#i have filled at least one full doodle page by now

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

figuring out how to draw him. its surprisingly challenging!

[jellyluvr]

Good girl 2

- Kai x fem reader ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

Same thing 4 this one as last time. Professor x student. Also this is 4 @lucypetersworld, or anyone else who wanted a pt2

Tw: hardcore sex, doggystyle, smut, and kai punishing you. (Spankings)

S: you go back to class and kai is waiting for you

The outfit is what I imagined for reader to wear!! Minus the emo btw lol

(You can imagine whatever u want tho!!)

Ever since you had left the class yesterday you had been on edge about the whole thing. You knew it was wrong for your teacher to do that... but you loved it. You had liked it too much for you to just leave that feeling away.

So you decided to wear another one of your slutty skirts. This time it was black mini skirt and a black cami. You were carrying your bookbag as well, and entered the classroom, kais eyes shifting to you. Unfortunately for the both of you there were people in there so you couldn't do anything.

You just flashed a smile before going up the small steps quickly and going in your usual spot. There were a few people in class, and kai just returned with the lesson.

And it was practically the same as yesterday's.

He knew exactly what he was doing. While you looked over the notes 'Mr Anderson' had written for you, you realized he had just given you the ones from what would be today. So, you didn't do anything. This time, you were able to drink your coffee, the hot liquid stinging your tongue.

You were probably going to regret that later. But at least you got to enjoy it.

And as you watched kai move, you realized what you had worn today really matched what he was wearing... just barely. Of course, it wasn't intentional.. but you did think it was cute.

But all you could think of was how he made you feel. How his big hands had touched you... how his fingers had made you squirm. You still hadn't quite figured it out yet. And how warm he was when you sat on his lap.

I mean, you had never sat on a lap before, but it was definitely weird how he had been so warm. Was it because maybe he-

"Y/n?" Kai spoke, bringing you out of your thoughts.

"Huh?" You looked down. You weren't sure what he wanted. You had only been thinking of yesterday, and you were positive he knew that.

"Are you writing this down..?" He stared up at you. He was acting like a total prick, but you knew later he'd be sweet. But you were definitely not taking notes. It wasn't like you could say that he had written them in for you, though... so it was simple, "Yeah." With a nod.

He shouldn't have even been monitoring you. It wasn't his job. All he did was give lectures to kids and let them do whatever they wanted. He just looked out for you, and it made it obvious something was going on.

Maybe you were just anxious. You hadn't even noticed your finger had slipped in between your teeth. Why were you acting so weird? You weren't the type to bite her god damn nails... take those out of your mouth.

And that was exactly what you did. You'd need to straighten up before the 5 people in the classroom left. You couldn't embarrass yourself. It was already pretty embarrassing that you didn't know what he had done to your body yesterday. You couldn't embarrass yourself further. It was almost impossible but what If you tripped on your way down there?

What if he thinks you look bad in black? What if he thinks you're gross..?

It was always what if that got you afraid. "What if" was enough to scare the shit out of you. Just all the scenarios were frightening.

What if he knows you're nervous? Then what would he do? Maybe he'd be a little nicer? Rougher? Waiting for the future frustrated you. You wanted the future now. You already had the notes for the lesson.. so, you turned to another page.

It was blank, of course, but you put your pen to it, making it full of life in some way.

You filled the page with small doodles, stupid ideas, and quotes you had read online. Drawing was always something to calm you down. Music, too. So, you made a little strawberry with limbs in the bottom left corner, little music notes surrounding him. Or her. You weren't quite sure yet.

But, one person began to leave. That always made others leave, so now you started to pay attention more. To the people, not the lesson. Your eyes grazed over each time someone moved, the way they shifted in their seats and played with their colored markers.

You envied 'those girls' organization. The plush pink highlighters and dull blues. The perfect black pen to write down anything. Oh, how lucky they were. So fucking annoying too.

You hated the way they dress though. They all looked the same. The same leggings the same croptops... it was embarrassing. They honestly looked really ugly. Their blonde hair was like blinding. Their stupid bracelets and fancy necklaces. You knew they'd probably grow up to be an accountant at an elementary school. Probably still with a stick up their ass too.

You kept watching the people in your class. Where it was weird, you were bored. Drawing wasn't your strongest suit despite you doing it so much. That's what you thought, at least.

Then, finally, one girl stood up and grabbed her books, her little friend following. They giggled and laughed once they left.. and that finally left you and kai. Alone.

That word started to scare you. You felt your stomach drop.. like on the Rollercoasters. On the drop. Your stomach turned, your insides feeling almost hot? And that had been all it took for you to become wet. Just the thought of being with kai, Mr. Anderson.

"Y/n would you come down here please? Bring your notes." He smiled, turning his head back to his desk and doing something that you knew was nonexistent. Your body froze. You looked at him, then back at your notebook. Nothing. Absolutely nothing was on that paper. Just two little doodles. You turned the page, half the notes written. Barely anything, but maybe he wouldn't be so hard on you?

You stood up, making sure to pull down your skirt a little from how short it was. You took your notebook and fancy black pen, then walked down. 'Don't trip, don't trip...' you mumbled to yourself, watching your every step. These damn stairs were so narrow... so tiny. It was ridiculous, but finally you reached the tiled floor, Mr. Anderson's desk peeking from your peripheral vision.

You looked up, only being met with him also looking up. He moved his blue hair out of his face before gesturing you over. Fuck, you were afraid.

Your feet began to move, your mind moving faster than anything in the room. Your mind was going too fast.. too much thoughts to think. Then, you had made it beside his desk.

"Did you write everything down? I wouldn't want you to fail.." he laughed lightly, taking your book from your hands and placing it on his desk with a 'thump'.

You watched his expression change as he read the little amount of notes you had.. you had barely written anything down. Of course he'd be mad.

"Sorry." You squeaked out, your hands coming infront of your mouth to bite on your nails. You stopped yourself, awkwardly putting your hands down. Kai looked up at you, still not saying anything.

"Is there a reason you didn't write anything down?" He asked, resting his head on his hand. He was obviously disappointed.. you couldn't even say anything more.

You opened your mouth lightly, your eyes moving across the room for any type of answer.

"Turn around." He said sternly. He wasn't fucking around clearly.. so you turned around. You heard him get up from his chair, his weight causing it to squeak a little. You felt your waist get grabbed from behind before your whole body moved, your chest being pushed up against his desk and your ass up for his enjoyment.

"You know what happens to girls who don't do what they're told.. don't you?" He asked, his hands moving up and down your back. You swallowed, feeling how your skirt was riding up. You knew your panties were visible.. and it made you so much more wet for him.

"I- no.." you said, your hands moving out infront of you. Then, before you could even register what was happening you felt a hard slap on your ass. You yelped, your eyes shutting with the pain.

"You get punished." You felt another hard slap in the same spot, making you gasp. It stung. Your ass stung... with pleasure. Your pussy started to clench around nothing... you were desperate for any type of touch.

Then, you felt a slap right on your cunt. Perfectly angle to touch your clit.. you moaned. Immediately you covered your mouth, your eyes going shut farther.

"Mr. Anderson.." you let your hand fall off your face, your eyes opening. Then, you heard the clinks of his belt coming undone, then his pants falling to the floor. Your head turned to look at him, but he then pulled down his boxers, his hot erection pushing up against your panties.

You moaned a little, your bottom lip going into your teeth for a second.

"Sh..." he hushed you, his hand going to your panties, his thumb carefully going to your clothed, drenched pussy. You let out a little whimper, but right in the middle of it you felt your panties getting ripped, then his tip rubbing against your wet folds.

"So wet for me... good girl." He praised, but then that quickly became nothing. He teased your pussy a little more, and you were going to ask him to stop.. so you could collect yourself, his cock plunged in you, deep. Very deep. You let out all the air in your mouth, your pussy hugging his cock nicely.

He let out a groan, but it turned into a laugh before you felt him slam into you, his hands going to your ass. You moaned a little more, feeling your eyes get pricked with tears.

"Fuck, you're tight.." he closed his eyes, looking down at his cock that was fully into you. He slapped your ass again, then thrusted into you once more. He went past your cervix.. it just hurt so much. Kai clearly didn't care, he continued to stretch you out, his hands kneading your ass.

"Oooh! Mm~" you bit your lip, he dick still fucking you hard. He pounded into you, his pelvis slamming into your ass and making so much noise. Then, as you moaned a whimpered you felt kais hand cover your mouth as he continued to fuck you.

"Good girls stay quiet.." he groaned, still slamming into you. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head while you continued to make noise, not being able to hold back. His cock was too big for you. Your small tight holes..

Kai went a little harder as he felt his orgasm reach closer, but he still went on. He didn't care if you were about 12 years younger than him.. he wanted you soo soo bad.

"Fuck fuck fuck.." he said to himself, then his thrust got a little sloppy, but he quickly pulled out, and you felt his cum go all over your panties and on your pussy. He finally let go of your mouth, his hand going to pump himself a little more..

"Agh..." he groaned, his dick becoming soft and it pulled from your body. You heard him pull his pants and underwear up, his fingers going to your pussy and rubbing the cum all over you.

You moaned a little, still trying to calm down from what just happened. He walked around the desk, coming infront of you before giving you a kiss on your head.

"Get used to it, sweetheart." He laughed lightly, walking out and leaving you there.

All you had gotten from this was ripped panties and a unsatisfied pussy.

Guess you'd have to come back.. over and over again.

.• °·~*° . •☆• . °*~·° •.

This one kinda sucks sorry. Also no pt3. You guys are gonna have to imagine it.. sorry

Also should I do a taglist?? I'm honestly thinking about it

And here u go @mrsmarch64.. my beloved🩷

[allfearstofallto]

I hear your pleas for ideas loud and clear so I raise you yandere Kaeya gaslighting tf out of you. So talented you are, but you always fumble when it comes to presenting your skills to the world. Oh so many wonderful ideas in that mind of yours - too bad they die on your lips.

And that's why you need him. To save you from embarrassing yourself as you clutch your latest creation that would undoubtedly revolutionize some industry against your chest as your eyes burn with unshed tears. It always baffled him that you thought that you were worthy of that honor. I mean, you can't even order a meal without shaking like a leaf.

You aren't built for this lifestyle, now are you? Geniuses could easily bounce back from failure, yet here you are, soaking his shirt with your never-ending tears. Were you ever a genius?

(basically Kaeya gaslight gatekeep girlbossing talented inventor darling into oblivion bc I just know this man would be jealous if you were famous. I'm so sorry for writing so much but this idea has been eating me up inside so now I send it to you. May I be 🐇 Anon?)

🐇 anon, first of all, it is a pleasure to meet you! Secondly, my dear bun, you've saved my ass!! This was such a good prompt and it felt incredible to write!

Maybe I'm just in the mood to write gaslighting bitches cause this felt natural!!

Voiceless

Yandere! Kaeya x reader

TW: gaslight, and quite harsh words, but Kaeya is saying them so it's kinda sexy

If people could see what was going on inside your head, they'd think you were a genius. And you are, or at least, you believe that you are. But all those faces, all those eyes on you, those people looking at you makes your body go stiff and your words lodge in your throat. And in the end, you look like a bumbling idiot.

But you were his bumbling idiot. That's what he'd tell you at least. Hurtful words yes, but he meant them in an endearing way. His phrases were sweet and loving, even if to the average person they sounded a bit harsh. You explained to people that he didn't truly mean it that way, he was just trying to make you feel better.

“And how was it today?” He’d asked you. He always looked like a work of art when he came home from his long shifts. Every strap and piece of clothing would be pulled from his body as he spoke, he was so careless about showing himself off in front of you, but you were still flustered and shy around him.

With a sheepish smile, you held up the mora that he'd given you to use for a drink, completely untouched. You couldn't even bring yourself to leave the house. A dramatic sigh fell from his lips, but he still kneeled on the couch and wrapped his arms around your shoulders.

“Oh, you sweet, poor thing,” he whispered in your ear. He took your cheeks into his hands and squeezed them lightly, like he was coddling a child, “Still so shy aren't you? It's okay, I speak for you.”

It's like you breathed a sigh of relief when he spoke. All the weight of the world was lifted off your shoulder. You were a genius, yes, but you were a genius who could barely speak a full sentence to anyone. Except for Kaeya.

His charming smile and flashy personality made you weary at first. Why would someone like him be interested in something so quiet and timid? You felt like a coal in comparison to his flashy, diamond-like nature. Your mind was like a maze, endless corners and rooms filled with ideas, but you got lost in them as well, and just ended up choking on your own words.

Kaeya released you from his warm embrace and sat down next to you. He looked at the coffee table in front of you, covered in ideas and doodles that you'd have for your latest inventions. Your mouth never moved, but your brain was a constant machine, most days you couldn't get it to shut up. It all had to be let out, in notes or drawings.

He picked up one of the random pages, an idea for a water filter, and a chuckle fell from his lips, “And how would you pitch this one?” He asked. The way those words fell from his lips felt condescending, he already knew that you couldn't do it, but you knew better than to think that. It was just his love, it was how he showed it, he wanted you to succeed.

You felt yourself flush even thinking about it, but you still stood with the paper in your hands. Walking to the other side of the coffee table, you looked down at the notes you'd written. It was all there. Everything about your idea was right there, everything you needed to say was right in front of you. But when you looked up from the page, you felt dizzy, the letters on the paper began to merge and swirl together.

It was like your world had tilted on its axis and suddenly everything was lopsided. You felt yourself spinning, but you knew you were standing perfectly still. The only person looking at you was Kaeya. His beautiful self, like a statue crafted by the gods, was sitting there, focused on you.

An average person would love and adore the amount of attention someone like Kaeya gave. A smolder on his lips and all a sparkle in his eye. But you weren't the average person and you already felt as if you were sinking into yourself, like the world was about to swallow you whole, and before you knew it, tears had started to fall from your eyes.

“Can't even talk in front of me anymore, can you?” He asked and you gave him a slow, solemn nod. You tried to hold back sobs as you realized how truly useless you were. Unable to speak in front of even your own boyfriend, a true genius would never suffer from this.

“I'm- I'm sorry,” you'd somehow managed to stutter through your apology, but that much was to be expected of you. Tears fell onto the page and smeared the ink of your notes, but it didn't matter, it's not like you were going to read it anyways.

“That's the problem, my love,” he cooed to you in his usual tone, he stood from the couch and began scooping up all the pages that lay on the coffee table. All your ideas, all your work was crumbled up into a ball. It stung a bit, seeing everything you had worked so hard to make be treated like trash and thrown away, but nothing hurt more than your failures, “You're not built for this kind of thing. You know that, right?” He spoke close to your face, your lips brushing against your, soft like flower petals on your skin.

“I know,”

“But that's okay. Do you know why?” He asked, placing a gentle hand on your face and squeezing the fat of your cheeks.

“Because I'm yours. And I don't need to be smart to be yours,”

He held you close to his chest, peppering your forehead with kisses. All your work was thrown in the trash. “It's only making you unhappy,” he said. And he was right. You weren't ready for this. This type of thing wasn't for you. You only needed him.

So you lay in his arms and tried to stop the sniffling. He was the only person you'd need to talk to, he'd be your voice if needed be. You were only hurting yourself trying to do these things that you weren't made for.

[avatarmerida]

Um idk what to say about this except Hunter deserves to receive more compliments and Amity has never known how to process Willow’s taste in men

-

“Okay guys, just gimme like 10 minutes, okay?” Willow said, running eagerly ahead. “I just wanna check on my plants real quick. I’m sure they’re okay but I just wanna be totally sure because I-.”

“Go on, we’ll be fine!” Said Amity, seeing Willow was slowing herself down for their sake but desperately wanted to run ahead. Willow didn’t need to be told twice as she darted full speed up the stairs to her room. From the sound of it, her plants were just fine and delighted to see her. As they headed back to the Owl House, Willow’s house was on the way and when she had asked if they could make a quick pit stop Camila saw nothing wrong so long as they were quick and stayed together.

Hunter smiled at the distant sound of Willow happily greeting her plants as he looked around the living room, suddenly aware that it looked stuck in time. A few months ago it was brimming with life and light, and now it was dark and cold without Willow and her dads gracing the rooms with their love and laughter.

“Hey, what are these?” Hunter asked, turning to the dining room table which was covered in glossy brightly colored books.

“Oh, those are just some silly magazines Willow and I used to read when we’d do our homework,” said Amity as she walked in from the kitchen, the vibrant colors reminding her of a less chaotic time. “We would fill out the quizzes inside and gush about these bard coven bands and argue over who our favorite was.”

“Really? Heh.” Hunter flipped through the pages with a quizzical smirk, remembering Willow had once mentioned listening to a band once while they were messaging on penstagram back when they had first met. “Who was Willow’s favorite?”

“Take a guess.”

“Probably the most handsome one, right?” He said pointing to the obvious front man whose face was featured much more than the other members in the collection of mini posters that occupied the series of pages.

“Uh, not exactly,” said Amity, pointing to the corner to the “mysterious loner” of the group. His smile was more reserved than the others and his overall demeanor carried something... familiar.

“Him? Really?” Hunter chuckled, swearing he saw imprints of faded green lipstick stains near his photo. He wondered just how long they had been fading.

“I dunno, Willow has... unique taste.” Amity said with a shrug and slightly soured look. “We very rarely agree on things like that. I mean, she does not get Azura like at all, which just doesn’t make sense if I’m being honest, because I think...”

As Amity continued ranting, Hunter flipped through the pages and read the silly answers written in Willow’s bubbly handwriting, each ‘I’ dotted with a flower and the words twirling at the end as though they were carefully arranged vines. He treated her circled answers like a treasured artifact, admiring the little hearts and daisies she doodled in the corner of the pages. He also couldn’t help but want to take the silly quiz himself and see if their answers matched.

“...but I guess disagreeing can inspire debates. I mean, like the other day I was telling her how when I first met you I called you scrawny and that practically set her off because when she first met you she thought you were sooo cute, so obviously we don’t-.”

“She thought I was cute?” Hunter repeated, tuning back into Amity's rambling.

