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sawwyouuinadream · 4 years

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FIFTH HARMONY EXPOSED

Isn’t this the type of headline that intrigues people? Well, here I will expose some myths that the so-called Exposing accounts go on exposing. Just declaring something here in the beginning: I love all my Fifth Harmony girls, OT5 that is, and read it at your discretion. The thoughts stated below are opinions of mine, gathered over months and years, and I firmly stand by them.

Cutting to the chase, here we go:

1) Fifth Harmony the Band Image:

This group was manufactured by Simon Cowell on the X-Factor, back in 2012, and it broke up in 2018. On the show, Lauren Jauregui, the green-eyed white Latina was given the majority of solos and they performed songs in Spanish and garnered Hispanic fans banking on the fact that there were three Latinas in the group.

After they signed to Syco/Epic when the show ended, we saw Camila Cabello, the more convincing Latina, who was born in Cuba, get more and more solos. Normani Kordei was promoted as the “dancer” of the group, Ally Brooke as the “unproblematic one”, Lauren as the “broody edgy girl” and Dinah Jane as the “relatable Polynesian”.

Not surprisingly, Camila was the first one to do a solo venture with Shawn Mendes, the song I Know What You Did Last Summer, which, according to me, was a song to test the waters for both Shawn and Camila.

As more time passes, Camila was portrayed like the lead, not by HERSELF, but the trademark that Fifth Harmony was. She stopped talking in interviews, started doing more and more solo stuff, and even signed to a different manager. Voila, we were getting the rift in-band vibes galore.

Now here’s my verdict:

Fifth Harmony was made by Simon to not get the next One Direction, but to get the next Taylor Swift. Little Mix was already there in the U.K, and people know Girl groups don’t do as well as Boy Bands, mostly because of the inherent Misogyny in the society.

They wanted the next relatable girl next door who could influence teenage girls. Camila being Latina, could now have an even larger fanbase, in Latin America as well as South Asia, because South Asian music is quite similar in a groove to Latin Music.

Why Not Lauren or Ally then? Well, they were simply not interesting or Latin enough.

Why Not Normani? Do I have to tell? Those bitches are racist as fuck.

Why Not Dinah? Same thing. Less Appeal to a large fanbase.

That’s why Camila was the goofy dorky most relatable person on 5H. That’s why she readily had a high budget tour all set up for her the moment she left the group. That’s why they promoted her. 5H was never the long-lasting plan. Camila was. 5H was just an excuse to get her a strong fanbase and give Epic 4 more mediocre artists. I am really happy that Normani proved her worthiness and released smash hits as well. And mind you, this was done without Camila herself wishing for it. It was just the label’s decision.

2) Camila- the beauty or the bitch?

Camila Cabello is a very intriguing person to me. At the first glance, you haven’t seen a more dorky, goofy, and relatable celebrity like her, eating bananas and tripping on air. But then she starts talking about profound and deep experiences, and you go on her Tumblr and find quotes from books and aesthetic pictures. But then you see her leaked text messages and old Tumblr and all those images crumble before your eyes.

Think about this. Among the 5H girls, Dinah, Lauren, Ally, and Normani have friends outside the industry whom they talk to and hang out with. They have family they post about. Camila? She seems to have no friends apart from Sandra and Marielle Guzman, and those are the people we got the leaked texts with. What about her school teachers and school friends? Nothing. All she hangs out with is Shawn Mendes and Taylor Swift and her mom who follows her like a hawk. She doesn’t seem to have a social life at all except for events she goes for business.

In my opinion, Camila has a pretty big secret that is guarded closely by everybody but her.

Is she racist? Yes. She was. She didn’t have any sensitivity to Black people or their struggles whatsoever. But you have to understand she is Hispanic, and not born in the U.S. And she has sort of always been a big mouth. I am from a country that doesn’t have a single black person in the near 30000 miles. We grow up using racial slurs as if it's nothing. I had to unlearn my indoctrinations and consciously undo the wrongs in my head and implement them in my actions. Bit it doesn’t undo things I said as a child. I bullied one friend of mine in middle school simply because her skin tone was darker than mine. But I was not canceled. Because I am not a celebrity. Have I learned? Yes definitely. I will never dare to act like that again because now I understand the pain of being ostracized and I recognize the struggles of black people. But that happened over time.

I feel like Camila is a changed person now, and tries very hard to educate herself. She is not perfect, but she doesn’t deserve so much hate. She deserves a second chance. If she was indeed like that, Normani wouldn’t post a photo with her in IT on the eighth anniversary of 5H.

As far as her being a jealous bitch goes. The rest of 5H always had good things to talk about her after 5H dissolved in 2018. Lauren, the activist, even praised her. Dinah still seems pretty close to her.

Did she do solo stuff without 5H knowing?

No. If she did, and the whole not attending meetings thing happened, Dinah wouldn’t go to her Bad Things concert one day before she left the band. Lauren wouldn’t laugh with her in the VMAs like that if they weren’t friends and just work colleagues. The whole 5H vs Camila feud was planned by management because apparently shade helps sales. For both parties. Another manipulative misogynistic example of society.

3) Are/ Were Camila and Lauren romantically together?

All the roads lead to Rome honey. Camren has too many coincidences to NOT be real. From song lyrics to shady potato photos to weird comments and body language in interviews, I am pretty sure the Camren blogs will keep you covered.

Why does Lauren hate it so much? Why are we being invasive?

Lauren is supposed to nix it every time because she is contractually bound to do so. She needs to be the one to keep Camila’s straight image intact, although we have more than tons of evidence that Camila is anything but straight.

To everyone who says we shouldn’t force sexuality on people. Heterosexuality is not the default. Don’t force straightness on her. She never said she was straight. We’re just speculating she is with Lauren, and that’s it. Lauren just happens to be a girl. That’s IT.

Why did the nosy shippers out Lauren?

Nobody did. They just speculated on her sexuality based on assumptions. But no fan posted photos of her and Lucy from her aunt’s Facebook, because it was password protected. It was most probably intentional. Note that she shot a coming-out photoshoot with her “ex-girlfriend” Lucy Vives even before the Wedding where she was supposedly outed. Why shoot a photoshoot TO COME OUT and then hide behind the closet? Her coming out was planned as early as 2015, and so was the bearding of Camila simultaneously.

To me, Lauren and Camila are contracts bound to lie, at this moment. But they have a very grown-up and well-communicated relationship that is very sacred and private, and only the two of them know everything about it. Lauren and Camila are still related to the same contract, and this intuition of mine was confirmed yesterday. She was shooting something for Roger gold’s label. I hope the best for both of them, and I would love it if they were together. But them going public would be huge and in my opinion, detrimental to them.

4) Who’s Shawn Mendes?

A really career-oriented artist. Shawmila is for him and his promotion only. Not his fault though. He is just a conceited boy with good guitar skills who wants to be extremely famous. I will not talk about his sexuality, because unlike Camila, I can’t trace him to anyone in particular. But I can say this, Camila’s solo career had plans for Shawmila since the very start. I also believe it will end like Jelena and be back and forth for some time for minor promotions.

Final Verdict:

Nobody is perfect. Don’t make this about Shawmila Vs Camren. Every artist has their struggles. But please break out of the shell of heteronormativity, misogyny, and racism. Love human beings. The 5H girls and Shawn Mendes are teenagers, now adults, who have been oppressed and manipulated by a capitalistic racist homophobic industry, for money and money only. And only the fans have the power to see the truth and choose the right stuff.

#fifth harmony #camila cabello #camila and lauren #camren #ot5 #shawmila #syco #lauren jauregui

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pumpkinparade · 3 years

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Palpatine, Obi-wan, and tea

So, this is a very stupid idea, but I needed to get it out of my head before I did something extreme like writing fanfic. As a heads up, I've used real-world meanings for various details since there presumably isn't a Star Wars equivalent.

The story begins when Anakin is late for a social engagement. Both Palpatine and Obi-wan are anticipating his appearance. The Sith lord presents a kindly and patient front but fumes at this egregious waste of his time internally while the Jedi pushes his dissatisfaction into the force. He disapproves of the Chancellor, but his former padawan's discourtesy is off-putting. The fact that he has put the Chancellor of the Republic on hold merely aggravated the situation.

The Jedi informs the politician that Skywalker should arrive shortly. He doesn't. The chosen one is with Padmé at present and has forgotten he's meant to be elsewhere. Kenobi ultimately invites Palpatine to offers him some tea aboard his ship while they delay action until Anakin materializes.

Normally, Jedi eschew worldly possessions, but Kenobi owns an old miniature tea set that once belonged to Qui Gon. His tea supplies are generally supplied by colleagues who offer him the leaves when he's not on Coruscant. The ship is equipped with an electric tea kettle and a portable Hot Plate for cooking. He goes about preparing Green tea for both of them when he remembers the Sencha, while excellent in quality, has since gone somewhat stale. It hasn't gone bad, but it has lost some of its fresh flavours.

Jedi are practical(in theory), and tea can be costly.

Lower-income individuals in certain Asian countries have roasted stale green tea to enhance the taste. As this is an accepted practice, he takes the loose leaf tea in his possession, grounds, roasts, and serves it with minimal preamble. Palpatine debates whether or he'll actually drink peasant tea. When Anakin appears, apologizing profusely for the delay before noticing his ex-teacher has brewed tea and claims a cup for himself, supplementing copious amounts of sugar. On Skywalker's recommendation, the Sith decides to take a chance. It's not bad, so he compliments it. The evening wraps up without an event. http://mattchasblog.blogspot.com/2012/05/experiments-with-re-roasting-stale.html?m=1

Later on, the bureaucrat invites the Jedi to attend a senate afternoon tea party. It's an opulent affair. Flowering (Gyokuro) tea with Jasmine flowers bloomed within transparent glass teapots sat next to elegantly designed tiered trays. On hundreds of tables, they rested; the flat surfaces were loaded with the first, second, and third courses, from petite pastries on the top to the tiny tea sandwiches on the bottom, the aggregate sum had been skillfully prepared for the guests. Palpatine had the wherewithal to afford a party grand enough to unsettle a Jedi. To his delight, he had succeeded.

Nearly everyone in attendance had been bequeathed a box of 16 Jasmine Pearls green tea blooms, the dried bundled ball of tea leaves and flowers would open like a plant in "bloom" when placed in hot water.

Kenobi had "accidentally" received 17, an unlucky number. In Roman numerals, 17 is XVII. One anagram for XVII is VIXI. In Latin, vixi means "I have lived," the implication being that the person(Obi-wan) is now dead. Jasmine is a plant that symbolizes purity and takes its name from the Persian word "Yasmine". This term translates to "gift from God". Put together; your death is a gift from God(the Sith'ari). Darth Sidious finds himself deeply amusing.

Obi-wan is grateful for the tea, especially since he's recently finished off his supply and always felt sheepish defending the expenditure to the Council. Official regulation dictates that he's not permitted to keep the gift. However, Jedi can distribute the donations to others in the order or, better still, add it to the communal ownership and shared at the temple. There are enough in the box for all parties to experience the high-end tea, so he gladly donates it to the Jedi temple and appreciates it along with everyone else. When Sidious hears what happened to his gift, he's pleased his secret message was brought to the rest of the Jedi as well.

Obi-Wan is averse to socializing with lawmakers in general and Palpatine in particular. Still, he makes a mental note to invite Chancellor to have tea with him again next time Anakin has them waiting for him as recognition for the expensive gift. Nevertheless, the opportunity doesn't come along until a few months later. Thankfully this time, the tea isn't stale. Unknown to Obi-wan, Anakin is in the middle of winning an illegal pod race. Skywalker wanted to purchase a present for Ahsoka, but as a Jedi, the lack of personal funds to his name meant he had to be creative if he wanted to show the people that meant the most to him how much he loved them, rules against attachments be damned.

This time he has Maghrebi mint tea. Traditionally the drink is sweetened, but he hasn't used sweetener. There is a bowl of rock sugar grown in the shape of tiny purple lightsabers on the counter. It was available if either party wanted to utilize the sweetener. The ingredients, as well as the tea, had come from Mace Windu.

Jedi were generally not meant to accept gifts from clients unless it's culturally necessary for them to do so. The tea was a regifted thank you gift from an ambassador. As the items couldn't be shared equally with everyone, Mace decided Obi-wan, as Anakin's minder had a more significant need for it.

