#it's fine though at least I know mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell

[star--anon]

started playing Minecraft again and forgot you can take fall damage from lava anyway guess who just died

[absolutepokemontrash]

Kid!MC/Teen!MC Needs someone to go to Parent Teacher Interviews for Them and Guess Who’s Available?

Masterlist

The brothers being bad babysitters/dad figures is something I love very much, I bet you all could already tell that considering the Fic/Headcanon series I have going on. I would just like you all to know that Asmo’s section is based on a true story. Anyhoo~ onto the Headcanons!

Why? Why Him? (Lucifer)

Is MC really dumb, or are they just a kid? No one knows.

Obviously MC asked Lucifer, the only competent one in the house, the most professional, hard-working, controlled-

MC got their things together and gave Lucifer the run down on their teacher(s) before Lucifer got too absorbed in extolling his own virtues in an intense internal monologue.

News flash Lucifer, this isn’t a Shakespeare play, you can’t have a dramatic monologue or soliloquy about how great you think you are

At the actual meeting, if MC is in there, no, MC is not actually in there. Lucifer will speak to the teacher as if MC isn’t there. As someone whose not a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down kind of person, Lucifer expects the teacher to behave the same and not spare MC’s feelings.

Feelings do not deserve to be spared if MC is being a nuisance. No fake-kid/little sibling of his gets to be the class idiot!

If MC’s doing very well academically, he expects to be pointed at projects or tests they’ve done and the grade on it. It really makes him proud to see MC doing well.

Even if they’re not the best academically, if they’re not failing and they’re doing well in other aspects of school, he’s proud.

If MC really struggles in a school environment and just hates it there but they’re still keeping their head above water, they get a head pat of approval.

On the drive home, if MC came with him to the parent teacher interviews and everything went well, he just happens to turn onto the street that has a Baskin Robin’s or something of that caliber.

If they didn’t go, he picks something up on the way back.

No fun treats if MC is being a disruptive little heathen in class, no kid under Lucifer’s care is going to be the class Mammon. Not on his watch.

MC was busily stuffed their face with the treats that were gifted to them. Lucifer had to hold himself back from rolling his eyes at the kid’s blatant disregard for basic table manners when it came to sweets.

“Is everything the teacher said true?” Lucifer asked, MC looked up at him with a smile.

“Yep!”

“Good, good.” Lucifer held out his hand and patted them on the head. “You’re doing well. Keep it up.”

“Geez,” MC mumbled as they continued to stuff their face. “Can you get anymore affectionate?”

“Don’t be sarcastic, MC. It’s uncouth.” Lucifer said sternly. “Besides, I’ll have you know that many people enjoy my headpats. I’m quite affectionate.”

“Really now? Name one person.”

Lucifer opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. He and MC stared each other down, one pair of eyes much more nervous than the other. Spoiler, MC was still calmly eating their treat as they maintained eye contact.

“…Cerberus.”

“If you’re reaching for Cerberus, you’ve already lost.”

…his pride was under attack. Right in front of his desert…

“You’re grounded.”

“Worth it.”

*Rides by on a Skateboard* School is for NERDS (Mammon)

Pff! Stupid human! He’s not goin’ to some lame parent teacher conference-

Wait! What’s with that face?! Ugh… fine. MC’s gone and forced his hand with those damn puppy dog eyes…

Mammon does not dress up for this event, he dresses like he would every day, maybe throw on some designer stuff to let all the parents and teachers know he’s hot shit.

If MC goes with him, he pulls up in his beloved car and takes up two parking spaces (pure evil.). Every parent present already hates him, but at least the other kids there are impressed with MC’s sweet ride. MC would have gained some street cred if Mammon hadn’t managed to trip up the stairs to the classroom in front of everyone.

He’ll act way to casual with the teacher, turning the parent chair backwards and sitting down so he can lean on the seat.

Mammon gets bored crazy quickly while the teacher lists and explains all the stuff the class is learning, so his eyes begin to wander to any and all displays in the classroom. Projects, annoying posters, class pet, anything is more interesting than this teacher’s explanation.

When MC finally becomes the main topic of the interview, he’s all ears. MC’s doing great in school academically? Ha! Nerd! Maybe giving MC a playful noogie and interrupting the whole interview wasn’t a good idea, but whatever.

If MC’s failing anything, or just isn’t that gifted when it comes to grades, it’s very much a “Aw man me too” from Mammon.

This teacher is speaking with the Great Mammon, the first demon in RAD’s history to fail three semesters in a row. If this teacher thinks bad grades will phase him, they’re dead wrong.

Grades don’t mean anythin’ about smarts anyway! I mean, look at him! He’s a fuckin’ genius but he can’t get through a history test without sobbing even though he LIVED THROUGH MOST OF IT.

MC gets treats no matter what’s up in class. Though, if MC didn’t go with him, he’s likely to forget and just order something for the two of them when he gets back home.

“Goddamn teachers and their rambling!” Mammon whined, grabbing a slice of pizza from the open box on his coffee table. “You owe me, MC! Ya really do!”

“Yeah yeah yeah.” MC said, they leaned over and rolled a pizza slice into a pizza-scroll then proceeded to eat it like a veggie roll. “How do you think I feel, listening to them every day? You know how long it takes to get to the actual class material?”

“Five years?”

“Ugh! Five years if I’m lucky! I swear, I know more about my teacher’s grievances with like… five of my classmates than I do about trigonometry, and guess which one’s on the test next week?”

Mammon winced in sympathy, then remembered he was supposed to be whining and went back to it. “School’s shit and a waste of money, ya should drop out as soon as you can and help me run my new business.”

“You mean your pyramid scheme?”

“It’s not a pyramid scheme, MC! It’s legit! It’s a multi-tiered marketing-”

“It’s a pyramid scheme.”

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA SOCIAL INTERACTION (Leviathan)

Everyone else must have been sick or something for MC to have asked Levi. He’d flat out refuse to go otherwise.

So, Levi couldn’t exactly go to the interview in his usual “I haven’t left my room or changed clothes in eight weeks” look. With the help of MC, he was able to find his military uniform at the back of his closet.

Asmo nearly fainted when he saw Levi in the uniform, not because “oooo, a man in uniform~”, it was because the outfit was so crumpled and wrinkled that it made it physically painful to look at. No time to iron and wash, the conference was in an hour!

Levi (and MC if they went with) rolled up to the school in a less than impressive ride, but one look at the uniform and all the other people present went “yep, time to be respectful (tm)”

For the first time in his life Levi was more intimidating than Lucifer! And he wasn’t even trying!

When the teacher starts explaining the course material, Levi spaces off in horror as he realizes he remembers literally nothing from school (AND HE’S STILL IN SCHOOL!) all that’s running through his head is “A squared + B squared = C squared” and “the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell”.

The actual interview was the least interesting part of the trip, the real stuff happened when Levi passed by some art on display in the hallway and something caught his eye-

Those colours… that hair… that adorable smile..!

IT WAS HER! LEVI’S PRECIOUS RURI-CHAN IN ALL HER GLORY!

Levi immediately started fawning over the art class fanart and by sheer coincidence, one of the kids walking through the hallway happened to notice.

The kid asked MC if their… parent and or guardian liked anime. MC responded with “obviously.” Levi then asked the kid if they drew his adorable Ruri-chan. The kid said no, and that they drew the My Hero Academia fanart a few rows down.

Levi was absolutely floored that there were two anime fans in one class, then his entire world shattered when MC explained there was more anime art inside the art room and other classrooms.

H-hang on… did that mean that… a lot of people here… liked anime..?

Levi needed a while to process. No snacks on the way home…

Levi and MC were sat in the back of their Uber, Levi, the Avatar of Envy himself, was having his entire sense of reality warped. S-so much anime fanart… in a school of all places..! What did this mean for the future of anime?!

“Levi. Stop.” MC sighed. “If this were an anime, the camera angle would be doing that thing where it’s right on the bridge of your nose and dramatic music plays in the background.”

“S-so many kids in your class like a-anime huh..?” Levi stuttered, weakly trying to smile. “Must be nice..?”

“Oh, that’s just my class. The other classes and grades have their fans too.”

“Oh… really?”

“Levi,” MC stopped looking out the window and looked at the otaku that was having a full scale silent mental breakdown. “Anime isn’t even a niche interest anymore. It’s a pretty casual thing to watch now. At least a third of my class watches- Levi?”

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGHHHHH! ANIME! A THIRD OF THE CLASS?! ANIME… HIS PRECIOUS ANIME… WAS BECOMING A NORMIE INTEREST! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-

“Levi?” MC waved their hand in front of their spaced out demon’s face. “Leviiiii? Okay he’s dead.”

The Know it All (Satan)

Ah, a smart choice, MC. Satan would be glad to help further their education. He’ll do everything in his power to make sure that the human’s brain is fed all that sweet sweet knowledge.

Satan can’t dress himself normally, MC had to coax him into a suit jacket, but he still only wore one sleeve.

MC was coming along to the interviews whether they wanted to or not, it’s important to hear what they need to improve on from the teacher themselves after all.

The two arrived pretty early, so Satan asked MC for a tour of the school. It was pretty tame until they reached the library. Satan was horrified at the state of some of the books…

Their spines lined with duct tape… pages missing and torn… someone apparently used a taco as a book mark…

The first thing Satan does when it’s time for his interview is demand the teacher take better care of the library, even though they’re not the librarian. MC tries to explain this, but Satan is too distraught to listen to reason.

He enjoyed hearing about the course material, but he made it known if MC thinks the assignments are too easy that they need to be given more challenging work. THEIR BRAIN NEEDS TO BE STIMULATED DAMN IT.

It was up to MC to either agree with Satan and nod to the teacher, or make frantic eye contact with them to try and communicate “NO DON’T PLEASE”.

Similar to (ugh) Lucifer, as long as MC is doing their best, he’s happy for them.

…but if they are in any way in the running for valedictorian he is HELPING THEM WIN.

He decided to stop at a cafe or bookstore to let MC pick out a “congrats on surviving your pitiful school” present after the interviews.

MC gleefully perused the shelves of the bookstore, there were so many books too look at…

“I’ll buy you as many books as you’d like, MC, just,” Satan shuddered slightly. “Promise me you won’t treat them like those poor library books…”

MC put their hand over their heart. “I swear on the duct taped book spines that I will never treat a book like that.”

“Good… good…” Satan breathed a sigh of relief and went back to looking at his book about cats.

