#i could write paragraphs about the way ice is so present in the movie despite only having only one scene

[maverices]

anybody else ever think about mav sending ice off with the wings ice has given to him, again and again and again over the course of decades, or is it just me

[likeshipsonthesea]

I dare you to post their get together from chowder's perspective because you're an amazing and magical writer and I'd love to read it at any level of editing

well u did dare me :P inspired heavily by this post

the thing is, chowder really, really loves his new friends.

nursey is so cool and funny and nice and he knows all this poetry that sounds so cool and he always saves chowder a piece of pie when he isn’t there and bitty’s on a baking binge, and he helps chowder write Important Emails and doesn’t even complain when chowder asks him about the exclamation point in the third paragraph for the fourth time

and dex is really smart and has a dry sense of humor and he cares so much about people even when he pretends he doesn’t, he does his laundry when chowder does and lets chowder match all the socks while he folds both of their clothes with like retail level precision and he’s great to sit and work on coding with and never gets upset when chowder interrupts him to ask him why a certain part isn’t working right and he helps bitty make him soup and pastries when he gets sick right before finals week their frog fall semester

and they’re both swawesome at hockey, they do their very best to keep the dirty puck away from his net, and they are such swawesome people and literally the only thing he doesn’t like about his new friends is how adamant they are about not liking each other

he tries, at first, to correct their complaining when they come to him. “the guy refuses to listen to anyone who isn’t himself,” nursey groans, muffled, because his face is pressed against chowder’s pillow, and chowder very kindly explains that dex is a bit stubborn sometimes but he always listens to chowder, even when he has a differing opinion, and when dex wraps himself in chowder’s duvet like a burrito and grumbles out, “he acts like he’s chill all the fucking time just to fuck with me,” chowder says that nursey acts like he’s chill even when dex isn’t there and also, why do you think he’s acting?? i think he’s just that chill

but as time goes on he realizes that neither of them believe him because they haven’t seen it for themselves and, look, he could try and orchestrate some plot where they secretly see one another being good people and miraculously change their opinion about each other and they all become a happy trio of friendos with no animosity at all, but chowder is also an ncaa athlete, a stem major, and someone who likes to party a fair amount. he’s got no time for that kind of bullshit.

and so they go through spring term and things aren’t greeattt all the time and sometimes nursey and dex get into screaming matches on the quad and chowder just has to pretend like he doesn’t know them, but most of the time it’s good, it’s fine, and he really does love his friends.

then they lose the frozen four, something happens that neither of them will tell him about, and the fuckers go and gang up on him

it seems, after all the times chowder told them about how they’re both funny and good at hockey and passionate about school and all the other things they have in common, they decide instead to bond over their mutual love of chirping their very best friend in the whole wide world.

to be honest, he’s just glad they’re getting along.

and they still show up at his room all hours of the night and day to burrow into his bed and complain about each other, but at least now chowder lives in the haus and he can eat pie as he pretends to listen to them.

and maybe he starts noticing how some of the complaints aren’t necessarily the kind of thing you’d expect, like “how are his eyes so fucking green, it’s impossible to win an argument when he’s staring at you” or “have you seen how many freckles he has after summer break?? he’s like one giant freckle, it’s unfairly distracting” and despite not really paying attention, he starts to notice when the tone of complaining changes from i hate this guy to i hate how pretty this guy is

he never brings it up. once again, he does not have time to try and get his two best friends together on top of all his other responsibilities, but he notes it down anyway. for being-a-good-friend-purposes. like when ransom sets nursey up with a girl on the volleyball team, chowder spends the whole night watching monty python movies with dex on the couch, and kindly ignores the relief in dex’s shoulders when nursey shows up to breakfast the next day and relays that the date was a bust. and when they’re doing workouts at the gym, chowder very deftly navigates nursey away from the weights when dex is using them to spare him from turning into a mumbling mess at the sight of dex’s arms

and maybe he notices when they start becoming more self aware and the complaining-about-appearance becomes complaining-about-good-things, like nursey saying, in the middle of a rant, “you know he’s fixed betsy like fifteen times in the past two weeks? how the fuck can you fix an oven fifteen different ways? that’s insane” or when dex pauses his recount of nursey’s ridiculous chill behavior to mention, “he’s been editing ransom’s thesis because he knows how much ransom stresses over grammar and he’s like, really good at it”

and it’s probably at this point that chowder breaks the bro code and tells farmer all about his dumb friends and their dumb mutual infatuation, because lbr here the boy cannot handle all this pining on his own. “they’re in love with each other but they think it’s hate”

“i know, i know” farmer soothes, running her fingers through his hair

“why are boys so dumb” chowder laments

farmer, who is currently wearing her best bra and pantie set under her clothes, sighs deeply. “i don’t know,” she says, equally forlorn.

then, well, then the dib flip happens and nursey and dex are literally shoved together and either one or both of them -- chowder has an inkling that it’s dex, but he’s not sure -- seems to freak out and neither of them comes to his room to complain for the rest of the term.

and then chowder has the greatest summer of his life, his former captain wins the stanley cup, and bitty and jack get to kiss on center ice, and chowder gets to attend a training camp with the falcs and jack and he’s on the ice with twenty stanley cup champions and chowder doesn’t come down from this high until he shows up at the haus and finds out that something has gone horribly wrong.

despite the frequent texts, calls, and facetimes, dex and nursey didn’t seem to have as great summers as they’d made it appear. they don’t really tell him directly -- that’s another thing they have in common, never talking about their emotions plainly -- but from what chowder can glean from what they do tell him, is that dex’s family seemed to take jack and bitty’s coming out as evidence towards dex’s queerness and they were dealing with it... less than great, and nursey’s parents had a fight and had since been jettisoning around the world for “work” in an attempt to avoid one another and, as a result, nursey

the living together thing goes.. not swawesome. chowder is obviously disappointed that he no longer has his two best friends just a bathroom away, but after dex moves into the basement, both nursey and dex start coming back to his room for complain sessions again and it’s -- chowder wants to say it’s a good sign.

it starts out mostly complaint complaining, the familiar stuff from their frog year, but slowly but surely as the year goes on the old “his fucking hair” and “he literally helped a little old lady carry her groceries to her car” come back into play and chowder lets go of some stress he hadn’t realized he’d been holding

“they’re going to make me go gray before i’ve even hit 25,” chowder says, another night when he’s complaining to farmer, and farmer says, “you’d look sexy as a silver fox,” and, well. the rest of the night is spent very much not complaining

senior year, they’ve got an ncaa championship under their belt and dex is the captain. he stops coming to chowder’s dorm, probably out of some sense of loyalty to his team that chowder finds both ridiculous and sweet. nursey seems to have no qualms complaining about his captain, on the other hand, but soon even the thin veneer of complaining he’d covered all his pining with has washed away.

“he’s so good with the baby frogs,” and “never tell this to another living soul, but his cherry pie is even better than bitty’s,” and, one memorable night, “do you think i’m in love with dex?”

it’s after sunset, the world dark outside chowder’s window but he’s not exactly sure of the time, and nursey’s lying on his bed, staring up at the ceiling and he looks -- chill. he doesn’t always look chill anymore -- looking back, chowder can admit that maybe the ever-present chill from their frog year had been more a show than anything else -- so this chill means something important, chowder thinks.

chowder thinks, smiling a little, that nursey is finally ready.

“of fucking course i think you’re in love with dex,” chowder bursts out with the frustration that’s a by-product of having patience for three and a half fucking years. “you’ve come into my room at all hours of the day since we were freshmen to complain about how pretty his freckles are, you’ve been in love with the dude for years, and i’ve had to sit here and deal with all of it.”

nursey’s staring at him with a slightly open mouthed, wide-eyed expression.

chowder gathers his poise and then says, very calmly, “yes.”

nursey nods, once or twice slowly and then picking up speed. “wow. okay.”

��i’ve been holding that in for a while.”

“i could tell.”

“hmm.”

a stupid, hopeful, optimistic part of chowder thought that would be the end of it. nursey realized he’s in love with dex, he’d tell dex, and they’d be all stupid and gross and finally chowder would get them back for years of fines.

but nothing seems to change. nursey still comes in and ostensibly complains while pining and dex still doesn’t, instead apparently baking away his frustration (and it’s not like chowder’s going to complain about that) and really, chowder should’ve known these two idiots would need more than a few sentences to get over their combined stupidity

it comes to a head a week before graduation. never let it be said that chowder’s friends are anything less than Dramatic Fuckers

he’s helping dex pack away everything he won’t need in the next few days so when he and nursey leave for new york after graduation there won’t be much to do. he finds a random green beanie in a drawer with dex’s workout clothes and says, “hey, where should i put this?” and dex gets the most ridiculous sappy look on his face.