“Huh? Oh.” Amity’s hand sprang to her mouth, quickly realizing she should not have said that. “Uh maybe? Ya know, ha, it was so long ago, I might be misremembering. Actually, she might have been talking about a wet cat she saw on her way to school so actually-.”

“You just said you were talking about it yesterday.”

“Did I say that? You know, it was so long ago who can really remember what I said, we should-.”

“Amity, if you’re gonna make fun of me could you at least not use Willow? I don’t know why you’d think-.”

“I’m not making fun of you! I just, uh...” Amity insisted, quickly looking back at the staircase to make sure Willow wasn’t coming back yet. She changed her voice to a harsh whisper. “Ugh, okay listen, Willow would kill me if she knew I told you this but... do you remember before Halloween when I told you to change out of your costume?”

“Yeah?”

“She was actually really upset that I said that because she thought that you looked... handsome.”

Now THAT is a look

“Me?” Hunter asked as though there was someone else she could’ve been referring to.

DON’T listen to her.

“Yeah?” Amity replied, still unable to give a reason. “I mean, she was so mad at me for telling you to change, she threatened to summon a cactus to my bus seat before I sat down.” Amity laughed at the memory, knowing Willow was only a little serious about following through. “And she stared at the photo she took of you like the entire ride, like you were a magazine model or something.”

“She thought I looked... handsome? In my costume? Like the costume I’m wearing right now?”

“Shh! Yes, but you can’t tell her I told you,” said Amity, looking around paranoid. “I wouldn’t lie about that though, I promise.”

Hunter made his way into the living room, finding his reflection for the first time in a hall mirror. It was dusty but still he could see the difference from the last time he had seen his own face. There was a lot to process. Days ago he looked completely different and now it was though he had suddenly aged, he was tired and dirty and covered with scars.

“Do you think... she still thinks I look handsome in it?” He said, his hand tracing his newest scar.  “Ya know, with how... different I look?”

“Well,” Amity started, knowing there was more within the inquiry. “She also talked about how much she liked you, ya know? The way you talk, what you talk about-

“She never mentioned my voice being... annoying?”

“No, actually,” Amity said, realizing Willow was probably the only person she had never heard refer to it in such a way, even as a joke. “Which is saying something because she used to always say that having bad eyesight made her hearing better,” Amity recalled. “I don’t know if that’s true or not but Even when you wore those hideous shoes with the holes all over them she still thought you were so cool... for some reason.”

Handsome AND cool? It seemed too good to be true.

“Does she... talk about me a lot?”

“Ya know, if you really wanna know what Willow thinks about you then you should ask her,” said Amity softly, putting her hand on his shoulder reassuringly. “But don’t tell her you talked to me, otherwise she’ll get suspicious.”

“But has she said anything about... the way I look now?”

“Oh no, you’re not getting any more information from me!” said Amity dramatically, walking back to the kitchen table. “I’ve said too much already, if she ever found out that I said any of this I’d have more than a cactus to worry about.”

“But why wouldn’t she want me to know? Is she embarrassed?”

“Well I dunno, do you tell Willow you think she looks nice every time you think she looks nice?”

Hunter opened his mouth to offer a smug response before he realized that while he did in fact let Willow know she looked nice it was usually agreeing with someone. She would walk down to the basement to show off a new dress she had found while thrift shopping with Vee and wanted to show how nicely it complimented the cardigan Hunter had repaired for her and Hunter would be in awe of how she always managed to pick colors that brought out her eyes. He would think how lovely, how stunning, how utterly beautiful she looked but he never said these words.

Instead, Gus would usually deliver the compliment. He’d say “Wow, Willow you look great!” and then nudge Hunter in the ribs with his elbow as he’d raise an eyebrow and say “Doesn’t she Hunter?” Willow would look at him with anticipating eyes for his thoughts, but the sparkle that found her eyes with her expectations only increased the things to say, and Hunter would end up only being able to nod in agreement or mumble a simple “yes.”

Is that how he made Willow feel? How could he ever...?

“Fair point,” He cleared his throat and tried not to convey the journey his mind was on and hoping he seemed like he was totally normal about the question. “Thank you for your clarification, I shall keep the matter between us.”

“You’re not gonna act... weird about this are you?” Amity asked, fairly certain she already knew the answer.

“Me? Weird? No! W-w-why would I be weird about this?” Hunter sputtered nervously.

Oh, she definitely already knew the answer.

“Okay, well I hear her coming back so zip it,” ordered Amity. “If I wake up with a cactus in my sleeping bag, I’m taking you down with me, spaceman.”

Hunter wouldn't know how to bring it up even if he wanted to.

“Sorry it took so long,” said Willow, entering the room on a vine. “But they’re doing great, luckily the automatic water system I instilled has been working perfectly.”

“That’s great, Willow.” said Amity with a smile.

“Yeah that’s totally great!” agreed Hunter, his voice sounding panicked for no apparent reason. “Awesome! Cool! Yeah...”

“Yeah,” agreed Willow, confused by the room’s vibe. “But uh, we should probably get back to the others. I don’t want Camila to worry.”

“Oh yeah, good idea,” agreed Hunter.

“Oh, before I forget,” said Willow, pulling something off her wrist. “I found this yellow scrunchie in my room and I thought since your hair is longer again, you could use it to keep your hair out of your eyes.”

“Really?” he said, as she slipped the hair tie onto his wrist. “Thanks, Willow.”

“’Course,” she said with a smile. “It’s your color, after all. Plus we gotta make sure we can see that pretty face of yours.” She added with a wink.

“Haha yeah o-o-okay,” he said with a gulp. “I should uh, g-g-go check if the coast is clear.”

He ran ahead as Willow chucked to herself, clearly pleased with his reaction. She watched as he ran to the doorway and pulled his hair back into a ponytail and secured it with Willow’s scrunchie.

“Woah, did it just get hotter in here?” Willow whispered to Amity, a faint crimson gracing her cheeks as she watched fondly as he scanned the outside area, his pulled back hair making it easier for her to see his defined jawline. Before Amity could offer her comment on the change in temperature, Willow cut her off as she continued in a dreamy tone. “Never mind, I think it’s just Hunter. If ya know what I mean.” she added playfully, bumping Amity’s arm with her elbow.

“I really, reeeally don't,” groaned Amity as though she was in physical pain, having endured this talk for months in the human realm and now realizing that there was no end in sight. “You have got to stop saying things that to me I am begging you!” Amity pleaded.

“I’ll stop when he stops,” said Willow with a shrug, fanning herself with her hand for emphasis (half to upset Amity further and half because she was truly grateful she had found that scrunchie).

[angelofthepage]

Ink Demon - Evolution shown in Reverse? (Bendy DCTL Speculation and Character Design Theory)

Today we got a surprise drop of the cover for the Dreams Come to Life Graphic Novel, and there’s one thing all of us are thinking about: why is the BATDR ink demon design on the cover? When Dreams Come to Life originally came out, this design either didn’t exist period or wasn’t public yet, and its inclusion here instead of the BATIM ink demon leaves me with a lot of questions about the timeline of this universe and how the ink demon functions. So today I’m gonna crack open DCTL and see if I can puzzle this one out. Join me, won’t you? 

First, let’s look at what the book actually says in describing the monster’s appearance. Let’s jump over to the part where Buddy digs through Sammy’s sheet music and finds his doodles. This is how Buddy describes a drawing that, we presume, is the ink demon. 

DCTL Page 162, Physical Copy

“The ink glistened like the ink on the cover, but it was similarly dry. That’s not what chilled me to the bone though. Taking up the full right-hand page was what I could only describe as a drawing of a deformed Bendy. But it had very little in common with the cute cartoon character. Its limbs were long, almost praying mantis-like, with hands that had claws on them, not cute white gloves. Worse still was his face, half obscured with-what was it? Was it blood? The drawing was in black and white; it was hard to tell what everything was. All I could see was how much longer his devil’s horns now were, how his smile was filled with sharp teeth. His eyes completely hidden behind a dripping black ooze.” 

On page 204, while Buddy and Dot are exploring in the dark with a flashlight, they turn the flashlight above them and see this. “Something wet. Black. Dripping. A figure. With something sharp that glinted in the light. Like teeth.

And then the flashlight died in the shadows.”

Pages 274 and 275, we get this description. 

“Standing there was the creature from Sammy’s notebook. It wasn’t just some made-up doodle, it was real. And it was…

Bendy.

At least, some strange version of the cartoon character. The head was the most like him. Shaped in the same way, round with two points for horns. He had that same smile too. Big and white, with lines separating each tooth, only these teeth were real. They glistened with saliva. The rest? Well, the rest of his face was covered in ink, ink dripping from his head over where his eyes should be. Did that mean he was blind? I didn’t think there needed to be logic with such a creature. 

His body was long and lean, and he too was dripping ink. No, not just lean, but almost like a dripping skeleton. I could see the indentation beneath his rib cage. But he was still partly cartoon character, which was probably the most terrifying part about him.He still had that white bow tie and one white glove like the ones all the characters had. 

He stood there. A growl deep inside him like a revving engine.” 

And then skipping ahead a bit, after ripping Dave’s arm off, he transforms-

“The beast now seemed to be growing in size. His arms and legs lengthening, his head spreading, his teeth getting sharper.” 

I went back to page 147, the first encounter Buddy has with the monster in the infirmary, but it doesn’t give us any physical description of the monster. It talks about shadows on the walls and the lights dimming that sound like the ink demon’s aura, and the handprint he gets on the back of his shirt doesn’t have a description other than being black. There is an interesting thing with there being a yellow coloring to the room/light for the infirmary on page 143 that I need to look back at later, but that’s not gonna help me with this matter (that’s for another theory another day). 

When looking at these descriptions of the monster, it sounds like most of them line up with what we knew about the BATIM ink demon in his regular and beast form, save for one. Sammy’s notebook sketch is described with limbs that are long and “praying mantis like”, and Buddy also takes note that the creature has claws. Now, the BATIM ink demon does not have claws, he has one human-ish hand and one gloved cartoon hand, and while he does have some length to him, I’d argue this description fits better with our BATDR ink demon. I mean if you look at the way his limbs bend, they are kind of mantis-like. Granted, I could say similar things about Beast Bendy in that regard, but he’s not quite so gangly. The sharp teeth throw me off, as again, that’s a Beast Bendy trait, BATDR ink demon has very flat teeth by comparison, deadly, but not sharp.

I think you could absolutely make the argument that Sammy’s drawing from when he was succumbing to the ink could be of the BATDR ink demon, though it feels a bit flimsy, I don’t have anything super concrete here. But then again, this is Buddy’s interpretation of Sammy’s art, which isn’t 100% reliable given, Buddy is not a reliable narrator for a lot of the book. You could easily brush off inconsistencies as Buddy having a warped memory from how long he’s been trapped as a Boris. I’m not sure how I feel about that, I suppose it’s a strength and a weakness of these books, depending on how you look at it.

Having the BATDR ink demon on the cover art could easily mean some retconning, but like, I don’t think that’s what’s happening here. I think the lore has changed as to how the ink demon works, and I don’t think they had everything mapped out from the beginning. But I also feel like you can work the BATDR ink demon design into an earlier point in the timeline given what one of our big twists is in BATDR.

We hear from Wilson and the Keepers that they’ve been running experiments to trap the ink demon in a smaller, more vulnerable form. And this plotpoint has always bothered me since, how the hell did Wilson figure it out before Joey did? We know that Wilson was digging through Joey’s old stuff thanks to the BATDS teaser of his voice and his other audiologs, but what did Joey have that could have clued him in that this was a possibility? Records of Gent experiments perhaps? How can a man who doesn’t truly understand how the ink works build off of Joey and Gent’s work to get their desired result? Before Wilson was in the picture, the story felt like Joey had a monster locked up and then on the loose after the ink demon didn’t turn out to be his perfect Bendy. Given the room Buddy finds the ink demon in is filled with medical tools, I’ve often thought maybe they were using him for experiments, and it begs the question, what were those experiments? Were they trying to make him into a perfect Bendy? Were they testing the limits of the ink? It feels like it could be those things.

Here’s what I suspect is going on: ink demon didn’t come out as a perfect Bendy, so they’re trying to make him fit that mold in post. Thing is, Joey and Gent? They’re not treating him very well, and he’s giving them trouble, so they’re running other experiments in the background and using data from what they learned from him before applying that knowledge to him. Hence why we get Buddy Boris, Susie as Twisted Alice, etc, but no perfect Bendy yet. My thought process is, if the ink demon came out of the machine looking like Beast Bendy or his BATDR incarnation, then the ink demon we see in BATIM could be what happens after some experimenting. The BATIM ink demon is closer to how Bendy looks than any other version of the monster, it makes sense for him to be an in-between form in the evolution of this monster, we could’ve just been wrong about the order it goes in. 

The thing is, this means Joey, Tom, and Gent made significant progress in a short amount of time, if we got from the big scary sharp toothed monster to the one with a skeleton shape and one good glove over the course of one book. Sammy drinking the ink and falling under its influence seems to be contained over the course of this book.

Page 259 

“”What happened to me? You know what happened to me! You were there! You saw it”...”That day the ink found me. It wanted me. He wanted me. At first I was scared. At first I could feel it inside, the drops I’d swallowed by accident. By luck. I could feel them moving around inside me. I shouldn’t have been scared. I was foolish.””

This seems to be in reference to the pipes bursting in the supply closet and dowsing Sammy with ink, which was the start of his cravings. Buddy was there as a direct witness to this event. If Sammy drew this monster while under the influence of the ink, he’s changed forms within this book. I know the paragraph describing the monster Buddy actually saw starts off with a note about being like the drawing, but when you compare the descriptions, the monsters are different, especially with the way they describe teeth. It could easily be that the reason Buddy calls this out as the monster from Sammy’s drawing is because he sees it transform a little while later, even though it’s not an exact match in the moment of this encounter. 

So the ink demon’s form changing is possibly a recent development for him and his abilities within this book, and the fact that he goes back to being a more threatening monster not too far into the scene where Buddy and Dot have a boss fight with him makes me think that maybe the BATIM ink demon form didn’t stick as well as it could have at first. Like they could achieve it, but it took a long time to make him stay that way. It would also add to why he’s so hostile and why our little Bendy is scared of the Gent buildings. It may not just be trauma over what Wilson and the Keepers did, it may be tied to what happened to him with Joey, Tom, and Gent too.

Whatever the case may be, I have a lot of questions and curiosities about the upcoming graphic novel, and I look forward to seeing what comes next. Remember, whatever they decide to do, whatever happens, you’re still allowed to have your headcanons and noncanon things you play with. The world of Bendy getting expanded does not mean you’re not allowed to have fun with old or new ideas, nor does it give you clearance to be nasty to other fans if they choose to incorporate or ignore this entry when building their fan works. Normally I don’t feel the need to say that, most of us are pretty chill here in the fandom, but some recent interactions have made me feel like this is worth reiterating. Be kind to each other, we’re all fandom nerds bonding over a love of a fictional realm of demons and monsters, that’s really what matters most here. 

Here’s sending you all the good vibes! Tell me what you’d think, I’d love to hear your thoughts.

[blackrabbit111]

~Twst android au, prequel draft~

"You are the sole heir to the worlds top tec company that makes everything from military weapons to remotes. Raised alone by your grandfather, you've found yourself alone since his passing and are struggling to find someone to turn too.

On a whim you go looking for one of his crack pot inventions in one of his old factory's. Only to find more then you were looking for"

An au fic I wrote months ago but never shared cuz insecure, But I'm down so I say heck to it 👍

Feed back and critic is appreciated especially on grammar😅Not sure how much I'll keep or if I will even make more but I might as well share what I've already made

The sound of a switch echoed as the warehouse lights shot on in uniform order one by one until the massive hanger sized warehouse was lit up. 

The walls and roof were vast and the rows upon rows of shelves were endless, each filled with who knows what? All different types of machinery, a tec nerd might see this as some gold mine full of decades worth of technology going back nearly fifty years according to your newly bequeathed assistant. 

You hadn’t even changed clothes yet. You were still in these uncomfortable shoes, these stuffy black clothes that were far too warm to wear indoors, even your hair had been newly styled at your “guardians” request. 

You don’t even remember most of the day ... just stepping into the car. 

“Master Yuu?” Your assistant’s voice tore you from your mindlessness, you hadn’t even noticed they’d stopped. You’d just kept walking down the isle of discarded tec. 

“O-oh? Sorry Mira, and please don’t call me that” You asked, your voice quite as always. You hated having to force a smile but manners like other things had been drilled into as a child, so you had no choice. 

“Of course, sorry” She gave you a sympathetic smile, one of the few you’d had despite the circumstance. With your years forcing smiles you had grown to recognize when someone else was faking it too. 

Mira was genuine at least “Are you sure you're up to this? We can wait a few more days?” 

You appreciated the thought, but your hand was going numb from signing forms. The owners of such documents, the sources of most of those forced smiles, they knew better than to be honest about what they wanted. Or else risk upsetting you and with the power you now had none of them could afford such a thing, for some literally. 

You shook your head no “I’m fine, just tierd. This is the third warehouse we’ve checked after all”  

Might as well of been the one hundred with the size of these things?! Your college campus was half the size of the last one 

“Could you go check with the site manager and see if they had any luck tracking it down? I’d like to keep looking around on my own” 

She nodded, lingering a bit before turning back to leave the way you both came her footsteps faded to echo’s and suddenly you were alone. 

The shelves were daunting like this, shaded over from the different levels framed the discarded bot shells in a creepy way. Yet that wasn’t what was on your mind. 

Not much … had been on your mind lately …  

Everything had felt- fuzzy? 

You were never the greatest at showing your feelings, you’d certainly been teased enough because of it growing up. 

It was easier to just make friends. (literally) 

Rustling through your pocket you pulled out an old worn leather-bound book. Its pagers were flakier than the old coot that had left it for you. Sticky notes and faded pages stuck out and fell lose as you flipped back through its ancient pages. 

Sketches, notes and old diagrams were all etched into it. Most had been released, just one of his many sketch books you’d had the ‘joy’ of flipping through. 

But there was one page that had caught your interest, 

“Project Wonderland” God he sucked at naming things. 