“Are you… reading a Warrior Cats book..?” MC asked tentatively.

“Yes, why?”

“Satan, put that back.”

“I Will Seduce the Teacher For the Sake of Your Grades, Don’t Worry.” (Asmodeus)

Oh MC dear! He’d be delighted to go! Just let him get ready~

Asmo may not be the best choice, but he was at least going to be the best dressed person at that conference. (And MC just had to come too so all the other parents could be jealous of how well coordinated their outfits are)

He teased MC a little by saying he was going to flirt with their teacher to make sure they passed the class, but he was just kidding! …but he made sure to ask if their teacher was cute, he needed to know!

While waiting for his turn, Asmo flirts with some of the single parents, if he doesn’t see a wedding ring, they’re fair game.

Once his time slot arrived, MC realized that Asmo is one of those “my child has done and will do nothing wrong ever” types. This may have ended up working in MC’s favour if they were a class nuisance.

If MC is doing very well in sports, clubs, grades, anything, Asmo is fawning over them and gushing to the teacher about how great, smart and adorable they are.

Asmo surprisingly does not exactly flirt with the teacher, he was just teasing MC after all. But um… if MC’s teacher just happens to be cute and young, he may turn up the charm, just a little. Enough to make the teacher giggle and make MC cover their face in embarrassment.

After the interviews Asmo will probably schedule a nice day out for the two of them, shopping, a movie, mani pedis, something fun!

The real weird stuff happens in the months after the interviews… if Asmo did lightly flirt with the teacher, MC gets quite a few questions about their guardian. Questions that ask if Asmo is single in not as many words…

Oh lord, MC’s teacher developed a crush on Asmo.

Nail painting night was supposed to be a fun occasion, but MC was hopping mad and embarrassed. Asmo didn’t seem to notice as he continued to paint the little human’s nails.

“And then I told Phenex to get lost. The nerve of that little monster, right MC?” When MC didn’t reply, Asmo looked up and tilted his head. “MC?”

MC’s angry face would have been much more threatening if they weren’t just so adorable, but it was getting the message across.

“MC..?”

“Asmo.” MC’s glare deepened. “My teacher wants to know if you’re single.”

Asmo blinked a few times, before he hit his tongue to keep from laughing. “Really now~. I knew they’d be madly in love with me-”

“WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIIIIIIIIIIIS?!”

Oh My Demon King is That a BAKE SALE?! (Beel)

Of course Beel said yes! He’d gladly go to MC’s parent teacher interview!

He even put on a nice outfit :D he ended up looking a bit like a secret serviceman guarding MC, the tiny president.

Beel stopped for McDonald’s on the way there, all the other kids were so jealous of MC when they stepped out of the car eating fries.

But a little something something caught Beel’s eye when he and MC walked into the school… was that a… bake sale?

MC quickly explained that the bake sale was fundraiser for their class trip that year and the snacks weren’t complimentary. He had to pay.

And pay Beel did. He cleared out the entire table. MC’s grade’s overnight trip was going to be decadent as hell. That was no longer a crowd funded thing, that trip was privately funded by a tall buff ginger secret service member and this tiny in comparison child.

Kids are incredibly blunt, just like Beel, so when a random kindergarten kid wandered over, looked up at Beel, and very knowingly said “you’re very tall”. Beel was like “yeah”. The kid then said “what’s it like being that tall?”

Beel’s response to this kid’s question was to pick them up and hold them for a few seconds before placing them back down. For just a few moments this kid knew what it like to be over 6’4. Of course, more kids swarmed in and asked to be picked up.

Sure it was cute, but Beel now has an army of kids ranging from kindergarteners to third graders.

Finally, the conference actually began. Beel snacked the entire time and dutifully listened to everything the teacher had to say.

After the interviews are over, he checks with MC to make sure everything the teacher said was true and that they weren’t lying. If all was well, the two made their exit.

They stopped at Wendy’s on the way home.

“I’m so full…” MC groaned, Beel held up a massive cookie.

“So I can eat this?”

“No. Gimme that.” MC took a very defeated bite out of it. “My stomach says no but my mouth says yes…”

“I don’t want you to get a stomachache, MC,” Beel said worriedly. “No more snacks.”

“It’s a little late for that. It’s past nine and I’m still eating, there’s no way I’m getting to sleep at a reasonable hour.”

“Oh…” Beel mumbled. “I may have not completely thought this through.”

“*Snore* Huh? Wha? MC’s Grades? Uh… Fuck…” (Belphie)

MC must be failing a class or something because why on earth would they pick Belphie otherwise.

They ask him to go while he’s delirious from just waking up from a nap, he sort of half nods and mumbles some gibberish before going back to sleep.

MC had to basically carry his ass to the school. Belphie drooled all over them in the waiting room, and when it was their time to go into the interview, Belphie had to be manually put into the chair and slapped awake.

He barely listens, he just sits and nods along with whatever the teacher is saying. The teacher could say MC brought an alligator to school and he’d just go “uh huh…” “mmmph… yep…” “really now?” then yawn.

The only thing that could possibly get Belphie to be interested is if MC is studying space. If they are, than boy howdy is Belphie suddenly interested in their education.

Other than that? *snore*

If MC is in fact failing or doing poorly, MC’s teacher asks to see another one of MC’s guardians at a later date. Their plan failed miserably.

MC drags Belphie out of the school and yells at him for not helping them. Belphie, still sleep delirious, tries to press the snooze button. MC does not have a snooze button.

“Belphie!” MC shouted, shaking the Avatar of Sloth awake. The House of Lamentation’s resident bastard was somehow sleeping standing up outside. “HOW COULD YOU?!”

“Eh?” Belphie half-snorted and looked around confused. “What’d I do? Where are we?”

“At my school! You said that you’d go to my parent teacher interviews!”

“…MC I don’t think I’d pass well for you.”

“YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO GO AS MY GUARDIAN!”

“Sheesh,” Belphie murmured while he rubbed the remaining sleep from his eyes. “You humans are so noisy.”

MC looked up at their dearest demon friend, and gave him their best glare. “I’m going to take all your fancy temperature changing pillows and switch them with normal pillows you traitorous bastard.”

[velvett-tearss]

Inertia — Jean Kirschtein

summary: A little gravity and spilled coffee never hurt anybody, and it certainly wouldn’t hurt Jean, especially if coming from you.

warning: cursing, gender-neutral reader (no pronouns mentioned), you won’t get the gist of it if you don’t remember 8th grade science lmao ❤️ (laws of motion)

genre: modern au, fluff

word count: 1.3k

a/n: very much an impulse post, this has been collecting dust in my drafts for too long lmao, I hope you enjoy this <3 I sure didn’t 😀

     Jean has never been good with science.

     He learned it for a number of years in different classes — biology, chemistry, physics — and he still couldn't tell you anything other than that mitochondria was the powerhouse of the cell.

It wasn't all that bad at first. He did enjoy it in the earlier years of school where most of his teachers breezed past it along with social studies. It was when the class actually started to learn periodic elements that things took a turn.

He learned it, nonetheless. There really wasn't a rule that gets you out of being taught a subject, as uninteresting as you may find it or the class itself.

     Despite this, Jean isn't exactly a lost cause in the science department. A few things have stuck with him, believe it or not. Gravity, photosynthesis, some Charles Darwin dude.

     But now, he wishes he payed attention more in science class. Maybe he would've understood what you were saying the first time he met you.

     "Geez, do you always have somewhere to be?" Jean had asked you with a scowl. He was sprawled on the floor, looking up at you. The two of you weren't acquainted yet. Not necessarily.

He placed you very easily, though. He'd seen you running around the university's campus a lot of the time. You never seemed to be still, in one place, in one piece.

     The reason behind it? He didn't know or care.

You had bumped into him a number of times. The first three times, Jean waved the incident off in good-nature. He thought himself to be a man with patience, something you didn't seem to have. There was no harm in running into someone from time to time.

It was the fourth time that he wasn't so pleased with. Each time you bumped into him, you sent him tumbling on his ass. Hard. He always landed on the floor in a comedic position like those cartoon characters on T.V.

    And each time — no matter the day — you, somehow, remained perfectly unscathed and standing. That wasn't even the worst of it: you always stood there, a hand on your hip and an impatient expression painting your face.

     All that ever did was bruise his ego and ass a bit. You usually went your separate ways after quick apologies, and Jean would see you leave in a quicker speed than when you'd arrived.

But this time around, you had a cup of coffee in your hands.

"What if I do?" you had countered, bending down to help him off the ground. You were scowling. Scowling! How could you look so displeased when it was him who'd been spilled with coffee?!

“Maybe you should manage your time better.” he bit back, allowing you to help him up.

"Maybe you shouldn't walk along the inner corners of hallways."

"Maybe you shouldn't run in the building." Jean told you, trying to ignore the large patch of his damp shirt that clung to his midriff. It was sticky and hot, and he didn't like it one bit. "Besides, everyone knows the inside lane is for leaving."

"No, it's not." you threw back quickly, as if you had been prepared for this interaction. Had you had this conversation with someone else before? How many other people had been victim of your coffee throwing and iron step?

"The outside lane is for when someone is leaving, and the inside lane is for coming in. Same goes for stairs."

Jean raised a brow, patience running dangerously thin on him. "Who made that rule up?" he questioned, unimpressed by your words. He refrained from calling you something that might’ve gotten him a smack to the face.

     "Rising is harder than descending." you explained, crossing your arms over your chest. You gave him an expression that mirrored his. "Plus, the inner lane is shorter than the outer lane. It's— Well, it's the law of gravity."

     You spoke with such conviction he feared he'd been wrong about everything in his life. Besides, he didn't know a thing about gravity other than that it kept him from flying into space.

     "Alright, fine, but why would you run with a steaming cup of coffee in your hands?" Jean asked in retaliation. He may have lacked in the science department, but he knew his common sense quite well. "It's like you want to spill it all over people."

Your mouth opened and shut quickly. He raised a brow, awaiting for your comeback that never came. Instead, you did the weirdest thing.

You laughed at him, eyes crinkling slightly at him. It was then that he realized maybe he wasn't so mad at you after all, Spilt coffee never hurt anybody, right? He would live to see the next day, so was there really any harm?

     "Okay, you're right." you admitted, almost bashfully. Your eyes traveled down to the brown stain of coffee on his dress shirt. "I shouldn't run around with hot drinks anymore, but you shouldn't walk along the inner lane when you're leaving the building."

     "Alright, deal. No more walking in the corners."

     You nodded, lips pursed. "No more running with coffee."

     It wasn't long after that he finally mustered up the courage to ask you out to dinner. He isn't gonna lie and say it was all sunshine and rainbows because it wasn't.

You were always running, always on the go. Were you running out of time? You had nowhere to be, yet you feared the thought of being late. Had you ever stopped and smelled the roses?

It was pretty hard at times. Getting accustomed to your way of things was hard. You were a mess before you met him. At least that's what you always say. Jean doesn't think so.

Maybe you were, in a sense. That was fine, too. It didn't bother him. Messes were made to be cleaned up after all, and he didn't mind leading the clean-up crew if you let him.

Things started sailing smoother as time flew. It was nice. Being with you was nice. You stopped spilling coffee on people. He stopped walking along the inner corners of hallways.

You never seemed to stop running, though. That was a constant in your lives. That was okay, too. Jean had to learn how to keep up with your never-ending speed, but you always let him set the pace. Maybe that's his favorite thing about you.

He taught you that being at rest isn't always a bad thing. You don't have to rush to get things done. Sometimes it's okay to just stop and be grateful for what's now and not what can be.

You taught him a fair share, too. You explained to him that the law of gravity isn’t actually about rising and descending. That had just been a lie to get you out of a bad situation. There was such thing as a law of gravity discovered by Isaac Newton.

Maybe Jean should've payed attention in science class when they talked about Newton because perhaps he would've understood what you were saying that first day.

All he knew was Newton's Laws of Motion, mainly the first: an object stays at rest or in motion unless acted upon by an unbalanced force.

     He figured it was something like you.

As fast as you walked, you never seemed to stop. Not until you sent him to the ground on his ass with a coffee stain on his shirt. Maybe he was the unbalanced force that acted on you. He wasn't completely sure.

     After all, Jean had never been good at science.

note: self-projected here bc I fucking hate science too ,, does this make sense or was I spitting gibberish skdkskdn

[findingnemo19]

Because of Seaweed (Percabeth AU)

A percabeth AU fanfic. That I had originally made because my friend didn't believe my writing was good, and now he's refusing to read the damn thing. Oh well. You guys will read it. That's more than enough. And, Shout out to my friend, Isha. She helped me with the plot to this fic. For this (mortal) AU, Malcolm is 2 years younger than Annabeth. Annabeth and Malcolm are Athena and Fredrick’s kids. Summary: Annabeth froze. She’s heard the 8 words multiple times in a teasing voice from her brother and her friends. She’s replayed the time she’d meet her soulmate in her head multiple times in multiple different ways. But never had she thought her soulmate would manage to get seaweed on one of her favorite books.

Read on AO3

She matured early, according to her parents.

Since Annabeth was 8, she hated the idea of “soulmates”.  Why does she have to spend her life with someone? Why does she have to fall in love with someone? And why isn’t it her choice?

Of course, her parents tried explaining it to her, ( “It is your choice. The soulmate idea is like… telling the future.”) but she wouldn’t have any of it.

Unfortunately or fortunately, the fateful 10th birthday of Annabeth’s rolled around. Most people would wake up on their 10th birthday, immediately looking at the inside of their dominant hand wrist. Annabeth on the other hand avoided even letting that side of her right hand in her line of sight until her dad came back from work right before dinner.

Both her parents and her 8yo brother, Malcolm, were fed up with Annabeth delaying to look at the words her soulmate will tell her. Rolling her eyes at this, she turned her wrist over, “‘ You’re more worried about your book rather than yourself? ’” She recited the words slowly to herself, the bold cursive writing, murder on her dyslexic eyes. “‘ You’re more worried about your book rather than yourself?’ ” She spoke more clearly, looking up at her family around the dining table. “That’s what it says.”

Athena let a teasing smile across her face as Annabeth’s father and brother burst out in laughter. “Fitting. Very, very fitting.” Annabeth scowled at her mom, “Be quiet.” she grumbled. Stabbing her fork in her noodles she took a bite, stuffing her face with food.

->->->->->

She’s in middle school, and maybe she’s stopped absolutely loathing the soulmate idea. Not that she’s 100% ok with Fate deciding her relationship or anything. But maybe she didn’t hate it.

Plus, the 8th-grade halls are (oddly enough) filled with people asking each other out, and then arguing over the fact that “YOU’RE NOT MY SOULMATE.”

Apart from that, at least Annabeth has friends now. (Read: Piper, Frank, Hazel, and Reyna.) And thank whatever god is up there, her friends aren’t the annoying 8th graders fighting over soulmates in the hallways.

She’s happy and content. Apart from the assload of homework she gets, content. Content with her family, her friends, her classmates, and teachers-

(Ok maybe she wants to stab that “Caleb” guy in the eye with a very sharp pencil if he says anything about Annabeth being “a dumb blond” one more time. And her Science teacher. If he says “Mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell” one more goddamned time-)

->->->->->

Annabeth unlocked the door to her house, wincing a little in reaction to the yelling between her parents from the inside. She shook her head, stepping inside, praying that her parents aren’t near the stairs so she wouldn’t have to face that. God must have decided to be nice to the blond-haired girl, because her parents were arguing in the living room, and couldn’t even see the staircase from there.

No. It’s not out of the ordinary for her parents to fight. They’ve been doing it almost every day now. However, Annabeth hasn’t been able to understand why they fight. But they do and it bothers her. Let a girl and her brother in high school get some rest, would you?

About an hour later, she was typing up an essay that she completely forgot about, that's due the next day, when there was a loud sound from downstairs, the sound of someone running up the wooden staircase, and a frantic knock on her bedroom door. Confused and slightly concerned, she said, “Come in!”

As the door opened, Annabeth pushed her chair back across the wooden floor, cringing at the sound. “Malcolm?” Annabeth stood up as her brother shut and locked the bedroom door behind him. “What happened?”

Malcolm rolled his eyes, sitting down gingerly on Annabeth’s (for once unmade) bed. “I went downstairs to ask mom a question about homework, started talking before getting down the stairs, and she threw a plate- I wouldn’t say at me but pretty much at me.”

Annabeth raised her eyebrows in shock. “That's- that’s new,” she muttered under her breath.

Her brother scoffed, “No shit, Sherlock.”

Annabeth chuckled with no humor, saving her word document before sitting down next to the blonde-haired boy. “You ok though?”

Malcolm rolled his eyes fondly, “Yeah I’m fine, Beth.”

“Good.” A beat of silence passed between them before, “You could’ve just asked me for help instead of going to mom.”

He pondered this, “I guess.”

Annabeth chuckled, flopping down back on her bed, covering her eyes with her arm, “I’m tired.”

Malcolm fell into an almost imitated position, staring up at the ceiling, “Of what?”

Annabeth sighed, “Everything. It’s so stressful. Homework, essays, finals coming up, college applications, our parents fighting practically 24-by-7. It’s just too much-” Her voice cracked and she silenced herself.

“Yeah, I get it. Ninth isn’t much easier. Oh god, I forgot to tell you. Remember Calissa? From middle school?”

Annabeth nodded, “Mhm. The middle school ‘Bitch Girl.’ Why?”

“She asked me out today.”

Annabeth took her arm off her eyes and sat up looking at her brother with an unreadable expression. “ What?”

“Whoa, whoa Annie. Don’t go all “protective older sister” on me. I’m 15, I can handle this stuff myself .” Malcolm sat up as well. “I told her I’d think about it.”

Annabeth raised her eyebrows, crossing her arms at her chest, “You’d think about it? Malcolm this is the same girl who bullied 75% of your middle school. Including you. Are you-”

“Beth. Breathe. I’ll say no. I just said that at the moment.”

Annabeth scoffed, getting up from the bed and walking to her desk. “You better say no.” Malcolm hummed in response, getting up from the bed and leaving the room.

The sound of a ceramic cup breaking made Annabeth flinch (don’t ask how she knows what it was. She’s a little clumsy ok?). She bit her lip, turning to face the half-closed door, “Malcolm?”

“Yeah?” her brother’s muffled voice answered.

“Work in my room.”

->->->->->

Annabeth loved reading at the beach. The light wind messing up her hair, the random, delicate spray of water refreshing her; it was calming, relaxing, soothing...As long as she was a solid 30 feet away from the surfers.

Yet today was a different day, for Annabeth had actually come down to the beach with her brother and Calissa. Turns out, Malcolm ended up saying yes to go out with Calissa because he hasn’t “actually dated anybody.” So great.

To get her mind off things, she had decided to bring a book down to the beach like she always did. Picking up “Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows” for the 7th time in her life, she opened the book to where she left off.

She was engrossed in her book when she heard the loud splash before she felt the water.  Gasping, she stood up, facing a boy only slightly taller than her, maybe the same age. He had raven hair, which was splattered across his face from the ocean water. His eyes were a startling sea green color. Annabeth, with all the people she knew, had never come across someone with that color of green eyes.

Shaking her head slightly to get the seaweed out of her hair (and maybe that slight trance the guy in front of her left her in.) Picking up her book from the ground where it fell she winced, “What the hell!? You got seaweed on my book, damn it.”

She saw the guy in front of her rolling his eyes. “You care more about your book than yourself?”

Annabeth froze. She’s heard the 8 words multiple times in a teasing voice from her brother and her friends. She’s replayed the time she’d meet her soulmate in her head multiple times in multiple different ways. But never had she thought her soulmate would manage to get seaweed on one of her favorite books.

“Well shit.” She heard from in front of her.

Laughing humorlessly she ran her hand through her hair, “yeah shit.”

“Annie!” Annabeth looked over to her right, seeing her brother and Calissa walking over to them. “Found your soulmate?”

“Malcolm. Were you spying on me? You’re on a date, aren’t you?”

“We got bored.”

The raven-haired boy in front of her chuckled. “Annie.?”

“It’s a nickname.” She snapped. “That I will not allow you to call me.” Annabeth sighed, putting her hand out in front of her. “Annabeth Chase.”

The guy smiled, slipping his hand in Annabeth’s. “Percy Jackson.” Percy Jackson. Jackson. She recognized the name. Percy must’ve read her expression, for he laughed and said, “Yes, Sally Jackson’s son.”

Annabeth’s eyes widened, “Oh my god, her writing is beautiful. Her characters are so well written. The way she carries the series, oh my god it’s incredible!”

Percy laughed. From beside Annabeth, Malcolm gave Percy a look, “She's a little obsessed with Sally Jackson’s books.”

“A little?” Percy asked, teasing.

Annabeth glared at him, “Whatever.” My soulmate is Sally Jackson’s son. Oh my god.

Percy cleared his throat, “Uh. Sorry about the seaweed and everything. I lost control for a bit.”

Annabeth hummed absent-mindedly, wrinkling her nose in annoyance at the realization that her book was covered in saltwater and seaweed and she probably won't be able to save it. “Well, one of my favorite books is now soaked but I guess I’ll forgive you.” She then added, “But only because you're the son of one of my favorite authors.”

Percy laughed lightly, “Not surprising. All my friends love my mom more than me.” Percy reached his hand out and brushed off a piece of seaweed from Annabeth’s hair. Suddenly, it seemed like she forgot how to breathe. Annabeth saw Percy’s eyes search her face, his hand delicately resting on her cheek.

Too soon, Percy pulled back, and Annabeth wasn't sure why that bothered her. He glanced at the setting sun, “I should get going before my mom gets worried.”

Annabeth blinked, “Uh yeah, yeah ok.”

Percy smiled, turning, grabbing his surfboard from the ground, and yelled to some people in the distance, “Hey, Thalia! Jace, Neeks, we gotta go.”

“Don't call me that, Jackson!”

Annabeth smiled. “Hey, uh, Percy?”

Percy looked back at her, a smile still on his face, “Yeah?”

“Could I- Could I have your number?” Wincing, as she worried she might’ve stepped over a line.

Percy’s smile only grew, “Of course.”

->->->->->

She was happy. More than happy. In the past two years, a lot happened.

A few weeks after the beach incident, Annabeth had called Percy, asking to go out on a date, because, “we’re soulmates anyway, might as well.” He agreed. 2 weeks and 4 dates later, they had their first kiss. Under a street light that was already dying out, with a leaf or two, landing on Annabeth’s head, which Percy teased her about for weeks. ( “It was just a leaf Annabeth.” “We were kissing. Can you blame me for getting startled?” “No one’s blaming you. I’m just teasing you, Wise Girl.” “Yeah, I can tell, Seaweed Brain.” )

Oh and the nicknames. They’re stupid because they’re cliché. ( “But clichés are only clichés because they work, sweetie.” “Sure, Mrs. Jackson.” “Sally.” )

And Percy’s mother is a gem, and so is his half-sister, Estelle Blofis. Apparently, Percy’s parents are divorced, and Percy’s mother remarried, to an English teacher, Paul Blofis. Percy’s friends are great too. Thalia, Nico, and Annabeth immediately hit it off. Percy met Annabeth’s friends as well, at some point, and she found it cute how nervous he was.

Also, she got accepted to Queens College. And better yet, so did her boyfriend.

->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->

Thanks for reading!!

[thealphabetmurders]

Irises

Pairing: Prinxiety

Word Count: 2522

Summary: Virgil knows exactly 3 things: 1. He is stressed about finals more than a normal person would 2. Impressionists are the worst 3. The barista at this new coffee shop has the prettiest eyes

Triggers: anxiety, insomnia, implied/referenced drug-use, lack of self care

Authors Note: I wanted to challenge myself and write a fic with a pairing that I don’t normally do. I am definitely more privy to Logince, Analogical, and Moxiety, but I gotta love Prinxiety, how could you not?  

(Read on AO3)

Virgil tugged off his earbuds as he walked into Monet’s, an unfamiliar coffee house and a new experience for Virgil. Virgil hated new experiences. The smell of vanilla filled his senses as he walked in a dream-like state to the counter (standing a little bit away to let the employees know he wasn’t ready), rubbing his eyes from exhaustion, getting his fix here because he did not have the energy to go out and buy more grounds. He knew that it was most likely extremely unhealthy for him to have only consumed Takis, coffee, and Adderall the past couple days, but it was finals week, which meant it was crunch time. 

Virgil tells people he is a bit more anxious than most people, and by a bit, he means a fuckton. So, of course, finals week has him questioning everything in his life, from his study methods to his career path. Virgil is a smart guy, so he doesn’t actually have anything to worry about, as long as he studies, right? Wrong. As a fine arts major, not all of his classes are just knowing that the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell, you have to apply the skills you learned into a creative piece, and while Virgil is a talented artist, he was always second guessing everything he created. Which is why, in the 11th hour, Virgil decided he hated the medium he was working in, completely scrapped it, and had 48 hours to create 3 completely new “transformative” pieces. Sleep was not an option until it had to be. Which, it seemed it had been, when he fell asleep on the bus after class, missing his apartment by 11 stops. Coffee seemed necessary at this point. 

Pulling his hoodie off his head, smoothing out his hair, he looked at the pretty standard local coffee shop menu with some lunch items as well, and just looking at those made his stomach grumble. 

“Suppose you cannot create on an empty stomach.” Virgil thought. “And while I’m here…”

 As he was reading, he noticed each combo had a quirky name relating to Monet’s works. Berry spring salad with bagel was Luncheon on the Grass, sesame soba was The Japanese Footbridge….

“Give me a break…” Virgil muttered, before finally deciding on what to get. The shop was completely empty, so Virgil didn’t feel too bad about taking his time, though he did feel a bit nervous looking like a mess in front of the handsome barista. 

His olive colored skin tone with black wavy hair made Virgil feel a bit woozy, but he became dazed when he looked into his beautiful emerald eyes, almost forgetting why he was there, until he asked, “What can I do for ya, man?” 

“Uh, yea, can I get the tomato soup and grilled cheese with a medium espresso frappuccino,” He looked around the empty store, “For here, I guess,”

The barista turned around and looked at the two other employees behind him, one on their phone and one inspecting their nails absentmindedly, “Does anyone want to make a frap?” 

They both looked up and looked at each other before turning back to the one taking Virgil’s order. The one with a large scar on the left side of his face put his thumb down while the other one who looked very similar to his cashier blew a raspberry, shaking his head. The handsome cashier turned back to Virgil, and shrugged, “Sorry, gonna have to pick something else, no one want to make it,” 

Virgil sighed, rubbing his eyes, “Okay, whatever, is an iced flat white with some espresso okay?”

The three looked at each other then back at Virgil, before the cashier said, “Dude… It was a joke,” 

“Yea man,” The barista with a scar said, “We can’t just say no to what you order,” 

“What kind of business would that be?” The third one piped up. 

“Are you okay?” The barista, Virgil looked at his nametag, Roman, asked. 

Virgil merely sighed, “I’m kind of going through it,” 

Virgil pulled out his card, but Roman put his hand up. “On the house,” Normally Virgil would protest, despite the cheesy food names it was still a local business,  but being so stressed and depressed he honestly could bring himself to care. He choked out a thanks and sat down by a window, leaning his temple against the it, cool condensation comforting and making him a bit more awake. 

His food and his coffee eventually arrived, Virgil thanked Roman, who then proceeded to sit down across from him, elbows on the table and hands folded. 

“Can I help you?” Virgil asked, probably being harsher than intended, it was just his natural speaking voice. 

“Probably not, I wanna see if I can help you,” Roman shrugged. 

Virgil frowned, “Help me?” 

“I have been told I am good company and good at advice, and you, Brad Pitt-iful, seems like you are falling apart at the seams,” 

Virgil chuckled dryly, “Trust me, I hardly think you are qualified to handle hearing about all my problems,” 

Roman sat up straighter, looking into Virgil’s brown eyes against his gorgeous green, “I work as a barista by day with a bunch of dysfunctional idiots and I am a bartender at night, there is nothing I haven’t seen before, I am probably more qualified than some therapists”  He crossed his arms and cocked his eyebrow, “Try me,” 

Virgil, intrigued, took the bait, and spilled. He talked about his anxiety, the insomnia, the fear of failure, the days where he debates dropping out, his nerves going into overdrive everytime he thinks about what he is going to, how he abandoned his final project, how he has to start on a new one- essentially everything that has been swirling in Virgil’s mind the past semester. 

“Hmm, okay, so you are pulling all nighters to finish all your work, and you only had one piece to do before you were completely finished with your final, and you then decided it looked all wrong and scrapped it?” Roman recapped and Virgil nodded, “Might I give you a suggestion?” 

“You can try,” 

“When you get home, go to sleep. Sleep for at least 9 hours, in a row, look at your old project again, and see how you feel,” Roman shrugged, “Maybe with a clear head you will feel differently about your project, maybe even get some inspiration,” 

Virgil gripped the bridge of his nose, “Roman, I do not have the time to sleep for a full 9 hours, that is ridiculous, I have to do so many projects,” 

“You’ll have one less to start from square one in if you end up actually liking what you did,” 

“It is a nice thought, I appreciate it, but I probably won’t be able anyways, not after the coffee,” Virgil took another sip, as to prove his point, but Roman just smirked. 

“That’s actually just a frozen hot chocolate with coffee flavoring in it,” 

Virgil eyes flew open wide, “Really?” He stared at his drink for a bit before looking at Roman, “They taste exactly the same, I cannot believe I let you fool me like that,” 

“Janus, Remus, and I made an executive decision, you do not look good,” Roman frowned, concerned, most likely looking at his swallowed out skin and circle under his eyes. 

“Well-” Virgil half-chuckled, “Not a lot of people look good compared to you,” Virgil would later wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat because of his flippant flirting that he never engages in, but for now he doesn’t care. 

“Charmed.” Roman said, a fond smile present on his face, “I am sure you are a catch as well, when you don’t look like a skeleton” The door opened and a gaggle of people walked in, dressed in the local high school’s uniform. Roman sighed, “That’s my cue,” 

He stood up and frowned, quickly patting his front and back pockets before pulling out a sharpie. He grabbed Virgil's arm, the other one yelped, blushing slightly at the contact. “I would do the cliche ‘write my number on a napkin’, but now I know if you don’t text me it’s because you don’t want to, which is okay too.” He capped his pen, “Message me about what you decide to do, if you want. Would love to see your art,” And with a flourish of his hand, Roman walked away to the counter to take the many orders of the teenagers. 

Virgil looked down at the 9 numbers on his arm, swallowing thickly, feeling a bit sick, though it is not just from Roman’s number in bold, black ink. God, he was tired. 

His body was not attached to his brain as he walked to the bus station, got off, and walked up to his studio, unlocking the door and banging his head against the wall (not too hard, though, these walls are so thin they might as well be made of rice paper). Virgil looked at the numbers on his arm, remembering what Roman said. 

Virgil shrugged off his jacket and jeans,  throwing them on his ‘stuff’ chair and pulled on a pair of sweats, collapsing on his bed. He looked at his phone, the time reading 3:35pm. 

“9 hours from now… That’s midnight. Is he mental?” Virgil muttered to himself. He attempted to pull himself out of bed to get started to study for his history of art final, but his body would just not cooperate. How long has it been since he has had a proper sleep. 

If you have to think about it, it’s been too long… 

That tomato soup and grilled cheese combination was beginning to make him sleepy. Virgil groaned, face-palming. He went on his phone and set an alarm for 6:00pm. 

“Fine, a short nap,” He said to himself. He hit the lights and it took maybe two minutes before he was sleeping, dreaming of impression paintings and emerald eyes. 

***

this is Virgil. 

i didn’t end up sleeping for the 9 hours like you asked

i ended up sleeping for 13.

i hate you. 

And how do you feel, now?

……….…

much better actually. you were right. after my coma i looked back at my final and realised it was a lot better than I remembered. 

i even ended up finishing it. 

That is fantastic! I am soooo glad I could help. What did you end up doing?

Can you send me a picture? 

oh uh

idk if that is a good idea

i don’t want you to think i am weird

Virgil. 

I beta read my twin’s fanfiction. 

I am so desensitized, I do not think I am allowed to be weirded out. 

ok...

img.cm/1029483

Incoming call (Roman- Monet’s)....

****

Virgil yelped when he saw the incoming call. He doesn’t like phone calls at the best of times, but especially not now, not after he showed Roman his final piece. Stupid, stupid, STUPID! He should have just said no, people don’t press about that kind of thing. But Roman is clearly a liar because he said he wouldn’t be weirded out and he is, and Virgil just met this guy and he already messed everything up, why does he have to be such a fucking weirdo all the time, goddamnit, everything is falling apart, Virgil may have gotten sleep but he can’t fix himself. He groaned and snatched up the phone on the last ring, attempting to put on his best, most positive voice. 

“Hey, Roman, wha-what’s up… Bro?” 

“Hello!” Roman answered the phone, not sounding angry or upset, which calmed Virgil a bit, “I apologize, I should have prefaced that I loved the painting. I understand why you might have been worried, but it is absolutely wonderful.” 

“Really?” Virgil let out a breath, “I was really worried that-” 

“Are you kidding?” Roman almost shouted through the phone, Virgil having to pull it away from his ear, “A profile of just my eyes surrounded by roses and irises, in the style of the impressionists, even though I know you hate that style,”

“I don’t hate it,” Virgil muttered. 

“You ranted about Renoir, Degas, and Monet for longer than anyone I have ever met, and one of my closest friends is a curator at the art museum,” 

Virgil sighed, “Yea, you’re right, they suck. Sorry about that…” 

Roman laughed, “Ha, are you joking? That was the highlight of my day. But all that aside, how could you even fathom me not liking the piece? 

“I mean,” Virgil rubbed the back of his neck, “I just met you yesterday, it’s not exactly something people do for someone when they do not even know their last name.” 

“My last name is Perez, my middle name is Thomas, my twin brother is Remus who you met yesterday, I am left handed, my favorite food color is red, and I love attention, it’s why I have done theater for 20 years. Does that help?” 

Virgil grumbled, “I guess it does,” 

Roman laughed, “I love it, Virgil, trust me, it is now my phone background,” 

Virgil’s heart swelled, “Really?” 

“Really. Honestly after us talking for like, 45 minutes yesterday, I would have been more offended if I wasn’t your muse, I mean, what about mean isn’t inspirational?” Both Roman and Virgil laughed at that, “But I could have told you all this over text, I called because I don’t like texting to ask pretty boys out on dates,” 

Virgil’s heart leapt into his throat, he felt as though someone dropped a ton of bricks on his chest. How was he supposed to respond to that? Roman first impression of him was a literal dead man walking and he still wants to go out with him?

“A date?” Virgil responded, still shocked. 

“Unless the pride pin on your jacket was just as an ally, and you just spent hours painting my eyes in a straight way, I would like to, if you want,” Roman said simply. Before Virgil could respond, Roman started speaking again, “And don’t say no just because I saw you at your rock bottom, I can see where this is going,” 

Virgil smacked his lips together, “You got me,”

“What do you say,” 

Virgil smiled, genuinely, for the first time in a while, “Let’s do it,” 

Virgil was only speechless for a full minute when Roman laid out an entire romantic picnic, scheduling it perfectly to watch a matinee Shakespeare in the Park production of Much Ado About Nothing, both of them happily munching on the brownies and sandwiches Roman had made that morning. Virgil only complained for 3 minutes when Roman wanted to take him to the art museum, the blushing lasted for 4 times that long when Roman confessed it was because he wanted to hear Virgil about the paintings, his voice being one of the most pleasant he has heard. When Roman grabbed Virgil by the waist, pulling him in for a kiss, Virgil responded with equal passion and emotion that Roman was, not even noticing they were in front of Monet’s Irises. 

[natural-namjoon]

Silver Millennium Ch 1

Previous Chapter

His hands. They felt warm, really warm...actually they were pretty close to burning at this point.  Yoongi looked down and noticed that they were... Glowing? The logical part of his brain told him this wasn't supposed to be happening but the other part felt fuzzy. Everything was soft and warm and if he had to put it into words he would have described himself as a soft little cloud floating in a bright daytime sky, weird but he was enjoying himself. The soft silver glow that was around his hands seemed to melt all around him. He couldn't see himself but he knew he was bathed in it. This pretty, soft, silver light. So comforting, so warm….

“YOONGI!” 

It was as if someone threw ice water on him. His joints locked and his muscles tensed. His heartbeat took off in a sprint and he was suddenly achingly aware of his own body and the space it occupied. He looked around but all he saw was white. He was floating in a white room, but it wasn't a room, it was just a vast colorless expanse.

“YOONGII!!” he heard the voice again… what was it saying? Yoongi? He knew it was his name but it sounded so unfamiliar to him. The voice called his name again and that's when the aching in his chest started. Dull at first but the more Yoongi tried to pinpoint the voice, it grew stronger. A tearing, painful ache that caused him to double over. He wanted it to stop. He knew who the voice belonged to and he needed to find them, once he did that the aching would stop. He didn't ponder much on why he knew that as a fact, he just needed to do it. With a huge gulp of air, he reared back and cupped his hands around his mouth, and with all his strength he hoped his call would reach the familiar yet unknown person, with one last prayer he let it all out and he shouted their name ********

-

-

-

-

Yoongi jerked so violently it caused him to sit all the way up-right in bed. He looked around confused. For a moment he really didn't know where he was or who he was. The fog of confusion drifted slowly away as he was able to get his bearings. He was in his bedroom, in his tiny loft apartment in Seoul. Oh yeah, and it was also the first day of University. That also explained the blaring alarm that was coming from his left night-table. He groaned and reached over to smack the clock into silence. He sat for a moment trying to shake off the heavy feeling his dream had left him with. It was an extremely weird dream, no doubt, but it wasn’t one he hadn't had before. He had been having dreams like that for as long as he can remember. First, they started coming few and far in between and as he aged they occurred more and more often. Since moving to Seoul they actually have been happening almost every other night. They weren't scary per se, just alarming. He always woke with a strong sense of urgency and longing, but at this point, it wasn't something he wasn't used to. The content of the dream was always pretty similar, though the setting would shuffle between white space, a garden, a hall with marble pillars, a rose bush maze, and sometimes his favorite- on a grand balcony overlooking a bright bustling city with white shiny buildings. In all the dreams, though, he always started off alone, bathed in warm silver light, and it was that voice that always grabbed him. It was like hearing the voice of a long lost friend or relative. He knew the voice, he felt it deep in his soul, that voice belonged to someone dear, and he knew who it was, but every time he was ready to shout the person's name he always awoke. It was frustrating, to say the least.

 He remembers telling his mom about the dream and she has decided to take him to a Doctor and when Yoongi was deemed fit as a fiddle with no neurological or mental issues, she had taken him to a psychic who specialized in dream interpretation. She told him that the person calling his name was his own inner demon who was put there by some jealous relatives and if they paid her extra she could exercise the demon. Needless to say, she was scamming them to high heaven. In the end, Yoongi was forced to accept these odd dreams as an almost everyday norm in his life. Not that he was complaining, he could have been some unlucky bastard who dreamt of terrible, horrific things every day. Now that, he wouldn't be able to handle on account of his inability to sit through a scary movie without noping out of the theatre or living room.

Shaking off the heavy feelings he lazily climbed out of bed, he grabbed his phone and headed to the kitchen to turn on his coffee maker. He had felt odd buying the thing at first. He had always thought that only old people had a full pot coffee maker, but it was cheaper than those flashy one cup coffee espresso machines like everyone his age was so keen about owning. In the end, he felt like it was a better deal because he came with a warmer that he could leave on all day and the result was a nice hot pot of coffee when he came home, yeah grandpa Yoongi was winning the millennial game. 

As he set the machine to brew he checked his phone and was happily surprised to see a text from his little Sister, Chae Rin, wishing him good luck on his first day. She was five years younger than him and in her 2nd year of high school. He and Chaerin actually got along well and he always thought of them as closer than the usual brother-sister pair. He loved composing and she loved singing. Through their mutual love in music, they became the best of friends.

He texted her a quick ‘thanks Chae, give mom a big hug for me’ then he set off to get ready for classes. Once finished, he filled up a to-go cup of coffee and grabbed his plain black Jansport bag and headed out. He walked out to the attached parking garage that his apartment building had and took the elevator to the 2nd level, he counted himself lucky that he had a car. A lot of kids his age always relied on public transport, and even though public transport would probably be cheaper, he treasured his car because he was gifted his Dad's old car once he had gotten his license,  He stepped off the elevator and was met by his baby, a light grey 1994 Buick Skylark. It was an old car, literally as old as him but it still worked and he loved it. He hopped in and started her up, as usual, the engine stalled but after some sweet encouraging words and a few pumps of the gas he got it started. 

He found his way to campus relatively easy, having only lived a mile from the school. He found the designated parking for students and hesitantly made his way to go find his first class. Yoongi had always known what he wanted to do and it was produce music. He has always had a passion for writing and creating music and that's what lead him to enroll for a degree in music production and composition. He knew he'd have to take a lot of music theory classes, a lot of writing and reading classes and maybe some computer classes and history but never had he expected to be taking math and science classes. He was going to work with music, why did he need to know that the mitochondria are the powerhouse of the cell?? He grumbled annoyed at himself as he scanned the campus map to find the building that his first-class was in, which was Beginning Biochemistry. After about 5 min he was still very lost, the map was way too simply designed so he couldn't figure out where he was in regard to the map, therefore, he couldn't figure out where he needed to go. What also did not help was that none of the buildings had signs on them indicating what building was which, What school did that? He thought. He was now royally frustrated so he just started walking deeper into the campus, hoping to go by building shape to find the building he needed. 

At this point he was storming past people, intensely scanning the surrounding buildings and then the map, unfortunately, he wasn't paying attention to where he was going and he ran into a brick wall that knocked him on his rear end, well what he thought was a wall, until the wall yelped as it lost balance and dropped a couple of heavy-looking textbooks, It was another dude. Yoongi felt immediate embarrassment, he looked over at the other guy on the ground across from him, the dude was big, much bigger than Yoongi, which kinda wasn’t saying much since Yoongi was a smaller average man, but this dude was tall, Yoongi could tell he was legs and arms for days and he had a massive frame. 

The guy was quickly trying to gather his impressive mountain of textbooks and notebooks. Yoongi snapped out of his embarrassed trance and quickly jumped to help the guy, 

“Hey man, sorry about that, I should have been looking where I was going…” Yoongi said, tentatively handing the guy a notebook.

 The big guy looked over at him and that's when Yoongi first got a good look at his face, he had soft eyes with very full lips and a small button nose, he was handsome as hell, except for the piercing gaze that was being sent his way, Yoongi thought for sure that the guy was going to lay into him. Yoongi wouldn't consider himself a scrappy guy but he has been known to stand up for himself on more than one occasion during his primary school years, so he wasn't above fighting right there but he really wasn't up for it on the first day of school. Instead of yelling or reacting in any negative way the taller guy just sighed and in a deep smooth voice, he responded quietly

“It's fine man, I should've been paying better attention myself” 

With all his items gathered he stood and yeah Yoongi had been right, the guy stood really tall, he seemed to be a good 8 inches taller than him, with a wide frame and thick arms and legs, Yoongi thought maybe this guy played sports, probably basketball which he hoped was the case, Yoongi loved basketball and used to play competitively in high school. 

“Dang man your pretty built, you play hoops?” Yoongi tried to sound as nonchalant as possible, the guy then surprised him by… giggling? Yoongi looked up at him confused.

“ Sorry its funny, I've actually never really played any kind of sport in my entire life” tall,  deep voice said

“ WHAT?! Then why are you built like a tank man??” he said incredulously

“ My first priorities are always my academics but what's the point of being smart if I can't keep my body alive long enough to reap the rewards of my success? I just work out a lot in my spare time is all, just so I stay in tip-top shape” the deep voice explained, “Ah sorry where are my manners, my Name is Namjoon, Kim Namjoon, and you are?” Namjoon extended his hand over to Yoongi. 

Yoongi shook it, he had to admit that he was impressed by Namjoon, Tall, Well built, smart, nice and good looking, he didn't realize people like him existed, he was impressed yet felt significantly inferior. 

“ Wow, it's nice to meet you, I’m Min Yoongi. Sorry again about bumping into you, I was just looking at the map, Today is my first day and I’m just kind of scrambling trying to find my first class but this damn school doesn't seem to believe in labeling the buildings for us slower folks,” Yoongi complained and Namjoon chuckled. 

“It’s ok, I was confused too but after a closer look, I figured out the buildings are actually numbered on small signs by the doors. Kind of counter-intuitive because they made the maps so simplistic.” Namjoon explained, Yoongi just stood surprised and honestly ticked off

“ Well that’s fucking stupid” he stated bluntly.

Namjoon laughed again and then held out his hand, If you don't mind me looking at your schedule then I can maybe point out each building that your classes are in, maybe then we can avoid you being late” he smiled softly and Two cute dimples popped out on his cheeks

Yoongi just nodded excitedly and passed Namjoon his Schedule with relief. After scanning the classes and their corresponding class numbers, Namjoon made a surprised noise.

“ Well I guess fate has intervened, cause I have 3 of the same classes as you and our first one happens to both be beginning biochemistry” Namjoons dimpled smile got wider as he handed Yoongi his schedule back. Yoongi felt his jaw drop

“ No freaking way, that’s crazy! Well, I guess it's a good thing I face-planted into you” he laughed feeling genuinely lucky for the first time that day.

“ Come on, let's head over to class so we’re not late, I know where it is” Namjoon broke into a long stride heading towards a nearby building

“ Lead the way friend” Yoongi tried to hurry and match his big steps.

Once in class, they opted into sitting next to each other having formed this sudden friendship out of nowhere. As class when on during free moments they would talk and he learned That Najoon wanted to become a teacher and he was currently leaning towards literature teacher since Namjoon had a passion for writing. As he sat and learned more about his new friend Yoongi couldn't help but feel like he was meant to be here, his choice of leaving home and going to a big fancy college wasn't in vain, it felt right and he was actually pretty confident more good things were to come his way. He let that warm happy feeling sink in and radiate as he laughed and chatted.

………………………………

The day went on pretty successfully, the next class Yoongi had with Namjoon, so it felt nice to just follow his new friend around. His second class of the day he had Literature, easy enough. Again he sat next to Namjoon and again he felt at ease and comforted to have someone on his side on his first day. No awkward seating, no weird forced partnerships by the professor. It was awesome and he didn't know what it was about Namjoon but he radiated such a calming and trusting aura. Yoongi loved it and he was drawn to it, which made it that much harder to leave him once Literature was over. Yoongi's next class was music theory and Namjoon had a foreign language class. So after pointing Yoongi in the right direction and promising to meet up with him for their history class later in the day, Namjoon was off and Yoongi was alone again. 

With a dramatic sigh, Yoongi made his way over to his Music theory class. Once he found the correct classroom he grabbed a seat towards the back. He felt somewhat chagrined that he didn’t have anyone he knew in this class but he was also kind of ok with it. He had a feeling he would be too wrapped up in the course material to make many friends. Music was in his soul so he wanted to absorb anything he could in regards to it. 

One by one, students filed into the classroom and soon class began, his professor was an older lady, she was sweet and very wise, she was classically trained in over 10 instruments and she definitely had a passion for music. Yoongi loved her and he knew he was going to love the class. The professor was in the middle of telling a charming story about the time she took a trip to Italy and learned how to play the oboe from an elderly man who lived in a hut, she had all her students chuckling and the vibe was light and fun when all of the sudden the loud metal door to the classroom swung open.  Yoongi looked up and in walked the prettiest person he has probably ever seen. He was young, probably a student, and he was gorgeous, slim and small with muscled thighs and legs under black skinny jeans, he had a ripped band shirt on under a red velvet bomber jacket, he had on one sparkly dangly earring and a silver choker. His Hair was also the shiniest golden blond and styled longer with a clean undercut, he was breathtaking.  The pretty boy stood in the doorway and looked around, taking in the room, everyone just stared at him. A sly smile broke on the guys’ plump juicy lips which looked like they were covered in gloss.

 After a moment the teacher finally spoke up,

“ Excuse me? Can I help you?” she chirped, 

the guy giggled and it was high pitched and almost melodic.

“ Yeah uh, is this music theory?” the guy asked his voice smooth and pleasing to the ears, not deep but not too high pitched. The Professor gave a curt huff and got up to check the class roster.

“Jimin? Park Jimin?” she asked, reading the only name that was marked absent during roll call. The guy pointed at her and smiled that gorgeous smile again.

“ That’s me, sorry I’m late, I slept in a little too long, haha whoops” Jimin giggled again like he found the whole situation hilarious.

“ Whatever just please find a seat Mr. Park, you’ve disrupted the class enough already.” the professor looked completely done. With another small giggle, Jimin took a look around the room and Yoongi, having found the boy intimidating and incredibly attractive, prayed he sat somewhere far from him, he didn’t want any distractions. Almost as if he could read Yoongi’s thoughts, Jimin, zeroed in on a seat next to Yoongi and practically skipped over to him. Yoongi had hoped he didn’t look as alarmed as he felt. Jimin took the seat and immediately turned towards Yoongi, face beautiful and expressionless as he stared him down. Yoongi fought the urge to writhe in his seat, he wanted to snap at the guy and demand what the hell he was looking at, but he wasn’t the confrontational type so instead, he held his hand out and said quietly,  “ Hello, I’m Min Yoongi, nice to meet you.” 

after a beat Jimin broke into the biggest smile Yoongi had ever seen, his smile so big his eyes became slits and his perfect pearly white teeth gleamed at him. Jimin reached out and grabbed Yoongi’s hand and just held it. 

“ Oh my god it’s so nice to meet you too, I’m  Park Jimin but you can call me Jimin or Jiminie or whatever you like. Your so cute, let’s be friends!” 

And just like that Jimin turned back towards the front of the class and that was that. Yoongi had never felt so confused in his life. 

The rest of the class went off without a problem and Jimin didn’t say anything else to Yoongi, It was strange but Yoongi didn’t mind. Once class was over Yoongi stood up practically starving, he had a free period, so that means he had about an hour to kill before his history class with Namjoon, Yoongi decided to grab something at the campus cafe. As he gathered his things Jimin turned and looked at him expectantly. Yoongi stood in a permanent state of confusion, Jimin giggled again softly, finding Yoongi’s awkwardness adorable, 

“Sorry I just kind of expected you to say something, I was just wondering what class you had next, maybe we could walk together,”  He explained giving Yoongi a softer smile. 

Yoongi, on the other hand, felt so confused, How did he just make a friend just like that, he hasn’t even decided if he liked Jimin or not. After a moment he decided that even if he turned out not liking the guy at least he would be alone before meeting up with Namjoon.

“Um next class actually I have a free period after this, then in about an hour I got-”

“NO FREEKING WAY!” Jimin screeched grabbing Yoongi’s hands, “I have a free period right now too! do you want to hang out until your next class?” for the first time that day Yoongi smiled back at Jimin, 

“ Sure thing, I was actually going to head to the cafe to grab something to eat, care to join me?” He asked and Jimin just nodded excitedly. Both boys gathered their things and headed out of the now-empty classroom together, they made their way across campus to the Campus Cafe which was an extension from the library. Once there Yoongi ordered a roast beef sandwich with some fries and a soda Jimin ordered a berry almond salad and milk tea with boba. They both agreed on sitting in the courtyard at one of the picnic benches in the shade as it was a really nice day out, one they sat down they didn’t say much and just started eating, Yoongi was unsure how to strike up a conversation with Jimin, they hadn’t said much to each other after leaving class and even stood quietly next to each other in line for food not saying anything. He was hoping Jimin wasn’t feeling too awkward, at least not as much as he was feeling. Yoongi took a sip of his soda still wracking his brain for something that could start a decent conversation with his new “friend” when Jimin suddenly looked up from his food and looked straight at Yoongi,

“I intimidate you, don’t I?” He asked bluntly.

Yoongi literally spit out his drink, Jimin giggled,

“I- uh- um what do you mean I’m not-” Yoongi stuttered trying to not sound like a fucking dork and Jimin just smiled at him

“It’s ok, it happens a lot- and I don’t mean that in a cocky way i just… I know I come off as a lot, its hard for people to vibe with me because of it,” he explained, Yoongi nodded cleaning up the soda he had spit all over himself. 

“it’s not so much that I don’t vibe, I actually think it’s pretty cool that you came up to me, I’m not very good at making friends so people who take initiative first really make my life easier so thank you,” he smiled at Jimin hoping his sincerity came through strong enough. 

Jimin stared at him for a bit, Jimin liked Yoongi, he didn’t know why but he felt in his heart that Yoongi was a good person and was going to make a good friend. Finally feeling like he had broken the ice, Yoongi starting asking Jimin about his studies and found out Jimin was a dance Major, his life was dancing, of any style.  He specialized in Alternative Dancing, though. Yoongi noticed that when Jimin spoke about it he swore he saw a warm glow in his eyes, like literally a yellow gleam mixed in with his dark brown eyes. It was strange but he wasn’t going to say anything. 

In the middle of his chat with Jimin, Yoongi could suddenly hear his name being called. Confused, he turned around and saw Namjoon jogging up to him and Jimin,

“Yoongi! Hey man, why didn’t you tell me you had a free period right now,” he smiled his cute dimpled smile as he sat down next to Yoongi at the picnic table. Yoongi didn’t notice Jimin's Jaw literally fall to the floor. 

“Yoongi, whos this I thought you said you didn’t have any friends” Jimin practically drooled on the table Namjoon faked a gasp,

“ Oh wow I thought you considered me at least a friend since we were literally tangled up this morning” he laughed not realizing how that sentence sounded, Yoongi's ears turned red and Jimin gasped

“ That’s not what he means,” Yoongi put his hand in his face, embarrassed by the big dork sitting next to him, 

“ Oh! No, I didn’t-” Namjoon started, only just realizing his mistake.

“Anyways Jimin, this is Namjoon, Namjoon this is Jimin, I just met him right now in music theory class.” 

Namjoon reached out to shake Jimin's hand and Jimin just held it, for a little too long as his eyes literally devoured the tall brown-haired boy in front of him.

Yoongi cleared his throat trying to distract from Jimin's obvious thot behavior, 

“Hey so you have a free period right now too, that’s awesome, now we can meet up and head to history together,” Yoongi, once again felt so lucky that he didn't have to do any of this alone so far. 

Hey may not know either of these guys well enough to call them good friends but he sure as hell going to cling to any hope of friendship he could get. Throughout the free period, all three boys talked and bonded, it was strang the conversation ran like they had known each other for years and each guy felt a comfortable familiarity, even with Yoongi being a shy awkward weirdo, Namjoon being a bit of an airhead sometimes and Jimin being thirsty for Namjoon. Again Yoongi was hit with a new wave of happiness and he knew the others felt it too. He made some friends on his first day, and that was pretty damn cool.

--------------------------------

Next Chapter

[sohotthateveryonedied]

This was so fun to think about, seriously you’re awesome and I love you anon ♥️

Damian:

• *looks in the mirror five seconds after the spell hit. gasps* “I’m HIDEOUS!!!”

• Wayne Enterprises employee, smiling brightly: “Good morning Mr. Drake-Wayne. How are you today?”

Damian: “I don’t know but you’re fired.”

• He gets so fed up with having to push Tim’s bangs from his eyes that he resorts to borrowing Cass’ sparkly butterfly hair clips to keep them up and out of his face.

• “Why am I only an inch taller than I used to be? I still can’t reach Pennyworth’s cookie jar even on my tiptoes. You need to grow more, Drake.”

• He finds out why Tim wears long sleeves so often, but he doesn’t say anything to Tim about it. He does file it away for future conversation, though, and he monitors Tim more closely even after the whole incident is over.

• “Damian, why are you chugging an entire carton of milk?”

“Because Drake is too small for me to tolerate any longer. I’m a beanpole. A toothpick. A runt amidst a litter of bats.”

• *goes outside for an hour* “HOW THE HELL AM I SO SUNBURNED??? WHAT ARE YOU, A VAMPIRE???”

• He’s sad when his pets don’t recognize him and run when he tries to pet them. As a solution, he douses his entire body in catnip. Turns out Tim never told him he was allergic to catnip, so that was an interesting discovery.

• He has to drink at least four cups of coffee a day or else he gets sick because at this point Tim is addicted to coffee.

Same goes for normal food. Eating ramen noodles with goldfish and butterscotch pudding is fine, but he ate one (1) apple and his body tried to reject it.

• Ives: “Hey Timbo, what’s up?”

Damian: “Uh....Hello, associate of mine. Feeling very fleek today. Everything is cool beans. Crackalackin.”

Tim:

• “Why are my pecs so huge.” *cups them* “They feel like rock hard muscle melons. Like a cantaloupe filled with pure power. What strong breasticles.”

• He’s amazed by the amount of muscle on Jason’s body and spends most of his time trying to see what stuff he can crush with his bare hands.

*breaks a stick in half* “I AM ALMIGHTY.”

• He braids Jason’s white streak and pins it back with some pink hair clips Steph gave him.

*poses in the mirror* “I’m a buff zombie princess.”

• *on the phone with Roy* “Hey Roy, so remember that secret I told you once and demanded you never to tell anyone else? Yeah, that one. Would you mind explaining it to me in explicit detail, slowly so I can write it all down.”

• *gentle gasp* “I’m allowed to drink alcoholic beverages in this body.”

*later that night after his fifth shot of appletini* “DO YOU EVER JUST THINK ABOUT THE MUPPETS AND CRY??? KERMIT THE FROG MAN, KERMIT THE FROG.”

• He has to wear sunglasses and a hat whenever he goes out because he has to make sure no one in Gotham recognizes the late Jason Todd.

• The first time he sees what Jason’s body really looks like under all the armor and layers, he’s shocked. Jason doesn’t take his shirt off in front of people much because he’s embarrassed by all the scars. Tim tries not to look at them because he knows Jason doesn’t like sharing this detail with anyone, but occasionally he finds himself absently tracing the autopsy scar under his shirt. He has a new respect for Jason after this whole ordeal.

Jason:

• “I feel like an overcooked noodle.”

• Adjusting to how flexible Dick is turns out to be quite the experience. He does the splits with no problem. He swings from a tree branch and lands on the ground as fluid as a leaf. He does four backflips in a row.

Jason, cartwheeling through the room: “Watch as he flips with the greatest of ease, the rad noodle man on the flying trapeze.”

Dick, in his tiny Damian voice: “That’s not even how the song goes!”

• “Why does my mouth taste like ketchup and ice cream 24/7. What do you eat, Dick.”

• At first he thinks it’ll be nice for once, being able to walk around Gotham without worrying about people recognizing him as being a dead man. Turns out, it’s almost worse when he can’t go to a McDonald’s without a bunch of paparazzi and fan girls following him around and begging to take a picture with the hottest Wayne boy.

• He goes to the police precinct for work and is on edge the whole time because this is the first time in years he’s been surrounded by cops who don’t want to arrest him.

• Catcaller: “Hey, nice ass!”

Jason: “Thanks, I got it from my brother!”

• Dick from the next room: “If you smoke in my body and give me cancer I’ll kill you!���

Jason, with a lit cigarette in his mouth: “It’s a metaphor, you see. I died once and I’ll die again because I’m not a fucking coward.”

• After he’s back in his own body: “Hey, I wonder if I can still do all that flipsy shit.”

Later: “So, Master Jason, tell me again how you shattered your collarbone?”

Dick:

• He eats one (1) cheeseburger, but unfortunately forgot about Damian being vegetarian so he winds up getting violently sick because the body he’s in doesn’t accept meat anymore. So that was a learning experience.

• “Why does it physically hurt to smile. Who hurt you, Damian.”

“A bunch of assassins and a psychopath for a grandfather.”

• Damian may be athletic, but he’s nowhere near as stretchy as Dick is used to. He tries putting his leg behind his head and nearly breaks his pelvis.

One upside is he’s far smaller and lighter in Damian’s body, which makes swinging around on the trapeze a breeze. He’s like an Acrobat Barbie doll.

• He has to call Tim for help when he can’t reach his cereal on the top shelf.

Tim, walking into the kitchen half asleep and confused: “Are you one of Santa’s elves?”

Dick, sobbing on the floor: “I CAN’T REACH MY FRUITY PEBBLES”

• He starts crying again later that afternoon because “THIS WEAK ASS BODY CAN’T EAT SRIRACHA WHAT AM I GOING TO DO NOW???”

• He stands in the middle of the room and watches all the adults bustle around: “I am a bean. A tiny chihuahua. A mere flea in a world of elephants and woosles.”

• “If there is one upside to all of this body-swapping, at least I can finally use the Dora the Explorer baby toothpaste without being ridiculed.”

• Jon: “Hi, Dami! What’s up?”

Dick: *to himself* “Hmmm what would Damian say...Oh, I know!”

To Jon: “Salutations, comrade. Photosynthesis. Lackadaisical. The mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell.”

[phandomphightclub]

Lexxpocalypse Reveal 2: @lexosaveus

Dots was all alone in the Denny’s – Tali had reluctantly left, saying she had some kind of business to take care of, but Dots was pretty sure she was just finding somewhere to hide and cry about Kingdom Hearts 3 again.  Whatever the reason, the Denny’s at 3 am had ominous feel when no one was out fighting in the ring. The Denny’s wasn’t meant to be this quiet.  The only sounds were that of Dots’ footsteps on the dusty floorboards – Tali really needed to get the cleaning staff back in here.  

But that wasn’t Dots’ main concern at the moment.  She’d been pacing for approximately seven hours now, running on only tea brewed from fresh mountain dew to sustain her.  She briefly contemplated using the Denny’s kitchen to whip something up, but she wasn’t in the mood for Shrek-themed cupcakes at the moment, and she was even less in the mood to break her concentration.

Concentration.  Right.  The Lexxes.  The imposters.  The –

The door flung open.  Dots jumped a foot in the air and hissed, yeeting her magnifying glass at the intruder.

“Ow!”  Anri (@heyheyitsstillgay) rubbed their head.  “Dots?  Is that you?  What the heck are you doing in here?”

“What are you doing here?”  Dots challenged in return.  “The Denny’s is closed!  The security system’s supposed to keep any other ghosts out–” She gasped dramatically.  “Unless you’re one of the Lexxes and you hacked the security system!”  She flew up, seizing Anri by the collar.  “Are you one of them?  ARE YOU??”

“Geez, Dots, chill.  I already had the memes ripped out of me last month, I don’t need to molt for another year at least.”  They shook themself free and dusted themself off.  “Besides, I’m not one of the Lexx blogs.  I just ran across Tali on her way out and she said someone might need to keep an eye on you.  In hindsight, I can see why.”

“What?  I didn’t need Tali to send someone to babysit me!  I’m the first employee she hired!  I can take care of myself, I– VORUS!”  She suddenly screeched, jumping a foot back from the window.  Anri glanced outside and burst out laughing.

“That’s just your reflection, hun,” Anri said, gently (so as not to startle her) placing a hand on Dots’ shoulder.  “Vorus isn’t here.”

“I… swear I… nevermind,” Dots murmured.  “Well, if you’re here, you might as well help with the investigation.  Do you have any intel for me?”

“I didn’t wear my best Sherlock meme shirt for nothing,” Anri said with a grin, gesturing to their shirt that read A MURDER, YAY over a demented screenshot of BBC’s Sherlock.  “I’ve got some info on Lexosaveus.  I saw them hanging around my lair in the Nightmare Valley.  Then around the same time, I saw sonicgrl01.”

Dots frowned.  “So you think Lexosavus is sonicgrl01?  Just because you saw them both in a similar place at a similar time?  ...Wait, actually, that’s brilliant!  The imposters can’t keep up the illusion forever, it makes sense that their disguise could crack.  Could you take me to check it out?”

“I would, but…” Anri frowned.  “You look exhausted.  If you fall asleep in the Nightmare Valley – well, it’ll be exactly what it sounds like.  A nightmare.”

“I can–” Dots yawned, “--handle it.  I promise I’ll sleep right after.  Just take me, please!”

Anri shrugged.  “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

XXX

The Nightmare Valley wasn’t so bad, Dots thought.  Lots of stars.  A very nice space aesthetic.  Rather peaceful, actually, if you asked her.  Why had Anri been so worried?

“So where did you see–”

“Shhh!”  Anri shushed her before whispering, “You have to be quiet in these parts.  You never know what ghosts you could attract here.”

“Fine, fine,” Dots humored her.  It was Anri’s home, they probably knew better than her in this case.  But flying on in silence was boring.  And… well, a little bit tiring, with nothing to break the monotony of pinprick stars floating by on all sides… like a thousand tiny nightlights… or… or the eyes of a thousand Lexxes…

“They’re watching me,” she muttered, eyes widening.  “They’re here… oh mothman, they’ve found me!  They’re everywhere!”

Two of the eyes glowed bright red and grew larger – flying towards her.  

“Lexovorus!  I’m not – I’m not scared of you!”  Her voice cracked.  The eyes seemed to laugh; a toothy grin split between them.

“You should be.”

The cavernous jaw opened, and –

“Dots!  Dots, wake up!”

What?  What was–

Something whumped Dots upside the head, and everything went black.  When she opened her eyes again,  Anri’s fuzzy silhouette was staring down at her.

“What… what happened?”  Dots mumbled, rubbing her head.

“You fell asleep,” Anri deadpanned.  “Just like I warned you.”

“Oh…” Dots blushed a light purple, her namesake polka dots standing out even more.  “Sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry,” Anri surprisingly apologized.  “I shouldn’t have brought you here. But we’re almost to my lair.  You can rest there.”

Dots nodded, and they continued their flight.  Just before they could reach Anri’s lair though, another figure came into view.

“I didn’t fall asleep again, did I?”  Dots asked, recognizing the ghost as Lexosaveus.  Ironically, the Lexx hadn’t been there to save Dots when she’d needed it.

“Nope.  That’s our target.”  Anri grinned.  “Hey, Saveus!  We’ve got a crisis over here!  Help!”

“Huh?  Wait, but we’re not–”

“LEXOSAVEUS, TO THE RESCUE!”  Saveus intoned dramatically, puffing out their chest and flying over.  Their cape billowed out in the nonexistent wind. “WHAT IS YOUR AILMENT, MORTALS?”

“It’s Dots!  She’s nearly collapsed from fatigue!”  Anri played along, sucking up to the duplicate’s obvious obsession.  Dots caught on quickly, lying back in Anri’s arms and holding the back of her hand up to her forehead.

Saveus gasped.  “OH MY!  THAT LOOKS QUITE SERIOUS!  WHAT CAN BE DONE TO HELP?”

“There’s only one cure to this detective’s condition,” Anri said seriously.  “She needs… answers.”

“ANSWERS?  TWO PLUS TWO IS FOUR!  THE MITOCHONDRIA IS THE POWERHOUSE OF THE CELL!  THE MEANING OF LIFE IS–”

“No, no, a specific answer,” Anri clarified.  “She needs to know… who you are.”

“Me?”  Lexosaveus’s voice finally dropped to a reasonable decibel.  “I am… LEXOSAVEUS!  HERO OF THE GHOST ZONE AND…”

Anri fixed them with a harsh glare, one that held the power of the terrible memes and danno edits contained within their immortal form.  Lexosaveus, powerful as they might have been, was unable to withstand it.  

“OH… OH… ALRIGHT!”  They exclaimed.  “MY NAME IS… @sonicgrl01!  THERE!  IS DOTS SAVED NOW??”

Dots cracked open her eyes.  “Oh, yes, Saveus.  I’m very saved.  Thank you so much.”

“YAY!  LEXOSAVUS IS ONCE AGAIN DOTS’ HERO!”

And with that, they flew off into the depths of the Nightmare Valley.

“Way to go, Dots.”  Anri grinned.

“Hey, that one was all you.  Thanks.”  Dots smiled back before yawning.  “Now, I think what would really save me is some sleep.”

Anri nodded.  “Definitely.  Come on, let’s get you some rest.”

[brosura]

Advice on how to survive ap/college level classes as a high schooler ???

tbh i’m not gonna lie, it’s been a really long time since i’ve been a high schooler/taken APs or anything of that sort and i think advice tends to vary depending on the subject/person but here are some general academic things:

taking advanced classes always presents challenges with regards to both material and the limited amount of time you have to learn that material, so it’s important to try to stay organized and have a system for yourself!

write everything down! got an assignment due? write it down! write it down in one place, too!

if you already have all the dates of major exams/projects, something that’s good to do is make a calendar, with all of the important dates of all your subjects in it! 

i’m more a visual person, so it was easier for me to conceptualize how close or far a due date was seeing it on a calendar!

you can also do this on your phone or computer but make sure you can access/see it easily

i tend to say for notes, stick with the notetaking process (there are like hella methods i’m told but i’m just a ‘write it as it comes’ type of girl) that you’re the most comfortable with/don’t switch it up too much, but some good things for consistency:

come up with a reliable and consistent shorthand that you can understand (ex. bc is always because, ~ is always approximately)

if you zone out a lot in a lecture like me or are confused about a topic that was just explained, mark it with a symbol immediately 

you can look it up on your own later or Consult a friend

do that ASAP, it’s better to clarify now than be confused when ur cramming towards the deadline

also a diplomatic way to say “hey i fuckin missed that” is to rephrase what you think might have been said and ask like “did i mishear you?/sorry, is that close?”

ex. “blablablabla the mitochondria bla bla bla” “i think i might have misheard, but were you saying that the mitochondria were important to the cell’s energy?” “yes they are the powerhouse of the cell”

flashcards are good for rote memorization like dates! definitions! terminology!

carry around flashcards for the subject ur most uncomfortable with wherever you go! if you’re ever bored & u somehow escape the distraction of this blue hell site, go through ‘em a few times. 

a good thing to do with flashcards is to also come up with a notation system like X for incorrect, O for correct, ~ for struggled with, so that you know where you need work

websites like quizlet will also do this for you

mnemonics (like Never Eat Soggy Worms (for north south east west)) are a critical part of memorization! make some up! the more personal meaning you assign to a mnemonic, the better you’ll remember it! don’t go too crazy though!

break down larger projects into smaller tasks!

example: an essay. break it down into: ‘today i will find quotes that fit the theme’, ‘today i will outline and sort/cut my quotes’, ‘today i will write the first two body paragraphs.

side note: don’t listen to your teachers: easybib is fine, just give it a look over to make sure it’s ok if your teacher is a stickler on MLA/whatever

ALSO life hack: if you’re reading a wikipedia page and you’re like fuck this is useful, see if there’s a source cited. you can use that source lol.

also a side note: i’m not gonna say don’t read the book but sometimes u don’t have to if you’re really pressed for time, but that’s a case by case basis and should always be approached with caution and consideration

this is gonna sound hard but try to sleep!! i was perpetually sleep deprived in HS and i ended up doing ok, but if it’s possible try to get at least 6 hours! 3 hours of REM sleep are needed by your brain to process and encode information!!

if you suffer from test anxiety, something that’s always helped me is to give myself something good to look forward to! like, going into an exam think: once this is over i’ll watch a movie, or, i’ll play a video game

if you tend to have trouble committing to long periods of work, try something like the marinara timer! it times periods of focus and break periods so you’re never stuck in one place for too long! 

i didn’t hear about it until college, but it really helped me overcome my tendency to hyperfocus or take extremely long breaks!

i”MmMMM GONnA STOP BC I I FEEL LIKE I’M JUST GIVING SHITTY ADVICE BUTTT YEAH!!! 

LIKE FuCKin>>> LET ME KNOW IF U WANT SPECIFIC SHIT THIS IS V GENERAL