he hasn’t technically been chowder’s captain since the season ended with a back to back ncaa championship a month ago, and it’s not like dex has any authority over him after how many times he bugged chowder about nursey’s nose, so it’s without hesitation and with purely dex’s best interests at heart that chowder says, “you know you’re in love with him, right?”

dex surprises him then by saying, “yeah.”

a vein in chowder’s neck nearly pops. “then why the fuck have i been listening to nursey pine about your eyelashes for months.”

dex’s eyes widen and, when he gets over the surprise elation whatever, he stumbles over some stupid explanation that captains shouldn’t date their players and it wasn’t the right time and all this other absolute crap, and so chowder does the most meddling he’s ever allowed himself to do and tells dex that he will finish the packing as long as he goes and finds nursey right this fucking second

when nursey and dex tell the story to him and farmer later -- dex blushing and nursey embellishing with his arm curled around dex’s shoulders, pulling him close -- chowder will laugh and tease them and play his part as their very best friend in the whole wide world.

but that night, when he’s gross and sweaty from packing up dex’s entire fucking room and he can’t even sleep in his own goddamned bed because his friends are being exceptionally loud just one bathroom away, he shows up on farmer’s doorstep and says, with all the sincerity in the world, “i hate my friends”

[gallifreyanlibertea]

No Homo

a/n: Hey! I’m doing well, anon, how are you? I suppose I am taking requests... apparently lol, and this was fun to write so here! 

Also @ no homo anon :) Feel like I forced the title on but whatever. @egggplannt knows I had different ideas for a fic titled No Homo but I’d also probably never get it done. 

Also, I researched but I’m lazy so if there are inaccuracies be nice to me.

“Is this all really necessary?”

Alfred checked the time on the face of his watch, readjusting his glasses as he peered in through a window, turning to glance over his shoulder to toss a beaming smile back in Arthur’s direction. “They’re almost done, Your Royal Highness.”

“I thought I told you to just call me Arthur,” Arthur grumbled in response.

To which Alfred smiled yet again, “Yeah, babe, but I just like saying it.”

Arthur hummed with a light smile on his lips, watching as Alfred took his hand to bring it up to those lips, kissing the ring on his middle finger. “My prince.”

They were beautiful. Those big blue eyes with that bigger smile and those beautiful dimples, simply stunning. Arthur just wasn’t worthy. 

It was a moment. Like in those movies where the lead met their love interest’s gaze and they shared a smile. And you could see the sparks in the air. This was it, this was what they had that very moment. 

Then the back door of the McDonald’s burst open and Alfred threw Arthur’s hand back down like it was poison, infected, something sent to kill him- Arthur held his assaulted body part to his chest as Alfred wiped his hands down on his trousers.

“All cleared for your date, Sir.” The man in black said sternly.

“It’s not a date,” Alfred replied almost immediately, eyes wide, lips parting for a nervous laugh. “We’re- no, this… my dad made me do it, okay?”

And Arthur sighed, following along behind as they were led into a greasy American fast food restaurant, escorted by men in suits, as discreet as they were bold.

It was strange.

He’d never thought he’d be out with any significant American figure, much less the bloody President’s son, he rarely ever left home. And who would? A land so perfectly gloomy, perfectly rainy, perfectly to his liking, a place that wasn’t foreign. Somewhere he felt at peace.

That was something he couldn’t say for the U.S.A. Special relationship, they’d said. No one else had been available at the time President Jones had called for a friendly banquet, so Arthur and his brothers would go to America on England’s behalf, just a few familiar faces because it was rude to turn someone down, yes.

And he had hated it. It was so very hot. It was so very sunny. It was so very, very foreign.

Alfred grinned at him from across the table, “Whaddya wanna eat?”

Arthur blinked, squinting up at the giant menu posted above the register, which, from their seat, was a bit blurry actually. “I suppose I’ll just have a tea.”

“Iced or sweet?”

“I beg your pardon?”

Oh, and not to mention saying things like “iced or sweet tea” was common here.

But it hadn’t been too bad. The banquet at the beginning of last month had been his first visit, and they’d treated him like, well, royalty.

He was a prince after all. That was the bare minimum, yet it hadn’t been excessive. A light, airy meeting with the Head of State, some other men he assumed were important, and he’d been left on his own to roam the banquet hall, sampling the food and nodding politely at anyone who nodded at him first.

With an experience as bland and frankly boring as that, why would you say was he here again, when he could’ve been anywhere else?

To put it simply, Alfred Jones.

