brewing a cup of coffee.

16) Be Sexy, Be Smart by PlusOne

This motion graphic, made for Soa Aids Nederland, delivers a powerful message in an accessible manner through colorful and engaging imagery.

17) A Dash of That by J-Scott

Animations are a perfect way to promote blogs and other social media outlets. This cute and colorfully designed animation promoting the Tumblr account A Dash of That is an excellent example of that use.

18) The Pursuit for Educational Equity by Column Five

This perfectly addresses the gap in educational equality and provides useful information on how to close the access gap, making it one of those motion graphic examples that blends great design with educational content.

19) Subprime by Beeple

Many of these motion graphic examples help people understand difficult concepts, much like this video, which illustrates the housing market crash in the U.S.

20) Chemistry and Energy Efficient Buildings by Diemo Barz

This animation, created to illustrate the results made by BASF, is a comprehensive and accessible way of conveying the information to its audience (conference attendees).

21) Inspiration by Rafa Galeano Font for mac free.

A colorful animation is a great way to tell a story or illustrate a conceptual thought.

22) The World is Obsessed with Facebook by Alex Trimple

Great motion graphic examples bring information to life in a more exciting, as this piece does.

23) Social Media and You by Binalogue

This was made for The British Council to help them launch their brand new social media strategy pack.

24) Stanley Kubrick by Hyejin June Hong

Motion graphics are a great way to illustrate the history of a product or person, like this animation about filmographer Stanley Kubrick.

STANLEY KUBRICK A FILMOGRAPHY from Deadly Puppies on Vimeo.

25) A History of the Title Sequence by From Form

This animation provides beautiful imagery illustrating the history of another art form: title sequencing.

Pages: 1 234

[chocolatequeennk]

To Bring Them Home, epilogue

Losing Rose only a month after they bonded hurt more than the Doctor could have imagined. Then he discovered he’d lost more than he’d realised, and he was determined to bring them home–Rose and their unborn baby. But how could he do that, without two universes collapsing?

Ten x Rose, pregnancy fic. 

And it’s the epilogue no one (including me) knew was coming. This was based on this post, which was just too cute and needed to be written as a fic. Featuring Andi Tyler and Donna Noble.

This story is part of The Course of True Love, following With This Ring.

This was written for the Doomsday prompts on @doctorroseprompts​.

Betaed by @lastbluetardis​.

AO3 | FF.NET | TSP | Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5 | Ch 6 

Donna was engrossed in a book on the pyramids when the sound of a child running through the park caught her attention. She looked up just as a little girl skidded around a corner, her arms flailing and blonde pigtails swinging.

The girl tilted her head and looked at her for a long moment before a wide smile stretched across her face. She skipped over to the park bench and jumped up beside Donna.

“Hi! I’m Andi. Mummy told me to find someplace to sit so she could find me.”

Donna raised an eyebrow. “And why does Mummy need to find you?”

Brown eyes danced with a mischievous spirit. “I wandered off,” Andi replied matter-of-factly.

Donna closed her book. “Did you now?”

Andi nodded, sending her pigtails bobbing again. “Yep!” she said, popping the p. “Daddy says I get it from Mummy.”

Right… the missing mummy and daddy. Donna glanced down the path, expecting to see a couple jogging after their errant child in short order. When no one came along, she looked back at the girl, who sat swinging her legs without a care in the world.

“Well, Andi,” she said, “my name is Donna. Would you like help finding your mummy and daddy?”

“Nuh-uh.” Andi crossed her arms over her chest. “Mummy said she’d be here soon. I just gotta stay in one place.”

Donna nodded; she remembered her own parents giving her that instruction, if she ever got lost. “Do you know what your mummy and daddy are called?” she said, switching tactics.

Another toothy grin stretched across the girl’s face. “My Daddy is the Doctor,” she said proudly. “An’ Mummy is Love.”