After all the passive-aggressive messages he'd sent at the party, Sidious isn't expecting anything to receive any in return but still looks for any possible messages Obi-Wan might covertly send him through the tea anyway.

His actions don't seem to convey a particular message... unless Kenobi considered serving him a herbal tea that also happens to be an appetite suppressant is a message. Perhaps he intended to inform the wealthy politician that the Jedi felt Palpatine's tea party Palpatine had been too lavish and wanted him to know he'd offended the man utilitarian sensibilities, but that was likely a reach.

The tea itself was one of hospitality, meant to welcome guests by the male head of a family. As Kenobi poured the tea in three rounds as expected of tradition, he wondered if he had missed something and resolves to reflect on it more in the future. Each of the three rounds poured has a different meaning: life, love and death. The sugar represents the sweet aspects of life, and Sidious wonders as the sugar dissolves within his cup if the Jedi is aware of what he's saying about his life by going without it.

The Chancellor certainly knows the symbolism of prolonging the second cup to avoiding the third. Love as a concept was not something he neither wanted nor needed, but he had no fear of it. He drank to the idea without hesitance. If he played his cards right, Anakin's love would pave the way for the ascendancy of the Sith. As for death, he had designs on immortality. He would pass on even the metaphorical notion of his own demise.

When Anakin arrived, he doesn't go for any of the tea. He's tried the tea Mace had given his former master. It's tolerable, yet he has another target. Instead, he seizes the rock candy and laughs when Obi-wan protested that grinding on the purple sugar crystals might ruin his teeth. Nevertheless, he drops the bowl back on the counter after taking two and takes off with Palpatine.

Obi-wan is surprised the next day when the Chancellor has a package delivered that contains four(because four means death) kombucha starter kits(kombucha was considered to have "yang" energy in traditional Chinese medicine) and silver needle tea. As before, Obi-Wan gives the white tea to the temple, but he feels self-conscious. This incident marks the second time the Chancellor has given him something extravagant, and he feels like there are strings attached to the gift even if the politician hasn't said as much.

Politicians don't give gifts without reason—especially politicians who are not friends with the receiver.

Uncomfortable by the thought, he waited until one of his friends gifts him with tea. It's Bant who visits him first—intending to give her friend Pu'er tea(flavoured with dried honey ginger chamomile) she'd received at a medical conference. Obi-wan explains the situation and asks if he can send the tea to the diplomat as a sign of gratitude. Bant isn't bothered by the question and wishes him success.

Little does he know that although he intended nothing untoward with his regift, Palpatine had, after considering the possible implications, managed to be offended by it. Pu'er tea was often used to treat hangovers(among other things). His former teacher, Darth Plagueis, had once kept several kilos of it in his home. The muun would consume premium Poo Poo Pu-Erh Tea the morning after he'd had a night of excess on Sullustan wine. After he'd given the Jedi kombucha, a very mildly alcoholic beverage, he'd apparently proceeded to criticize the gift by implying he (Sidious) was a drunk who needed it. Indicating he shared the same weakness that had gotten the deceased Sith Lord murdered was exasperating, even if Obi-wan couldn't have identified the reason.

And that's when the situation becomes, for lack of a better word,"serious". Obi-wan thinks they're exchanging gifts, almost they're friends, but he's becoming increasingly frustrated because they're uneasy allies at best. Still, he doesn't want to feel like he owes the Chancellor anything, so the cycle begins anew. His financial circumstances still haven't changed, so he's been forced to regift a few presents from his friends to have something to present to the politician who won't leave him alone.

Kenobi is frustrated by this. He already spoke of the issue with several of his friends. Usually an honest man, he felt compelled to share what might happen to tea they might give him. Always while out of Anakin's earshot. They're sympathetic but unsure what could be done about the man who holds so much power, especially considering the relationship his former padawan has developed with the politician. It's difficult to entirely avoid the man without avoiding Skywalker, who would notice any attempts at evasion and likely take umbrage, even if the Chancellor did not.

Palpatine, for his part, is honestly surprised to learn how very snide Obi-wan appears. He can sense the Jedi's frustration building and is aware it's related to the tea. That said, he hasn't guessed the actual cause. Instead, he believes Kenobi has managed to guess at the intent of his gift and is ostensibly reacting to the Chancellor's actual message.

Amused, he no longer sends veiled death threats. If he does it one time too many time, someone at the temple, likely Yoda, will start asking awkward questions he doesn't want to answer. Yet, he continues to send hidden messages with the intent of antagonizing the Jedi as he proceeds to misread the situation. As the other Force-user's better, Darth Sidious refuses to be out-performed in a game of pettiness by Obi-wan Kenobi.

Anakin assumes they're just two older men who love tea and have found a way to bond over that. He's pleased to finally witness two people he respects burying the hatchet and getting along. Ahsoka doesn't have the heart to tell him that Obi-wan is not happy with whatever madness he's been dropped into. Madame has resigned herself to remaining silent regarding her husband's bond with her former friend. She no longer trusts the Chancellor and knows bringing up her feelings with Skywalker will only end in arguments with the man she loves.

Matters take a turn for the weird when Obi-wan receives cacao maca tea from Quinlan Vos. His fellow Jedi had gotten it from a secret admirer with a crush. After tests came back proving it wasn't poisoned, he'd given the herbal tea to his tea-loving friend.

Like most of the gifts he'd received lately, obi-wan presents it Palpatine. He wouldn't have the ability to keep up with the bizarre back and forth otherwise. He doesn't have the money. He's thankful his friends understand how much he dislikes the idea of being beholden to Palpatine and encourage his efforts to circumvent it.

What he'd failed to account for was the reaction he'd spark by presenting a herbal tea that was viewed, by some, to be an aphrodisiac. Obi-wan himself hasn't realized he'd done anything problematic. Vos hadn't mentioned maca had a reputation because he hadn't known himself. When he'd dropped it off, he'd simply named the vitamins the healers had said it contained.

Palpatine is confused. He's politically powerful and comes from a wealthy family, so it's hardly the first time anyone has been interested in pursuing him. However! Just the other month, they'd been politely abusing one another. There hadn't been any reason for the change.

Sidious can't decide Obi-wan attempting to insult his virility since maca is reported to help with reproductive health or if the Jedi is propositioning him. He hadn't thought Kenobi was interested in hate-based romantic overtures. That said, making mockeries of a sexual nature is astonishingly inappropriate given their positions. He wasn't offended, the possible slight was far too childish for him to take it sincerely, but he hadn't taken the General as the type of man who would make the insult in the first place. Complicating matters is the fact that the General is Anakin's former master.

He's hesitant to assume the situation would work out in his favour if the Jedi is twitterpated and if he should allow it... whatever it was, to persist. Would developing a relationship with Kenobi hasten Skywalker's fall to the dark side, or would the interaction convince the boy to turn his back on Darth Sidious.

Sexual relationships were irrational, messy little things and far more unpredictable than pretended friendship. He tended to avoid non-transactional sex due to the wildly unpredictable nature of the beast. If an uncompensated connection didn't service his ambition, didn't cultivate his power or influence, it was deemed irrelevant and discarded. An ill-defined situation occupied a troublesome grey area he despised, leaving him in something of a quandary on how to advance his agenda. Sidious knew he'd have to adopt a resolution expeditiously, and that inaction was as much a choice as any other.

#star wars #obi wan kenobi #sheev palpatine #obisheev

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justjstuff · 3 years

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For the ask game: I, L, R and S?

Thanks for the ask!!! <3

I - The last time I felt jealous, and why.

r: I honestly can't remember lmfao. Maybe it was back in 2020 before the whole pandemic thing and this Almost Something guy that at that point was an ex-Almost Something Guy was giving more attention to this friend of mine instead of me? Hmmm could have been that I was jealous of these two girls for moving abroad too xD Oh wait, I'm actually really jealous of everyone who's already vaccinated when my dad just got his first dose a couple of weeks back so things are awful over here.

L - If I have siblings.

r: Yes! I have an older sister, she's 5 years older than me and the reason I started reading fanfic haha I also have @calliartss who is my cousin but we're the same age so we basically grew up as sisters/best friends.

R - For me to tell 10 of my curiosities.

r: I thought this was about like "ten fun facts about me" but then I asked someone else about this and she answered as "ten things that interest me" and I much rather answer something like that so here goes:

1. People. As in, what makes people act certain ways, how we interact with each other, how different people manifest the same emotions in different ways, etc. All of this coming from a place of simple curiosity but also research for better characterization in my writing/acting.

2. Writing. Lol, ofc I had to put it there because it's just a huge part of who I am. I'm not even saying writing as only creating stories but also writing pros and cons lists to get my thoughts in order, writing sad passages about what's happening to me to get a little bit of relief from some overwhelming feelings and all that.

3. Folklore. I find it fascinating to read about ancient legends, how societies grew from them and how it still kinda influences them to this day. Did you know that all around the world there are myths and legends about dragons? And I mean, yeah it's cool and all, but I mean, these civilizations had absolutely no contact with each other. I'm talking about Mayans and Incas and Vikings and ancient Chinese people depicting the same creatures in their lore. It's interesting because it tells a story and it makes you wonder. Did they somehow did end up having contact with each other or did something else happen?

4. On that topic, Latin American history in specific. Our people has such a rich culture and it's sad that it's so unexplored and misinterpreted in many ways. When it does get some attention it's mainly about Incas/Mayas/Aztec people and South America often gets forgotten or depicted as brainless savages.

5. Still on that topic, space and mythology. As in, every myth has a little bit of truth and it makes me wonder sometimes. I'm a huge sci-fi fan, grew up watching Alien and Star Trek and shit so yeah xD

6. Heist movies. Also Mission movies in general. I love everything about them and I wish we had more lol.

7. Martial Arts. I love fighting and even though I've been a beginner all my life I find it really interesting to know different kinds and where they came from and why. I had a kendo lesson once in the temple in Kyoto where kendo was created with a teacher that was one of the last descendants of samurai and just... oh wow I really like martial arts lmao.

8. You see I'm slowly diverging into interests/things I like rather than things I'm curious about BUT let's just pretend I'm sticking to the script here. ART. I have a very intense urge to create sometimes and get seriously depressed when I don't for a while. I suck at drawing/painting but I love it hahah in 2019/2020 I was trying my hand at watercolor which is incredibly hard for me bc I'm an absolute control freak but it was also a very nice therapy for letting go and letting things run their course. Now in 2021 I started oil painting which is also incredibly hard but super relaxing and it's teaching me patience.

9. Traveling. Not in a oh let me see just how many different Hyatt hotels/resorts I can see the same inside in different places in the world way but more like... God how fucking privileged are we that we get to experience things like that??? Think about it, you get to taste a bit of someone else's culture, you get to walk through streets and forests that your ancestors wouldn't even dream of. And all of that you get to do it in a way that contributes to that particular culture's economy if you're careful about the way you go about it (where you stay, what restaurant you eat in, what store you're buying your clothes/trinkets, etc).

10. The internet. lol, lame I know but it follows the same line of thought from number 9 because look, I've made friends here with people whom I wouldn't ever get to know if the internet (and fandom) didn't exist and I just love how we can share experiences here and learn from each other and lean on each other and just... yeah, i'm soft about it haha

S - 2 habits.

1. Drink a bottle of water as soon as I wake up. I started this last year when I was in a really bad depressive loop and it honestly changed my life. It's about being mindful of what your body is doing and giving it a proper wake up. I don't do a lot of the things I probably should be doing but this is thankfully a habit I managed to keep.