Among the faded doodles these few seemed the oldest, added in safter the pages had already been filled? Even Mira didn’t know what it was, and she seemed to have known more about his company than he had. She knew him more than you had... 

“Project Wonderland, Log #037. 

So far, all prototypes for model “Heart” have remained lacking, subject Ace ________ ____hap ___ _______ ___ ___ ___  ___ ____  ___________________ ________Riddle remains____ __________ ,strict rules_ _________. Further_______ ______ ______” 

The rest was too faded. 

Most of the scribbles summed up that amount. Even the more salvageable ones left too many holes to piece together anything that made sense? 

You groaned trying to make sense of it all. This was just a way to get away from all the work you still had to do, Mira’s suggestion, if not you’d probably still be sat behind that oversized desk, in that oversized chair signing the endless rotation of papers brought by your newly acquired legal department.  

Attending the by hourly meetings on new bot colors, branding and all the other topics you didn’t understand. That didn’t stop the bombarding you with requests and asking your opinions … more demanding... 

Day in day out, 

Right up until- 

-Nya! Lunch time! - 

 You were again torn from your invasive thoughts, the pitchy voice crying out from your pocket. 

-Nya! Lunch time! - 

-Nya! Lunch time! - 

-Nya! Lunch time! - 

Pulling the device from your pocket its screeching only seemed to get louder- 

-Nya! Lunch time! - 

-Nya! Lunch time! - 

-Nya! Lunch time! - 

-Nya! Lunch time! - 

-Nya! Lunch time! - 

Small, grey with a bright blue screen. Its body, an old tomogachi toy you had as a kid, now turned into a travel sized version of an ai interface. Your first attempt, robots were child's play to you. At the age of ten you were making drones on par with your grandfathers. You could code before you could spell your own name, which made passing online tests a breeze. 

Ai was different, specifically intelligent ones. 

Nowadays it was rarer to see a machine that didn’t have some type of interface built in, even kid’s toys could remind the child to brush their teeth. But the ones used for androids, the ones running shop tills and driving buses.  

Those were harder for you. 

-Nya! Lunch time! - 

-Nya! Lunch time! - 

“ALRIGHT! Sheesh....” 

 Generated, Response, intelligence, Model #008. Or Grim for short, you were still working out the kinks. Somehow it had begun to prioritize meal notifications, despite it being near 6pm it kept on screaming for lunch until you clicked off its alarm. 

It’s been nearly 2 weeks since you’d last had a free moment to look at the code, which meant round the clock alerts at random. 

You let out an audible groan “Maybe this really is a waste of time? ….....” 

You stared at the old, tattered book in your hands. His name engraved in white tread across the wine-red material 

“......” 

“......” 

“......” 

How were you supposed to feel? You didn’t know? 

You never knew, so when you could you’d just avoid it. Avoid feeling much of anything? 

Hence the names the other kids called you.  

“Freak-droid”, “Robot”, “dumb as a bot” .... it wasn’t your fault; you just weren’t good at being like them. You eventually learned to pretend, to force a smile or a chuckle when needed. 

It was better anyway; the robots were better. 

More time to hone your skills, why make friends when you can build them? That’s what you told yourself. 

Alone at school, alone at home... 

Nothing had changed … those two weeks ago.. 

You were still eating alone,  

Still spending the evenings alone, 

Still walking through those empty halls alone.... 

He was your only family, yet you were lucky if you saw him twice in one week. Either locked in his lab or at the office. He was never there. He was just, not with you, not beside you. 

You’ve always been alone, so why- 

“......” 

Why now … did you feel so- 

“......” 

His name engraved in white tread across the wine-red material 

You looked back at the books cover, His name still engraved in white tread across the wine-red material... 

 He was gone now... 

You were now … alone... 

“......” 

“......” 

“......” 

It was quiet here.... 

“Project ...wonderland?” you mumbled out loud. You don’t know why, but you began giggling. 

This was so unlike you, wandering around aimlessly. After this crazy idea that- that this MYSTERIOUS project could somehow be for you! Could somehow help you explain how to do a job you didn’t want or how you were supposed to feel or how to make this STUPID AI tell you about something other than LUNCH!!! 

“......” 

“......�� 

“......” 

It was stupid of you … to think that... 

“......” 

“......” 

“......” 

You sniffled, having to dry your eyes before anything came out. You shook your head trying to think straight. 

It had been a good distraction, but it wasn’t important. You could get some intern to find it for you, you had those now apparently and they seemed despite. They nearly decked each other the first time you met after asking for a drink. 

Give extra credit to whichever one found it~ 

Perfect! You took another sharp inhale and turned to leave, ready to head back to the office. No doubt there would be a whole new stack of papers there to greet you when you arrive. 

Only to crash face first. 

Stumbling back, you looked up confused, there wasn’t anything behind you a moment ago- 

What you saw made you jump.  

He was tall, like REALLY tall. The dim light in of the war house casting his dark slender form in a shadow simply from looking down at you, his raven hair falling over his broad shoulders, his chiseled features pale as a ghost yet sharp and defined. 

He looked almost ethereal, if not for his eyes... 

They cut through the shadow that painted his form as if they glowed like screens in the dark. 

A piercing green that seemed to dance through the many shades, cut through by the black slit of his pupils. 

You were speechless, almost afraid to move in case he might pounce. A green grew on his face, as if your nerves amused him. 

“Are you okay?” 

His voice was deep, smooth, yet his tone was gentle? You were able to relax a little more but were still wary. Why was he here? Had he been following you?! 

“What do you want?” You ask bluntly, your voice is flat, yet he only seems to grin more at it letting out a small chuckle. 

“You were looking for something weren’t you? It’s a big facility, so I thought you could use some help” 

“How did you-?!” 

“Your assistant went back to speak the site manager; I noticed you weren’t with her, I’m sorry if I'm interrupting you” His appearance was still daunting, but he seemed genuine enough? You assumed he must work here. 

“O-oh? No, it’s alright, thank you. I was just heading back anyway” 

His head tilts “No luck then?” 

You shock your head “Something like that” Your forced smile grew back, deciding to be pleasant instead “I have better things to be doing is all, could you point me towards the exit?”   

A hand lifts to his chin as he lets out a hum in thought. 

“I believe I know a short cut? You took a rather unorthodox route here from what I could tell” He beamed again raising one hand to his chest while extending the other to guide the way, his sleek yet dark appearance, butler like movements plus his kind smile brought to mind a certain show you’d watched a few years ago? 

You thanked him, walking past him down the isles weaving left or right with his direction. 

He walked a few steps behind you simply directing you as a turn came up, otherwise you were both silent. 

The route was bizarre? Weaving in and out like an ally cat over a neighborhood's walls or roof tops, a fair comparison with his dark hair and and bright eye color, all in all you felt more lost than anything? 

Did he really know the way? His assuring nature just made him feel like he knew what he was talking about? 

“Sorry, but are you sure-?” Concerned, you turned to ask him about where he was taking you only to find more empty isles of shelves. This tall dark stranger had vanished, you looked around thinking you might have just gotten ahead of him? But he was nowhere to be seen... 

You cursed under your breath.... 

He had ditched you, you felt stupid for not too of seen this coming. After your little “Episode” you’d been so frustrated to get out you didn’t even think about it. At least he’d only gotten you lost, given your new net worth MUCH worse could have happened. 

You let out another sigh, you were really done with this. 

You began to dig around in your pocket for your phone, deciding to just call Mira and the staff to come find you. 

As you pulled it out your annoying- you're in need of updating Tamagotchi toy tumbled out with it. 

You groaned again, just one more thing gone wrong. 

-Nya! Lunch time! - 

It had slid under one of the shelving units, peering underneath you could just see it on the other side. The lights were out on that side, so it was a little hard to tell? 

After failing to swat at it you relented to having to try squeeze between the gaps of the two units, it was tight and the creaking noises it made as you nudged it made you nervous- 

-Nya! Lunch time! - 

-Nya! Lunch time! - 

But you knew it wouldn’t stop sending alerts if you didn’t get it... 

So, between the metal frames it was~! 

Squeezing your way through, you just managed to make it without knocking much off, you finally reach this annoying pest of a program. 

-Nya! Lunch time! - 

-Nya! Lunch time! - 

-Nya! Lu- 

And off it goes.... 

You’re about to plop your ‘pet’ back in your pocket when a light catches your eye? 

A low flash of red was glowing from the corner pile. 

This space was narrow, a small corner tucked away behind the shelves you hadn’t been able to see with the lack of lighting and old parts blocking your view from the isle. 

Walled in by the units and the warehouse walls, meaning you could just barely squeeze in. 

Stumbling a bit, you saw the source of the low red light. 

Two sleek metal crates, each taller yourself, were stacked against the wall tucked away between bits of cardboard. Each one looked huge black versions of those fancy box's phones come in, the red light shining from beneath its seal? 

Both metal caskets had gold engraving carved into their surfaces, some type of registration number and a symbol?  

“A1-164-♥ & D2-164-♥?” each read with a golden heart displayed above? 

It took a moment to click before you were again digging through your back pocket for the withered remains of a notebook, he’d left you. 

-Model Heart- 

“Project … wonderland?” you mumbled aloud now looking at these caskets like they were some mythical creatures that had hopped out from a children's story. 

Digging through the faded pages had already been difficult, now near impossible with only the glow of these things to see. You scanned it for anything that still counted as language that mentioned these things?  

Finally, a passage mostly filled with flawed calculations caught your eye 

“___ ________ ____ sleep mode while ins____, 

_____ _______________ _______urther funds ____ ______ coffins develop___” 

“____subject Silv____ ___ _______ ________ more time in sleep_____.  

_______ _____ bug reports t_ ___________ later.” 

The rest is more faded calculations. 

The texts were mostly useless, it was the sketches that caught your eye. 

Like most of this leather-bound pile of dust the sketches were rough, looking to be more concepts rather than any type of blueprints? They mentioned some type of access panel on the front, molded to match one of the seven symbols outlined in more detail earlier in the notes. 

It was easy to assume it was that gold heart etched into the metal caskets casing. 

You didn’t really think, more just acted. 

Reaching out, you laced your palm over the etching of a golden heart. 

Nothing happened, at first, but suddenly the gold coloring was painted over by that same crimson red from under the seal. The etching became filled in causing you to flinch and pull your hand back, as if it had sent some type of signal to its twin, the other caskets matching heart also lit up now an almost blinding light. 

“Palm scan complete~ 

Connection established” An obnoxiously cheery voice sang 

“Running security check, 

Running diagnostics check, 

Running personal check” It read off line after line, running upload bars through one after the other. Most of the more complicated one’s were lost on you and your limited knowledge of software; it was much easier for you to follow the hardware terminology meaning at the very least you could piece together it was running checks on some type of high moveability machine? 

“All preparation checks complete for model’s A1-164-♥ & D2-164-♥. 

How gracious~ 

Beginning reupload of data files of model’s A1-164-♥ & D2-164-♥” It had all loaded pretty quickly until now, each screen uploading in seconds, but now- 

“Loading- 

Loading- 

Loading- 

-ERROR- 

Unable to recover crucial data, beginning recovery measures- 

-ERROR- 

-ERROR- 

-ERROR-” Both screens began to flash with alerts, as if the system’s attempts to recover whatever it couldn’t was somehow causing the other files to corrupt. You were by no means an expert, but you knew if you didn’t act soon the whole system would be unsalvageable 

“-ERROR- 

-ERROR- 

-ERROR-” still panicked, you put your hand back to the screen swiping away as many of the alerts as you could to try and get at the recovery icon. 

“-ERROR- 

-ERROR-” 

The alerts were popping up faster than you could close them, with little other choice you did the only thing you could think of in this panicked moment 

“Cancel recovery measures! Proceed with upload as is!” You yelled hoping for some type of response, and just as you did the corrupting screens froze, the loading bar froze, the whole screen froze …. before another loading bar popped up. 

Slowly it filled, there was a brief pause before- 

“Upload complete~ 

All systems ready, deactivating sleep mode for models A1-164-♥ & D2-164-♥” 

A relived sigh escaped you, the screen shut off before the crimson glow faded as both seals jutted forward a white cloud of steam blowing out as the casket undid its releases. 

The doors slid open, tucking their lids around each of their left sides. 

The cloud died down finally letting you see inside, having the squint at first you thought at first you were mistaken. But now you were certain, two figures stood within. 

One with boyish features, red spikey hair and a heart shape painted over one eye. 

The other slightly taller, features sharper with flat raven hair and a spade shape painted to match their opposite. 

Wide eyed, you didn’t notice you held a breath once they stepped forward. You tried to speak, ask them questions like if they were okay or why they were in there? Only for it to come out as mumbles once their eyes both shot open in synch. That same pixelated crimson flashing over their eyes only to fade again replaced by their respective red and blue iris’s. 

The red one blinked, you held your breath again... 

The blue one held its head staggering a bit before both their sights landed on you. 

…..... 

…..... 

….... 

You all stood their starring for a moment; afraid moving might activate some attack mode or- 

“Excuse me but-” 

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH?!!?” 

[starlitangels]

High School Crush

Came up with this while writing a separate Vincent fic but this one was faster to write down. Welcome to my brain This was supposed to be a lot shorter than it ended up being 2.6k words

—

“Y’know, one of these days you’re gonna actually have to talk to him,” Melissa said. 

Erin shot her a look. “No I won’t,” she retorted.

“Erin—you’ve been drawing him from across the cafeteria since we were freshmen. It’s starting to get creepy.”

“He’s never noticed. The only one who has is you. And you only notice because you sit next to me.”

Melissa sighed and shook her head. “Just hand him one of your doodles and say he’s cute, for heaven sake!” she hissed.

“Mels, I don’t even know if he likes girls.”

“You’ll never know until you ask.”

“Maybe I don’t want to ask!”

“C’mon. This is Vincent. He seems sweet. Just... I don’t know. Shoot your shot. Because this—” Melissa grabbed the separate sketchbook full of Erin’s sketches of Vincent out from under Erin’s hands and waggled it in the air too fast to even see what was on the pages. “—is creepy.”

Erin snatched the sketchbook back and went back to drawing. “No way, Melissa,” she muttered. “I’m not brave enough for that.”

“Then I’ll do it for you. Pick your favorite drawing of him and tear it out. I’ll hand it to him and say you think he’s cute.”

“Absolutely not,” Erin snapped.

“You’re both shy. You could be the cute shy couple together.”

Erin didn’t reply immediately, but her pencil paused on its page for a moment. A blush started riding high on her cheeks, still tanned from the New Mexico summer sun. She went back to drawing. “No way would he like me back.”

Melissa sighed dramatically. “You’re hopeless.”

Erin quickly flicked through her book. Melissa was right, but she didn’t have to say it like that. The sketches at the beginning of the book were terrible but had been steadily improving over the last couple years. Still. Having so many of the same person in one book was definitely creepy. Mels was right about that. Erin just... didn’t know what else to do. She liked drawing the things and people she liked. And she’d had the biggest crush on Vincent since they’d started high school. He was tall with that black hair and deep tan. Those warm, dark brown eyes like melted chocolate.

She jolted herself out of her thoughts as the bell rang. “Dang it,” she muttered. “I didn’t get the chance to finish this one.” She’d missed the other half of his hair. She could probably fill it in freehand, but it wouldn’t look as good as it would if she was looking at him as a reference.

Melissa grabbed her wrist and pulled her to her feet. “Let’s get to class, you weirdo. You can finish your doodle lover boy later.”

Erin cast one last, quick glance over her shoulder at where Vincent was gathering his own things to head to class. He froze for just a second and met her eyes, as if sensing she was watching him.

She looked away quickly, her face getting hot, and ducked between two people to disappear into the crowd. Cradling her now-closed sketchbook protectively against her chest with her head bowed. Melissa caught up with her after a second. “What’s with you now?” she complained.

“He looked at me,” Erin said quietly.

“And?”

“I don’t know. I looked away.”

“Oh my G—you could have at least winked at him!”

Erin’s whole face flushed pink. “No! Are you crazy?” she hissed. “What if I freaked him out?”

“Erin, I’m going to keep saying this until you do something: you are hopeless.”

“I knooowww,” Erin complained. The two turned a corner and finished their walk to class, sitting down next to each other in History. Melissa pulled a tube of lipgloss out of her bag and applied it to her lower lip with the compact mirror in her other hand.

“How about this,” Melissa began, snapping the compact closed, “I pretend to make plans with other friends for lunch tomorrow, and you ask if you can sit with him?”

“Nooo...”

“I’m trying to help you here.”

“I know I just... I can’t.” Erin shook her head and pulled on one of her pigtail braids the way she often did when she was nervous.

“Erin, we’re graduating next year. You’re gonna regret it if you don’t at least try.”

“I know.”

“So. Are you gonna give him one of your drawings of him and tell him he’s cute?”

Erin opened her sketchbook again, leafing back through the pages. The more recent ones had a lot of Vincent making the same daydreaming face, looking off to the side with his face resting on his hand. Erin’s skill in drawing his face was markedly better than her skill in drawing hands, but even that was slowly improving across sketches.

She bit her lower lip. She still hadn’t been able to quite catch that twinkle in his eyes... Maybe it would be easier if she was closer to him...

“I’ll think about it,” she said to Melissa.

—

The apartment phone rang down the hall. Erin hopped off her desk chair and went to go get it. “Apartment two-oh-seven, this is Erin speaking.”

“Hey Erin,” her mom’s voice greeted.

“Hi Mom. What’s wrong?” she asked. “I know that voice.”

Her mom sighed. “Re... remember that boy you had a crush on in high school?”

Erin glanced at the calendar. It was February 15th... her mom wasn’t trying to set her up on a belated Valentine’s Day date, was she? “Vincent? Yeah... Why?”

Silence on the other end of the line.

“Mom?” Erin prompted.

“He went missing. In California. Two days ago.”

Erin’s heart dropped through the floor. “Oh my God,” she whispered. “What happened?”

“Word around town is he went to an amusement park in California and the roller coaster track separated. A bunch of people died but his body hasn’t been recovered so he’s been reported missing. According to the friends he went with, he was on it.”

Erin took a deep breath and released it as tears sprung to her eyes. Admittedly, she’d crushed on him from afar and barely knew him, but for him to be gone? “Oh my...” She blinked and let the tears fall. “I, uh, I’ll come home this weekend.”