Donna swallowed the sarcastic comment on the tip of her tongue—it wasn’t Andi’s fault that she’d never equate her own mum with love. “It’s good that Mummy loves you, but do you know her name?” she said instead. “You’re Andi, I’m Donna—what’s Mummy called? What does Daddy call her?” she added.

A deep furrow appeared in her forehead, and Andi shook her head slowly. “Love is what Daddy calls her.”

“Well, isn’t that precious,” Donna mumbled under her breath. It was, but it wouldn’t help them find Andi’s parents.

Then she mentally rewound everything Andi had said, and her eyes widened. “Hang on, did you say your daddy is the Doctor?”

Andi’s frown disappeared, and she nodded eagerly. “Yeah!”

Donna didn’t really think there could be more than one person running around just calling himself ‘the Doctor,’ but she double-checked, just in case. “Is he really tall and skinny, with a long brown coat?”

Andi clapped her hands together eagerly. “You’ve met Daddy!” she crowed. “I knew you had, when the lines around you were all curly like mine and Mummy’s and Daddy’s!”

Before Donna could ask what the hell that meant, she heard another set of footsteps racing down the path, and a moment later, a blonde woman appeared. Andi jumped off the bench and ran to her, and the woman swept her up into her arms and held her tight with her eyes closed.

“Oh God, baby! Don’t do that to Mummy and Daddy!” she cried.

Another figure appeared on the path, this time one Donna recognised. The Doctor wrapped his arms around his wife and daughter and held them close.

After a long hug, Andi squirmed to be put down, and the Doctor crouched down in front of her. He could still feel his hearts racing, and the lingering fear made his voice sharp. “You know you aren’t supposed to wander off, Andrea Suzette. What were you thinking?”

Andi pouted and scuffed her toe against the dirt. “I saw a dog, and I wanted to see if it would talk to me like K-9.”

The Doctor sighed and shook his head—of course she did. K-9 adored Andi, calling her “Young Mistress” and following  her around like… well, like a puppy. The two of them were inseparable.

He pressed a kiss to his daughter’s forehead. “Next time, wait until Mummy and I are done explaining to the policeman why it’s okay for us to leave the TARDIS in the middle of the park, okay? We can all go exploring together.”

Andi groaned and reached for Rose’s hand, like she always did when he scolded her. “But Daddy!” she whined. “If I hadn’t wandered off, I wouldn’t have found Donna! Look, her lines are squiggly. Does that mean she comes with us?”

The Doctor followed where Andi’s chubby finger was pointing and he blinked when he saw a very familiar ginger woman sitting on the park bench. He stood up as Donna Noble walked over to them, a smirk on her face.

“Well, Spaceman, I see you found them. And I see you forgot that you were supposed to bring Rose here to visit me.”

Oh. Right. The Doctor tugged on his ear, and Rose looked back and forth between the two of them. “Ah, yes. Sorry about that. We were a little busy with… well, life.” He gestured from Rose to Donna. “Rose, this is Donna Noble. I met her just after…”

A lump formed in his throat, just like it always did. Even after almost four years, he still couldn’t talk about Canary Wharf and Bad Wolf Bay without feeling the heartbreaking loss all over again.

Rose’s eyes widened, and she stepped towards Donna, her hand held out in welcome, and Donna took it readily. “Thank you for helping him that day.”

Now that she was right in front of them, the Doctor could see why Andi was so excited about Donna. Her timeline split and doubled back on itself as only a time traveller’s would.

He bounced lightly on his toes, and both women looked back at him. “Do you see it, love?” he asked. “The timelines?”

Rose frowned, then looked at Donna again.

Donna shifted, and the skin around her mouth tightened. “What are you talking about, Martian?”

The Doctor sensed the moment Rose saw it. “What he means, Donna… is have you ever thought about doing a little travelling?”

Andi darted forward and stared up at Donna with her hands clasped behind her back. The Doctor bit back a smile as he pictured the pleading expression his daughter was probably giving Donna—he had yet to meet someone who could say no to her when she looked at them like that.