2. Tea before bed. Tea at any and all time of the day, really, but it's really something that I miss when I can't do it (because I'm traveling or there's no more tea or whatever), just have a nice cuppa before bed, warm up and calm down and then Zzzzzzz xD

ask me a brutal honesty question

#ask #ask meme #answered

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catboymingi · 4 years

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the dragon’s appearance - veninder chap. 4

navi/masterlist

story masterlist

pairing: mingi x reader

genre: somewhat crack, a little angst, fluff (FLUFF in caps); eventual best friends to lovers

word count: 7.1k

warnings: slight language

a/n: i’m back on my bullshit and also making y/n’s background way more specific than it has to be but it's about the ~storybuilding~. also i am running out of lyrics to summarise the chapters with :(( recycling?

hun er gal, hun er syg, den pige - that girl’s crazy, she’s sick

mingi didn’t even need to ask who this was, the way she spoke up telling him all he needed to know. and if there had been any doubt, feeling you tense up next to him immediately after hearing her voice was confirmation that it was one of the girls that had dared to call themselves your friends despite how they treated you. he was, in all honesty, fuming at her audacity, but this wasn’t about him, it was about you and resolving the situation as quickly and easily as possible. so instead of giving in to his emotions he replied, voice raised just enough to guarantee the professor would hear him: “oh i’m so sorry, i didn’t know there was fixed seating! i just don’t know anyone but y/n, so i thought it’d be okay, sorry again!”

now it was the girl’s turn to fume, and even though you still refused to look up from your papers you could imagine how the steam was shooting out of her ears when the professor told him that it was okay, that seating was free and that he could stay right where he was. she left, sending him a look that could kill, but he didn’t care. this wasn’t his issue - he’d be able to deal with whatever she’d have planned for him. he was just worried about you, because even though she’d left to sit at the other end of the class by now you were still tense, staring at your desk as if you weren’t even really there. the redhead placed a hand on your knee, squeezing gently to comfort you and let you know he was there, that you’d be okay as long as he was there, but before he could say some reassuring words the professor started speaking, and he knew he had to be on his best behaviour because he wasn’t actually enrolled in this class. so he just squeezed again before listening intently to whatever was going on right now. he didn’t actually understand much, but when he saw that you still seemed so taken aback that you didn’t even seem to have realised that class already started he began writing down every single word the professor said, sometimes having to guess just what exactly the word was when it was some scientific term, but trying his best.

it took you a little while to snap out of the state of shock your ex-friend had caused you, and when you did you realised you had no idea what was even going on. your eyes turned to mingi, who was taking notes as if his life depended on it, and who, when he noticed you’d returned to the here and now, moved his arm slightly so you could see what he’d written down and hopefully catch up enough with the topic to participate from now on. your eyes widened when you realised he’d taken your notes for you and was still doing so right now until he could be sure you’d actually be able to decently concentrate, and now it was you who squeezed his knee, an act of thankfulness, before you shuffled a little closer to get at least a rough overview of the topic of this class.

his notes were taken meticulously; you were certain he’d written down every single word the professor said simply because he couldn’t tell whether or not something was important or not. and these notes managed to get you back on track after maybe a minute or two of reading through them and listening to what was going on right now, and another minute later you were able to be your usual, question-filled self. mingi still didn’t exactly understand much of what you were discussing, but he felt like you had a much more straightforward way to talk about concepts, which didn’t make your points any less valid, though. you weren’t dumbing down anything, you just left out the unnecessarily elitist terms that he knew were so common in academia, so even he felt like he got a rough grasp of what was going on. it didn’t take much to see that you were a teacher’s favourite, and rightfully so - you brought up a lot of concerns, different points of view on what had just been talked about, and even to him, someone that had no idea about the topic, it was clear that you had a very diverse way of looking at the problem or topic and actually thought a lot about what you learned rather than just learning it by heart to pass the course. you seemed excited, interested, fully immersed in the topic, and it was through these discussions that he found out that you spoke at least three languages well enough to offer a different perspective on sociolinguistics based on their cultures and how the cultural norms found realisation in the respective language. he wasn’t sure if this was the average for this course, though, and he was the only odd one out, or if you were actually extraordinarily skilled in the language department. though it didn’t matter much to him, because either way he felt like you were a genius and he was a mere peasant watching two experts talk. not that he minded - this wasn’t his major, so of course he wouldn’t be able to engage in the same kinds of discussions as students who’d studied this for roughly a year already. he was just very impressed.

before you knew it (and before he knew it, which was maybe more surprising) class was over, and the redhead gave you the notes he’d taken for you earlier since he wouldn’t need them anyway.

“thank you so much for that”, you told him, smiling shyly because you were still kind of embarrassed that he’d had to take notes for you.

“i just hope they help” was all he replied, because it wasn’t a big deal to him at all. when you packed your things he noticed that the girl from earlier was staring at you, and to prevent you from looking around to see if she was he put his arm around you, guiding you out of the classroom like that while distracting you by asking just how many languages you even spoke.

“depends on how you see it?” not the reply he’d expected - you could speak a language but not speak it by matter of definition? it was probably a language major thing.

“give me the biggest number you can with a definition that makes you happy”, he told you, because he wanted to be impressed. not that three languages wasn’t already impressive, but you’d made it sound like there was more, and he was curious to find out more about that.

“if we count just being conversational, and we also count classical languages… like, eight? though my parents are immigrants so that doesn’t really count, because two of those eight i didn’t really have to learn, we speak them at home. three, actually, now that i think about it. i was the only kid in first grade that barely even spoke korean.” you laughed at the memory, but mingi looked at you wide-eyed.

“which ones do you speak?”

“finnish and swedish from home - my father is finnish, we moved here because he got a job at the embassy. and my mother is finnish as well, but with swedish as her first language, and she made it a hobby to annoy my father by speaking swedish with me when she was plotting something. then english, korean, i took japanese in high school but i think everyone did? some classical chinese because there was no way i’d be able to figure out hanja without that, latin from my mother because she thought it was important for whatever reason, and german just for fun. how about you?” and even though he was a little embarrassed about his in comparison depressingly low amount of languages spoken he told you, because you seemed excited to know, because he could tell languages were a big passion of yours.

“korean, obviously, and english, and i took some chinese in high school but wasn’t the best, so i’m pretty sure i forgot most of it.”

“is there any you’d really like to learn?”

he furrowed his brows at that question. was there? it wasn’t something he’d thought about, and now he was desperately searching his brain for any language he’d ever been interested in even when it wasn’t mandatory. you noticed his expression, though, and chuckled a little.

“it’s fine if there isn’t, you don’t have to make one up.”

“sorry. how about you?”

“there’s too many”, you laughed, “i’d learn all of them if i could, and i’m trying my best to actually at least start with that. but if i have to pick just one… maybe russian? or arabic? i’ve been interested in french, too. and spanish. this is too hard!” you were whining, unable to pick just one, and mingi thought it was adorable. he was grinning like some kind of idiot because he’d managed to distract you, to seemingly entirely remove the fear from your mind at least for now. you were either smiling or pouting, your eyes wide and excited, and he felt like he’d gotten to know you a lot better just through this conversation already.

when you arrived at the table the other boys were already sitting at for lunch you were still talking about languages, rambling on about your childhood and how weird it was to realise that on top of the three languages you were already frequently speaking with your parents there was a whole other language that everyone else spoke and that, while you could understand it, you had no idea how to speak. he was just listening, sometimes humming in acknowledgment, sometimes commenting or asking about a story, but mainly happy to hear about your experiences, and you were so immersed in the conversation that you didn’t want to stop, because he actually seemed to care about what you were saying.

“hey!” was the only acknowledgment anyone that wasn’t mingi got before you resumed your story.

“when they taught us about hanja, i thought i was going to die. hangeul was already so hard to write because everything is so small and then the new characters were even smaller!” the boy nodded in either acknowledgment or agreement, you weren’t sure, but it didn’t matter all too much to you, anyway.

“how is hangeul small?”, jongho asked; your comment had apparently piqued his interest.

“you put so many sounds into where a single letter goes in latin script!” you sounded so exasperated, but the others didn’t have the context of you not having grown up with korean as your first language yet, so they didn’t understand where the problem was. to them, hangeul was the regular character size and it seemed like it didn’t even occur to them that it might have caused problems for you.

“she speaks eight languages!”, the giant next to you offered as an explanation, and while it didn’t exactly clear up your distress about the korean script it did make it a little more understandable, considering how most languages (that they knew of) did offer a little more space for their sounds or letters.

“my mother read to me in swedish, and my parents taught me how to read and write swedish and finnish before i ever even realised that there’s more than one alphabet”, you clarified further, and now it seemed like a lightbulb had been lit above the boys’ heads.

“you’re not korean?”

“technically i am? i have dual citizenship. but my parents aren’t born here, if that’s what you meant.” the faces around you all bore the same expression of surprise at the information they just got, six ‘o’ shaped mouths and six pairs of wide eyes looking at you.

“say something funny!”

“jokin hassu. or något roligt, in swedish.” their eyes got even wider and san asked you what you’d just said.

“something funny?”

“yeah, but what does it mean?” it seemed like he was impatient, not realising that ‘something funny’ was in fact the translation of what you’d said.

“it means ‘something funny’. that’s the translation”, you grinned. “i didn’t know what else to say, so i just translated it.”

now oohs and aahs could be heard from around you, and they soon gave you sentence after sentence to translate, watching you as if you were an interactive tv programme.

seonghwa put an end to the fun when he reminded them that you hadn’t even started eating yet, and everyone started apologising immediately, but you just waved it off. it was nice to get to speak the languages you grew up with again, because you certainly didn’t do so with your parents, with whom you barely had any contact anymore at all. but now you should probably eat, if the growl in your stomach was a sign to go by - you could always do this again later.

“how was class?”, hongjoong asked with a slight hint of worry in his voice while you were eating, but he was surprised when you smiled at him without even the slightest hint of any negative emotion.

“it was good! though mingi really saved my butt.” you sounded a little embarrassed, and reasonably so - everyone was once more looking at you wide-eyed.

“you went to class with her?” it seemed like it was impossible for wooyoung to control his volume when he was excited or surprised, so he was near yelling the question at mingi, who by now seemed equally embarrassed as you.

“yeah. it was kinda fun, actually.” now the number of surprised eyes staring at him increased by another pair, because you hadn’t expected him to actually like your class when he didn’t even understand the topic.

“she’s a teachers’ favourite”, he then informed the others teasingly, and you playfully hit his arm.

“i’m not!” you genuinely didn’t think you were. you just asked questions when you wanted an elaboration, and participated in discussions when the professor started them. but you weren’t trying to make the teacher like you by acting a certain way; you were just genuinely interested in the topic, and it was hard for you to shut up when you got so invested in something.

“she is”, the redhead said in an exaggeratedly conspiratorial way, “and she’s a genius, too.”

now you yelped out his name - you didn’t like it when people praised you like this, because you didn’t feel like you deserved it and because it made you a little uncomfortable, made you feel like you were now expected to live up to the impression others had of you even when you couldn’t. but those feelings quickly subsided at his next words, being replaced with a mixture of shock and disbelief.

“do you think you could teach me the basics so i could take that class as extra credits?”

“you’re joking.” you absolutely would not believe that he meant it, no way. he had no reason to mean it. sitting in a class where he didn’t have any idea about what’s going on while you all but ignored him in order to talk with the professor couldn’t possibly have been nice enough for him to want to do that weekly.

“it’s your choice, obviously, but i think it’d be fun.” a smile accompanied his words, a smile that wiped out any doubt you’d had.

“i can try? no promises that i’m a good teacher, though.” and while you appreciated the bright grin you got in response the boy appreciated his friends’ reactions a lot less.

he felt his phone buzz and saw it was a message in their private group chat, from yunho.

[saint bernard]: someones WHIPPED

and everyone was quick to agree, which awakened the carnal urge to commit a crime in mingi, a crime that would reduce the amount of people in ‘hyung hate club’ to him and you only. he stopped himself before any blood was flowing, though, both because crimes are illegal and because he didn’t want you to witness that. but no promises could be made for when they were home alone, no one there to witness and frame him.

“put your phones away, it’s rude”, he ordered in a desperate attempt to get them to stop grinning at each other the way they were now before you’d notice anything, and because his attempt was a success he considered maybe leaving them alive. maybe.

the rest of lunch break was spent joking around and teasing each other, and ended with mingi asking you to text him the room where you’d have your last class so he could pick you up. and even though you were still anxious about being in class by yourself, with the people that obviously wanted to ruin your life, the fact that your first class had gone so well reassured you a little, making you feel like maybe it’d be okay for the rest of the day as well.

and it was, surprisingly. you were shot angry glares and had insults whispered at you in passing, but nothing bigger than that happened, maybe owed to mingi’s obvious protective attitude earlier. while they knew they’d easily be able to take on you, the giant was a whole other question. he hadn’t seemed intimidated at all, calm and collected, so they couldn’t even turn his reaction around on him. and the new situation required a new approach, which meant that they’d have to cut you some slack until that new approach had been developed. you knew this, too, knew that the current somewhat peaceful situation was a mere side effect of them having to adjust to the change in circumstances, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t enjoy it while it lasted. you were very aware of the fact that this could all too soon be over again.

still, you managed to enjoy the rest of your classes as well, and when you left the room after the last one had ended and saw a certain redhead waiting for you, as he’d promised, you smiled at him, and first when you saw his shoulders drop a little did you notice that he’d been nervous as well. but at least for now there was no need to, you were okay and nothing had happened. you still wanted to get away from the girls as soon as possible, though, so as soon as you’d said hi to him you took off, him following you quietly until you’d left the building.

