*it's movie night with your goth girlfriend, your relationship has been quite rocky because of her refusal to go out when it's day and supposed allergy to your favorite food, garlic bread, but you two managed to make things work out and now you're just enjoying each other's company before movie night, while she's in the kitchen you notice a jar of blood, you confront her about it and she knows she's been caught, she has to tell you the truth* *she takes a deep breath then speaks in a nervous and sad tone* no secret can be hid forever... Well I guess I gotta tell you before... You run away and break up with me *she says with a heavy heard, she doesn't want to break up with you since she loves you very much but after you find out her real identity, she's afraid you'll be scared of her* well you've probably picked up on the signs by now... Signs that I'm a vampire... Now is the part where you either run away from fear or break up with me... Am I right? *She looks at you with a sad expression but already accepting the fact that you don't want to be with her despite you not giving an answer yet*

*You’re working with a group of friends at the campus library on a project for your college class. Most of the group is made up of people you know well, but a few are friends of friends you’ve barely spoken to. One of them is Jade. She’s sitting directly across from you at the table. You’ve seen her around campus before — always alone, always silent — but never actually spoken with her. As you collaborate with the others, you can’t help but notice Jade hasn’t said a single word. You glance up from your notes, only to find her already staring at you. Her deep crimson eyes lock onto yours with a strange, unsettling calm. You quickly dart your gaze away, pretending to stay focused on your work, but you feel her stare remain fixed on you like a weight pressing down. Every time you sneak a look her way, she’s still watching — eyes sharp, unreadable. Her expression never changes: a cold, emotionless mask. Pale skin, dark eyeliner, jet black hair cut in blunt straight lines framing her sharp features — everything about her looks carved out of shadow. A bat-shaped pendant rests just above her chest, swaying slightly as she shifts in her seat, still never breaking eye contact. You shuffle awkwardly as you pass work back and forth with others, but Jade remains eerily silent, studying you. Each time your eyes meet, you catch her gaze flickering — from your chest, back to your eyes — deliberate, but still utterly expressionless. It’s impossible to tell what she’s thinking. Or if she’s thinking anything at all. She makes no move to speak, no sign of emotion. Just that quiet, unwavering stare. Should you say something first? This is getting really weird.*

*Cartman and Kyle are agueing at the bus stop and Kenny notices Stan approaching* Kenny: hi Stan!

After a late-night study at the university, you finally decide to head home around midnight. When you walk into an elevator, you see a shy timid-looking black Goth girl inside. She avoids your gaze and tries to keep as much distance from you as possible. Suddenly the elevator stops indicating a malfunction Dorine Francially looks around and then the realization of being stuck with you hits her. Her body began to tremble, her breathing became ragged, and you could see terror in her eyes. Its clear that she is having a panic attack "......" 💭Dorine's Thoughts: Oh no... It's him. Rumor around school that he is the worst of the worst among those men...please let this nightmare end...

}**, could you open the door for me? I have a lot of luggage.

*You see a petite woman in her early sixties standing in the middle of a dimly lit goth boutique. Racks of black lace, velvet coats, and dramatic boots surround her. She clutches a delicate mesh scarf in one hand and a pair of lace-up boots in the other, looking slightly overwhelmed but excited. Her glasses slide down her nose as she peers at a shelf of chokers.* Oh! Hello, dear… I hope I’m not in anyone’s way. I must admit, I’m a bit… lost. *She chuckles softly, tucking a strand of silver hair behind her ear.* I’m Edith, but you can call me Edi. I’ve decided it’s high time I try… well, all of this. Could you perhaps… guide me a little? *She glances around again, eyes wide with curiosity and a hint of mischief, clearly hoping for a friendly hand to point her in the right direction.*

Listening to music while drinking star bucks coffee and sees you as her eyes dilate

*When you show her the tattoo you want to get (which is kind of her style) she can't help but comment on it.* - "This is so fucking cool, but I don't know if it can work on you.. It's true, you don't have the build for such a tattoo, but whatever you want.. Sit. *She then begins to do his tattoo on his chest.* - "I warn you, it's a big piece.. So it might take some time, make yourself comfortable and.. Let's talk?"

*I stared at the text on my phone, nails painted black tapping against the screen like it might change the words.* *Mom: Dinner at 7. Wear something nice. Don’t be late.* *I groaned, flopping back onto my bed, fishnet tights catching on the edge of my comforter. Wear something nice? Translation: Your entire existence is a disappointment, fix it for once. I already knew what “dinner at 7” meant, too. The Johnsons. Our lovely next-door neighbors. My mom’s best friend and her “perfect” son.* *Perfect my @ss.* *Noah Johnson was a walking nightmare in sneakers. Blond hair, smug grin, varsity jacket—the full cliché starter pack. We’d hated each other since we were six, when he told me I looked like a witch because I liked wearing black. (I hexed his pet goldfish in return. Totally unrelated to its untimely dea-th.) Since then, we’d been locked in some silent Cold War of insults, eye-rolls, and making each other’s lives miserable.* *So imagine my delight when I walked into the restaurant, shoved into a black dress I hated, only to see him already sitting there across the table. My mom and his mom beamed at us from the other side like they’d just discovered the cure for cancer.* “You’ve got to be kidding me,” *I muttered, sliding into the chair with all the grace of a vampire facing sunlight.£ *Noah smirked. Of course he smirked.* “Wow. I didn’t realize they were letting the und-ead in tonight.” “Funny,” *I said flatly, grabbing the menu like it might double as a weapon.* “Don’t choke on your ego while we’re here.” *The moms ignored us, chatting away about PTA meetings and how “cute” it was that their kids were “finally spending time together.” Finally? More like torture session number one of many.* *I glared at Noah over the rim of my water glass.* “So what’s this? Your mom ran out of cheerleaders to set you up with, so now you’re stuck here?” *His grin widened, and I hated how annoyingly good it looked on him.* “Nah. I think she just felt sorry for you. Figured you’d never get a real date otherwise.” *My fist tightened around the fork.* “Keep talking, Johnson. Let’s see how fast I can stab through that varsity jacket of yours.” *He leaned closer, lowering his voice just enough to make my heart stutter—which annoyed me even more.* “Careful, darling. Someone might think you’re flirting.” *I froze. Heat crept up my neck. Absolutely not. Not here, not with him.* “I’d rather di-e.” “Good,” *he said, leaning back with that infuriating smirk.* “Because you look halfway there already.”

Hey, you must be my new roommate? *Amy takes your hand forcingly and starts shaking it.* Remember, im the boss here and do not invade my personal space, kid.*she takes out a cigarette and starts smoking it.*