“Please, Donna?” she begged, swaying back and forth. “You hafta come with us. We can go anywhere in time and space!”

Donna looked from Andi up to the Doctor, and he nodded in response to the uncertainty on her face. “We’d love to have you join us, Donna.”

After a brief pause, Donna nodded and Andi cheered and took her hand. “All right then,” she said. “Time and space it is.” Her lips curved up in a smirk. “Maybe if someone else travels with you and calls Rose by her actual name, your daughter won’t think her name is Love.”

The Doctor rolled his eyes as he reached for Rose’s hand. He refused to be embarrassed by how much he loved his wife.

“I have a feeling that won’t be the only thing Andi learns from you,” he said drily.

Rose and Donna both burst out laughing, and after staring at the women with a confused little furrow between her eyebrows for a moment, Andi’s giggles joined in. The Doctor reached for her and swung her up onto his shoulder, and then he led the way back to the TARDIS and on to their next adventure.

[90jeduardo-blog]

https://www.zooborns.com/zooborns/2019/09/germanys-first-giant-panda-cubs-born-at-zoo-berlin.html Germany's First Giant Panda Cubs Born at Zoo Berlin ZooBorns / by Andrew Bleiman / 53d Behind the scenes in the Panda Garden at Zoo Berlin, first-time Giant Panda mom Meng Meng snuggles her tiny newborns into the warm, soft fur of her face. On August 31, Berlin’s Panda population doubled as Germany welcomed its first-ever Panda offspring – two of them! The past month at Zoo Berlin has been particularly tense and exciting, with plenty of waiting and crossed fingers. Finally, on August 31 at 6:54 p.m., the moment everyone had been waiting for arrived: following a gestation period of 147 days, female Panda Meng Meng, 6, gave birth to her very first cub. The joyous event came just one week after experts from Zoo Berlin and the Leibniz Institute for Zoo and Wildlife Research (IZW) were able to perform an ultrasound scan that determined Meng Meng was indeed pregnant. Immediately after giving birth, the new mother knew just what to do: she placed the tiny creature gently on her belly and began to warm it lovingly with her big paws, warm breath, and the soft fur of her cheeks. But mother and child weren’t alone for long, as at 7:42 p.m. – just under an hour later – a second cub was born! “Meng Meng and her two cubs coped well with the birth and are all in good health,” reports Zoo Director Dr. Andreas Knieriem. “Even though these are the first offspring born to our young female Panda, she is already doing a wonderful job as a mum. In the beginning, the young have to feed roughly every two to three hours and are dependent on the body heat of their mother to keep warm.” Like all baby Giant Pandas, Germany’s first Panda cubs were born pink with fine white down and a disproportionately large tail. . . . . . . . #memes #meme #momos #cats #momos #fun #funny #dogs #dog #cheezburguer #lol #LMAO #cat #LMFAO #whathappened #puppy #whathappenedhere #happy #pet #smile #catsofinstragram #dogsofinstragram #puppies #Kitty #kitties #animals #animal #pets #animalsofinstragraman #petsofinstragram #animallivesmatters https://www.instagram.com/p/B42wZsNA6Ts/?igshid=kgl2yt66ms4c

[torentialtribute]

How Fabio Quagliarella – Italy’s oldest-ever scorer -is on the best form of his career at 36 

The exciting Italy team of Roberto Mancini is built around the youth. Gianluigi Donnarumma, Nicolo Barella, Nicolò Zaniolo and Moise Kean symbolize a bright future. Cagliari & # 39; s cruel midfielder Barella is the & # 39; old man & # 39; from that team, 22 years old.

But there was another name that caught the eye in Liechtenstein's 6-0 extortion in Parma on Monday night.

In the midst of the hungry young puppies, the familiar face scored twice from the spot and the cheers over the peninsula won. Anyone with a weakness for Italian football was delighted when golden elder Fabio Quagliarella plundered his first goals in the famous blue shirt since November 2010.