“you’re okay?” it had seemed like you were when you came out of class, but your quick exit had sparked some worry in him again.

“a little anxious”, you let him know, “but nothing happened. it’s more being scared that something will happen.”

he nodded in understanding, wrapping his arm around you without thinking much about it and once more somewhat embarrassed when he noticed what he’d just done, but you just moved a step closer to him so it’d be more comfortable for him. then, you sighed, but he decided to ignore it, not sure if you wanted to talk about whatever had caused that sigh. when you sighed a second and a third time, however, each time louder than the last, he decided to ask.

“what’s up?” the way it sounded like the worry had sneaked its way back into his voice had you feeling a little guilty, seeing how there wasn’t actually anything up. you just wanted to tease him.

“you’re just so unfairly tall, i feel like i’m your arm rest.”

since this wasn’t at all the reply he’d expected it took him a moment to fully realise what you’d said, but when he did he started laughing before walking on with his knees somewhat bent, reducing not only his height but also his speed. now you were laughing as well, enjoying his awkward crouching walk more than you maybe should.

“i really hope you appreciate this”, he interrupted your laughter, “because this does kind of hurt my thighs.” you didn’t stop laughing at this, but you crouched down a little as well now, readjusting his arm on your shoulders before pulling him up with you when you stood up straight again.

“maybe i’ll just have to start wearing platforms again instead”, you thought out loud, your laughing faded into a grin now. then, changing the topic entirely, you asked: "do you actually want to join my class? you'd have to catch up with a lot."

“if you’re willing to waste all your time helping me try to catch up?”

“if you’re ready for me to never shut up ever?” this wasn’t an exaggeration; you’d annoyed the girls more than once by studying with them and being way more immersed in the topic than them, even though you all shared similar majors and the class was relevant to all of you. so you couldn’t help being scared that he’d get annoyed with you as well, seeing how this class wasn’t even relevant to him, and you tried to test the waters by joking like this. but he grinned at you, saying that worst case he’d just feed you fruit loops to buy him a few seconds of silence.

“no but the more you talk the more i learn, that’s how it works, right?”

“mm, maybe? i haven’t tried teaching anyone yet, so we’ll have to see”, you admitted a little anxiously. you’d be happy if you managed to help him catch up enough to join the class, but you weren’t exactly confident in your teaching abilities.

“wanna start today?” mingi’d noticed that you were almost at the train station now, so if he wanted to spend the evening studying with you he’d have to ask before you got in your trains going opposite directions.

“i can’t offer you any decent dinner, though. i forgot to get groceries this week so the options are limited to toast, fruit loops, and instant ramen. in case that makes you change your mind.” you wanted to tell him now before he got disappointed by how little you had to offer even as a host, and because if you told him now it’d be less embarrassing to reveal your pathetically empty cupboards when you were at your place.

and he could tell that you were a little embarrassed about the apparent lack of food choices, so he tried to cheer you up.

“is it even a study session without instant ramen?” he genuinely meant it, too - studying and instant food kind of belonged together, the instant food being an important part of what made a study session feel like a real study session. it was about the vibes, not the nutrition.

“okay”, you laughed, then added: “next time we can go somewhere else, too, i just obviously don’t have all my materials with me right now.”

“your place is fine”, he was quick to reassure you. if anything, he was worried that you might feel awkward about having him there again. it wasn’t exactly like you were close, though it sometimes felt that way to him and he had to remind himself that you’d only met half a week ago.

you were once more being prevented from paying for your own ticket by mingi, who’d already paid when you just got your wallet out, and you scoffed at him playfully.

“you know i can pay for myself, right?”

“but i’m being a gentleman.” and with that, he considered this discussion done.

severe buzzing from your phone startled you when you were sitting next to the redhead on the train, because you’d forgotten you’d just muted the girl chat for 24 hours rather than fully leaving it, and your 24 hours were up now. it was as active as ever, and though it seemed like the current topic was unrelated to you just the thought of still being in this kind of space with them made you feel sick with anxiety. but you were too scared to leave the chat, so instead you just stared at your screen.

“it’s them again?” of course he noticed. you just nodded, leaning against him in exhaustion with him gently rubbing your arm.

“we have a group chat and i want to leave, but i can’t.” it was absolutely stupid to feel this way, you knew it was, because what was scaring you wasn’t no longer being in the group chat, it was the act of pressing the little ‘leave group’ button with your own finger.

“you can’t leave or you can’t not be in it?” he surprised you with how he actually seemed to understand your struggle, the very important distinction between the conscious act of leaving and the passive state of not being in the chat.

“i can’t leave. this is our stop.”

he didn’t reply when you left the train, but once you’d started walking towards your dorm he asked you: “do you think i could leave for you? would that work?” you told him you didn’t know, because you really didn’t and you also didn’t really want to think about this at all right now. you wanted to be home, in your bed, with instant ramen and focusing on nothing but how to make mingi understand, remember and internalise the basics of sociolinguistics. it was an act of escapism, definitely, but sometimes you just needed to pretend your problems didn’t exist until you were ready to deal with them.

the rest of the walk was spent in silence, though not uncomfortably so. you both seemed to be in your own thoughts, arms brushing against each other every now and then as if to remind each other that you were still there, even when you weren’t talking. it was nice to know that you didn’t have to talk when you were spending time with mingi, that just being near each other was already enough sometimes.

and just this being silent with each other was what managed to in a way comfort you enough for you to be able to fully concentrate on your materials once you’d reached your place, asking him whether he wanted to eat first or study first as you unlocked the door.

“let’s start with studying, and when i feel like my head’s exploding we’ll eat?”

“deal. make yourself comfortable, i’ll hunt for all my notes.” and with that said you proceeded to ignore the giant that had now settled on your bed in favour of groaning and sighing while you tried to gather all the relevant material from the last year, a task made more difficult because he most likely didn’t have any linguistic background, so you also went through your notes from other courses to find those that had the basic linguistic terms explained on them, because there was no use telling him about phoneme variations if he didn’t know what a phoneme was, and you wanted to be sure to give a 100% right definition.

once you’d found everything you needed you sat down next to him, now trying to divide the notes by topic so you’d have a better overview over what you had to teach him and how much it’d be. he whined quietly next to you at the sheer amount of paper you’d spread on the bed - how was he going to learn all of that?

“we’ll start easy”, you laughed out at his desperate expression. “you can pick the topic that seems most interesting to you, and we’ll start with that.”

then you listed the topics available, along with a short summary or explanation of just what was hidden behind a term like chronolect, which he decided to go with because he thought that might be easiest to a total beginner, because he obviously knew how people of different ages talked, right?

not right. he soon found everything to be much more complicated than it sounded, but he was determined to learn, and you really appreciated how hard he was trying. you knew it had to be hard for him, but he didn’t seem to want to even take a break until he understood, and it was actually you who told him it was time to eat.

“i didn’t think it would be so hard when we’ve barely even started yet”, he groaned while you were waiting for the food to be done, and before you could stop yourself a ‘that’s what she said’ escaped your lips, which made mingi look at you in shock before he burst out laughing.

“i didn’t know that’s what you were thinking about while i was trying to learn!”, he said in feigned indignation, and you hit his arm playfully as you pretended to be equally as scandalised by his implication as he was by yours.

“i don’t know if my memory is giving up on me here, but wasn’t it you who asked me to spend the night together? twice?”

you heard him gasp loudly in reply and grinned at his expression.

“i didn’t know you’d use that against me!” there was a mixture of shock and hurt in his voice, though very obviously playful, and you immediately started apologising in an exaggerated manner, pleading him to please forgive you for your careless words. and even though he tried to stay serious the pout on your face and the fact that you looked like the pleading face emoji made that impossible, stern expression turning into a small smile turning into a grin turning into laughing with his mouth wide open and head thrown back in a matter of seconds. and then you were lost, too, joining in and laughing until your stomach hurt and the instant ramen demanded your attention.

when you found him looking through the notes you’d used for studying by himself it surprised you, though in a positive way. you were glad to see that he at least seemed to have caught a genuine interest for the subject now, glad to see that he was eager to learn. still, you asked him to please move the notes away so you could eat without the risk of them getting dirty and, consequently, unusable. he did as requested and you sat down next to him as soon as you’d handed him his plate - past experience had taught you that shuffling to comfortably sit on the bed when you had an open container in both hands was a very bad idea.

the two of you ate in silence and went back to studying right after, and it was first when you heard thundering outside that you realised how much time had passed. it was fully dark now, heavy rain hitting the window and lightning lighting up the sky every now and then. neither of you looked pleased at the weather, though mingi a lot less so, considering he was the one that somehow had to get home. and it really didn’t seem like the rain would stop anytime soon.

“i’m gonna be so soaked when i get home”, he whined out, making you feel sorry for him because he was right, not even a minute outside in this weather would have him drenched to the bones.

“you can stay over if it’s still like this in an hour”, you offered, not thinking much about it, your main thought being less about him staying with you specifically and more about him not having to go out when it would most likely result in him getting sick. you came to regret your offer when he looked at you with a teasing glint in his eyes, though.

“so now you’re asking me to stay the night? when you called me out for having improper thoughts earlier because i’d offered you the same?”

you rolled your eyes in reply, grabbing his wrist and attempting to drag him out of your bed.

“you know what, forget it, if you get pneumonia that’s not my problem.” at your threat the redhead did a 180 on his behaviour, now begging you the way a little child begged for an extension on their bedtime, except he was begging you to not send him out into the cruel, unrelenting, cold harsh wind. and even though you pretended to be considering doing so you knew that if he actually wanted to he could most definitely spend the night. it was just fun to tease him back.

“fine”, you finally gave in, “you can stay. but behave!”

he sighed in relief (as if there’d ever been any doubt about that), promising you he’d be on his best behaviour, and, as if to prove it, went to do the dishes for you. you knew you wouldn’t be able to stop him because he was at least half a head taller than you and without a doubt much stronger, but it was still worth a try. you should have known it’d barely even bother him, though, pulling on his shirt and trying to drag him back towards the bed, to no avail. he walked on as if he couldn’t even tell that you were trying to move him with every ounce of strength you had in your body, but the grin on his face told you that he knew, and that he was enjoying this too much for your liking. you decided to let him get away with it either way, this once, because truth be told you hated doing the dishes, hated the sensory hell it proved itself to be, time and time again.

you watched him ‘be on his best behaviour’, trying to come up with a way to prevent the situation from turning awkward should the weather not magically turn around, but the only thing your brain could come up with was watching a movie; that’d have to do then. he didn’t seem displeased with the suggestion, finishing washing up quickly and once again sprinkling some water onto your face.

“‘best behaviour’ my ass”, you huffed under your breath, but of course mingi heard you, sending you a smile that with a lot of benevolence could be interpreted as apologetic, but if you were feeling unrelenting might also be a teasing one. he was on your bed and patting the space next to him as is this were his place, though, before you had a chance to threaten him with kicking him out again, and, even though you would deny it if anyone were to claim it, the way he looked so comfortable and somewhat domestic made you a little soft. not very, but just enough to let his teasing slip as you settled next to him.

that position was soon neglected in favour of you sitting between his legs as you found that that was more comfortable for watching a movie. one of you had been complaining no matter where you’d placed the laptop before, because it always gave the one that wasn’t currently complaining a better view. but when you were sitting like this you could just place it right in front of you, and because your friend was so tall he could easily rest his chin on your shoulder without it being uncomfortable at all, and now you both were able to decently see.

you hadn’t decided on a movie yet, though, scrolling the ‘popular right now’ section to get any kind of idea. there was one that seemed interesting enough, kind of dramatic (which was needed because you were not about to watch a romcom with the unfairly attractive redhead pressed against your back like that), and you clicked on it to see the preview since it had sparked your curiosity. as soon as you saw the description you noticed it was a horror movie, though, trying to exit out before anything scary would actually appear on screen.

you succeeded, but your frantic clicking had confused the boy behind you - your netflix was set to finnish, so he didn’t actually understand the caption, but when you told him you’d accidentally chosen a horror movie’s preview rather than a regular dramatic movie he sighed out in relief.

