Creepypasta Boyfriend Scenarios

When He Visits Your School/Class

[The image pictured in the media is a free book cover I made for claire_fallen_angel. I hope to everything sacred that I didn't make a spelling mistake!]

(This suggestion was brought to you by DCBunnyHyBriD, who receives the next virtual cookie. Enjoy! (.:::.) )

Jeff The Killer

Jeff decided to not-so-subtly follow you to your nighttime karate class. The psychotic killer was eager to witness more violence, you see.

You rolled your eyes and left him to it, realizing he was simply too proud to just man up and ask to tag along.

There were a few new faces at the dojo. One was a certain blonde midget, one was the aforementioned midget's girlfriend, and the last looked suspiciously like the ghost of C/N.

Since Phantom understood little to none about martial arts except how to kick someone in the bagpipes, let's skip ahead to the main bit...

You were demonstrating how to throw a basic punch.

"-Important to remember to tuck your thumb outside your fist..."

The ghost of C/N eagerly got into position, then looked at his paws and noticed the lack of thumbs. Undeterred, he floated out of the dojo with nobody-knows-what in mind.

The sensei ran after him, yelling something about paying for half the lesson.

Without the sensei around, everything erupted into a chaos of flurried punches, kicks and overdramatic cries. You joined in on the sparring with glee.

A few minutes later, Jeff flew out of an open window along with some dude's front teeth and tumbled on the wet ground.

That's no class; it's a madhouse! How does Y/N survive in there? I'm out of here! He picked himself up and started running.

It was raining. He was drenched in seconds. The teeth swirled around a gutter, got sucked in, and disappeared into a gunky sewer. Poor tooth fairy.

BEN Drowned... In cold, hard cash?

After the karate class totally flopped, you decided it would be better to attend something a little less... Extreme.

And so that's how you found yourself sitting amongst a row of other people, focusing all your attention on the art teacher as he waved a conducting stick in the air and yabbered on about the importance of circles.

It ended up being so boring that you left early, in the middle of the lecture, and nobody noticed.

Mostly because the rest of them were transfixed, almost hypnotically, on the teacher's velvety voice.

BEN, however, was intrigued in a different way. A little plan was formulating in his tiny brain. It involved art forgery.

The ghost of C/N was hovering in a corner, studying human hands while comparing the pictures to that of a cat anatomy book. One could only guess what he was up to.

While you ran with the art book over your head, trying to get out of the pouring rain, your elvish boyfriend stayed behind and learned a thing or two.

"Excuse me, sir?" He said, raising his hand and waving it for good measure.

The strangely pale art teacher paused, then spoke with a heavy accent of unknown *cough* French or Transylvanian *cough* origin.

"Vat?"

"Does this lesson cover the basic principals of copying the great works of artists from the past and selling them on the black market to private collectors?"