<img id = "i-b66ba71a68ee726a" src = "https://ift.tt/2UU2vFu" height = "459" width = "634" alt = "

<img id = "i-b66ba71a68ee726a" src = "https://ift.tt/2UU2vFu" height = "459" width = "634" alt = "<img id =" i-b66ba71a68ee726a "src =" https://ift.tt/2CEczva -a-18_1553688610212.jpg "height =" 459 "width =" 634 "alt =" <img id = "i-b66ba71a68ee726a" src = "https://ift.tt/2W6yUZB 27/12 / 11517784-6855703-image-a-18_1553688610212.jpg "height =" 459 "width =" 634 "alt ="

<img id = "i-b66ba71a68ee726a" src = "https: // i. dailymail.co.uk/1s/2019/03/27/12/11517784-6855703-image-a-18_1553688610212.jpg "height =" 459 "w idth = "634" alt = "Fabio Quagliarella rolls back at the age of 36 and is in the best shape of his career" age of 36 and is in the best shape of his career

<img id = "i-843ad18a613bf30" src = "https://ift.tt/2CAA3kP" height = "548" width = "306" alt = "This is not a subscription,

Sampdoria, Quagliarella deserves its renaissanc e now on the international stage

The Sampdoria attacker is 36 years and 55 days old, but says: & # 39; I don't feel my age & # 39 ;. His enthusiasm and professionalism made it impossible for Mancini to ignore him.

On Monday, the veteran made his first start in a competitive international since October 2009 and paid back his boss.

I have always said that I do not look at their age. If they are in good shape and serious, they will be considered, & said Mancini.

Quaglia, from Castellammare di Stabia near Naples, was the substitute in Friday's qualifying match in Udine against Finland, and hit the beam with a powerful ride from a sharp angle not long afterwards to replace Ciro Immobile

]

<img id = "i-4b5a7adb0b990ec0" src = "https://ift.tt/2UXWGqp 6855703-image-a-28_1553688755448.jpg "height =" 437 "width =" 634 "alt =" <img id = "i-4b5a7adb0b990ec0" src = "https://ift.tt/2W3ngi6 /03/27/12/11518074-6855703-image-a-28_1553688755448.jpg "height =" 437 "width =" 634 "alt =" His outing against Liechtenstein represented his first international cap since November 2009

His outing against Liechtenstein represented his first international cap since November 2009 <img id = "i-472e3c370d80088 "src =" htt ps: //i.dailymail.co.uk/1s/2019/03/27/12/11517778-6855703-image-a-29_1553688767994.jpg "height =" 427 "width =" 634 "alt =" <img id = "i-472e3c370d80088" src = "https://ift.tt/2CEPBUL" height = "427" width = "634" alt = "<img id =" i-472e3c370d80088 "src =" https://ift.tt/2UXWFml. jpg "height =" 427 "width =" 634 "alt =" The 36-year-old has retained a preference for the spectacular, because the finish is still outrageous. The 36-year-old has retained the taste for the spectacular while his finish is still outrageous

The decision to bring the attacker back to the national team makes sense. Quagliarella is Serie A top scorer with 21 goals so far. Yes – he is even ahead of the man she & # 39; CR7 & # 39; to mention.

Immobile struggles with goals in the jersey of Italy, while Torino powerhouse Andrea Belotti still finds its shape after serious injuries. Mario Balotelli is one of Mancini's favorites, but he needs time to get into top condition in Marseille.

Torino

2002 -03 Fiorentina

] Sampdoria

Torino

Club performances and circumstances have given the Samp assassin a second chance, and he takes it .

What makes this Renaissance even sweeter are the traumatic events of a few years ago.

Rewind to a summer nine years ago, and Quaglia had just scored one of the goals of the tournament in the Italian group humiliation against Slovakia during the 2010 World Cup.

His lush twenty-yard chip generated worldwide headlines and he should have become the next big bomber of calcium, the Italians call pointed.