“You sure, baby?”

“Yeah. I... I should.”

“Okay. See you this weekend, E.”

“See you soon, Momma.”

The next few days passed slower than molasses while Erin waited for Friday. The two-hour drive from her college town back to the hometown she grew up in lasted eternity.

The look on her mom’s face when she opened the door was enough to send Erin into tears again. They hugged for a while. “Sh, sh, sh,” her mom soothed. “I know it hurts.”

“If... if I’d done something in high school... maybe this wouldn’t have happened.” Erin had been spiraling all week, and it felt good to say it out loud.

“What do you mean?”

“If... if I’d actually asked him out in high school—” She swallowed thickly. “—back when we were seniors, maybe we could have been together. Maybe he wouldn’t have been there that day.”

“Oh baby. You don’t know that. We’ll never know what could have been. You can’t blame yourself.”

“I don’t—I just—I wish—” She shook her head. “I don’t even know what I’m saying.”

Her mom stroked her hair. “It’s okay, baby.” She reached around and picked something off the end table next to the couch they’d taken a seat on. “Wanna read his obituary? I cut it out for you.”

Erin nodded and took the thin sheet of newspaper from her mom’s hand. She read it quickly, holding away from the trajectory of her falling tears, wiping her eye with her other hand.

Once she reached the bottom where his surviving family was listed, a thought struck her. “There’s something I need to do,” she said. She got up and ran upstairs to her room. Digging through the boxes that were packed away, she found her old sketchbook. The one she’d been so embarrassed about that she hid it in the bottom of the box in hopes that her parents wouldn’t look through it and see hundreds of sketches of her high school crush.

Flipping through the pages, she tore out most of the worst ones from when she was a freshman, and a few of her favorites from when she was a senior. The ones she liked best she tucked into a folder. The rest she left in the book. She packed the folder in the backpack she’d brought from college, but kept the book in her hand.

She went back downstairs and pulled the phonebook out of one of the kitchen drawers and flipped through it, quickly jotting down the address she was looking for.

“I’ll be back soon, Mom,” she said.

“Where are you going?”

Erin opened and closed her mouth. “I’ll tell you when I get back. After the embarrassment has worn off,” she said.

She ran outside to her car, studied the address as she set her old sketchbook on the passenger seat, and turned over her engine.

The drive was short. Not even ten minutes. He’d been so close and she’d never done anything.

When she got to the address, she climbed out of the car, grabbed her book, and approached the door. Biting her lower lip and chewing on it with nerves, she rang the doorbell.

After a moment, the door opened.

“Hi,” Erin greeted. The woman had the same so-black-it-was-almost-blue hair and warm brown eyes as Vincent. “You don’t know me. I, uh, I went to high school with your son.” She cleared her throat. “I... I had the biggest crush on him. I’m so, so sorry for what happened to him.” She swallowed. “Here.” She held the sketchbook out. “He was more cared about than he knew. I... I wish I hadn’t been to shy to say anything.”

The woman took the sketchbook from Erin’s hands. Erin felt her face heating up again. She turned and went back to her car before Vincent’s mom could open the book.

Back at her own parents’ house, she picked one of her favorite sketches from the folder, cut it off the small page, and scribbled a short sentence on the back of it before tucking it into her wallet behind her ID.

—

Twenty-Three Years Later...

—

Erin laughed. “Oh man, remind me to take you to dinner more often,” she said to her manager.

Phillip chuckled. “Maybe I’ll do just that. But, tonight is to celebrate you. You got your art into a gallery in Dahlia. I know it’s a little far from home, but it’s not a bad spot.”

Erin looked around the restaurant. “No. No it’s n... not,” she said. Pausing as her eyes swept over someone.

“Hey. You okay?” Phillip asked quietly.

“Yeah. Yeah. Of course,” Erin replied. She leaned over and dug a small sketchbook and pencil out of her purse. She always kept one on her. She flipped it open to a blank page near the back and started to sketch. Quick work brought two people to life on the page. A young couple sitting across the restaurant floor directly across from her and her manager, rendering both of them in profile from her perspective.

She’d been doing this for so many years it was quick and easy to take down their likenesses while maintaining accuracy. She made sure to catch them both in a smile. And she finally got the twinkle in the eye right.

“E?” Phillip asked, watching her eyes dart back and forth between the couple and his client.

“Just—give me a second, Phillip,” she said. “I’m an artist. I’m allowed to be eccentric.”

He chuckled. “Alright, alright,” he said, picking up his fork.

After a few minutes, during which Phillip had nearly finished his meal and Erin’s had been allowed to grow cold, she signed and dated the page, took a quick picture of it on her phone, and tore it out of her book. She dug something out of her wallet and attached the two pieces of paper together with a paperclip. The kind that had probably been in the bottom of her purse for who knew how long and she’d known was there but had mostly forgotten about.

She got up from the table and crossed the floor.

“Excuse me,” she said to the couple. Both turned to look at her, and for a moment both their grey eyes flashed like a cat’s in the light. She smiled. “Hi. I’m Erin. And, I’m sorry, but—” She tilted a bit to mostly face the tall, slim , pale gentleman with the blue-black curls. “—you look just like the boy I had a crush on in high school back in New Mexico. I was always too shy to give one of these to him, and he passed away before I had the chance after we graduated and went to different colleges.” She held out the drawing and the paper clipped beneath it. “I hope you two are happy together.” She smiled at the young man’s partner and dipped her head.

The young man took the paper from her. His mouth dropped open. “Th—thank you. This is beautiful. Did... did you just barely do this?”

Erin nodded. “I did. Yes. You two have a good night now.” She turned and moved to go back to her own table.

“Pardon,” the young man said. She turned back. “What was his name?”

“Vincent.”

The young man smiled. He had a dazzling smile. “Well. Vincent was very lucky,” he said. Erin nodded agreement and went back to her table. She heard the young man hold the paper out to his partner. “Lovely, look at this. It’s incredible,” he said softly. Erin took up her seat and went back to her now-cold food and her conversation with Phillip.

—

I took the paper from Vincent and examined it. “Wow. She’s good,” I whispered. “That looks just like us.”

Vincent cast a glance across the restaurant floor at the woman. She was in her forties. Brown hair going a bit grey, laugh-lines forming at the corners of her eyes. He reached for the paper in my hands. Pulling the paper clip and whatever was behind it off. He sighed, a small smile forming on his face. “I’m glad she’s happy now,” he whispered.

He showed the other tiny square of paper to me. It looked just like him. A little skinnier and maybe three years younger, but it was definitely him. Except the eyes. They were dark. The drawing was old. Faded and smudged from spending who knew how many years somewhere. Scrunching his eyebrows, he flipped the paper over.

In messy handwriting, presumably the woman’s, was written: Never miss an opportunity.

I met his eyes. “You really knew her.” It wasn’t a question.

He nodded. “We went to high school together. I haven’t seen anyone from my human life in...” He shook his head. “Decades. I mean, it’s not like I can go back.”

I made a sad face. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I have you. And Will. And Sam.” He chuckled. “That’s all I need.” I handed the drawing back to him. “And I’m not planning on missing any of the opportunities I have—ever again.” He leaned across the table. I met him halfway and gave him a quick kiss.

—

Tag list: @zozo-01 @thegoldenlittlerose

[inkwell-and-dagger]

Ring-Bound Notebook

Hey! Yeah, uh- you! Before you proceed, this written work may contain:

blood, torture, prolonged captivity, multiple whumpers, whumper-turned-whumpee, amputation, multiple failed escape attempts, immortal whumpee, potential re-living trauma??, impalement, phrase repetition, slight rescue / recovery whump at the end, suicidal ideation / thoughts

Vanté Ramirez, Vesker Faithern and Fletcher O'Harris belong to my wonderful mutual, @er0s-1s-whump1ng / @paranoia-exe!! go check him out!!!!

—> —> —> —> —> —>

Looking down at the bloodied notebook he'd resented for so long stuffed into his bedside table, Rayan sighed. He swore to never re-read the notebook, reluctant to live out the years of captivity he went through, but.. he just couldn't handle it.

Vigorously snatching the notebook up, he flopped down onto his bed, drawing his knees up to his chest and wrapping bandaged arms around them. He despised how the damned thing felt so right in his hands; it fit in his grasp perfectly, cold and familiar.

He'd never admit it, but it took him a while to even start the first page, let alone open the notebook itself. He just stared at the cover, at the stickers — worn down with time, scratched or even peeling and ripped— caked in dried blood. His dried blood.

But eventually, to his own dismay, his finger clasped tighter around the notebook, and with strangely baited breath he flicked open to the first page. It seemed as though a nice little trip down memory lane was in order.

Zayn never exactly had a purpose for a notebook. Ring bound with multiple stickers he'd collected during their childhood stuck onto the cover, he just didn't know what to do with it. The useless thing was just.. laying around; plus, he had a diary of his own now. Esrana told him to give it to "the thing in the basement". And her reasoning behind giving it to Rayan? It was because both of them were useless. Great.

"Hey. I've got this for you. Es told me to hand it to you since I don't need it. It'll keep you occupied!" Rayan distinctly remembered Zayn telling him that before setting the notebook down in front of him, his soft Welsh accent ringing pleasantly in his ears.

Alas, Zayn handed it to Rayan during one of their visits, along with two pens. One's ink was in black, the other was in blue, since the former didn't know which colour he preferred. Looking back, it seemed to Rayan that he preferred blue, and the black pen he must've used to doodle and scribble in the margin of each page or wherever else he could fit it.

They promised to give Rayan new pens whenever they ran out and, as usual, he stuck to it; not once did Rayan see even a hint of the ink on either of the pens running dry.

The first few pages were worn and torn, some having been ripped out entirely. The ones that weren't were filled with notes in Zayn's unusually neat script about god knows what — from his time in school to his mother and Esrana, from simple reminders to full paragraphs of rambles. Rayan didn't have the heart to judge them, even now.

A couple pages after, and it was the start of Rayan's own ramblings. Oh, how Rayan dreaded this moment.

He set the notebook down in his lap, evergreen eyes skimming over the pages.

Date: ?

Time: ?

I don't know how this is meant to benefit me. Sure, the notebook's nice and all, I like it. I don't know. There's not much I can write in here, since my captivity isn't very special. I guess I can just I think nevermind. I'll just ramble about fuck all.

I hate this place. I can hardly sleep because I keep hearing footsteps from the floor above this fucking basement. I don't know how many of them there are. I know about the guy with the bat, and the one who keeps staring at me and who I've never really seen blinking yet, and the girl who's Zayn's sister. That's all. I swear there's more of them, though.

I can't be sure. But, at least Zayn gives me food and also gave me a blanket and some pillows so I can sleep. Sure, the ground isn't comfortable, but I can somewhat lay on the pillows, which is good enough. Totally not as if my back hurts already and this is just making it worse. Totally not. Why am I even mad at Zayn?

I'm gonna try and sleep. Emphasis on try. Everything hurts.

"God's sake.." Rayan mumbled hoarsely, pinching the bridge of his nose. He had to admit, that one wasn't all bad. But, he knew worse was to come.

He flicked over to the next page.

Date: ? sometime in October (Zayn told me)

Time: ?

There's more of them. It's- this is ridiculous. Fucking Ezra???

I can't believe he'd side with them. Hell, I don't know what to say anymore. Fuck this shit.

I also keep getting hurt by the bat guy; their names Foster, apparently. I don't wanna explain what they did with that stupid fucking bat of theirs, other than they hit me somewhere on the back and it really hurts because they screwed fucking nails into the bat. I hate this.

I don't even know what I did wrong.

Rayan scoffed. "'I don't even know what I did wrong', my ass.."

His attention turned to the next page. A little more blood was splattered across the paper, and there were obvious signs he'd been crying when he wrote this.

Date: ?

Time: ?

Everything fucking hurts. More and more of them keep coming down and torturing me and hurting me and I'm just sick of this shit. I can't get even a moment of fucking peace anymore. What did I do?

He was surprised how short this one was. He couldn't remember why he had cut it so short in the first place.

The next page.

Date:

Time:

Oh my god. Oh my god. Fuck. He- Holy shit.

I can't even fucking what the fuck. It hurts so bad. Fuck. Okay. I need to calm down.

Oh, no.

Rayan flicked to the next page with shaking hands.

Date:

Time:

Writing this whilst Zayn bandages me up. I'm so tired. So much has been going on.

Madir, he. He cut off my fucking leg. I had tried to escape by attacking Foster and getting out of the basement, and I was so fucking close when Madir got me (Madir's the one who keeps staring. I don't know what his problem is). Then.. I don't even wanna remember.

The torture's been getting worse. Esrana threw me out a window at one point. They've also found out that, despite me being immortal, I can somewhat die if they slit my throat. They keep doing it, and from what I understand they play some sort of game where they compete and the winner is the person who keeps me "dead" for the longest. So far, I think Ezra has.

I should've never started killing people. I've already served my time in prison, and now this? I don't deserve this I think I deserve it, though.

Next page, and this time Rayan had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from tearing up.

Date:

Time:

There's so much blood. The floor is stained with it, my restraints are stained with it, Hell, even my bed. Thankfully, Zayn let me out of the restraints so I can write.

I swear, this is the only thing I can rely on to not lose my fucking mind. The smell of blood and.. other stuff is intoxicating, I hate it. I hate this. I hate Esrana, and Foster, and Zayn, and Madir, and Ezra, and Fletcher— God, fucking Fletcher! We were friends! And now he just watches me waste away here?!

I've felt too sick to eat and sleep. I don't care anymore. I doubt people even remember me. I hope Maddie's okay. And Vee. And.. I don't know. Who do I have?

I'm gonna try and escape. I can't walk, given my leg from the thigh down is missing, but.. whatever. I'll manage.

Next page. This one seemed more recent.

Date:

Time:

It didn't work as well as the other times. There's a fucking- I don't what it is, but it's stuck in my other leg and practically keeping me impaled and pinned onto the floor. It hurts so bad.

I've given up trying to fight by now. I just want to make it stop. I wish I could die. I wish I never existed. I wish I never began killing people. I wish I could kill myself.

I deserve this.

Rayan's spare hand ran over his prosthetic leg, sighing. He never realized how much he himself had suffered. It all felt unreal. It's why he thought about it as if it were just a story, or a silly nightmare. Everything was silly at this point.

He flicked past the other pages, skimming through them, until one near the end of the notebook caught his eyes. Reading cautiously, he placed his chin on his hand and couldn't help but notice his handwriting was more neat. And no blood was splattered on the page.

Date: 26/10

Time: 3:26 PM

It's my birthday! I forgot how old I am. I'm in the hospital right now, I think. It's a long story, but I'm alone right now, save for Maddie sleeping and Vee idly talking to me. I've got plenty of time.

The Survivors got arrested. I escaped from the police - they scare me, okay? I thought they were gonna hurt me - and went to god-knows-where. I stayed homeless for a time, occasionally couch surfing or staying at a new friend's house. She's called Evelyn. She's nice.

Anyway. Maddie and Vee eventually found me, and took me home and then (after seeing how shitty I looked) took me to the hospital instead. It's been a funny couple of days, especially with me learning that these doctors don't want to hurt me and that the things being put into my body won't harm me, but.. at least I'm free. They're gonna get me a prosthetic soon.

I get to see Vesk again. I get to see Theo. And Maddie's fiance, Vivian. Maddie's reluctant to invite me to the wedding, since she knows I need time to recover, but I can tell she really does want to.

Something feels wrong, though. That I don't deserve to rest. I keep imagining restraints around me. I keep hearing them laugh. I keep.. nevermind. It's fine, though.

I don't think I'm gonna be sharing what's in this notebook. It's better to keep it a secret. I don't want people worrying about me more than they already are. Especially Maddie.

Maddie's waking up, I think. I'm home now. I think. I'm gonna be okay now. I think. I don't know. I hope so.

Rayan suddenly glanced up as he heard his bedroom door creak open, squinting up at Vanté. He was a mere silhouette against the absurdly bright hallway light. The notebook slammed shut.

"Hi, Vee." They both grinned.

"Hey," The demon responded, his deep voice rumbling pleasantly in Rayan's ears. "Mum's called you down three times, cause we're going out for dinner today. She said you can bring Tadhg if you want to, too. You coming?"

He chuckled, getting up with a soft groan and setting his notebook down, grabbing a jacket as he spoke. "Yeah, yeah, I'll be down in a sec. Is this—" he gestured to his outfit— "too flashy?"

"Of course not," Vanté waved off his question with a smile. "It's perfect."

"Oh, hush."

Both of them couldn't help but laugh. Vanté's diamond eyes glanced downwards, noticing the notebook. "What's that?"

"Huh-? Oh, that?" Rayan chuckled nervously, quickly shoving the book under his pillow. "Just a uh- a thing."

The demon didn't respond directly, but gave him a knowing smile. Rayan had an inkling the demon had experienced something similar to what he himself was feeling.

Before the silence could get more uncomfortable than it already was, the demon grabbed the immortal's hand and dragged him out of the room, earning a surprised laugh from the latter. "Come on, lazy ass. Don't bother getting platforms, it's a long walk.

"Awwhh, we're not driving there?"

"It's not that bad, kid."

"Hey- I'm not a kid!"

"You are to me!"

They both laughed. Maybe life wasn't that bad after all.

—> —> —> —> —> —>

[liminalpebble]

Eddie's Education: Chapter 2

Masterlist link

Chapter 2

Minors DNI (references to morbid things)

Eddie watched as Leia flitted between desks for the entire hour of tutoring, helping each student as they raised their hand, rarely even sitting down. He really did need some help with his trig homework but he didn't mind waiting.

She seemed busy and tired, and some of the students seemed demanding, bordering on downright rude. When he glanced around, realized there were no more hands up, and saw that he still had ten minutes, he timidly raised his hand. Leia came over quickly with a kind smile. Finally sitting, she pulling up the desk next to him.

“Hey Eddie. Thanks for your patience. What's up?”

“No problem! Uh...well...Trig sucks.”

She chuckled. “Could you be more specific?”

He slid his worksheet towards her. It was filled with chicken scratches and lines crossed out with a too-blunt pencil. Her plump cupid-bowed lips curled up and her full rosy cheeks lifted as she smiled, commenting, “Looks like you were pretty frustrated.”

Doll-face...he thought, intrusively, but aloud he only let out a snort of laughter. “Yeah. I guess...sorry.”

“That's alright. Can I erase some of this?”

Now that she was closer, he could smell some kind of perfume she was wearing; something spicy and sweet and floral all at once that distracted him. It made his mouth water.

“Oh...uh...yeah sure,” he said, rubbing his forehead and fidgeting.

He watched as she moved the eraser gently over the worksheet, carefully avoiding the doodles he had drawn in the margins. “There we go,” she said gently, “blank slate. Let's start from the beginning. Do you have the book? I need to check it quickly...jog my memory.”

He watched as she ran her finger over the text and whispered to herself, eyes scanning curiously, as her fingernail with its chipped dark polish danced over the page.

“Ah...got it okay...”

They worked together efficiently for the next few minutes. Eddie was on edge, bracing himself to be called an idiot or teased for not understanding. He kept saying “shit...sorry” whenever he took a wrong turn in the equations. After the fifth apology, she said, “Hey...please don't apologize. It's not easy and that's why we're here. I just had to read it to remember it myself. Take your time.”

Eddie raised his eyes to her and beamed. He'd never experienced time going quickly in school before, especially not while doing math. Much too soon, the alarm on her watch beeped out to signal 11pm.

As soon as the other students heard it they jumped out of their seats, running to the door as she tried to say, “Thank you, everyone. Nice to meet you and I'll see you next...” but she trailed off realizing everyone had left with a slam of the door. She jumped a little at the noise and then looked back to see that Eddie Munson was still sitting politely.

Their eyes met and they laughed. “Jesus...fucking assholes, right?” Eddie pronounced.

She gave a sad little grin, arms crossed in thought and leaned against her desk. Leia replied, “Nah. It's okay. I get it. It's late. They're frustrated. I don't take it personally.”

Eddie got up slowly, taking longer than necessary to repack his backpack. “Well yeah, but there's no reason to be a dick about it, especially when someone is taking the time to help you.”

“Thanks Eddie. That means a lot,” she said very sincerely, but hid her expression and the blush in her cheeks by turning and packing up her own stuff. Leia slid her laden backpack on, then a big tote bag, over her arms. Feeling like a ridiculous pack mule she said, “ready to go?” I just have to lock this room up since we're the last ones out.”

“Uh...yeah...yeah sure,” he said. Haphazardly throwing the rest of his stuff into his bag. “Here, let me at least take one thing. Where are you parked? I can help. I'm going in that direction anyway.”

“Uh,” she said uncomfortably, as he released the tote from her grasp. “I uh...I'm not parked. I don't have a car.”

“Oh...bus stop?”

“There isn't one.”

“Hold on, you're telling me you walk home, with all this shit?”

She looked down as she turned the key in the lock, glad to have an excuse to avert her face and hide her embarrassed expression. Leia mumbled, “Well, yeah. But I just live a few streets away. It's like ten...fifteen minutes, tops. Not a big deal.”

“Hauling fucking boulders like this it is. Let me drop you off.”

She sighed, thinking about it for a minute. Maybe she read to much true crime in addition to being an excessively anxious person anyway, but it occurred to her that this would be a good way to end up chopped up in some guy's backyard. A really cute guy, she considered, but still.

As if he read her morbid thoughts he said, “I guess assuring you that I'm not a serial killer won't make it any more reassuring, because that's exactly what one would say?”

She laughed loudly at that. “Exactly.” Finally she sighed, realizing that, though it might be stupid she was way too tired to care. “You know what, okay. Thank you for the offer. I guess it would be pretty stupid to kill someone helping you finally pass the math section.”

“Exactly!” he said, shrugging and giving a wide, silly grin.

----

Eddie felt his heart thumping away as they walked across the dark parking lot. He hated the idea of her walking through the eerie Hawkins night to get home each day. Darkness still spooked him out after everything he'd been through 15 years ago. Imagining Leia's little form trudging through the meager streetlights, weighed down and exhausted, probably a little scared, was intolerable to him. He unlocked her side first, opening the door for her. When he realized she had to hop a little to get into the seat he gave a little bark of laughter, then offered his hand to give her some leverage.

His tutor laughed right back as she settled in, fixing her skirt back down over her legs. “Yeah yeah, laugh it up, Munson. I know I'm a hobbit.”

This girl is gonna be the death of me. He thought, smiling.

----

She lived exactly where Eddie suspected; the shabby 1950's relic of apartment complexes near the campus, one of the few in Hawkins. Most of its residents were like her; young folks starting out, broke from college and scraping by in their studio apartments.

Eddie tapped his ringed fingers nervously on the steering wheel, the heavy bands making little drum hits on the worn out leather. He'd only have a minute or two in the car with her and he was screaming internally at himself to say something, but couldn't. He wanted to know more about her.

How old is she anyway? What a weird name. Why doesn't she have a car? How did she get a degree so fast? Where was she before Hawkins...had she ever lived here? No. I would definitely remember her if she lived here. Why would she come to this shit town? Did she read a lot of Tolkien? No one reads the Silmarillion first. People who read the Silmarillion have read everything else first. She wears boots and black nail polish...maybe she's secretly kinda metal. Does she like good music? Does she go to any shows on the weekends? Would she come to mine? Does she know how to play D and D. Oh god! What if she knows how to play D and D? Would she play with us? His brain prattled on.

Luckily, she took up the slack of the uncomfortable silence saying lightly, “Please don't judge where I live.”

“What? Oh no. Definitely can't...” He had to stop himself from saying sweetheart at the end of that sentence and was grateful he did. “...I mean...I live in the trailer park and I drive this piece of shit so, you know. I'm not exactly living the high life either.”

“Ah...well...why should that matter?”

“It doesn't to me, but I guess it matters to a lot of people around here. Smalltown, USA really loves to judge people who don't wear khakis and golf shirts and have families in the suburbs.”

She scoffed, “God...that would be a nightmare. I couldn't stand that kind of life.”

“Yeah,” he said, a smile painting itself over his round cheek, “yeah me neither.”

Leia glanced over at him, taking in his appearance. In contrast to all his tough-guy metal head trappings, he had a very sweet youthful face, especially when he smiled; round cheeks, full lips, and big brown puppy dog eyes. He was so expressive. He was hard not to look at. She shook it off, thinking, Down girl. I know it's been awhile but, Jesus, a guy that pretty must have already had half the town by now. Besides, you don't stand a chance. Even if you did, your his tutor. Don't be a creep.

With that she let out a sad little sigh of preemptive defeat, which then became a yawn. She immediately apologized. “Oh I'm sorry. I promise it's not you. I'm just exhausted.”

He chuckled. “Oh nah, don't worry about it, me too.”

They both realized with disappointment that they had arrived at her place. She expected him to just pull over and let her out, but he pulled into the lot, parking close to the door. After he parked he said, “wait” and scuttled to her door to help her out with her things.

“Oh...oh thanks, Eddie. You didn't have to do all that.”

He smiled. “Oh it's no problem at all. You're on my way. I can drop you off every Thursday if you'd like.” His heart thumped with the tension of willing her to say yes while he dug his hands into his pockets and stared at the asphalt. Finally, he pulled his eyes back up with an inquisitive expression.

“Wow. Are you sure? That'd be so nice. Thank you so much,” she said, tired eyes brightening with gratitude.

He clapped his hands, gave a little jump, and pointed finger guns at her. “No problem!”

Leia giggled, charmed by his reaction, while Eddie himself turned red. He watched, waving until she was safely inside her building before driving off. As he drove to the trailer park he smacked the steering wheel thinking, Jesus Christ, I 'm such a fucking weirdo. He kicked himself for all the little behaviors which he couldn't know that Leia found so charming. Don't get your hopes up, Munson, he warned himself as he laid sprawled out in his bed, deciding on Led Zeppelin as a good soundtrack to his rumination. His mind flipped through the details of her collected over the last hour; her pretty dark eyes peeking over the pile of books, her sweet voice encouraging him, the smell of her perfume, the way her skirt fluttered up her legs when she jumped into the van, her long black hair...”

At that thought, he reached to the back of his head, realizing he was still wearing her hair elastic. He pulled it out and carefully set it on his wrist with his leather cuffs and chains, grinning with satisfaction.

Good night, Leia, he thought. See you Thursday.

taglist: @sunflowerdaydreamer

[recycled-phantoms]

My Artist’s Year in Review

Unfortunately, I haven’t put out much art this year. So I’m using my favourite sketch pages from this year instead of pieces. I’ve had a lot of struggles w/ my mental health and personal real-life problems, so doing full pieces seemed a daunting task. But hopefully in this new year, I’ll be able to do more full pieces!

Pages (and artist’s notes) under the cut!

December 2022

This was a difficult time for me motivation-wise, and this was the only full page I made at that point, as most of my (now-lost) art was digital then! My favourite sketch here is the Grant Cohen in blue at the bottom.

2. January 2023

Another especially-difficult month for me. Again, the only full page I was able to fill, unfortunately. I really like the Norman in the top-left corner; he was so fun to draw!

3. February 2023

My bestie (@harmonyblossom19 btw, hey girl) had said that MatPat gave off Fred ScoobyDoo vibes, so I drew their fusion—dubbing him “FredPat” shortly thereafter. It was the best of February’s doodles, though I’m still not proud of it. This was around the time I moved here from my old blog!

4. March 2023

Do y’all remember The Orchard Mystery Series, that set of OCs I had a while ago? Well, here's the main two characters–Dick and Melanie! I wanted to try a washed background and layering the sketch on top of it—though I should have looked up some tutorials before taking on this task lmao

5. April 2023

I posted this one on my Instagram (@/biblically_accurate_art btw if you want to see my art)! I got back into TMA after finally getting over the hump with some depression. Ngl, absolutely love drawing s3 Jon.

6. May 2023

Ace but with a binder. Nothing else to say here, except that this was when I rediscovered Yugioh. These suckers ware going to get me through uni istg….

7. June 2023

More OCs! These guys are part of my Arthuriana-based universe, The Quest for the Atlas Dias / The Atlas Stone. Meet Sol, Lyra, and Finnigan!

8. July 2023

The only complete page I have for July lol. I’m especially proud of Ryou in the Spotify colours here!

9. August 2023

I drew this after coming home from the camping trip that inspired the DMAU! I picked my favourite (left) and least-favourite (right) outfits, and drew my blorbos in them. Yugi’s bag is still my favourite bag I own irl to this day.

10. September 2023

My favourite page out of this collection fr. I did fuck up Season 0 Yami/Maou’s hair, but the whole page is just a joy to look at. Tbh, I wish my current style worked with this type of page format.

11. October 2023

My birth month babeyyyyy! And to celebrate ya boy’s 18th, I decided to draw some really nice-looking Ryous, and a full-body Yugi! The Ryou doodles are my favourite here, purely for the way the hair looks.

12. November 2023

THIS! 👏 FUCKING! 👏 PIECE! 👏

I love every aspect of this piece to DEATH! The way Atem is looking at Yugi, their facial expressions, the clothes, the pins on Yugi’s shirt! This is definitely one of, if not the best piece here.

13. December 2023

This is all of the OCs I’ve stuck together for various universes. Lilith and Star are from a D&D-inspired universe called Spires of Heavenly Light and Shadow, and of course, Lyra and Sol are from TQFTAD. I’m so in love with the Star doodle here.

This was a train wreck of a year, but I think I pulled myself out of it pretty well. I hope your years have been just as great, if not better!

[imperatorium]

I know that this realistically didn’t/wouldn’t happen but whenever you mention sister having a crush on nihil from the get go/being obsessed with this random kid all I can think about is this cute idea with an 10-12 year old sister Imperator after being taken to the church making one of the little scrapbooks you only see in Disney movies except she doesn’t have any mementos or pictures of him so she just makes some really bad drawings of him and writes down what happened for her to meet him and his name so she doesn’t ever forget him

The tragedy of their first meeting is that he hadn't been named yet, so she couldn't even heart-doodle around that in the margins of her antibible!! But as soon as she figured out what name she was going to give him, she was absolutely filling up pages of notebooks with "Mrs. Emeritus Nihil" - spiritually, at least.

I think she did have at least some little diary in which she wrote about their first encounter, over and over again, so she wouldn't forget a single part of it. She wrote the song down, so she could sing it to herself in his absence. She spent all her free time writing him unsent letters and promises. It was how she kept him safe, at least in her heart and mind.

Also I'm imagining her ideal I ♥ NIHIL scrapbook looking like a binder full of Kpop photocards/collectibles and now when I'm done designing the set of Ghoul photocards I'm working on rn, I'm absolutely going to make that for myself. :3

[honking-up-a-storm]

6/23/23

Using this page to start off the day cuz idc that there's some doodles already on it. I think it's gonna be another slow day, 4 handicap spots are open, more open past the entrance, and the main lot is very empty. It could fill up who knows, but my hopes aren't very high. Funny how active online I was in 16'-17', maybe it's because that's when a lot of current websites came out that have a clear record. Ungh, I want to do something where is everyone? I guess I can get some reading done today. As long as my feet hold up I guess. I knew there would be slow days, but slow and standing in one spot is killing me. Oh! I bought the book so I can properly do this, it should be coming in 5-14 days, though the seller is in state so it should be quick enough. One car, not gonna touch it since it has the handicap adapter on it, I could drive it but I don't wanna adjust the settings. I think this writing is good for a least cracking a dent in this book. Had a very deep dream where things were okay again, makes no sense. If it's a premonition, I don't want it. Could try reaching out to her though. I feel bad and I miss her. Taking the easy way out isn't cute. There's totally shit going through my head right now that's too fast to write FFS. It's cuz I'm thinking about IT, which is annoying. I've exhausted all thoughts on the subject, made my conclusions, pretty much moved on less than a week later due to good timing on the new circles. I guess I'm frustrated with my exit. I had more time than I thought. I guess it's only natural to have wanted things to go your way. It just sucks cuz I wasn't attached to those thoughts and words anymore and the grief I have for them is still very potent no matter how much I try to hide and deny It. I find it odd too that I didn't feel sad after, I thought over the scenario so many times that I was sure I'd just fall apart, but I didn't and don't feel sorry for myself cuz I was a full-on bitch who deserved it. The frustration and grief are what linger. And I think grief is the appropriate word bc jesus christ I loved them, I loved all of them and I don't know why I was that fucking monstrous (Well therapy helped find the route of that but still, tldr: Family source, took that kinda shit talking as a normal way to vent and be done with it bc worse shit has gone around the house and yet everyone claims to love each other, should have never done it to my friends). And I'm frustrated because jesus christ even though I don't remember much of the exit I know I was just spewing bullshit and was pissed beyond hell that it was happening while I was not in a good spot mentally and physically. They probably think I threw myself into therapy because of the situation, but nah it's because for the first time in my life I let myself stand a little too close to the edge of the train platform and envisioned some things. But shit the only thing that stopped me was my own fear of death and that girl who got her leg torn off by the green line a few days prior. Anywho I'm glad I'm better, obviously not cured or perfect but much much better. My paranoia is gone, I'm less irritable, and life is just enjoyable again. It's kinda funny how I'm working a job where I was only in it for the money (financial issues strike again when the V work is said) but like I'm having like actual fun working, it's literally the perfect job for someone with ADHD, every day is different and I get to move a lot, interact with a lotta people. Also like I work with cars all day, I love driving. I'm in my pink era, I'm starting to love life again.

Notes:

A - Truman show/ Fleabagging, mirroring, mimicking, repeating, fixations, extremely picky with food, shutdown rather than lash out

M - Overstimulation, IFYKYK, sensory issues

N - Can drive, good balance

it feels like summer again

I am made up of so many things

Gift of the day from funny old dude regular: 3 Musketeers bar

"FTM" license plate is real

[grimreapest]

I used to like making art.

Or I must have, I'm pretty sure. I ended up in art school, after all. I was always the "art kid" in primary. I know now that it's a dangerous game, identifying your entire being with a single attribute. Because when you lose it, you feel like you're nothing anymore. You feel like you lost yourself.

The same happened to me with the "(academically) gited/smart kid" thing. I'm still destroying myself today just to keep up with that reputation. But at least I know it's a fairly common thing, it happens to people.

I'm a very introspective person. Most of my unsolved issues don't remain unsolved because I don't know they're there, I just don't know what to do about them. But losing art and being this distraught over it is something that I never saw coming.

I never heard people talking about it. There isn't any relatable content floating around the internet like there is for a billion of my other issues. My mental health must have deteriorated so quickly I lost the ability to make art before I could realise just how much it meant.

It was so long ago now. I don't remember enjoying art. All I know is I want to enjoy it. More than anything.

I see the world through an artist's eyes.

I was supposed to be an artist, I simply can't imagine otherwise. It's as if I was torn in half when I was created and an essential part of me is missing, a void that can never be filled. My mind is always full of ideas, begging to be turned into something more, something tangible...

But that's all they'll ever be. I'm like a person who wants nothing more than to be a singer but has the most terrible voice and a crippling fear of people's judgement.

I want to be an artist so bad. I see other people's beautiful art and my heart drops like it's flooding with lead, but shoots up to my throat to choke me regardless. I envy them. I want to yell at them for being luckier than me. I want to beat myself black and blue for not practising, for not forcing my way through the pain and clawing my way to where they get to be. I want to tear my lungs apart screaming about how unfair this is and how it isn't my fault, it's my brain, you couldn't do it either if you felt the same. And at the same time it's all my fault. I failed again. They deserve their success and I've done fuck all with my life. I'll never be what I so desperately crave.

And that's probably it I think, haha.

My one true pain. I'm worth nothing.

I know I've done good things. I know I've done impressive things. It doesn't matter. I need more external validation, but it also does little when I don't believe it, when I don't value myself. It just feels like a lie. A blatant, mocking, pitiful lie.

I want to be beautiful, but I'm just not. I want people too look at me and go wow, she's so pretty. I don't want to feel sick when I see myself in photos. But there's nothing I can do.