“thank fuck you closed that.”

“not a fan of horror movies either, hm?” you weren’t trying to tease him, and the question sounded like more of an observation. you absolutely hated horror movies, with every fibre of your being, hated the jumpscares and the gore and how you wouldn’t be able to sleep without light for at least a week after. so you found yourself relieved when he told you that he’d have to have his eyes pried open forcefully if someone wanted him to watch one, because at least this way you could be sure he’d never suggest watching one, nor would he make fun of you for being scared.

your thoughts were momentarily guided in a whole other direction though when your partner in being a coward leaned forward, chest pressed even closer to your back and also forcing you to basically fold yourself in the middle underneath his weight as he pointed towards a section title he would in no way be able to pronounce.

“choose from that one.” it was the kids’ movies section, but you had no objections. it was neither a romcom nor a horror movie, the only two genres that were a hard no for you right now. still, you found it hard to do as asked because the way he was leaning forward had your chest almost pressed against your legs and greatly limited your arms’ moving range.

“it’d be easier if you weren’t crushing me”, you whined out, trying to get him to lean back by pressing against him with your back, and with a surprised ‘oh!’ he did lean back, finally giving you room to move again.

“let’s see”, you hummed out, now scrolling the kids’ movies section. you didn’t really know which one to pick, though - kids’ movies weren’t really your usual kind of movie, so it wasn’t like you had a go-to favourite. it seemed like mingi noticed, because he decided to interrupt your aimless scrolling by speaking up, surprising you with his question.

“is there anything you watched as a child? something that’s not korean.”

you didn’t need to think long about this - the moomins immediately shot to your mind, something you’d watched up and down as a child.

“i’m not sure if they’ve ever been dubbed to korean, though”, you informed him, “but i can see?” and without waiting for his reply you abandoned netflix in favour of google, where you hoped that your phonetic interpretation of how moomin would be spelled using hangeul was at least close enough for the search engine to do the rest for you.

you were both glad and somewhat astonished when you did actually get results for your search, clicking on the first video that seemed about as long as you remembered the movie to be and leaning back against the taller one’s chest as you felt nostalgia wash over you. and it was the actual movie, though not dubbed - someone had added korean subtitles, and the finnish speech only made your nostalgia stronger. you were comfortable, head leaning against mingi and his arms around your waist because that was the least awkward place for them to be, underneath your blanket in the dim light coming from your laptop, warm and cosy and, before you knew it, lulled to sleep by the comfortingly familiar sounds of your childhood.

the red-haired male didn’t even notice that you’d fallen asleep, thinking that you were simply just as immersed in the movie as he was, until he tried to tell you that he needed the bathroom and you didn’t reply. peeking over to your face he saw that your eyes were closed and your mouth slightly ajar, and a fond smile made its way onto his face. still, his bladder wouldn’t let him not wake you up, and he felt incredibly guilty when he had to disturb your slumber.

“sorry, but i got big girl business to do”, he told you quietly, and even though you were slightly annoyed at being woken up you laughed at the memory of how that was the first thing you’d heard from him, that his business was big girl business. you paused the movie and shuffled to let him get up, but before he went to the bathroom he asked: “do you want to go to sleep now or finish the movie?”

your heart said movie but your other heart, the one that regularly had you give in to your body’s wicked desires (such as an entire bag of crisps in a single second) said sleep, and once more that heart won. you mumbled out a sleep and he smiled at you, telling you to get ready while he was in the bathroom, then.

getting into your pyjamas was an act in and of itself, because you absolutely did not want to move at all. you did it, though, forcing yourself into the admittedly much softer fabric before plopping right back onto your bed.

when the boy returned (once more shirtless, and you weren’t sure if that was to your dismay or your delight) he would’ve guessed you hadn’t even moved, had it not been for the fact you were wearing something else than when he’d left you. the laptop was closed now, though, placed in the empty space underneath your bed so stepping on it would be avoided even if someone had to get up during the night in a half-awake state.

you shuffled to make room for him as he made his way towards the bed slowly, room lit only by the street lamps outside now. he laid down next to you, looking at you for a moment before the drowsiness-induced desire for cuddles and warmth won over the embarrassment that would have securely prevented a less tired mingi from saying what he said next.

“can i hug you?”

and because you were at least equally sleepy and in need of a warm embrace you just ‘mhm’ed in confirmation, resulting in both a long arm and an even longer leg wrapped around you immediately after. you turned to your back because it was slightly uncomfortable like this, laying on your side facing him, and he didn’t waste a single second before he placed his head on your shoulder, the arm on that side holding on to him now, too. you felt warm and cosy (and soft at the thought of the giant cuddled up to your much smaller frame like this) and it didn’t take long for you to fall asleep again, once more unnoticed by mingi, who had almost immediately fallen asleep as well.

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pinkydec · 4 years

Text

Parum Stella

Summary: The three times the stars in Reggie's eyes went out and the one time they came back forever.

Pairing: So there’s referenced Willie/Alex and Julie/Luke but nothing set in stone

Warning; Angst, mentioned child abuse, depression, suicidal thoughts, there is some fluff tho, canon character death, death of grandparents

AN/ parum stella translates to little star! (i’m not fluent in latin so this maybe incorrect.

Words: 6140.

The stars had always been his and his grandad’s thing. His grandad used to tell the story of when he was first born, the stars twinkled like no other as his mum and dad took him home from the hospital. It was like a new star had been born and that the stars were twinkling in celebration. Every summer from the first year he was born till just after his twelfth birthday he would spend with his grandparents on their ranch.

It wasn’t that his mum and dad weren’t unfit to be parents at that point, they just worked so much that he would always have babysitters round and when his grandparents found out they made a deal with his parents that he would spend every summer and spring break with them. His first summer he was only a few months old when he first went to the ranch, his grandmother told him a few years later that he clocked on to one of the horses and cried when they tried moving him away.

Summers were fun on the ranch, a lot more fun than it was being stuck at home in his bedroom trying to hide away from his parent’s arguments. He would spend all day helping his grandad with the animals, making sure that all of them were clean, fed and had plenty of water down. He taught him to horse ride, starting him off with an American Shetland Pony which he nicknamed Boo, when he was younger because he couldn’t pronounce the ponies full first name.

He named every single animal on the ranch, making sure to do a drawing of each individual animal on the farm, noting the differences that only he could tell on the drawings. After working on the farm all day, his grandad would bring him outside, wrapped up in his blanket with a cup of hot cocoa his grandmother had made as a reward for his hard work through the day.

They’d sit on the steps of the ranch, him curled into his grandads’ side, seeking the warmth as the coldness of the night began to sit down. His grandad, an ex-astronaut who had to retire after an injury training while he was training for Apollo 11, would point out all of the stars, passing his knowledge of the constellations and facts about the solar system and Reggie’s young mind soaked it all in.

His grandad was his best friend. He loved his grandmother to pieces, but, growing up each summer he followed his grandad around like a lost puppy. He hung of every single word that came out his older relatives’ mouth and unlike his parents who would’ve yelled at him to shut up and go away, his grandad loved it. He took him around everywhere, teaching him how to milk the cows and brush the horses correctly.

Every single time his grandad had to go to town he took Reggie with him. He was right there with his side, which helped his grandad when he was trying to sell products from the farm, because everyone loved this puppy eyed little boy that would chew your ear off if you gave him the chance to. Everyone knew him as the little assistant who arrived each summer and seemed to gleam with brightness whenever he spoke to someone, the glittering of his eyes almost matching the glittering of the stars he loved so much.

Most children his age would hate being away from their friends and their parents for that long, but Reggie thrived off it. He’d arrive back home a few days before the school term started, the brightness in his eyes seeming to be turned up to another level, full of stories ready to be told and those first few weeks he was back he was riding on a high.

Leaving the ranch was always hard though, he was so attached both to his grandparents and the animals of the ranch. He made sure in his last few days to go around saying goodbye to each and every one of them and giving them a treat. The first day he was home would be one of the saddest days of the year and both Alex and Luke, his best friends since they were in pre-school knew not to bother him on that day, he was grieving the happy atmosphere he got at his grandparents ranch and trying to prepare himself ready for his parents arguing all the time.

His biggest helpers in cheering him up from the next day were both Luke and Alex. The three of them were inseparable, having not seen each other as a three for a full summer. They spent their last remaining days before school started again with each other. They played on the beach together, they went for bike rides and traded stories of their summer, the laughter and happiness bright in their eyes.

The summer of their eighth year, they all made a pact that they’d start learning an instrument, so they could join the elementary school music programme. Reggie swapped between piano and banjo, something both his grandparents had taught him, his grandmother would play piano most of the evenings he was there and she was soon teaching him and his grandad had been playing banjo on off for years, Luke had started with piano himself, the two of them comparing notes they had from the summer together when they were reunited. Alex had started with a basic drum set, but he was killing it.

They kept developing their skills further and further as they went up to middle school, and then just two weeks before he was due to go to his grandparents for the summer between the sixth and seventh grade, his grandparents were killed in a fire at the ranch, destroying majority of the property and for the first time in his life, the stars in Reggie’s eyes died.

By the time Reggie was 17, the stars were back. They were brighter than ever before. His grandparents passing hit him hard and it took a while for him to be able to look at the stars again, whenever night-time hit in the summer he would shrink into himself and go quiet. He also refused to touch either piano or banjo for two years. The memories were so tightly wound inside of him, the music flowing as he sat next to his nana on the piano, giggles flowing out of the youngest of the three as his grandfather danced around the piano, strumming the banjo.

He wouldn’t be who is now without them. It took time, but from help from Luke and Alex and their new friend Bobby, he regained his strength and was able to look at the stars once again. Stars which once again brought him comfort and a warmth in his chest, rather than the agony and heartache which blossomed across his chest for the first year after they died.

About six months after his grandparents passed away, his music teacher sat him down and spoke to him about what he wanted to, because as much as Alex and Luke had been trying to get him to play piano or play the banjo, it just wasn’t happening. He just couldn’t do it without seeing his grandparents. So, his music teacher suggested he started a new instrument. Which he did. He started learning bass guitar and he fell in love with music again.

They met Bobby when he moved schools at the start of high school. He’d been expelled from his last school for trying to protect his friend, so he joined the school not knowing anyone. The three of them ended up talking to him when they were in music and he ended up joining the friendship group. They carried on playing and decided to start writing and playing music together, even though they could only currently afford to play at school, Alex had persuaded his parents to buy him a set of drums for his birthday and they were held in Bobby’s garage and Bobby had his own guitar but neither Luke or Reggie had their own guitars, Luke’s parents refused to buy him one as they believed he should be concentrating on his school work and the one time Reggie asked his parents if he could get one, he ended up in hospital getting stitches from a glass being chucked his way.

Reggie soon managed to pick up a weekend job, babysitting Alex’s younger siblings twice a week. Only it wasn’t really a job to him, he loved hanging out with the kids, and Alex to an extent. He fell back in love with stars one October night when he was babysitting them. Alex’s younger sister Alice was fast asleep upstairs, when Alex’s younger brother Adam snuck downstairs and joined both of them sat on the porch, watching the stars, cuddled in between them both.

Adam started pointing out the different stars, which for once were visible and as Reggie began explaining all of them, he fell back in love. He pictured not that long ago when it was him and his grandad sat there, in the exact same position and It was that moment he knew, as long as he kept his love for the stars up, his grandparents memories would always be with him.

Little did he see his best friends fond gaze as his eyes lit up with happiness explaining to the youngest boy about the different constellations. Alex knew his best friend had struggled coming to terms with his grandparents passing and that he lost part of himself when they died, but as his best friend explained it all to his little brother, the passion and the part of him that he’d been lost since that horrible summer day fell back into place.