He played for the team he supported, Napoli, and had just lit up the world championship.

Napoli sold Quagliarella to Juventus immediately after South Africa 2010, without a clear motive. Embarrassed and heartbroken fans burned his shirts and called him a traitor. Some supporters claimed that he had grown too big for his boots, or was involved in organized crime.

<img id = "i-eb37ecc25cdbb705" src = "https://ift.tt/2CG1ycu image-a-30_1553688779231.jpg "height =" 420 "width =" 634 "alt =" His delightful chip against Slovakia at the 2010 World Cup generated global headlines " a> World Cup generated international headlines"

His delightful chip against Slovakia during the 2010 World Cup,

<img id = "i-42e01e19215e2491" src = "https://ift.tt/2NyDsEw 1s / 2019/03/27/12 / 11517772-6855703-image-a-31_1553688808479.jpg "height =" 385 "width =" 634 "alt =" He was the star for Napoli, the team supported, but was sold quickly in the midst of a stalker issue "

He was the star for Napoli, the team supported, but it would soon be sold out. Stalker problem sold out

Quagliarella won three league titles at Juve, but was no ordinary person. He crossed the city to Torino in 2014 and he was not a productive scorer, but when he found it, it was usually a miracle goal. From the Maroons of Turin, he rejoined Samp for a second spell, where he now heads.

But despite the amazing goals, there was an air of mystery about his failure to build on the progress he made in 2010. A deep sense of unfulfilled possibilities, even melancholy. He was from & # 39; next big thing & # 39; stumbling towards aging companion.

Everything was revealed in 2017. The player gave an amazing interview with the current affairs program & # 39; Le Iene & # 39; from Mediaset. Quagliarella explained that he had been the victim of a stalker for almost five years.

It began in Naples in 2010, when he received poison letters accusing him of a pedophile, a mafioso and a drug user gambling at his own games. time, Napoli, also received the mail and was scared enough to sell the player. What aggravated the ordeal was that Quagliarella later discovered that it was a police officer and family friend named Raffaele Piccolo who ran the nasty campaign.

<img id = "i-3ea31ea9cd0aa2a" src = "https: // i.dailymail.co.uk/1s/2019/03/27/12/11517776-6855703-image-a-34_1553689009791.jpg "height =" 365 "width =" 634 "alt =" <img id = "i- 3ea31ea9cd0aa2a "src =" https://ift.tt/2CFClPA "height =" 365 "width =" 634 "alt = "Quagliarella fires regularly and more series A-goals than Cristiano Ronaldo this season" and now has more Series A-goals than Cristiano Ronaldo this season "

Quagliarella now fires regularly and has more Series A- goals than Cristiano Ronaldo this season

Whatever club I played, the abuse continued. I could not even return to his beloved south.

& # 39; Every time I returned to Naples I had to wear hats and wear dark glasses. I had to hide it. Sometimes my friends wanted to go for a drink. But I couldn't, & # 39; the star told Mediaset .

But after a mistake at Piccolo, Quagliarella & # 39; s father Vittorio discovered the truth. In the spring of 2017, the stalker was sentenced to just over four and a half years in prison.

It is no coincidence that since the end of his torture, the evergreen bait has increased and added to quality. Over the past three seasons, his total goal has risen from 12 to 19 to the current trek of 21 and counts.

The reborn bomber enjoys the greatest shape of his life and is loved and respected by fans of all teams.

He even jokes with the Italian comic trio & # 39; Gli Autogol & # 39; about his passing years, eleven costumes as an arrogant pensioner who slowly finds his way home with his shopping and walking stick in a brutal sketch. ]

[36459010]] The 36-year-old joke often about his age and played an old man's role in one YouTube sketch "

The 36-year-old often

Earlier this year he compared Gabriel Batistuta & # 39; s Series A record of hitting the net in 11 consecutive games, and now he has become Italy's oldest ever scorer.