“I think I’ll get a Big Mac, hm… maybe some large fries, a McFlurry? Yes, oreo, and my friend here will have a sweet tea.”

“I most certainly will not,” Arthur said with a fold of his arms and Alfred rolled his eyes, stage-whispering in the cashier’s direction.

“Yes, he will.”

Alfred liked to put on a show. That was one of the many things Arthur had found out about him the day he’d first met him, catching his intent, blue-eyed gaze across the banquet to find him suddenly looking away.

He’d continued watching as Mr. President had nudged Alfred in Arthur’s direction, mouthing what seemed to be “go, go!”.

Needless to say, Arthur, a bit red-faced, had pretended not to see it.

“You know, I can’t believe this, Artie.”

“Don’t call me that.”

Alfred sighed almost dreamily, leaning on his propped-up palm as he, to Arthur’s disgust, stirred his milkshake with a fry. “Me, here, with you.”

“Why is that such a good thing?” Was Arthur’s response, and Alfred sat up straight, those eyes sparkling behind the rims of his glasses.

“Don’t’cha know? You’re my hero!”

Yes, Alfred had said it before. The same first words he’d said to Arthur after finally being convinced to walk across the hall, greeting Arthur with a sunny smile and an extended hand.

“Gosh, Prince Arthur, you’re my hero.”

Arthur had been miffed. It’s hadn’t been a thing he’d expected to hear from anyone, much less someone like Alfred, but Alfred had continued on- “The way you carry yourself, the things you speak out for, all your charity work, it’s an honor meeting you.”

If Arthur hadn’t already been blushing to the roots of his hair, he had been by then.

And he said the same thing to Alfred now that he’d said back then, “Good God.”

“I mean it!” Alfred said with a loud laugh, one that attracted people’s attention despite the attention already burnt onto them because they were, well, the President’s son and a prince of England eating at a local McDonald’s. “I admire you.”

Arthur smirked knowingly and Alfred’s expression melted into one of embarrassment. “You’ve made that clear.”

“Can we not talk about that?”

It was obviously something too sensitive to be speaking about in public so Arthur made the motion of zipping his lips, finding that the wider his smile broke, the deeper Alfred’s frown.

“Arthur, shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything.” Was Arthur’s nonchalant response.

After all, it didn’t need to be said. They both remembered the event in mind pretty clearly, along with the many other things Alfred had done that were worthy enough to bring up, that would leave him turning a rather deep shade of red.

The way he had abashedly asked for Arthur’s number that day at the banquet, to call him, of course, because Alfred didn’t have many influential friends his age. Arthur had complied hesitantly, only to be bombarded with texts the minute he’d stepped out of the White House, but that wasn’t the point.

The point was what he’d been texting.

Have a safe journey, Arthur had smiled before boarding his plane. How was your day today? And Arthur had told him just how boring it had been. What did you have for lunch? The boy was just so interested in anything he did, and Arthur was anything if more than happy to talk about himself. Alfred too, it seemed, because when Arthur would ask questions back, he’d get paragraph-long responses.

Then there were what are you wearing?’s and Arthur would sit right up in bed, eyes wide and blinking as he squinted at the three moving ellipses at the bottom of the screen. Haha, I’m just joking!

Right.

It had only escalated from there.

What are you up to? I’m bored, Arthur would reply, to which Alfred would say, I wish I was there to fix that. What would you do, Arthur would say, and Alfred would send some infernal winking emoji, What would you want me to do?

Arthur would humor the lad, but it had never gotten graphic. It seemed obvious then how Alfred had felt about him, and with some of Arthur’s responses, Good night, love, he’d assumed Alfred had understood as well.

Which is why he’d even flown back to the U.S that morning when Alfred had invited him to spend the day, something his father had agreed to because it was always good when the son made buddy-buddy with a prince.

“Welcome back to the states, Your Royal Highness.”

“Please, call me Arthur when we’re alone like this.” It would make it less awkward. They’d met at the White House with not one soul present, and Arthur had felt a bit betrayed to have Alfred being so formal with him.

Alfred had smiled, “Okay.”

Silence. Arthur had smiled back, and Alfred smiled wider, and Arthur smiled wider, and Alfred had grinned, and Arthur had assumed it to be some sort of silent banter introducing a conversation but Alfred had looked around, confirming the room to be empty, before pulling Arthur into a bruising kiss.

Needless to say, Arthur had not expected that.

He had not expected to be tilted backward by the sheer force of that kiss, he did not expect those arms to be wrapped around him, holding him upright, he did not expect Alfred to pull away with a pop, with a dreamy look on his face.

Perhaps the fact that it had taken him by surprise had shown on Arthur’s features. Jaw dropped incredulously, eyes wide, face lacking the adoration Alfred seemed to have laced into the blue of his eyes.

“What the hell?”

“Oh gosh, I-” Those very eyes widened and he had stepped away, hands held out cautiously as if Arthur was some sort of animal. “I-”

Arthur had blinked, watching as Alfred’s cheeks flushed red. “No homo!”

What.

“I swear, I’m not gay!”

Arthur unwittingly touched his lips as Alfred made a scene of wiping his, rather ferociously with the sleeve of his shirt. “I don’t know why I did that, please don’t tell anyone, I-”

Alfred had practically been babbling, and Arthur could say he understood it.

He understood why the son of the president of the United States would deny being gay so vehemently, would be torn down to a vulnerable stump at the thought of someone as important as Arthur being able to out him. It was a dangerous world, and the progress made still wasn’t enough. It was the same reason Arthur had practically lived in the closet since he was twelve, and he understood.

He had glanced around the empty room before dragging Alfred behind what seemed like a curtain, taking that face in his hands to place a soft kiss on those lips, pulling away to place a finger on them as if to shush him, his own lips tilting up in a smile.

So there they were, on a date that wasn’t a date, because they couldn’t afford one. Arthur’s hand brushed Alfred’s… accidentally, as he reached for the fries. Alfred kicked his foot playfully from under the table. “It was embarrassing.”

“It was charming.” Arthur mused with a light smile.

Alfred’s hand grazed Arthur’s knee under the table, invitingly, and Arthur set his hand down to meet it, biting back a grin as Alfred squeezed his palm with a wink that was gone as fast as it came.

“What do you say about me coming to England one day?”

“I suppose I could show you around.” Arthur sipped from his tea, momentarily forgetting its atrocious identity. “No homo, of course.”

Alfred kicked him from under the table. 

[monsterpark-rpg]

Mike "Vampir" Makowski- Accepted

Mun Info:

Name- Bon

Age- 24

Pronouns- they/them

Time Zone- GMT +1

Discord- Mike Makowski#1605

Ic Info:

Character’s name- Mike “Vampir” Makowski

Age- 19

Gender/pronouns- Bigender, but they are not out to anyone about this. Pronouns are he/him, she/her or they/them when identifying as a male, and she/her and they/them when identifying as female. Again, no one knows this! Everyone believes Mike uses he/him only.

Species- Human

Physical description-

Mike is the definition of a bean pole. Being 5 feet & 10 inches tall, lanky and thin with long arms and legs, as well as struggling with an eating disorder, Mike is a pretty frail looking person despite his height. There are no muscles to be found here. Mike still looks like he did when he was younger, dressing in the same jackets, cloaks and flashy outfits, and never leaving his house without his makeup on. He’s gotten a few new piercings in his ears, as well as a snake bites piercing. His favourite one is the one on his neck, where he got two studs resembling the holes of a vampire bite. He still wears plastic fangs that are attached to his corner teeth.

Mike’s hair is surprisingly not as long as one would expect it to be after so many years of sporting long hair. Because of reasons unknown to even the other vamps, he cut it off when he was around 17 years old. It’s grown out quite a bit now though and ends around his shoulders. His hair is black and has underlights in bright lime green, and he’s still sporting that silly little cow lick on top of his head. Mike has long bangs covering the left side of his face, not only because it looks stylish, but because he is covering up his left eye, that he is completely blind in. It is foggy white in colour because of a cataract in it, while his good eye is bright green. He never shows his eye to anybody, so people do not even know that he is blind in it.

Personality description- 

Mike is the passionate leader of the vamp kids. He loves to organise events and play around with the other vamps, loves to roleplay online, LARP, write fan fics, draw, etc etc… He loves to educate and bring people together! He adores every single vamp kid to bits, and would take a bullet for them any day.

This doesn’t mean he’s very brave though, or good at fighting. He’s been abused his whole life, and will flinch if someone moves their hand too fast in his direction, and is very easy to manipulate. He is bad at saying no, and if someone tries to speak over him, he’ll shut up and let them talk.

He is generally a very friendly person, and always feels a need to help and look out for those around him. He’s the big brother friend for sure. Or big sister, depending on the day. The only ones that can make Mike angry or bring out a good amount of sass, are the goths. He tries to ignore them if he can though. Over all, Mike is an outgoing weenie who loves his friends.

Background-

Mike grew up in an abusive household, away from his mother and Mr. Adams. When he was little his parents divorced early on, and he stayed with his father, while his twin brother went with their mother. His father blamed the twins for the divorce, convinced that the fault was in him and their mother not being ready to have two kids instead of one, and not because of his actual flaws as a person. He is physically and emotionally abusive, very manipulating, and the reason why Mike can seem like a pushover and hesitant to fight back. However he is also trying to overcome his struggles, so don’t think that he’s a door mat or anything for you to walk all over.

Growing up Mike always loved the occult and scary things, and was a huge fan of vampires way before the trend took off at school. If anything, what pushed him to really get the fad going, was the sudden popularity of the Twilight movies, and he saw a chance to express his love for vampires more openly. He surprised himself when he naturally fell into the leader role of the vamp kids, and with the position his confidence grew, he made some great friends, and the club pretty much became his life. Even as an 19 year old, he’s still managing the club with great passion.

Head cannons-

Mike is trans bigender, but still in the closet, presenting himself as a cis male. Only one or two people know about his actual gender, and Mike has told them to not tell a soul. He sometimes identifies as male, and sometimes female. He never knows how long he’ll identify as either, it can be a single day, a week, a month, or a whole year. He vastly prefers the name Vampir when identifying as female because it is gender neutral, and therefore always asks people to call him Vampir, to make it more natural. (OOC I might refer to Mike/Vampir as he/him, but also she/her. I kept the pronouns as he/him and referred to him as “Mike” on this application to make it easier to read as a whole)

Mike has a lisp with or without the clumsy vampire fangs, because of a tongue thrust he’s had to deal with his whole life. It could have been corrected with braces, but his dad never bothered to get him any luxury like that. He struggles the most on s, c, z, sh and th sounds, and it is very noticable.

Mike has ADD. This mostly presents itself in his wild imagination (he loved to play pretend when he was little, specifically that he was a vampire..), the way his mind jumps between topics, and how he’s bad at keeping things in his head. He has a short attention span and struggles to show interest in stuff he’s not passionate about (and he jumps stuff when he IS). He misreads things and sometimes skips certain words when typing something up. When he ends up in arguments, his mind goes completely blank, and he’ll either leave, or completely lose his side of the argument. He however is very calm in general, and laid back. He takes Ritalin when he feels the need for it.

Mike wants to become a teacher at South Park Elementary, an art and history teacher to be specific. He loves to draw with great passion, especially old buildings from the gothic revival, but he also draws more lighthearted stuff like characters and animals. He has his own webcomic that is starting out around this age, it’s about vampires (of course). It’s very good, and surprisingly innocent. He takes commissions and just loves to draw vampsonas for his friends (or whatever you might want from him… weirdos).

Mike can summon spirits, has a lot of experiences in spiritual games and rituals, such as using a ouija board, and playing “One-man hide and seek” by his lonesome. He’s made some poor choices in the past, and today he never goes into these situations without making sure it is as safe as possible.

Mike can see dead people, spirits of those that have passed on. He actually can’t tell them apart from people who are actually alive most of the time, which can lead to some awkward moments. He can’t sense the difference between the living and dead, but he can see and touch them no problem. It’s plagued him every since he was little, and he learned early on that he shouldn’t talk about it, because it’d anger his father, have him end up calling him crazy, and more often than not resulted in him getting hurt somehow.

Sample roleplay (two paragraphs)- 

The last people Mike had wanted to run into this morning were the goths. He avoided them all like the plague, and he always made sure to never be left alone with any of them if he could. It was shameful to admit, but he just didn’t feel safe around them, and really, how could he? They had jumped him and beaten him up when he was just a kid, and sent him somewhere far away all alone. Even if they would’ve tried to apologise, it’d be difficult to accept. The encounter had been bad, he had said some things he would regret, and he was now in a sour mood… But it was nothing that the other vamp kids couldn’t fix.

As soon as he spotted them by their lockers the frown was instantly flipped upside down, and he picked up his pace to meet up with Larry, Katie, and the rest of the vamps. Years had passed, some of them were not as into vampires as they used to be… but they all remained friends. He excitedly told them about an event that he had planned for the younger vamps, or ‘baby bats’ as he so fondly called them, and quite a few of them said that they’d love to help out. With a dorky, fanged grin, the lord and dark master of the vamps took the lead down the hallway, excitedly exclaiming “It will be a night they will not thoon forget!”

Free Hat 👌