Nothing could ever bring Reggie’s grandparents back, but they could keep their memories alive. He was hooked again, and it showed. The happiness bled into his music as well and their practices became more vibrant and blooming with colour, them ignoring the fact that Reggie’s parents were arguing more than ever, that Alex’s wouldn’t speak to him unless Reggie was round babysitting, Luke’s were constantly on his back about college and Bobby’s were constantly at work.

It also got better when they surprised Luke with an acoustic guitar for his 17th birthday, Reggie had been getting more and more babysitting jobs thanks to Alex’s parents spreading the word and between him, Alex and Bobby they were able to cough up the money for it. Reggie was also able to buy his own bass guitar and they were able to start rehearsing in Bobby’s garage and attending gigs.

The happiness was flowing out of Reggie and into the other boys, expanding further when they got the call to say they were playing the Orpheum, it was hard to keep them calm in the weeks leading up to it. They just vibrated through life, it was like nothing else mattered besides that, it was the first step to the rest of their lives.

The night before they were due to play the Orpheum, the four of them clambered into Bobby’s van, the oldest of the group had got his licence first and drove them all to a field. It was late at night, but it was the best spot to see the stars. They’d organised a band night under the stars. A sense of normality before their lives changed for good.

It was rare at times to see the stars, the light pollution often hiding them from view. They’d come to this exact same spot the day Bobby got the van, the day they could really start going to gigs. Everything was going to change then, and everything was going to change now. It was everything they’d ever wanted, and it was within arms-reach.

They were laying side by side, Alex and Luke on the outside, Bobby, and Reggie on the inside, staring straight up at the stars. The soft breeze washing over them as the stars twinkled up above them and for a band who was usually so loud, it was silent. It was a peaceful silent though, the sort where you’re just enjoying one another’s company without having to start a conversation.

Reggie’s eyes were trailed on one particular star, not taking his eyes off it. “My grandad always swore we’d end up playing a gig one day.” He muttered, his eyes twinkling fondly. He could feel the others turning to look at him for a second, before turning back to the sky. “It’s like everything he ever taught me is coming down to tomorrow, I wouldn’t be who I am without him.”

The three boys around him, cuddled in closer to him, their arms tangling around each other, huddling in for the comfort they all knew. They’d been working their asses off to get to this point. Luke’s arm reaching over Bobby’s shoulder to run his hand through Reggie’s hair, from where he was cuddled into Bobby’s side. “They’d be proud of you, Reg.” Alex whispered, his hand curling around the other boys, trying to get as close as possible.

The band had always been affectionate, whether it was simple arm brushes or hair ruffling or side hugs, but it wasn’t often they got as affectionate as this. It was usually when one of them wasn’t feeling great or something had happened at home.

Luke half propped himself up on one elbow, turning to look at the three of them with fond eyes, his eyes tearing up slightly, as he looked at every single one of them. “Tomorrow. Tomorrow we’re going to play the biggest gig of career and it’s going to change everything for us, and I couldn’t imagine doing it without you guys. You’re my best friends. Each one of you is a part of my soul, my boys.”

The stars in Reggie’s eyes twinkled as tears built up in the corner of his eyes, trying to wrap his arms around his boys, trying to bring them in even closer. “I couldn’t imagine doing this with anyone else, you’re my family, the people I rely on the most, the people I’d go through hell and back for.” Reggie burrowed his head in Bobby’s chest, as Alex tucked his head in Reggie’s neck, Luke crowding them in even closer, so they were essentially just a pile of limbs tangled together.

Bobby leant down to press a soft kiss to each of their foreheads, he ignored the gut feeling in his stomach that something was going to happen, just not what they expected it to be. They stayed like that until it was the moment to go, curled up as one under the stars. It was only when Reggie, who was usually the one who got cold the quickest, started shivering that they detangled from one another.

Alex detangled himself from Reggie first, holding his hand out to the younger boy after he was stood up. Reggie grabbed hold of the offered hand, pushing himself up, Luke and Bobby doing the exact same on the other side. The three older boys started heading towards the car, but Reggie lagged back, calling their names softly as he stood looking at the stars still.

“Come dance with me!” He called, holding his hands out to the others with a bright grin and who were the others to deny that grin. That dopy, crooked grin that brought them so much happiness of the years. As soon as the three others were back in touching distance, he threw his head back and began to sing, a grin appearing across his face.

Home, what is it really?

Sometimes it’s a someone and not a place,

It’s that feeling of being safe,

It’s about who you’re with at the end of the day…

He began spinning the others round, throwing his arms around them as they danced under the stars, not caring that they were getting mud everywhere. His eyes shone happily as they danced around, pumping the three others up whether he knew it or not, his happiness was infectious. When Reggie was seriously happy like he was here, it showed, and it was hard to be down in the dumps around him.

He gathered the three boys close as he grew closer to the end of the song, tugging them all in for a giant hug, their heads pressed together in the middle as pants slipped through their lips, as Reggie sung the last lyric, changing it from before. “and it’s you. You’re home.” He sung softly, grinning brightly at the three others, his arms wrapped around both Luke and Bobby, his fingertips grazing Alex’s shoulder.

The four of them stood there for a few minutes, just embracing each other, and embracing their family. Before the heavens opened and drenched them. They raced back to the van, shoving each other over to try and get in the van first, before breaking out in peals of laughter, shaking the rain off them as Bobby started the van back up.

The stars shone in their eyes that night, but little did they know less than 24 hours later, a mere few hours before they were supposed to play the biggest gig of their life, their lives would change and not for the reason they were all expecting. and Reggie, whose stars had disappeared once before thought it was quite ironic, as he strained his neck trying to see the stars one last time from where he was laid on the floor, Alex and Luke who both had blood dripping from their mouths and nose, begging him to hold on, that the ambulance was on it’s way.

But Reggie knew. He knew they wouldn’t get there in time, he knew that it was more than likely his best friends would die as well. It was a shame. He couldn’t see the stars from here, and as his eyes glazed over for one last time, and the stars in his eyes died for a second time, a single thought popped in his head.

Little stars coming home grandad.

If dying was weird, then being a ghost was a hundred times weirder. He died first, he knew that one for sure, but he ended up waking back up in an ambulance a few minutes after, where he was joined by Luke and then Alex a few moments after. Poor Alex had to watch them both die by the time he finally died.

After Alex died, they were transported to the black room, where he could hear Alex crying but couldn’t get to him, it was strange. Alex sounded like he was an arms width away, but Reggie physically couldn’t get to him, his arms and legs just wouldn’t move. It smelt weird in the room, it didn’t smell of death like he expected it to, but it smelt like sadness and sorrow.

Luke was on the other side of him, he could tell that much for sure, he could smell his aftershave amongst the weird smell within the room and it’s the only thing that kept him from crying his eyes out. He physically couldn’t reach Luke either. Reggie tilted his head back against the black wall, closing his eyes as he wished that Bobby was okay.

As much as their oldest member of the band tried acting like he was strong and never cried, he was one of the softest people you’d ever meet and he loved his boys more than anything else in the world and losing them had probably broke Bobby more than anything else in the world. In some ways, he was glad that Bobby didn’t come with them to get hot dogs, so that he could live a happy and healthy life, get married, become famous and do everything they ever wanted to do in life.

Being a ghost was weird. That one was for sure, being a ghost in a band where people could only see you if you were performing? Well that was just even weirder. He wouldn’t change it for the world though, he loved Julie and he loved performing. Alex was finding happiness with Willie and everyone could see that Luke was pining heavily over Julie.

Reggie, well, Reggie was just happy being at least semi-alive, sure his family home had been destroyed and replaced and he had no clue whether anyone from his family was even alive anymore. But his friends were happy and that meant he was happy, right? The truth is he had no clue, he ended up poofing around the city a lot, trying to find the best places to stargaze.

He didn’t have anyone, his best friends were busy and of course he was happy for them, but he missed them. He missed Bobby, who apparently now went by Trevor and was old(er) and had a daughter and stole Luke’s music. Sometimes, he’d just go to Bobby’s, he wouldn’t tell the others instead he’d just tell them he’s searching for his family, but he’d go sit in with Bobby. Luke wouldn’t understand, he was still too angry over everything and Alex probably wouldn’t understand properly.

He kept a smile on his face, something he’d mastered back when he was alive, if the others had focused long enough, they would’ve noticed it had become fake and that the stars in his eyes had diminished. They were just busy. They were always busy. Just like his mum and dad were at first.

One of the good things about being a ghost was that he could poof wherever he wanted to. He saw a video of the northern lights in Iceland and within two minutes of him wishing he was there he was physically there. He could lay down and watch them for hours without getting cold or needing to go inside to use the toilet or to eat.

It was at those moments when he felt the most peace, he felt free. He had nothing restricting him, he wasn’t under pressure to rehearse with the band or put up a smile when all he want to do was cry, he just got to breathe and be at peace with the same stars which had brought him so much happiness over the years.

He ran away at one point. It was not long after they first met Caleb, when they had the first shock. Alex was out with Willie, trying to understand what had happened and Luke was writing songs with Julie in the garage and Reggie just poofed on top of Mauna Kea. He couldn’t take being there anymore, there was too much sadness and too much pain and he couldn’t take it.

When he eventually went back, he’d near enough got his ass kicked by the others. He only thought he’d been gone for a few hours at max, when in fact he’d been gone for three days. Three days and his best friends had gone mental with worry, thinking either Caleb’s shocks had got him for good, or that he’d completed his unfinished business and they hadn’t got a chance to say goodbye.

His boys meant the world to him, they always had. They were his family, through thick and thin. They’d died together, just mere minutes apart and honestly, Reggie thought they were going to cross over together as well. But then they played the Orpheum and honestly, it felt like a fever dream, the one thing they’d always wanted to do, ever since they were kids messing about making music.

But everything changed. They didn’t crossover and Reggie had never been more confused. He could touch Julie now; Ray and Carlos could see him at times. (That one was a fun one to explain to Ray at least, Carlos was just happy that he could see them). Willie and Alex spent more and more time together, the drummer coming back late at night, and besides band practice, it was likely he never saw them anymore. Luke and Julie swapped between writing songs in the garage and spending time together when they weren’t practicing. It was like everyone else in the band was cracking on with their lives and Reggie, well Reggie felt like he was left in the dust.

He didn’t know anyone else and he didn’t want to bug Ray by spending all his time with him, so he went exploring. He went everywhere he could, he went to volcanos and let himself go diving in the lava, just to see what it felt like, it’s not like it would actually kill him. And after treating the lava like his own personal swimming pool because why the fuck not, he’d lay on the edge of the crater and just lay there, one hand behind his head and look up at the stars.

He didn’t see the concerned glances behind his head, after he bailed out on another plan the band had tried to organise. He didn’t see the frown on Luke’s face as they did their usual mic share and the lights didn’t shine like they did. He didn’t see the group meetings they called, getting everyone together; Luke, Alex, the Molina’s, Flynn, Willie, near enough everyone in their group. They even went as far as checking in with Bobby.

Nobody knew what was wrong with him, it’s like he’d hidden away all his thoughts and feelings, to the point where he was a shell of himself. The others were constantly concerned, concerned that he’d cross over on his own or that he’d go and join Caleb, that they’d never see him again or know what happened to him.

So, they set a plan in place. The stars in his eyes had faded again and it was their job to get them back. No matter what.

+1)

Reggie was completely oblivious to the plan his friends were putting in place. He spent most of his days wondering different sections of the Earth. He’d been swimming with penguins, he’d been to the biggest library in the world, he went to different planetariums around the world, trying his hardest to find happiness or find his way to crossover.

The thought of crossing over alone didn’t scare him anymore. Why would being alone scare him when he’d always been alone? He followed random people on his journeys, watching their lives, how their eyes twinkled when they were with the people, they cherished the most. He wanted that, more than anything else in the world.

For once in his life he just wanted to be wanted. For someone to hold his hand and tell him everything’s going to be okay. He’d always had someone else, ever since he was younger. He didn’t have his parents, but he had his grandparents and then after they died, he had the band. Only now he didn’t, and it broke his heart.

He didn’t even know what day it was at this point, the days just blended together, all into one. He’d spend a day in one country, pop home to check on the Molina’s and his boys, do band practice and then pop to another country. It was a cycle he couldn’t get out of. He didn’t want to see the pity in their eyes for Reggie, the left over one.

He popped back one Thursday evening, he only knew what day it was because his most recent follow, was an English university student, who only had lectures on a Thursday and a Tuesday. She was a fun one to follow, purely because they were in similar states, she was far away from home at university and was often pushed aside. Even though she couldn’t see him, he’d taken a soft spot for her.

The lights were all off in the garage for once, which was strange on a good day. Even if they didn’t have practice that day, the lights were usually on as at least once person was usually in the garage. But this time there was complete and utter silence and he didn’t like it one bit. He flicked the light on, blinking as his bandmates appeared in front of the piano, almost like they’d been waiting for him to come back.

“Guys?” He questioned, looking back between Luke and Alex with a slight frown on his face. “What’s going on?” Alex’s face relaxed slightly, storming towards the shorter boy, before pulling him into his arms. “You were late for the check in time.” Was the only answer the taller boy gave, shoving his face into the younger’s hair, taking a deep breathe in to confirm that he was there.

Reggie felt another pair on arms join in on the hug, a somehow warm body pressing himself into his side. The three of them just standing there in the middle of the garage, not wanting to release from the hug. Alex was the first to step back, wiping his face roughly, to rid himself of the few tears that had dripped down his face.

Luke didn’t let go of Reggie that easily, he broke the hug only to wrap his arm around the slightly younger boys’ shoulder, bringing him to sit down on the couch, between Alex and himself. The tension between the three of them was almost unbearable, both Alex and Luke turning slightly towards Reggie, both of them having a mental battle about who would start the conversation first.

In the end, Luke just went for it, grabbing onto one of the younger boys’ hands and linking it with his own. He gave it a tight squeeze as he began to speak. “I don’t know what’s been going through your head recently, Bug, but you need to let us in.” Alex took his right hand in his own and repeated Luke’s actions, while still giving him space, not wanting to overwhelm him.

“We know you’ve been travelling, Reg, but we miss you.” Alex whispered, like if he spoke too loudly it would disturb the peace within the garage. “It feels like we haven’t seen you in weeks and every time we try and speak to you, you pull away a bit further.”

Reggie just continued looking at his feet, knowing that the moment he looked at the two boys surrounding him, he’d open his mouth and let everything he felt slip straight out of his mouth. Unluckily, he didn’t have that option, Luke used two fingers to lift the others chin up, looking him straight in the eye. Those wide hazel eyes, which could have him spilling his secrets in minutes.

“You’re not okay. Don’t try and tell us you are, because we know you’re not and we want to help, Reg.” They were pushing, but not pushing enough to overwhelm him and it was at that moment that Reggie realised just how well his best friends knew him. They always had known him better than he knew himself.

Reggie took a shuddering breathe in, not that he actually needed to be able to breathe, but more to prepare himself for the fact once he started talking, he’d never stop. His emotions were so tightly wound inside of him and as Alex used to say, he wore his heart on his sleeve. He tore his eyes down to his lap again and Luke let him, instead waiting for the younger boy to start.

“I just, I feel so along at times.” He whimpered softly, bringing his knees up to his chest, resting his chin on his knees, as he felt his best friends shift a little bit, to squish him between them. “Alex has Willie and you have Jules and I just, I missed my best friends. I love Julie and Willie, I really do and I’m glad they make you happy, because that’s all I’ve ever wanted in life, for you two to be happy and to find peace in your lives.”

The tears which had been brimming in his eyes for the past few minutes had started to drip down his face and into the material of his jeans. “I just, I got so used to being the person that nobody wanted, my parents didn’t want me, you guys didn’t want me and that you guys were happier without me.” He took a shuddering breath in, refusing to look at either as he uttered the last words, tears dripping down his face even heavier.

“I thought you’d be better with me gone.”

The two sudden intakes of breathe would haunt Reggie for the next few weeks, the shock and horror behind them, as both the others tightened their grips on his hands, before Alex knelt down Infront of him, the blondes eyes tracing across his face, before pulling him into a tight hug, pressing Reggie’s head into his neck.

“Don’t you ever, ever fucking say that.” He whispered harshly, tears dripping down his own face. The horror was visible across Luke’s face as he stared at the two of them in disbelief. “Our lives wouldn’t be worth living if you were gone. We’ve been in this together from the start, us three against the world, way before Bobby, way before poisonous hot dogs and ghosts and crushes.”

Luke who had remained quiet since the admission, tangled his arms around them both. “You’re never alone, Bug. You’ve always got us, you’ve always had us, and you always will, even after we’ve crossed over, we’ll always be together, even if we’re apart.” The three of them were crying, the emotions they’d all had bundled up since they died coming loose and open.

“I love you guys.” Reggie whispered, his eyes twinkling, even with tears streaming down his face, the stars were back, still a bit faded, but they were back. Just like they liked.

“We love you too, more than you would ever know.” Luke nuzzled Reggie’s head, pressing a soft kiss to the younger boy’s forehead, before Alex repeated the action to both of them. The three of them stayed there wrapped up in each other, taking comfort in them all just being there, being with one another.

One by one they fell asleep, still tangled together. For that night nothing could disturb them. Julie woke them up after she got home from school, running and diving on them, wrapping her arms around as much of the three ghosts as she could manage. She’d been worried sick the night before, but both Alex and Luke had sent her to bed just before midnight when she could barely contain the yawns escaping her.

It was at that moment that Reggie knew he was home. He always thought the stars were his home, after all, they’d brought him so much comfort and joy over the years, but, at that exact moment, he knew they were his home. Julie who helped bring music back into their lives, to achieve their goals. Willie who made Alex the happiest that Reggie had ever seen, who helped him accept his own sexuality as well. Flynn, who would constantly keep them happy and entertained when they were down. Carlos who Reggie adored like a little brother, that he’d do anything to keep the smile on the young boy’s face. Ray, who he loved like a dad, who loved his little brother and sister like his world depended on it.

Luke, joyful, precious, happy Luke. His best friend, the boy that would protect him from anything if he had the option. Luke would walk through fire if it meant that the people, he loved were happy. Alex who would constantly crack them up laughing with his sarcastic comments, but loved with his whole entire heart, that took care of them when they were sad or feeling down, who had plasters and bandages in his bag, ready to take care of them if their dumbasses got injured again. Bobby, who even though he stole the bands songs, was one of the kindest people you’d ever meet, he lost everything the day the three of them died and still carried on living, when most others would have given up.

He loved them.

And they loved him, more than he would ever know.

So, it was no surprise when Reggie crossed over a few weeks later, the stars in his eyes glittering brightly, as he hugged his best friends, told Willie and Julie to take care of his boys, waved at Flynn, Carlos, Ray and Bobby. He went covered in his best friend’s love, he could feel Alex’s arms around his waist, Luke’s around his shoulders. He went knowing he was loved that he’d never be alone, no matter what. It was that moment, Reggie Peters found peace.

Little star went home for one last time.

#reggie peters #julie and the phantoms #luke patterson #bobby wilson #trevor wilson #alex mercer #julie molina #jatp fanfic #reggie centric #ally's fic #trigger warning!!

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the13colonies · 4 years

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Hey, Rev. Since you are a history major, I wanted to know approximately how many hours of class do you have per week? And is it roughly the same for all 4 years, or do the hours decrease with each year?

Well, it depends how fast you want to graduate, where you are in your degree, specifically which classes you take, and which are required credits

This is continued under the cut:

The standard semester for college students in any degree is 12 credit hours per semester, or 4 classes. With the history major, if you go to a 4 year university with 12 hours a semester you will graduate in about 4 years depending on the program requirements. 2 years to do prerequisites you need to graduate, and 2 for your major and minor

A major is what you are getting your degree in. Since my major is history, I will graduate with a bachelor's in history. A minor is something that you take classes in on the side, but do not get a degree in. My minor is classics (ancient Greece and Roman studies) and most programs usually make you take a minor, history especially. Minors that go well with history is usually political science, international affairs, archeology, anthropology, classics, and literature. Some programs also have specific minors for history majors: my school has a Russian and East European minor, along with English history as another example

History majors have to take a specific number of classes in order to get the degree. This differs from school to school, but usually include a specific amount of world history, American history, diversity, and social sciences classes. For example, I need 9 credits of American history classes to meet the graduate requirement, which is 3 separate classes

As for classes during the week. Last semester I had 5 classes, but only one was history. This semester, I only have 4, but 3 of them are history.

Depending on your schedule, you could only meet once a week for a 3 hour class (DO NOT PICK THIS.), twice a week for an hour and 30 minutes, or three times a week for an hour. This is where the "credits" come in. If you have a class that's 3 credits, that means you spend 3 hours a week IN class. Some classes, like languages and sciences, will have 4 or 5 credit hours, since you are either in labs or have more class time to focus on the material

Most classes stay uniform throughout your tenure. Colleges offer you to take a minimum of 12 credit hours (4 classes) to be a full time student, and for upwards to 18 credits (6 classes) which you need special permission to take. I know classes seem like too little, but you're pending 12 hours a week in class, not to meantion the higher course work, so PLEASE take a standard 12 credit hour semester your first year in college to get the feel for it. I went went community College for a year so that is why I took 5 classes last semester

As for outside of school, I spend anywhere between 3 to 4 hours a day on homework and studying. This is NOT including my personal reading and masterpost creations. Last semester I spent about 4+ because of classes.

COLLEGE IS HARD. ESPECIALLY FOR HISTORY MAJORS.

History is a lot of writing. I have papers due every week. By the time you finish your first year in college (two semesters) you should be able to properly write, cite, and prove a thesis for your paper. You are required to take writing classes, so pay attention to those. It's saved my life

History majors are also expected to think critically for themselves. Sure, you can memorieze a bunch of dates, but you need to understand why, the causes and effects, and finally, how does it tie in to the modern day? Why does this specific event have significance in our lives?

This is why history professors on the higher level classes (3000s and 4000s) are not going to give you exams. They will assign you a fuck ton of papers. My history class last year had 5 mini essays, which were 600-700 words long each, and a final paper, 2000+. These teachers don't need to know if you know when the Americans declared independence, they want to know why it is important, how they got there, and why it happened to begin with

History majors are usually required to take a foreign language as well. Usually it's about three semesters worth. When studying history, try to pick a language that matches your preferred region you like to study. Like European history? Take German or French. Like South American history? Take Spanish. If you're like me and like American history and want to specialize in it, take Latin or Spanish. Personally, I'm doing Latin

As a history major you will study things you won't like. Ex: I studied medieval Europe last semester and this semester, hated every second, but got an A. Just try to remember that it is history, and there will be things that shock you, horrify you, bore you, and make you jump up and down

Grad school is a whole other thing so I won't get into it rn

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kiitsume · 4 years

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a few thoughts on six the musical because nobody asked for them

(also excuse any historical inaccuracies, i've done only cursory reading thank you)

let's start light. the costumes are pretty but they completely take away any sense of historical context, unintentionally minimizing the degree of awareness the audience has of the culture surrounding the women at the time, which is actually pretty important to the message the writers are trying to construct.

the music is good. like, it's catchy and generally well written, and of course well performed. but the writers giveth and the writers taketh away. mostly they take away. all of the songs are reductive and collapse six people-- who they claim to attempt to honor the memory of-- down into platitudes and general notions of people, caricaturizing them into something that's barely recognizable.

the set up the musical to be a "competition between these six women to get the respect the deserve for the amount they suffered" and then they turn around at the end and shame the audience for doing that-- for picking favorites along the way and actually considering which ones they empathize most with.

the opening song, "ex-wives" uses modern lingo and whatnot, but it's not any more jarring that the costumes, so it's not until "don't lose your head" that the text speak really throws you off. it was honestly uncomfortable to watch in context of the musical, at least upon my viewing.

do i know they went chronologically? yes. will i ever forgive them for putting the most jarring joke of a song, "haus of holbein" right after arguably the most heartfelt song of the musical, jane seymour's "heart of stone"? absolutely fucking not.

haus of holbein has it's merits. i won't lie. it addresses the beauty standards of the time and the way that women were expected to destroy their bodies and give up their lives in order to appeal to men, which contributes to the larger narrative the writers were trying to build in saying that all these women would've led remarkable lives if they hadn't been forced to give themselves up to a life that made them miserable. but all of that is erased by the fact that it has air horns in it, i'm sorry, that can't be overlooked. literally die.

katherine (we're going with the musical's spelling okay) howard's song? a fucking bop. "all you wanna do" is iconic. but it has been brought to my attention by my girlfriend, who is much more knowledgeable on the six's actual history and writings, that pretty much the entire song is a complete disregard for who she was in life and her actual feelings, and that's especially irritating because they did it specifically for the purpose of constructing a much more simple narrative and, in the process, did the exact thing they claim to condemn: writing over her, and all the others, with what they think they know and bending them and their lives to fit their ideal message. how so? my girl k howard actually did have feelings for thomas. you know, the one person in the song she's like, "just mates, no chemistry/ i get him and he gets me/ and there's nothing more to it." they just throw that out to make thomas look like a nice guy and like people were just constantly taking advantage of her, which to some extent was true. but it also strips all the agency out of her life, and ignores the fact that "serious, stern and slow/ gets what he wants and he won't take no," francis dereham was the one who got jealous of her and thomas' relationship and snitched to the king and got her executed. there's literally no acknowledgement that he was anything other than just another fling or something. and, by omission, it implies that her music teacher, henry mannox, was the one and only one who groomed her (and molested her at 13). in reality, dereham's relationship with her started when she was 15 and he was 32. oh, and she was 17 when she married the 49 year old king. if the musical is supposed to form a cohesive narrative around how these girls were taken advantage of and thrown out by history as a joke, her story is literally ideal for that purpose. but instead we got naive girl uses sex to get ahead and then it backfires and she's killed for it.

not that thomas is innocent in all of this-- when the affair was brought to public light he blamed everything on howard and continued to deny ever sleeping with her, though he eventually admitted to intending to. there's some debate over whether their private meetings were actually an affair, but howard's writings on it make it seem as if she did have feelings for him, so. we may never know. but again, this is just to show the disservice the musical did to her.

i don't know as much about the other queens i'll admit, but here's just a few things that would be useful for the narrative the musical tries and fails to build: catherine parr was 15 when she was married to henry's brother arthur, who she couldn't speak to because they'd corresponded in latin but had different pronunciations-- this marriage was to give arthur greater legitimacy, because she was considered more strongly royal by blood; anne boleyn resisted henry's attempts to make her a mistress-- she was extremely smart, which was desirable in a mistress but not a wife!-- as her sister mary had been, and her daughter, unlike parr's is never acknowledged by the musical, the subjects called her "the king's whore" and blamed her for his tyranny, and-- oh, did i mention? historians debate whether there were any actual grounds for the charges brought against her that led to her execution, and most scholars regard it just something the king did so he could move on to seymour; jane seymour was married to henry the day after anne boleyn's execution, and she was never publically coronated in part because of a plague (woo!) but some also theorize that henry didn't want her to be coronated until she'd done her "duty as queen" and bore him a male heir; anne of cleves was described as extremely beautiful, so when the king met her and described her as "plain" he was incredibly let down, and immediately decided that he wanted to avoid the marriage altogether-- she was not considered ugly, as the musical makes it sound, just not good enough for the kings "selective" tastes (you know, the same henry who had a festering, ulcerated wound on his leg from a jousting accident); catherine parr is done the most justice, actually acknowledging the work she did in education and writing, the role she played in the establishment of the Third Succession Act which allowed her daughters access to the throne, and her two previous marriages (one of which was to someone twice her age) but it fails to acknowledge that her protestant sympathies got her targeted by arrest warrants before she reconciled with the king, and she was able to marry her lost love thomas seymour (different thomas, different seymour) in secret four months after the king's death, only to die a year and four months later.

also this: catherine of aragon was the only wife older than henry when they married, with her being 24 when and henry being 18; boleyn was 32 while henry was 42; seymour was 28, married to a 45 year old henry; anne of cleves was 25 and henry was 49; i repeat, howard was 17 when she was married to the 49 year old king; and parr was 31 and henry was 52.

and they were all flawed individuals, too, don't take my defenses of them to mean otherwise. in fact, as historical figures, i don't necessarily like all of them. but despite their flaws, they didn't deserve what happened to them, which is something the musical fails to portray in every way. it glosses over everything so quickly, which i understand is to be expected to a degree when you give each queen a six minute song to tell the story of their entire life, but the writing distorts them so badly they're hardly recognizable, and their stories are changed willy-nilly to fit the lazy empowerment theme rather than addressing them as they were.

the final song, "six." boy do i have thoughts. it's meant to seem empowering, and to an extent it is, because the characters they've given us get to talk about having a happy ending and making something of their lives that made them happy to have a legacy. but none of it's true, and it feels incredibly forced, especially because they take the concept of these women and pay no attention to them historically or what the figures they're based on would've actually wanted, and instead just says, "they all sing and dance and have a great time! question nothing!" and it just feels so hollow. it honestly made me feel even worse about the historical figures themselves and the suffering they endured, because it felt minimizing and shallow, like a platitude to make you stop thinking about how horribly they were treated. it was genuinely upsetting from that point of view, and despite how uplifting it's meant to be in the context of the show, it acknowledges that it's only a dream by giving a time limit to their happiness-- five minutes. and after that point you're supposed to go on continuing to be happy, having connected with these people and been empowered by their stories, when you are given very little of their actual stories and are shamed for analyzing things through the lens they gave you at the opening of the show. not to mention how horribly they trample over their message of how restrictive and repressive their lives were by nature of their station and says that, "well, if they could've just made different choices they would've been happy!" ignoring how the culture gave them no other choice and there's a pretty good chance that, even if they had made the choices they wanted to, they would've still been held back by virtue of their gender and station. the story behind six is not empowering, and it feels horrible to have it twisted around that was to make it seem empowering. i understand not wanting to beat down your audience and make them miserable, but rather than reducing these women down to such simplified caricatures and then having them all bond and have a girl power moment, it would've been much more impactful to have their actual concerns be what they bonded over-- being forgotten, talked over, held back, so on-- and talking about the people they actually were. having them write their own stories is fun and all, but having them actually tell their stories and feel heard, even if it's in a time they'll never see, is a much less reductive sentiment.

tl;dr: so basically i thought the musical was badly written for the message they were trying to send, and no amount of good music or talented performance can save a boring or badly written musical, and the six queens still deserve better.

#long post #this took me all morning and i still feel like i didn't address everything i thought about it #but if i think about it any more i'll start crying because it distresses me to that degree that it didn't do them justice #and for other reasons but. staying on theme that's the reason we're going with.#not gonna put hate in the tags though have fun #i still listen to the soundtrack it's great it's just a bad musical when it's all put together

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normal-thoughts-official · 3 years

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I was reading ur post about the Brazilian education system (which sounds fucking incredible by the way) and it reminded me of smth

I have no intention of becoming a teacher, but my sister is one and she works in a primary school (her class is ages 5-6), and when she was in university she showed me loads of things about the reflecting realities study

I think it was made in 2017 and it was a study on how well children's books reflected the world around us, ie how many books published had protagonists of colour and obviously the results were dire

I'd have to look it up but there were very few people of colour and a hell of a lot of white characters, but what was especially interesting was that when Black Lives Matter got more prevelence last year a lot of publishing houses got put under pressure to add more people of colour in their books

And when the 2020 reflecting realities study came in and while there was more people of colour and less white people, the number of animals being the main protagonists completely jumped up

And it's just terrible because of stories with main casts of animals still fall into the exact same racist stereotypes. Like often they follow the protagonist of a cute fluffy animal as they struggle against the predetory snake or bear, both of which are completely different to them physically and explicitly a threat - this could also be stranger danger

And I mean, what's worse is when they're consciously trying to use animals as an allegory - I mean Zootopia? Anyone? Disney making the allegory for people of colour into literal predetors really wasn't the woke moment they thought it was

And I was just thinkinf about how this kind of follows through into the fantasy genre. I'm gonna be tentative here because Im no expert on this so call me out if you think I'm wrong. Like I'm glad that the shadowhunters cadting directors hired more actors of colour to the team because othereise it would be overwhelmingly pasty, I can't help but notice the decision to cast Luke, the only black man, as an animal and how they changed his character entirely as well

Because (this is not pro cc) Luke in the books was a gentle white bookshop owner, and the show changed him into a cop, and the second time we see him or so he's been injured from fighting (ie not depicted as gentle) ? For some reason (this could just be for plot purposes but u know) There's whole essays online about how media uses black cops in shows and movies to prevent criticism against them but that's a whole other post

(tentative again but do you think that it was kidn of to distance itself from real world issues? Like shadowhunters can obviously be read as the fantasy police force, but by making Luke a downworlder and a cop I feel like maybe they're moving as far away from being properly critical as they can)

That being said, I love show Luke I think he's fantastic, and I way prefer his competancy instead of wimpy white book Luke but I think he can fit the trope in media where characters of colour are depicted as animalistic, ie TWILIGHTs wolves being all native people!!! and I feel like often it just helps to reinforce a lot of the aggressive stereotyoes against poc

Idk how to finish this. In conclusion publishing houses seem to find it easier to publish stories about animals than people of colour and that's a big fat problem. Also how instead of you know publishing books by authors of colour several responded to criticism by just rereleasing collections of classics with black people on the cover - like that solves anythung

Idk I thought you might find the study interesting, it obviously goes more in depth that I have talked about so I can link it to you if you'd like (however it is a study based in Britain based upon British publishing houses so no worries if you aren't interested)

❤️❤️

that does sound pretty interesting! id like to see it if u have it easily, but if not, no worries. i think understanding the specifics of the context in other places always helps u understand ur own better, and we have similar studies in brazil with pretty much the same results

the whole animals thing is so crazy. like both in the sense of animalization and just that genuinely animals are more appealing to have as mc than poc for publishing companies diajasoidja god

also i've never seen zootopia or heard of it being a racial allegory and id like to unlearn that information

about luke: yep. i'm not sure they cast isaiah because he was a werewolf, i think it's genuinely just because he was a good actor (especially because so many other originally white characters got actors of color in the show) but sh and tsc did pick the race of the downworlders in the most cursed way. the two most important black characters were both werewolves (i know ur in s1 but maia also exists in tsc so), literally ALL the werewolves except for russell were either black or latine, even the minor ones (bat, alaric, gretel), the only jewish character drinks blood (COME ON), raphael is also animalized a lot "on account of being a vampire" whereas simon is not (and even camille isn't and she was supposed to be white so)

the decision to make luke a black cop will always be something i'll hate. can we stop trying to make cops diverse. cops are oppressors. get out of here with the propaganda

im not sure the thing about luke being hurt is supposed to imply he's violent tho, i think it's more supposed to be like "poor him, a great serviceman of the people, risking his life at the job" which is copaganda and therefore still racist, but, in a different way daoidjsaj

i think there could have been a good critique/parallel there with luke being black and a cop and an ex-shadowhunter downworlder, but that would have to be handled REALLY carefully so im actually kind of glad sh didn't even try to do that. also it would require luke to have actual growth as a character instead of just being clary's caretaker #4, and his internalized anti-downrorldism and bootlicking tendencies to be addressed and become a liberation plotline. which again, sh could never

but yeah same, in the end i love show luke, mostly because of who he could have been, but at least he's not useless like book luke. but like... why make him a cop when you could, very easily, do Anything Else

#ask #residenthottiesamwilson #salt #anti sh #anti book luke #cops tw #cops mention #racism mention

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hecohansen31 · 5 years

Text

I Know The Signs Of The Ancient Flame

College Student! Michael Langdon+Classical Student! Reader.

(A/N): Hello there, lovelies!

How are you? I haven’t published the fic for a while, and I am still scared shitless about publishing this kind of things, because it doesn’t have smut and it is.. more about a ‘guilty pleasure’, than anything!

But I still hope you’ll like the idea behind it! (Also if this interests you I have done a similar piece about classical culture with Xavier, which you can find HERE).

As always: any feedback is welcomed, let me know what you think about it, whether it’s positive/negative (just remember to be kind): hearts, reblogs and comments all go straight up to my heart!

Have a nice day!

PLOT: Stuck in a tiny elevator with your ex-boyfriend, you suddenly discover that your story might be more classical than you thought.

WORDS:3,4 K

WARNINGS: Angst, Past Trauma, Break-Up, Classical Annoying Things, Claustrophobia, