Early rays of light were just beginning to crawl through the gap in the curtains when the clock struck six am. The grinding sound of the alarm rang out, hard and piercing.

Jackson groaned as the bell bit into the dream he was contentedly enjoying, digging its claws in and tearing the soothing blanket of sleep to ribbons. Rolling over as much as he was inclined to, he felt about blindly in the dark to shut off the source of the offending noise.

He’d used to set the radio to wake him up. Music in the morning had been an unorthodox but effective way to rouse him from sleep without the pounding irritation of an alarm bell, but in the last year or two since the trigger for his condition had changed it was safe to say that was no longer an option.

He closed his eyes to rub the sleep from them, running a hand back through his unbrushed hair as an afterthought. A flick to turn on the bedside lamp at least gave him enough light to make out the dark frames of his glasses, which would give him the clarity he needed to stumble around the room to wash up and get dressed.

Contrary to what people would think to look at him, Jackson Jekyll was not a morning person. He’d used to be, but that was before what he liked to refer to as “the three Hs” rudely kicked their way into his life - homework, hormones and Holt Hyde. These days, he just wasn’t getting the sleep he needed.

Eventually, after waking up enough to get his clothes on in the right order - the sweater vest goes over the dress shirt, thank you - the clock was showing 7am and Jackson was awake enough to venture downstairs.

At least Holt didn’t leave red paint in my bed this time, he thought. There was bound to be something horrifying his other halfhadleft for him to find later, but Jackson didn’t have the leisure of dealing with that now.

The next hour passed amiably enough: his parents were considerate enough to tune the kitchen radio to a talk show, and though Jackson’s father set fire to the morning paper a couple of times it was hardly out of the ordinary morning routine. As soon as he’d eaten, talked and cleared up, Jackson grabbed his bag - homework all finished and neatly packed inside - and bade his parents have a good day before setting off.

It wasn’t a long journey to school from the neatly kept Jekyll residence, but morning classes at Monster High started at 9am sharp and there wasn’t a minotaur’s chance in a china shop that Jackson was going to be late.

Tumblr Monster Chibs! by *Zealothia

You can see from top to right, from from left to bottom:
ask-jackson-jekyll freaking out because he’s popular now,
ask-hoodude taking a bath in a washing machine,
askclawdeenwolf (me)
Toralei chasing a mouse toy (and both of her blogs, different mods)
My OC ripping the page (I had a blank space) and
Both Valentines blogs when they first met!


anonymous asked:

Your both horibal for each other so deuce brake up with cleo in the next movie I would love to see that

Spoiler alert.

We already broke up in a movie.

But then we got back together again. In that movie.

Because that’s how horrible we aren’t for each other.

- Cleo

D-d-d-demon?! No! Manny stole the anti-magic anon amulet. I-i-i-i-i———— Heh. Heheh…

Heheh. Heheheh. Heheheheheheheheh! This is awesome! Haha, I feel so LIBERATED! For once, a magic! anon that isn’t useless! Tee-freakin’-riffic, right here. So glad to not be a dumb, dorky normie idiot. Bring on the freakin’ questions, a'right?!

ask-gil-and-lagoona asked:

"I never knew you were ageless, Cleo" Lagoona said, her eyes widened. "But...if you're ageless then how come Nefara is older than you?"

Of course I’m ageless, true beauty is :)

And Nefera is older than me because she was born 4 years before me… so she died at an age 4 years higher.

 -  Cleo

Magic Anon/Open RP.

[Peter Pan: Muse is a child for 2 days (but I might lessen the time to be practical).]

Jackson!” Frankie wailed, clinging to the boy’s arm. They were sitting on chairs in the Headmistress’ office, Mr. Hack standing by. He was tapping his foot impatiently, waiting for the head of the school to appear.

“We’re gonna– we’re– we’re in trouble!” The stitched-together girl continued. “I di'nt mean to put the green stuff in the purple stuff!” She was referring to their second mishap of the year in Mad Science class. Frankie had been checking her iCoffin when she’d grabbed the wrong beaker to mix in with their chemicals, and suddenly she and her partner were a foot and a half shorter and Mr. Hack was ushering them out of class to Miss Bloodgood with an edge to his voice showing he was trying not to panic.

“S'okay, Frankie.” Jackson took her hand tightly. He was the most grown up of them both and his friend was scared, he had to be the adult here. “I’ll look after you.”

There was a clacking of heels, and in a moment Headmistress Bloodgood swept into the room in a flurry of her flowing purple coat. Jackson and Frankie listened as she and Mr. Hack conversed quietly for several minutes, occasionally throwing glances their way.

After a few minutes the Mad Science teacher was dismissed to go back to his class, and the headmistress towered over the pair with a stern gaze. “Now…” She began, and Frankie squeaked and hid her face in Jackson’s shoulder.

“…Why don’t I see if I can find someone to keep you company until your parents come to pick you up?” Her tone was gentler, kinder. She had had children of her own once and Headmistress Bloodgood had not forgotten how to deal with them.

The young pair nodded hesitantly, visibly less nervous now they knew they weren’t in trouble, but still confused beyond belief.

Yo, guess who’s gettin’ all savvy with these computer program thingies! The new IT classes are really payin’ off. Good thing the chairs there ain’t comfy enough to nap on, ah?

This means I get a better chance to show you cats an’ dolls the stuff I do. I can deal with bad quality pictures if I can string ‘em together all fancy like.