I want to be cool. I wish I had the energy and bravery and resources to try all the hobbies I think I might like. But I just don't. Nothing I can do.

I want to be an artist. I want to be hunched over my sketchbook when I wait for the bus, furiously drawing as if in a trance, instead of staring at my phone. When I find a new media obsession and fantasise about the characters day and night, I wish I could put them on a page to bring me joy when I'm down, to make them more real. I wish I could draw just for fun, maybe make little doodles for my friends to make them laugh, just because. I wish my first thought when I get inspired wasn't "there's no way I can do this justice". I wish I didn't feel physically in pain when I force myself to stare at my open sketchbook with pen in hand. I wish I didn't feel ashamed when I have to show people my art. I wish when my friend showed me her sketchbook, full of exactly the type of art I yearn to make, I could tell her it's beautiful without the sharp claws of envy splitting my ribcage in half.

But there is nothing I can do

I need this

And I can't have it

And it hurts so much

And no one else seems to quite feel the same.

Worse yet, it is well known many people find relief in art. They compensate for the pain, they express it, use it, channel it, find refuge from it. Sometimes their mental state inspires great artworks.

But I can never have that. I got shoved to the ground in a cold dark alley and robbed blind, robbed of any help, any outlet. It took my meaning. It took my craft. And left me to bleed out, knowing no help would ever come.

[jujutsubabe]

“This is so pathetic”

Synopsis: In which you and Megumi get really touch starved after not seeing each other for too long 😌

Word count: 1.8k

A/n: reposting this cause the last one got super blocked! It got no likes at all omg

————

You laid in Megumi’s bed squinting up at a textbook you were supposed to be taking notes on. As you stared all the words blurred together the longer you went over them and Itadori’s mumbling as he read aloud made you lose focus.

You sighed before reaching over the bed to tap his head. “Itadori can you please read in your head.”

Nobora clicked her tongue from across the room, “You’re almost an adult and you still can’t read in your head!?”

“I can’t help it, it helps me focus better.” He whined.

“Well if you could, could you just,” you pinched your fingers, “quiet down a little more, I’d love that.”

“If you could read in your head I’d love that.” Nobora grinned.

As Itadori pouted you moved the text book up and down, trying to see if a change in movement would do you better. You squinted, glared, flipped pages, whatever, no matter what the words continued to jumble.

You dropped the book and looked over to Megumi, he sat at his desk effortlessly writing away. It looked as though he did this daily, skimming his eyes over the pages and flipping within seconds. He had filled notes piled all over his desk in messy, but organized stacks.

You turned your head to the few sheets of notes you took, with margins full of doodles. You had to write so much more information.

If only you, Nobora and Itadori hadn’t slacked off all day watching movies, you would be at the same level as him. Or better yet, finished!

You popped some candy Itadori bought into your mouth. You had all been studying for hours, you figured it could be time for a bit of movement.

You hopped over Itadori’s legs to the door, “I’m gonna get a drink from the vending machine, anyone wanna come?”

Nobora shook her head, “I’m good, can you bring two sodas for me though?” She fluttered her eyelashes until you rolled your eyes and held your hand out. She squealed before placing some quarters in your palm. “You can keep the change!”

“Thanks.” With what she gave you, you’d have enough change leftover to throw one penny at someone's car. “Anyone else?”

Megumi stood from his chair while Itadori looked up from his game, “I'll go.” They said at once.

They turned to each other, Itadori’s face full of interest while Megumi’s was full of anything but that. You didn’t like being around people for a long period of time, but he really didn’t like it. Especially when they were in his space for this long.

He did tell them to “go somewhere” but like usual you all didn’t listen and procrastinated all day. Leaving a loud group of teens within Megumi’s quiet space was torture, you swore if you squinted you could see him twitching every time anyone talked.

You looked between the boys, Megumi probably needed an excuse to go outside. You hoped Itadori would somehow get that.

Itadori cocked his head, not reading the room. “Nice! It’ll be the three of us the—”

Before he could finish Megumi already slipped out and slid the door shut, leaving Itadori hanging with his mouth open. Nobora laughed at him.

———————

The two of you walked in silence, Megumi thinking and you in your own little world. The sounds of your footsteps echoed as you walked along the pavement.

He wondered what you were thinking about as you hummed and blew on your hands. Your sweater didn’t have any pockets so you kept pulling your sleeves over them.

“Are you cold?” Megumi asked.

You nodded but continued to rub your hands together, “But we might get caught if we hold hands.”

The two of you were dating. Very secretly, only being romantic whenever you had definite private places to kiss and hold hands. If it was in public it would be you giving a quick peck to his cheek or his hand slipping into yours.

You two wanted it to be a quiet relationship, at least until your friends and teacher happened to catch you guys, which you were both very careful to avoid. He figured as soon as the group found out it would be full of so much chatter and teasing, something you both weren’t too interested in dealing with at the moment.

He flicked his eyes around the building then held his hand out, “No ones here.”

“Are you sure…? What if Gojo comes out of nowhere?” You checked your surroundings as you whispered.

The two of you silently listened for any rustling or footsteps of some kind. He continued to glance at you while your eyebrows pushed together, when you were focused on something he thought you had the sweetest expressions.

Even you looking frustrated made him feel soft, like today when you struggled with that book. It was cute and he couldn’t help but look at you every so often, whenever someone looked back at him he would turn and start writing something random down. He had a few piles of paper with random crap all over it… he really hoped Nobora or Itadori didn’t check his notes while he was gone.

He looked down at the hands by your sides, at this point he didn’t care if the relationship got exposed to everyone.

“Please.” He mumbled.

You pulled on your ears, leaning forward to hear him again. “Huh, what’d you say?”

He squirmed the longer you looked at him. “I didn’t say anything...” he looked away the closer you got to his face.

“You didn’t? I thought I heard you say something.” You backed down, teetering on your toes.

“I…” his tongue tied as he tried to spit out what he wanted to say. It felt like he was confessing to you all over again. He internally groaned as he lost courage to say the words that he felt were too embarrassing to share. “This is so pathetic…”

You grinned, “What are you trying to say? Is it that bad?”

He shook his head, covering his mouth as he circled his brain about how to say his thoughts. Get it together! You two are dating. This shouldn’t be that hard to express, why was he struggling so bad with this?

He glanced down at your hands, flickering his eyes between your face and them. You were shivering and he wanted to do something nice, and he also kind of didn’t see you all day. So he didn’t understand why it was so embarrassing to admit it.

You followed his gaze down before twisting your hand around. “Are you trying to ask if you can hold my hand?”

He frowned, it was even more embarrassing for you to catch onto him...

“So that’s what it was?” You pulled his hand away from his mouth, pulling it up to your lips. “That’s not bad, it’s cute.”

You gave a quick peck to his knuckles, making him let out a flustered noise he tried to eat up with a cough. His brows knitted together as he tried his best to look away, he must have felt overwhelmed or something, your hands were cold but so much warmth spread through his arm.

You two hadn’t held hands in so long, it was like that first sip of drinking cold water on a hot day. You were refreshing, well needed company after a long day.

He intertwined your hands correctly, fingers wrapped up in each other, held inbetween the center of you both.

“I missed you.” He whispered.

You grinned as you squeezed his hand, “I missed you too.”

He let out a sigh, letting the corners of his mouth twitch into a smile as you two stared at each other. The crickets cooed and the wind wisped soundly against the grass, if you listened closer you could hear the whirring of cars on the main roads.

You turned your head closer to his, looking up to him as you cupped his cheek. Your eyes danced over every feature of his face as he looked down at you with his glossy, painted like eyes.

He leaned down, fluttering his pretty lashes shut as you pulled him in closer. Up until your lips touched, a light butterfly kiss that felt like a small cloud graced your face. You could feel him smiling the second your lips touched, his hands moved to your waist, pulling you in just a tad bit deeper.

Your lips were soft, pushing onto his with a gentle squish. He was a little too excited for this. But who could blame him? With the way you touched him it made him warm on the inside, you had him wrapped around your finger with every smooch.

You grazed his cheek with your hands pressing kisses all over his face. He felt himself go weak under your fingertips, every press of your lips against his face made his heart rise into his throat.

How did he get someone like you?

This felt right to him, pulling you away from friends for a night time kiss felt needed. You pulled away, tapping his cheeks while he blinked his eyes open.

His eyes glided over your features, the moon highlighting every lovely aspect of your face. He ran his thumb over your cheek, making space, about to give you one more kiss before he heard a gasp.

“Fushiguro you creep! What are you doing!?”

The two of you flipped around to see Nobora with Itadori trailing right behind her. Itadori’s face dropped open while Nobora’s face twisted into itself.

“Yeah Fushiguro, get it!” Itadori pumped his fist up and down.

You were blinking and taking in your surroundings, one second you were being romantic with your boyfriend, the next you were caught by your friends. You looked between the two wondering where they even came from.

“Why are you guys out here?”

“I didn’t tell you what sida to get and you two were taking a long time!” Nobora pinched your cheek until you apologized.

You rubbed the side of your face as you checked your pocket for change, you forgot she sent you out here. You were too caught up in this quiet boy’s eyes to realize people could have gotten suspicious if you didn’t hurry.

You sighed, nothing you could do now, Itadori was already embarrassing Megumi and you couldn’t help but giggle. As hectic as this situation was, at least now you two could show a tad more affection in public. Nothing more than holding hands, but this reaction from the two wasn’t bad.

You cocked your head, though sweet, this situation felt a little too calm… you looked around as you thought of something that was missing in this situation, like an almost full puzzle piece with one left to fill.

Itadori sighed, “I can’t believe Fushiguro started dating before us…”

“Right it’s not fair…” Nobora nodded solemnly.

Megumi scoffed as the two moped. Scolding them for ‘not minding their business’ as you laughed at them. It was so cute seeing your friends like this over your secret relationship, you couldn’t help but feel a tad bit happy your secret was released.

That was until you heard shuffling from around the corner. You all turned your heads until you heard a voice.

“Did I hear Megumi and dating in the same sentence?” Gojo slipped from the deep dark shadows below, a goofy smile wrapped around his cheeks.

Ah there it is, the missing piece.

[demonicheadcanons]

Can I get the brothers reacting to finding MCs sketchbook and it’s filled with drawings of the demon who picked it up? All of them are masterpieces and some are angsty or sad, others happy, some just them doing mundane things. When confronted, MC just says “Of course I draw you all the time, you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. You’re my muse.” Thank you in advance, if it’s too complicated you can skip.

AN: This cute prompt has been sitting in my inbox for far too long. Thanks for sending this in Nonny <3 I love this idea. I tried to keep each scenario short so I could get this done quickly, as you’ve waited long enough for it. Tried is the key word here ;u;

You’re maybe already dating the boys in these? Or very close? They’re not explicitly romantic but have some affection. I also didn’t make the MC say these exact words, or even anything at all in some of these prompts, but the general feeling is still there. I hope that’s alright!

Lucifer

You left the book behind when studying together, rushing off to meet up with Mammon after you realised you were late and would hear hell for it. He notices it sometime later, too busy relishing on even the short period of time he’d gotten to spend alone with you in relative peace.

He picks it up and, curious, with no worries that you might not really want him to look through it, he flips it open to the first page. He realises what it is right away, and continues to flip through the pages until he gets to a drawing of him. Its such a perfect represention of the moment that he can recall exactly when you must’ve drawn this.

You’d come into his room to have a break from all the noise in the rest of the house, and you had laid on your stomach on his bed and worked away at something as he went through paperwork at his desk. He’d wanted to ask you, at the time, what had you so focused, but he hadn’t wanted to ruin the sight.

He continues to flip through the pages, and frowns slightly for every drawing he sees of one of his brothers, but his lips twitch up every time there’s even a simple doodle of him. He counts, unconsciously, and realises you’ve drawn him more than anyone else. Pride swells in his chest, so very familiar and not at the same time.

He hears the tapping at his door and calls out, immediately, for you to come in. He knows that knock, after all, and you’re one of the few members of the house that he wouldn’t hear coming down the corridor. He leans against the front of his desk, holding your book open in front of him, not bothering to hide the fact that he’d looked through it.

The particular sketch he’s looking at is one where you must’ve been close - you’ve detailed in every long, delicate eyelash, his hair falling in front of his face and his lips slightly parted, only the faintest frown on his face as he focuses hard on his work. He smiles as he tips the book forward, watching as your eyes are drawn to it. To his surprise, you only smile, relieved, raising a hand to your chest.

“Thank goodness, I did leave it here after all.”

You walk over and hop up onto his desk, leaning towards him as you try to see which sketch he’s looking at. He slouches a little more to make you comfortable and shows the sketch.

“You’ve drawn me a lot,” he comments.

“Of course. You’re beautiful, how could I resist?”

He presses a kiss to your temple and rests his head against yours, smiling. He doesn’t often like people commenting on his appearance - he was confident enough about it, knew how he looked, but he didn’t need to hear about it all the time. Still, from you, it didn’t hurt. Especially not if you felt inspired enough by it to draw him.

.

[[Other brothers are under the read more]]

Mammon

Mammon had burst into your room and you weren’t there. Frustrated by your absence and unsure of when to expect you back, he decides to pick through your stuff. He wasn’t going to steal any of it - he’d been called out by Beel about that, before, and whilst he’d denied it at the time he knew it was true. He’d much rather steal something for you than from you.

The book is open on your desk to a page full of mindless doodles. It piques his curiosity, and he grabs it and sits down, kicking his feet up on top of your desk. It wasn’t like you were there to tell him not to, and you’d left without telling him where you were going so he was going to do whatever he wanted until you got back.

He flicks back to the start of the book, and honestly his first thoughts are about how you could easily sell these drawings for a lot of Grimm. Sketches of the Devildom, of flowers and creatures you couldn’t find in the human realm, of how the Devildom looked all lit up with the moon overhead, from the highest balcony in the RAD building. He’s in awe, mouth a faint ‘o’ shape as he continues to turn page by page.

The first drawing of him makes him freeze up. He was a model, Mammon knew he must be handsome. But he’d never felt it like he did now. In the drawing, he’s sitting on the floor, cushion in his lap as he plays some game on a controller. His expression is somewhere between frustrated and delighted, his hair fluffy and messy because he’d been running his hands through it.

He remembers - you’d been having trouble adapting to the Devildom so he stole- borrowed a console from Levi, but you were too tired to play. He played anyway, hoping that at least watching him would distract you enough, and to convince himself that he was in part doing it for him too and not to entertain some random human.

You walk in and he slams the book shut, but its too late - you’ve seen him holding it. You don’t seem mad about that, though, and instead glare at how he has his feet up on your desk. He adjusts quickly, fumbling as he tries to put on his confident act, walking over to you as he waves the sketchbook in the air.

“What’s this, then? You’ve been drawing me without asking me first?” he asks, teasing lilt falling flat in his voice. His face feels far too warm, as it often does when he’s around you.

“I couldn’t help it. You’re so pretty I just had to.” You shrug, nonchalant. You swipe the book from his hand and sit on your bed, tapping the space beside you. “How far in did you get?”

Mammon pouts as he goes to sit beside you. “Not far.” As he sits beside you, he grabs your sides and pulls you to lay down, holding the sketchbook open up in the air. He’s desperate for some attention right now, but he wanted to keep looking at your art. “Let’s look through the rest together.”

.

Leviathan

Levi was flustered. You’d been spending time in his room, and he loved your presence but it took him so long to get used to it each time that you stopped in to hang out with him. You’d brought the book you always had with you, and were working away on something, laying on your stomach on the floor with a Ruri-chan plushie in one arm.

He fumbles with his controller and sighs as he misses yet another jump in the game he was trying hard to distract himself with. Every time he glances over, he wants to ask what you’re doing, why you’re here with him when you could easily do your work elsewhere or with any of his brothers, if you were really happy to just sit in his presence like this. His voice dies in his throat and his face flushes when he catches sight of you, so he never does get to ask.

He’d messed up one too many times and was starting to get frustrated when he glanced over and realised you were looking at him, too. Heat floods into his face, and his frustrations die before he can even mumble out his signature ‘this is so unfair’. You smile, going back to your work before dropping your pencil. You wiggle around until you’re sitting, cross-legged, and hold out your sketchbook.

It was a drawing. You’d been drawing, and you’d been drawing him. Levi leans closer hesitantly, wanting to get a better look at it, trying not to think about how giddy and anxious your proud smile made him feel. He works up the courage to take the book out of your hands and looks over the drawing. It takes a long time before he can say anything, too busy focusing on all the little details - how his face is scrunched up from frustration and concentration, how his headphone cord is coiled around his fingers from when he’d been playing with it and hadn’t untangled it fully, how his head was tilted to stop his hair from fully falling in front of his eyes.

“You... its really good, but, I don’t... I’m not this handsome,” he mumbles, face bright red, and he flinches when you laugh.

“You are. More-so, actually, but its hard to capture from this distance.”

Levi can’t respond, just swallows. You sigh, something fond in it, and walk on your knees until you can fall against his side, cuddling up to the Ruri-chan plushie.

“Look through the other drawings. I only draw what I find beautiful. That’s why I drew you.”

His smile is faint, but its enough. He’s hearing your words, even if they’re hard to process for him. He relaxes and flips back to the front page, ready to look at the rest of your work with you.

.

Satan

Books were commonplace in his room. They were part of the furniture - quite literally, as they were piled up everywhere, even on top of his bed, although he’d made an effort to stop putting them there so long as you were spending time with him, so that you had somewhere comfortable to sit or lay whilst you were reading.

And yet, he always noticed when one was out of place, or when a new book had joined his collection without his knowing. Sometimes this happened because his brothers had found something interesting but weren’t willing to say aloud that it had reminded them of him, or that they bought it because he might enjoy it, so they’d simply popped into his room and added it to a stack. It was normal at this point.

That’s why he didn’t question it when there was a new book left on his bed, and when he didn’t hesitate to lay down and open it up, curious as to what story one of his brothers had left for him this time. Instead, he’s met with drawings. Amazing drawings of the Devildom, of his brothers... and of him.

There are notes, as well, few and far between, that allow him to place this as being your book. He knew that scrawl. He felt guilty to look through your sketchbook without your permission, but now that he’d already opened it, he was too curious to leave it be. He’d be honest about it later and deal with the consequences then, or joke about how you’d been drawing him without his permission so you were equal now.

The drawings were beautiful, more detailed that he’d seen for casual doodles left in a book without being shown to the subjects in them. He takes his time to look over each page carefully, each drawing filling his heart with something foreign, sweet and sticky like berry pie. He spends extra time focusing on each drawing of himself, wonders how and why you’d made him look so soft. It was hard for him to get portraits done as his presence could invoke anger in others and leave harsh and angry lines and brush strokes on the canvas, but clearly he didn’t have that same influence on you - instead, each drawing of him was more delicate than any of the others, like you’d put more effort in.

Satan returns it to you later, a smile on his face. He does apologise immediately, for looking at the drawings without your permission.

“Its alright. I’m just glad you found it for me.” You’re completely cheery, not bothered at all, and Satan sighs in relief.

“You’ve drawn me quite a lot,” he notes.

“Well obviously. I spend the most time with you,” you say, smiling when you catch the faint pout he covers up. That wasn’t what he had expected or wanted you to say, clearly. Nor was it all you had to say on the matter. “Also, you’re very beautiful. I wanted to try and capture that and keep a little for myself.”

He smiles now, content, and pats you on the head. “If you want me around, you only have to ask.”

.

Asmodeus

You’d been working away at something as he picked out an outfit and fixed his hair, and he’d been dying to ask but he just needed to adjust a few more strands first - you were going out to Majolish together and he wanted to look perfect. He always did, of course, but when the two of you were going out together he put in even more effort than usual.

When he finally finishes, he jumps up out of his chair and rushes over to you.

“How do I look?” he asks, beaming, full of confidence as always.

“Fabulous,” you say, reaching out to readjust a few strands of hair that had fallen out of place from his quick movements. He sits down on his bed beside you and pulls you up until you’re sitting beside him, hugging you around your waist.

“What were you doing whilst you were waiting? You looked so focused, it was adorable~” Asmo chirps, looking pointedly at the sketchbook. His eyes widen in genuine surprise. “Wait, is that me?”

You nod, lifting your sketchbook up so that the two of you could see it properly. You’d been drawing him, just little sketches as he flitted about the room doing this and that to get ready. You couldn’t have spent long on each one, and yet they captured him perfectly. He looked elegant in each, determined and beautiful.

You flicked back to the previous page before he could comment, and Asmo’s breath caught in his throat. This drawing was him, it was so brilliant an example of everything that he was. He was looking at you and smiling, and you’d captured the love and admiration in his eyes so perfectly he wondered if this was somehow a photograph.

Asmo tears up and hugs you tighter, burying his face against your neck. You can feel him smile wide against your skin. He stays like that for only a moment before his excitement bubbles up to the surface and he litters your cheek, nose, and forehead with feather-light kisses. He’d do anything for the one who saw him as he was.

.

Beelzebub

Beel had a pretty normal schedule for each day - he’d exercise, go to school, spend time with you and Belphie or his other brothers if they were around and alright with it, and of course, he’d eat quite a lot. You had a good idea of where he’d be throughout the day, and when you had the time for it, you’d accompany him so he wasn’t alone. Whether that meant sitting on the counter as he dug through the fridge, or laying on the sofa with your head in his lap and your feet in Belphie’s, you just liked to spend time with him.

And, a lot of the time, he noticed you had this little book with you. He’d caught you glancing at him many times, but didn’t think anything of it. He glanced at you a lot, too, so maybe it was only to be expected. He’d gotten used to the butterflies in his stomach when you two randomly linked eyes and you grinned, twirling your pencil around in your hand.

A lot of your time was spent together in relative silence, as well, and he was accustomed to hearing your pencil scratch against the paper. But he never asked what you were doing, because if you wanted to tell him you would. He trusted you to do that. And his trust paid off, when you were both watching a show together.

He notices early on that you're paying more attention to him than the screen, and when the episode finishes you tap him gently on the shoulder before stretching out your wrists. He looks to you, tilting his head in curiosity until you hold the book open in front of him.

It was a drawing of him, focused on the screen, odd lighting casting shadows against his form. He had something in his hand, some sort of food, but you’d put more attention into actually drawing him. So much attention that he was sure no matter how long he looked, there would always be something more to notice.

“Its me?” he asks, unsure lilt in his voice. He looks bashful, like he’s done something wrong. “Why?”

You stretch out your arms again, thinking, and finally answer, “Because you looked beautiful, and I wanted to draw you?”

It was neither easy nor hard to make Beel blush, and most of the time it just seemed to happen. You hadn’t caught onto the pattern yet, hadn’t been able to perfect it so that you could make it happen whenever you wanted. But you smile in silent victory now as his ears and cheeks flush a reddish pink, pairing nicely with his wide eyes.

His surprise gives way to a smile, and he leans over to wrap his arms around you, holding you close. All he can manage is a thank you, but with that you know how much he appreciates it, how much he appreciates you.

.

Belphegor

Belphie would often drag you off to the attic, and whilst he enjoyed the times where you would curl up in his arms and nap with him until you absolutely had to get up, he knew he couldn’t expect that of you constantly. You were still human, and you could only sleep so much before you had to get up to stretch or eat or just do something else to occupy your mind.

You’d built up a habit together, now, where if you wanted to get up you’d tap his arm twice and he’d reluctantly let you go. He’d stay awake if you left the room, just enough so that he’d be able to tell when you returned. If you didn’t, he’d have to go seek you out again by himself to drag you back with him and absolutely not just to make sure you were okay. If you did return, he’d go back to sleep and let you do what you wanted, opening his arms up if you tapped on them again to crawl back into his grip. It was peaceful, and though he never said it aloud, he loved it.

Often times, when he did wake up, you’d be sitting nearby in a little bundle of pillows and blankets that you’d made with a book and pencil in hand. You were quick to notice when he woke up, so Belphie could never just watch you to figure out what you were doing, which frustrated him to no end but at the same time it was nice to be known. Still, he was determined to figure it out.

His determination is unnecessary, because one day he wakes up and you’re looking straight at him, smiling contentedly. He woke up too fast, then, heart pounding as he tried to remember that expression. Did you admire him so much to look at him like that, even when he was just sleeping?

“You’re awake,” you say, voice light and cheery.

“And you were watching me sleep, as always,” Belphie scoffs, pulling the blanket up over his face to cover up his blush. “What’s new?”

You pout and stick out your tongue at him, and he lowers the blanket enough to return the gesture. It was hard to remember just how old he was when he acted like that.

“With good reason,” you tell him. He raises an eyebrow, and you smile and hold out your sketchbook. He takes it immediately, trying to act nonchalant as he opens it up and flicks through the pages. You barely catch how his eyes widen, how his breath catches and he slows down, taking in each drawing carefully.

“There are... a lot of drawings, of me sleeping,” Belphie says, swallowing, raising the book enough to try to cover his smile. Too late, you think. You’d caught him.

“You look cute like that. Plus, its the only time you sit still enough for me to draw you.”

“Or you’re just that obsessed with me. Weirdo.” He closes the book and hands it back to you, sitting up to stretch. He keeps his eyes on you, notices when you frown the tiniest bit. Was his teasing too much?

He sighs and slides out of bed, sitting in your pile beside you. He leans against you, like a cat looking for attention without wanting to admit it, and takes your hand in his, playing with your fingers.

“Thanks, MC.”

[sunlight-moonrise]

Sugar, Spice, and Everything (Not So) Nice (Reid Imagine)

Summary: Being a Barista and falling for a regular is as cliche as it gets. Having that customer become your new professor? Not so much. 

A/N: *Peeks head out* Hello everyone. I have come back from my unannounced hiatus to show off this baby. Major thanks to @definitelynotkatesblog​ and @clean-bands-dirty-stories​ for helping me put this fic together. This was written for the lovely @httpnxtt​ for the secret-fic-swap in the Discord (thanks @imagining-in-the-margins​.) I hope you all enjoy this smutty goodness. 

Category: Smut

Content Warnings: Face Slapping, Degradation, Slight Hair Pulling, Oral Sex (male receiving), Fingering, Spanking, Penetrative Sex, Unprotected Sex/Creampie

Word Count: 6.4K

Masterlist

Being a barista is pretty awesome. Sure, there were bitchy customers and super early mornings but it had it’s redeeming perks. We got free coffee, tea, and snacks during our shifts, which served the caffeine addict in me. I also learned how to make popular lattes, mochas, and frappes that I ended up making at home for myself one too many times. While there were the occasional assholes who couldn’t appear human before getting their hands on some caffeine, there were the regulars who made it worth it. Most of the regulars were so sweet, I appreciated a familiar face when they came in. Some.. more than others.

“He’s baaaaaaaaack,” my coworker Hazel whispered to me in a sing-song voice as she scribbled a customer’s name on a cup. I turned to see who she was talking about, but I already had an inkling about who it was.

My suspicions were correct. I turned to see one of our kindest regulars, my personal favorite customer, Dr. Spencer Reid. Is it weird to know the full name -including the honorific- of a customer? Possibly. But when I’d asked for his name to write on his cup the first time he came in, he accidentally gave me his full name. 

“Dr. Reid- uh, Spencer. Sorry, work habit.” He stuttered, avoiding my eyes after the mistake.

“No worries! What can I get started for you?”

As a Criminology major,  I learned to study the people who catch my attention before indulging them. Call it an old habit. 

Dr. Spencer Reid had earned his title and then some. He’d joined the FBI at only 22, having six degrees under his belt by the age of 27. He’d written several dissertations and co-wrote novels with his colleague, David Rossi. Someone with his reputation could be a pompous ass and have a leg to stand on, which is what made his humbled demeanor so much sweeter. He was also incredibly easy on the eyes, which was a nice little bow on top. 

Hazel liked to joke about how we’d make a cute couple but I know she only did it to watch me get flustered.  

I walked towards the counter to take his order, leaving Hazel with the task of refilling the caramel syrup. I’m always the one to help him since he very aptly pointed out that I’m the only one who makes his coffee just how he likes it.  

Some days, he’d let me surprise him with a random creation. I’d confirm if he wanted caffeine (he always did), iced or not, and any flavor requests. He’d take his drink, tip me handsomely and let me know his thoughts on the drink the next time he came in. So far, his favorite was the almond milk honey latte I’d concocted. It was nice to have a little bit of fun, especially with regulars who were as consistent as him.

“Hey Doc, what can I get ya’?” I asked.

“The usual, please,” he said with a smile. I nodded and set off to make his drink: a venti dark roast with a shit ton of sugar, a dash of nutmeg, and a tiny bit of cinnamon.

“Of course!” I quickly go to fill his order, making sure to put a complimentary treat in a bag for him. I know he had the ultimate sweet tooth so I try to sneak him a confection whenever I can. At first, he was a bit reluctant to take the free pastries, but nowadays he usually smiles when he sees the small bag. 

“Here ya’ go.” I handed him his steamy cup of caffeine along with the little treat, seeing him smile at the small pun I add to his cup, “Have a BREW-tiful day, Doctor!” I watched as his lips landed on the rim of the cup, taking a long sip of the hot coffee. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, the sight making my cheeks promptly flush. I cleared my throat before asking, “Is it good?”

“It’s always good when you make it,” he stated matter of factly, a small smile touching his lips. The heat in my cheeks rose again. “Will you be taking a course this summer?” he asked, taking another sip of his coffee.

“Yeah, I’m really looking forward to it. My first day is actually later today. I’m surprised the class section was open, to be honest.” Super surprised actually. I’d been trying to enroll in this class for the past couple of semesters but it was always full by the time I was able to even load the registration page.

“Well, I’ll wish you luck, but I’m sure you won’t need it.”

“How can you be so sure?” 

“I can just tell.” He stated calmly, like it was common knowledge. I raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to explain. Before he could respond, an insistent cough caught both of our attention. I peeked over Spencer’s shoulder to see a customer waiting for his order to be taken. I turned my attention back to the Doctor, an annoyed look painted on my face. He nodded, taking a hint from the impatient mouth breather behind him. 

“Thank you for the coffee. Enjoy the rest of your day. I hope that class goes well.”

��Bye, you too.” I waved, watching as he exited the door. I turned to the waiting customer, a bit miffed that he interrupted our conversation. But because I was at work, I plastered a fake smile on my face so that he wouldn’t see just how annoyed I was. “Welcome, how may I help you?”

●●●

After clocking out at 2:30 PM, I made a dash for the building where my class would be held. It’s not supposed to start for another half-hour, but I wanted to be sure to get there in time to choose a good seat and settle in before the rest of the class arrived.

Luckily room 301 was relatively empty so I was able to score a perfect seat by the window. I decided to kill some time by listening to some music and doodling randomly in my notebook. Some time had passed when I felt someone take the seat next to me. I turned to see a young man occupying the chair beside mine. He looked to be a frat boy based on the Greek letters he was sporting. Who wears a cap and hoodie in this weather? I really hope he didn’t expect to cheat off of me- although these types of guys always seem to do so.

I was about to return to my doodle when I felt a poke on my shoulder. I turned to give the offender my full attention, removing one of the earbuds from my ears. 

“Hey, I’m Tony,” frat boy said, with a wide smile adorning his face. I must admit, his boyish grin melted the slight annoyance I had begun to stir toward him. I returned his greeting and introduced myself as well. “I don’t mean to be a bother,” he continued, “but I like to have at least one buddy in each of my classes. In case we need help or miss an assignment or something.”

I nodded my head - a friend in a class was always useful when it came to studying and swapping notes. We chatted a bit more, learning about each other’s major and why we both decided to take a summer course. Tony is a double major and this course will satisfy the credits he needs for his psychology requirement. This is why you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover. 

It wasn’t until I heard the hush of the classroom that I realized the class was about to begin. I turned back to my notebook, preparing to jot down some important information despite it being the first day of class.

“Good morning class.” Wait. That voice... I didn’t even need to pick my head up to know who had spoken. “This is Criminal Psychology and I am your instructor, Doctor Spencer Reid. Unfortunately, Professor Monroe could not cover this course so I’ll be his permanent replacement. Now…”

I raised my head, watching as he continued to talk about what is to be expected in this course while a TA handed out the syllabus. He went on, able to capture the attention of everyone while speaking of the experiences he had with an array of criminals. His eyes scanned the room and for a brief moment I thought they would land on me, but they continued to take in the mass amount of students before him.

My concentration was broken by Tony passing me a copy of the syllabus. I scanned it over, making sure to highlight all the important dates. I didn’t want any exams or projects conflicting with my work schedule. I also made note of how the overall grade system is broken down. The whole thing seems pretty fair and everything was spaced out enough where I wouldn’t feel too overwhelmed with the workload.

“… and that pretty much wraps it up. Does anyone have any questions?” I tuned in just as he was pulling the first class to a close. No one raised their hands, so he dismissed us with a reminder to read the first chapter of the textbook and to check for any emails.

“So do you want to grab lunch?” Tony asked from beside me. I contemplated whether or not to go with him. He must have seen the hesitation in my face because he quickly added, “Not as a date or anything, I just wanted to grab a bite and I didn’t want to do it alone.”

“Sure,” I smiled, “Let me just ask the professor a quick question about his office hours and I’ll meet you at the food court.”

“Sweet, I’ll see you in a bit.” With that, Tony gathered his stuff and exited the back door. 

I focused my attention on the podium, seeing a gaggle of girls surrounding him asking redundant questions. From what I could hear, their questions could have been answered if they’d read the syllabus. I decided to give them the benefit of the doubt, they were probably more focused on him rather than what he was saying during class. I waited a few more minutes for them to finish up before I made my way to him.

“So do I call you Doctor or Professor now?” I laughed. 

“From you, I’d respond to either,” he replied warmly. The comment made me blush. If he looked into my eyes at that moment, he’d see more stars in them than the night sky. I bit my lip to stop the idiotic grin from spreading across my face. 

He’s your professor, get a hold of yourself.

“How can I help?” he asked, bringing me back to the original reason as to why I was standing in front of him without a cash register between us. 

I cleared my throat. “Um, I was wondering if it was possible to see you outside your normal office hours? I usually work the morning shifts and I don’t want to flood your emails with my questions.” I asked.

“Of course,” he said. “You can come to my office at whatever time works best for you. I know balancing a work and school schedule can be hard. Besides, I’m usually there handling paperwork anyway.” He gave a small shrug, pushing his hands in his pockets. 

“Thank you so much. I look forward to the rest of the semester Professor Reid.” I liked the way his newfound honorific rolled off my tongue. 

“Goodbye, Y/N.”

“Goodbye, Professor.” With that, I left and headed out to meet Tony. 

I was able to find him at the food court. We got some food and chatted more about our classes as well as life outside of school. He made it easy to be his friend, and it was nice having someone to talk to. He works as a waiter so we shared our customer service horror stories and tales of sneaking food at work. It was a nice distraction that took my mind off of Dr. Reid and the ongoing battle of calling him Doctor or Professor. As Tony rambled, my mind wandered about other things I’d like to call Spencer instead. 

●●●

In that short span of two weeks, we already had an exam, an oral presentation, and a report on the psychoanalysis of serial killers. Not one day had been wasted, but this is what to be expected from a summer course. The essay was due the day before. Now we had to wait for our grades which gave us a moment to take a breath.

I was worried that my paper was subpar; especially since I chose to write about Andrei Chikatilo, a serial killer from Ukraine. He wasn’t as popular as those in America, so I ended up spending hours on deep research to find substantial information about his crimes. It also didn’t help that some of the original reports weren’t in English. I had worked hard, and hoped Professor Reid would see that, even if my writing could sometimes be a little weak. I was worried about the grade as our research papers held the weight of 20% of our final mark. 

“Hello? Earth to Y/N! Anyone in there?” Hazel’s voice pierced through my worry bubble, her hand waving in front of my face. I shook my head, trying to focus on restocking the coffee beans.

“Sorry Haze, I’m thinking about this class.”

“Funny you say that; your favorite professor just walked in. Thought you might want to take his order.” She wagged her brows at me, making kissy faces as I hurried to the front register, trying my best to not let my eagerness be so glaringly obvious.

There he was, in his usual handsome glory, patiently waiting for me to take his order. He greeted me with a small smile that I happily returned.

“Hey Doc, what can I get you today?”

He debated for a moment before saying, “Surprise me.”

“Gotcha.” I already had an in my head; it’d been a while since he asked me to make him a random drink so I’d had plenty of time to plan. We got an early shipment of ingredients for our fall-themed drinks and I figured he would appreciate some pumpkin spice in his caffeine. “How are the papers coming along?” I asked casually as I rang him up.

“Pretty well. I’m almost done, so you’ll all receive your grades later today.” Wow, that was fast. I wondered if he stayed up reading all those papers to be done by today. Probably not, a TA must have helped him.

“I am a bit nervous about mine, especially since it’s worth a huge part of our final grade.” I really wanted to get an A in this course, but it was hard juggling everything in such a short amount of time.

“Don’t worry about it too much,” he reassured. “I haven’t properly finished yours yet but it looked great just from what I’ve seen thus far.” His words gave me a little reassurance.

“Thanks. I put a lot of effort into it. Let me grab your coffee now.” Spencer walked towards the pick-up station while I grabbed a venti cup for his drink. Just when I was about to make his order, I saw another familiar face come up to the register. “Tony, hey!” I shouted, placing the cup back down, “What can I get you?” 

This was the first time he’d been here, despite him saying for the past few days that he’d stop by for a visit, even with the promise of a cake pop if he did. It was nice to see another familiar face.

“Hey coffee girl, how you doin’ today?”

“Just peachy. My feet are killing me, though.” Just saying the words caused the ache on the soles of my feet to spike higher. I thanked my lucky stars I was almost done with this eight-hour shift.

“Give me the chance to sweep you off your feet, I promise you won’t regret it.” he offered boldly. It wasn’t the first time he’d joked about taking me out. I laughed, especially since he had a girlfriend. She met us for lunch one day and we became fast friends- she was an incredibly sweet and intelligent girl, polite and elegant as well. It is a wonder how his frat boy charm won her over but opposites attract, I guess.

“Shut up, Casanova. What are you gonna have?”

“I’ll have a grande iced matcha latte, please.” I should’ve known. He told me that he loves matcha flavored food and drinks the first time we grabbed lunch after class. He had complained that there was no good place to get one on campus. 

“Coming right up.” I quickly filled his order since it was faster to make compared to the pumpkin spiced latte. I handed him his bribe-cake pop, matcha flavor of course, while he waited for me to finish making his drink.

“By the way, we’re still studying at the library for the exam later tonight, right?” Tony asked.

“Yup, I’ll meet you at 8.”

“Copy that, see you later coffee girl.” He turned to leave while I turned to make Professor Reid’s order. I put extra whip cream and a bit more syrup to satiate his sweet tooth. I grabbed a fresh chocolate muffin from the display case and popped it into a bag for him as well, drawing yet another pun on the good doctors bag. “Thanks for being such a TEA-rrific professor!”

“Here ya’ go Doc,” I called out before placing his drink and muffin on the counter. I looked up to see him no longer smiling. “Is everything okay?”

Ignoring my question, he said, “I wasn’t aware you were so close to Mr. Montgomery.”

“Oh yeah, we study together once in a while.” I could have sworn I saw his frown deepen before his features became void of any emotions. He shifted his eyes downward, his hand moving rapidly to grab the cup.

“I should get going.”

“Oh, okay” Before I could say goodbye, he was already halfway out the door. 

That was weird. I looked at the counter and noticed that he left the cupcake behind. Maybe he was in a rush?

I shook my head. I needed to concentrate on making it through the last couple of hours of work. 

●●●

I made my way to the classroom, smiling at Tony as he pulled out my seat for me. Professor Reid walked in a few minutes later, his tall figure drawing all the attention to the center of the small stage. He let us know he already graded the papers and that they would be distributed by the TA before the end of class. I had a weird feeling in the pit of my stomach but decided to brush it off and pay attention in class. Despite my attempts to focus on his lecture, I found my mind wandering every so often anyway.

I couldn’t help but think he was less animated today. Usually, he taught with such passion that the class couldn’t take their eyes off him. But today, it felt as if we were all in a boring seminar with an ancient professor. Tony kept glancing at the clock, probably also wondering why time felt like it was going by so slowly. 

I couldn’t shake the unsettled feeling the entire class. It didn’t help matters that every time I would raise my hand to answer a question, he would call on another student. What the hell did I do? 

I decided to tune out the rest of the class. There is no point in being an actively engaged student if I wasn’t going to get treated like one. I’d just get the notes from Tony later.

Thirty minutes before the end of class, the TA handed out our essays while Professor Reid wrapped. 

“Some of you did very well, while a few others struggled with the assignment.” His eyes landed on mine as he said that. It was the first time he had glanced in my direction the whole class. He moved on to the other side of the room. My mind was probably just playing tricks on me. “If you have any questions you can see me at my office hours next week or send me an email. You are dismissed.”

The TA finally made his way over to me, handing my essay in a slight fold. I looked at the grade on top and almost dropped the paper. My heart sped up as I stared at the letter in bright red ink. No way, no way this could be my report. I looked at the right-hand corner and saw my name at the top. I read through the first page and saw they were indeed my words.

How the fuck was it possible that I got a D on this paper? I knew my writing wasn’t the strongest, but a D? 

“How you’d do?” Tony asked. For a moment I forgot I was in a room with other people.

I cleared my throat, trying to relive the lump so that he didn’t hear the croak in my voice. “Umm, not what I expected. I’m going to try to speak to him about it.” Tony was a smart kid, so I was sure he could see how tense I was. Luckily he didn’t question me any further and instead told me he’d text me later before leaving the classroom.

Fortunately, there were no other students in the classroom to slow me down this time. I walked right up to the podium, watching as Professor Reid placed some papers in his satchel. 

“Professor, I need to speak with you.”

“Not now, I’m busy,” he replied, not even bothering to glance in my direction. This can’t be real. The sweet, kind Doc could not be the man acting like a total asshole right now.

“I really need to discuss with you my paper,” I pressed, raising my voice a little louder in an attempt to get his attention. That was wishful thinking on my part since he continued to fiddle with his satchel.

“I said I’m busy,” he uttered once again, his voice void of any emotion. He was about to walk past me, ignoring my whole being. His blatant disregard made my cheeks burn, and not in the usual way they usually did when I was around him.

“Spencer,” I barked, “We need to talk. Now.” For a few moments, he stood in front of me, his back facing my direction.

I was about to speak again before I heard him say, “My office. Half an hour.” He exited, leaving me alone in an empty classroom. The only things keeping me company were the fuming feelings swirling inside me and the failed paper clutched at my fist. 

●●●

I knocked on his office door ten minutes earlier than he’d told me. The anger in my gut brewed hotter the longer I waited. As soon as I heard a “Come in,” I rushed through the door, slamming it behind me. He regarded me coolly, but didn’t comment on my actions. 

“What can I do for you Ms. (Y/L/N)?” I walked up to his large desk, not bothering to take a seat in the chair in front of me. I took a moment to calm myself down before replying.

“Well, you can start by explaining to me why I got such a low score on my paper.” I guess he didn’t like being the only one of us sitting down because he stood up and leaned against the wall behind him.

“It did not meet the requirements for a passing grade as outlined in the rubric. The information given was boring and the overall topic was uninteresting. It was tedious to get through,” he responded nonchalantly, like he was giving me a weather report.  

“You said that you enjoyed it so far.” I rebutted, placing my hands on the desk. I needed something to offer me stability so that I wasn’t visibly shaking.  

“I’d mistaken your work for another student’s. Maybe Mr. Montgomery,” he dryly clipped.

A bitter laugh escaped me as I put the puzzle together. Was- was he serious? Was this man acting like this because of Tony? The audacity! The laugh that bubbled from my lips must have unsettled him. He left his position from the wall in favor of standing in front of me.

“You want to know what I think?” I didn’t give him a chance to respond before continuing, “I think you’re jealous that I have another guy that isn’t you getting friendly with me at the shop and because of your inability to keep your---“

“That is enough,” he grounded out, shaking his head. But I didn’t stop talking.

“--private feelings away from your professional ones, you decided to give me a failing grade. Do you know how hard I worked in-” my voice rose up higher and higher until I was yelling.

“I said that’s enough,” he said again, louder this time. But I wasn’t done.

“-this class? This is my life, my fucking future on the line. I’ve told you how important this all is to me and you don’t even give a shit! You’re going to let your interpretation of my relationship with another student influence the way you do your job? And here I thought you were a decent man, Professor.” I hissed, “Do you even give a damn abo-”

“Enough,” he roared, slamming his hands on the desk and caging me against the wood. His breathing was matching the upbeat pace of my own. His quick movement and the sheer volume of his voice caught me off guard, effectively silencing me. 

“I don’t deserve to be punished over your envy,” I whispered, locking eyes with him in a steady gaze.

“You want to see a real punishment, darling?” he hissed, the heat of his words almost breaking my glare, his breath fanning along my face.

We stared at one another for a while, neither of us willing to be the first to back down. The tension between us kept rising and rising until the inevitable happened. I couldn’t be sure who made the first move but before I knew it, our lips collided with a mix of rage and desperation. My arms draped around his neck as he pressed me on to the desk. He placed his hands on the back of my thighs, lifting me up high enough until I was perched on the cool wooden surface.

Spencer’s lips were soft, a stark contrast to the harsh way he was kissing me. His tongue parted my lips, gliding over mine with fervor. I couldn’t help but moan as he rolled his hips into me. He continued his rough grind, keeping my legs open as we moved as close together as our bodies would allow. He overwhelmed my senses- the smell of him, the taste of him, the feel of him. Everything was making me absolutely feral for this man. 

I never expected the gentle Dr. Reid to be so fervent, so sensual. The kindhearted, sweet professor who regularly drank his weight in caffeine never gave me this impression. But then again, I’m sure he was shocked by my attitude as well. He knew me as the friendly, bubbly barista, now student, who enjoyed his class. He was about to meet a whole new side of me, just like I was going to for him.

Spencer pulled away from me, our mouths making an audible ‘pop’ sound from the sudden separation. I tried to catch my breath as he stared at me, our chests rising and falling together. If I were to move a bit closer to him, we would be touching once again.

He took a few steps back before motioning me to step in front of him. “I want you to get down on your knees. Now.” I wasn’t going to argue with him, mainly because I wanted the exact same thing he did. I kneeled down, keeping my eyes on his face.

“You going to shut me up, Professor?” I teased, feeling powerful, even though he was looming over me. He didn’t reply, just continued to look down on me with those honey colored eyes- full of lust and rage.

I watched as he slowly placed his hands on his slacks, undoing the belt and buttons. He drew down his pants and boxers at the same time, just low enough to reveal his impressive size. My mouth salivated at the sight of his bulge as he came closer to me.

“We’re going to put that smart mouth to better use. Open.” He said, gripping my face between his fingers, forcing me to follow his orders. I opened my mouth slightly, not giving him exactly what he wanted. Instead of ordering my mouth to open further like I expected, he placed his thumb inside. He pushed the digit deep, pressing it against my tongue. I moaned around the finger, softly nibbling at the skin. He continued to slide his finger within my mouth before dragging it out completely. He wiped the excess spit on my cheek before lightly smacking it. The small shock of pain sent a shiver down my spine.

“Open, and do it right this time.”

I obeyed, opening wide enough to accept him into my mouth. My lips were stretched almost uncomfortably in an attempt to fit around him. He was so hot and thick, I couldn’t help but hum at the taste of him on my tongue. The soft “fuck” that fell from his lips had me purring around him. I went to place my hands on the remaining portion that couldn’t fit, but he batted them away.

“You’re using only your mouth.” 

Fine, have it your way, Sir. 

I placed my hands behind me as I bobbed my head, hallowing my cheeks with every rise. His shallow thrusts encouraged me to suck harder. I slowly pulled away to run my tongue against the vein protruding on the underside of his cock. I was rewarded with a groan escaping his lips.

“I should have known that you would be so good at this, darling,” he said, his voice slightly hoarse as he tried to control his grunts.

I made sure to look in his eyes as I swirled my tongue around the head of his cock. The face he made was purely angelic. The muscles of his neck protruded more evidently and his breathing became more labored. I placed him back in my mouth, this time taking my time to go down on him.

“That’s right, Princess. Show me what a good girl you are for me.” He moaned as I felt his hands weave in my hair before he pushed my head down on to him, causing me to gag around him, tears pricking my eyes. He continued his thrusts into my mouth, barely allowing me a chance to breathe. My nose repeatedly touched the base of him as I swallowed around his hard length.

Spencer tightened his fingers in my hair and I knew he wasn’t going to last much longer.  The pace was brutal, but I enjoyed the rough treatment. Knowing that I was the one making him feel good was such a turn on. He buried himself deep in my throat after a few more thrusts to finish. I swallowed his release like the greedy brat that we both now knew I was.

He eventually pulled out, a satisfied sigh leaving his lips. I swiped the back off my hand across my mouth to clean off any leftover spit and cum.

“Get up,” he ordered, his voice hoarse.

I did so, rubbing the ache in my knees as I slowly rose. “I want you bent over the desk,” he continued.

“I want you to answer my previous question.” I quipped.

“You’re not in the position to be making commands,” he growled. He wrapped his fingers in my hair again, pulling just roughly enough so that I was looking up at his face. “If you want this to end well for you, I suggest bending over my desk before I stuff my cock in that bratty little mouth of yours again.”

He released me, eyes still on my face waiting for me to follow through on his order. I turned to his desk and did as he asked, bending over the wood until my chest laid flat against the surface. I waited as patiently as I could for him. It felt as if I was in this position for an eternity before he touched me. He pushed both my underwear and skirt down to my knees before placing his hands on my hips. I heard it before I felt it- the smack on my ass that caused me to yelp.

“Fuck, Spencer. What the—” I was cut off with another resounding smack.

“Did you really think that I wasn’t going to give you a real punishment, darling?” I took a deep breath as another shiver went down my spine. He had no business sounding so hot right now. Another smack, this time on my opposite cheek, had me biting down on my lip to stop myself from crying out.

“This” *SMACK* “Is” *SMACK* “What” *SMACK* “Happens” *SMACK* “To” *SMACK* “Bratty” *SMACK* “Little” *SMACK* “Girls” *SMACK*. A sob ripped from my chest as the last blow landed. My ass was on fire and surely littered with his hand prints.

“You’re lucky I’m in a good mood since you sucked me off so nicely, or I would have made that worse.”

Gee, thanks.

“You look like such a dirty slut like this.” I felt a finger enter me easily, the wetness gathered there making my entrance ready to take him. “So wet. Was it the spanking that got you like this, or your mouth around my cock?” A moan was my only reply as he added another finger, the two digits moving in a scissoring motion. 

“Are you gonna be my sweet girl, now?” He asked as I moved my hips along his fingers, desperately trying to seek some more relief for the fire burning between my thighs as his mouth littered marks along my thighs. I closed my eyes, focusing on the pleasure he was giving me as he curled his fingers, a slow moan falling from my lips. He pulled them out of me, wiping the slickness against my still burning ass. Fucking bastard. I wiggled my hips against him, hoping he would grant me a reprieve and put his fingers back inside me. Instead, he spanked my ass one more time- one quick, sharp blow against the bruised cheek.

Just when I was about to yell at him, he placed the head of his member against my entrance. He moved up and down my drenched entrance before penetrating me in one full thrust. I took a short breath in, trying to get used to feeling so full. He was stretching me out in the most amazing way.

Spencer waited until I was grinding against him before he pulled out and pushed back into me. “Look at you, such a wanton little bitch aren’t you?” He could call me whatever he wanted, as long as he didn’t stop fucking me.

He kept a steady pace, making sure to grind into me every time he slammed back in. The obscene sound of our skin smacking against one another’s and the moans escaping our throats was an erotic symphony that had my body heat raising the temperature in the room.

He hitched my leg on top of the desk, entering in an angle that made the pleasure so much better. I couldn’t stop the whines that kept escaping my mouth every time he pounded into me. His hand stayed upon my leg, holding me down and limiting my movements. His nails dug into the skin so harshly I was sure there would be bruises left in their wake.  

“Fuck, you feel so good wrapped around me,” he hissed under his breath. “Should have known you just needed to be fucked like the cheap whore you are.” He sped up, hips snapping at an almost punishing pace. The desk creaked every time he slammed into me. I hoped no one was nearby to hear what was going on. A whine left my throat when I felt his fingers rub against my clit. I was so close now.

“Should I stay inside you? Fill you up so you walk around campus carrying my child?” He growls, his pace increasing with each passing moment. “Knock you up so the whole campus knows what a whore you are for me?” He asks, earning a cry ripped from my throat. 

“Who’s fucking you?” he grunted. I don’t know how he expected me to form a coherent statement at this current moment. My eyes could barely stay open at this point. 

“Spencer, please.” He smacked the outside of my thigh.

“Try again, who’s fucking you?” 

“You are, Doctor.” Apparently, that was the wrong answer too, because it earned me another smack on my thigh. I had tears streaming down my face from the pleasurable pain he was giving me.

“You have one more chance or else I’m not letting you come. Now, who’s is fucking you?”

“Professor Reid!” I cried out.

“That’s right darling. Now come on my cock.” A harsh bite on my neck was the ultimate push that had me seeing stars. Spencer thrusted a few more times before fully sheathing himself within me.

He slumped over me, the feel of his breath against my neck causing me to shiver once more. We took a moment to have the high leave our body before he pulled out of me, a gasp leaving the both of us. Spencer was the first to break the silence between us.

“Would you like to have dinner with me?” he asked, his voice a bit shy. 

I giggled at his demeanor. A few moments ago, he was fucking me senseless and spanking me over his desk like a porno, and now he was asking me out to dinner. 

“Absolutely,” I smiled. “But I should probably cancel my study plans.” I quickly added. 

He led me to the faculty bathroom so I could freshen myself up. When I emerged, he was back to being the prim and proper professor I knew him to be. Just before we left his office, he leaned down and whispered, “By the way, you got an A.”