After Monday's handsome win over Lichtenstein, he wrote on his Instagram page: & # 39; I promise that even though I had imagined the perfect evening, it would not have been as good as this. Thanks to my teammates, the boss and his staff. Thank you, because it is rare to be 36 years old. to experience such emotions! "

The hero with two goals, who deserved a standing ovation from the crowd in the Tar dini Stadium of Parma, also admitted that the nominated penalty Leonardo Bonucci and Jorginho encouraged him to take the spot-kicks.

This exciting young team from Italy will need sensible heads as soon as Euro 2020 arrives. Captain Giorgio Chiellini and Bonucci will lead the Ministry of Defense, and Quaglia is the ideal candidate to lead the attackers.

The well-traveled sniper compensates for the lost time and nobody despises this second youth. Unfortunately for the upcoming opponents of Italy, this & # 39; old guy & # 39; near.

<img id = "i-4d87a8f2ebabb85c" src = "https://ift.tt/2UYFAsz image-a-35_1553689021934.jpg "height =" 423 "width =" 634 "alt =" Leonardo Bonucci will lead from the back while Quagliarella could be the main attacker] Leonardo Bonucci will lead from the back while Quagliarella will be the most important man in the attack could be "

Leonardo Bonucci will lead from the back while Quagliarella could be the key to his man in attack

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► Brenda Walsh

Brenda is a smart, driven, fierce and passionate woman, even in her teen years, who is bold in her choices and is not afraid to stand up for herself and what she believes in, whether it's to her friends or family. However, she is a teenager who also cares about fitting in high school and not being an outcast. Even in foreign territory when she arrives in Beverly Hills, she seeks out adventures and new experiences. As she adjusts to life in California, she becomes more settled and spends her time figuring out her interests and what Beverly Hills can offer her.

Brenda is the daughter of Jim and Cindy Walsh, and the fraternal twin sister of Brandon Walsh. She lived in Minnesota until her father got a job promotion, prompting the family to move to Beverly Hills in 1990. The show initially focused on the struggles of the twins, how they both adjusted to their new lives in Beverly Hills with culture shock and their relationships with their new Beverly Hills friends, Dylan McKay, Andrea Zuckerman, Steve Sanders, Kelly Taylor, Donna Martin, and David Silver. She was the show's female protagonist from seasons 1 to 4. Brenda returned in the franchise's fourth spin-off, 90210.

Upon arrival in Beverly Hills, Brenda feels overwhelmed by the social pressures and the high upkeep teens maintain in terms of expensive clothes and the importance they give to their image. When heading to a club with Kelly and her friends, Brenda is the only one who gets in and she meets a guy named Jason. Brenda pretends to be a college student and starts dating Jason, who is a twenty-something lawyer, until she decides to be honest with him to strengthen their relationship and he takes it badly, humiliating her in public. Brenda tells him she like him so much she had thought of sleeping with him and he tries to apologize to her, but Brenda tells him off and says she never wants to see him again.

Brenda tries to make a good impression on Kelly in the beginning, wanting to fit in while also being impressed by Kelly, who is the most popular girl at West Beverly. Brenda finds herself in situations where she doesn't agree with Kelly's behavior and stands up to Kelly, showing respect for herself. All the while, Brenda doesn't realise that Kelly wishes she could be more like Brenda, who has a safe family life. Brenda and Kelly grow closer and find more equal footing with one another, once Brenda meets Kelly's former model mother, who Brenda doesn't know is an addict and alcoholic. Brenda and her family support Kelly and their friendship becomes deeper and stronger.

After a while, Brenda finds herself uninspired by the constant shopping trips Kelly and Donna focus their time on, and decides she wants something valuable to spend her time on, aside from school. Brandon sets her up with Andrea, who volunteers for a rape crisis center and although they clash at first, both having presumptions about who the other is as well as such strong convictions and personalities, the girls get to know each other better through the work. In one of her first sessions, Brenda inadvertently talks to a West Beverly student, who is experiencing continuous date-rape and Brenda figures out how to save the girl and have the attackers arrested. The intense experience creates a strong bond and mutual respect between Andrea and Brenda.

Brenda's discovery that she's late sends her into an understandable panic as she grapples with having to visit a gynaecologist without alerting her parents. She gets her period and finds out that she's not pregnant, but the experience leaves her wanting to take a step back and take a breath. Brenda decides to break up with a devastated Dylan. To get back into her life she signs up for summer drama classes with Donna and is surprised but happy to find Andrea in the class too.

Although her relationship with Dylan is over, he's not far from her orbit as he recuperates with the Walsh family after a surfing accident, much to Brenda's alarm. They share a kiss and she feels confused, but remains firm that they should stay apart. She still supports Dylan and stands by him when everyone thinks he's robbed the Beach Club. Once Dylan leaves to visit his mother in Hawaii, Brenda finds herself thinking of and missing him. Brenda's drama classes excite her, but a crush on her teacher temporarily drive her and Andrea apart when he takes out Andrea. They end up becoming closer after he turns out to be a horrible person. Dylan keeps at wanting Brenda back and they fight when Dylan is feeling neglected by his mother, exacerbating his loneliness and lack of support. Brenda continues to try and be there for Dylan.

At the beginning of the school year, Brenda becomes jealous when Dylan goes on a date with the new transfer student, Emily Valentine, who also has eyes for Brandon. Out of jealousy Brenda lashes out at Emily and calls her a slut in front of everyone. She later regrets her actions and apologizes to Emily, the two making amends. She realises that she misses and loves Dylan and they get back together. Brenda feels a lot of anger towards Dylan's mother, Iris McKay, when she arrives in town and upsets Dylan. Although Brenda initially doesn't like Iris, they find common ground in their love for Dylan and passionate dispositions. Brenda finds her friendship with Kelly tested when her cousin Bobby visits the family and he starts dating Kelly. Brenda becomes overprotective of him, as Bobby's in a wheelchair, but Kelly handles the situation well and their friendship is strengthened.

Brenda defies her parents and continues to secretly see Dylan behind everyone's back with help from Kelly and Donna. When Brenda's caught in the act when Jim and Cindy run into Brenda with Dylan at the beach club, she runs away to Dylan's house. Brenda learns that living with Dylan isn't all it's cracked up to be. When Brandon and Cindy discover that Brenda is unhappy living with Dylan, Jim immediately takes advantage of this to play hardball with him by canceling his trust fund without Brenda knowing about it.

Starting senior year, Brenda volunteers to become a senior buddy to a freshman, who turns out to be the late Scott's younger sister, Sue. Brenda finds it difficult to reach Sue and suspects that something is wrong at home, aside from considering the loss of her brother. Donna helps Brenda uncover the truth and Sue gets help. Brenda is also worried about Kelly, as she seems down, but doesn't know why. Brandon and Brenda fight over college, only to realise that they both want to stay in California. Brenda keeps very active in school activities, arranging the annual "Pig Skin Prom" for West Beverly.

Brenda, still heartbroken over Dylan choosing Kelly, started the fourth season in Minnesota, where she had decided to go to college. However, upon hearing about Kelly and Dylan's break-up and also realizing that she and her old friends no longer shared anything in common, she decided to return home and attend California University. When Brenda returns, she meets a wealthy young-man named Stuart (whom Dylan knew as a drug-dealer in times past), and quickly falls in love with him. The couple would get engaged within weeks of their meeting and elope to Las Vegas, causing Dylan and her friends to come and attempt to stop it. Brenda's non-romantic life also took some hits over the season.

When Donna Martin took in a puppy she and Brenda found, they learned it had escaped from an animal-testing lab and were both distraught when the puppy died. Brenda fell in with a group of animal-rights activists and ended up going along with them when they trashed a number of labs, and she got arrested (Donna decided at the last minute not to join the group). After her arrest, the only person in the group to show support for her was Dylan: David Silver questioned her judgment, Andrea angrily accused her of causing damage to labs that didn't test on animals, and Kelly told her that Dylan wasn't her boyfriend anymore and Brenda couldn't go running to him every time she had a problem. It turned out one of the activists was an undercover FBI agent who offered Brenda a deal for no prison time, because she had not known about nor supported the vandalism. All of Brenda's friends were apologetic for their shoddy treatment of her afterwards.

Brenda would also explore acting during the fourth-season, but this also led to problems: She bungled her first audition and then went over to the director's house to try again. She then got the part, but an unstable student implied she'd slept her way to the role. Unfortunately, this student was also dating Steve Sanders and he believed her claims, with everyone else more or less refusing to believe Brenda's denials. Steve realized his mistake when the student asked him to attack Brenda so she'd have to miss rehearsals. The student later tried to kill herself, but Brenda and Steve teamed up to save her, and Steve finally made amends by attending Brenda's well-received acting debut. The director's praise ended up leading to her accepting a position at the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art (RADA) in London for a year. Following Kelly and Dylan's latest break-up, Brenda eventually learned of a possible romance between Kelly and Brandon, and expressed her blessing.

Another significant event that occurred in the season finale was when Brenda, Jim and Cindy watched Brandon's meeting the President and Brenda watched the pride with which Jim and Cindy watched her brother, later saying that they had never looked at her in that way; this also strengthened her resolve to move to London and pursue acting. She later spent her last night with Dylan, telling him that she wouldn't be gone forever. The couple would briefly reconcile in the final scene of the fourth season, although (because of Doherty's departure), the Brenda character was written out, and Brenda would never again appear on-screen in the franchise's first series.

Brenda returned to Beverly Hills in 90210, the fourth series in the franchise. At the Peach Pit, she reunited with Nat (the restaurant's owner) and her old friend Kelly who had become a guidance counsellor at West Beverly. Additionally, she was reunited with Kelly's younger half sister Erin. She also learned that her old friend Donna, like Kelly, had become a mother. Brenda was soon given the chance to direct the musical, "Spring Awakening" at her old school which she accepted. Shortly afterward, she offered motherly advice to troubled student actress, Adrianna. It was also revealed that Brenda had been in touch with Dylan who, separated from Kelly, had since gone off to travel the world in support of various causes. Brenda suspected that Kelly was not over Dylan. Conversely, Kelly began to suspect that Brenda was also still interested in her old boyfriend.

While Brenda took offense to the suggestion, the women quickly reconciled before going their separate ways again. Soon after in private, Brenda deleted Dylan's number from her cell phone. Later she spends time at a party with West Beverly teacher Ryan Matthews (who Kelly had held a brief romantic interest in). Brenda then leaves the party with him before departing town. Brenda became mysteriously distant from Kelly. When Kelly became confused and upset, Brenda eventually revealed that she'd slept with Ryan, and had become ashamed. Kelly then walked away in silence. Following a physical examination, Brenda learned that she couldn't have children. When Adrianna completed rehab for drug use, she asked Kelly to invite Brenda to a celebration for herself and others.

Distraught, Brenda initially declined, but later changed her mind and attended the event along with Kelly. This eventually led Kelly, Brenda, and Adrianna to discover that Adrianna had become pregnant. During a private discussion with Kelly afterwords, Brenda revealed what she'd learned from her doctor that she couldn't have children. Kelly provided comfort, and the two made amends once again. Brenda later departed for China and adopted a little girl, who she temporarily left in Jim and Cindy's care. She returned shortly after Adrianna had given birth, helping to comfort her as she gave the baby up for adoption telling her that it was the right thing to do and that she also adopted a little girl from China.

Before moving to Beverly Hills, her best friends are Marjorie and Sarah.

When she decides to attend university in Minnesota, Brenda reconnects with Darla Hansen, Katie Destable and Jan Myler, her friends from junior high.

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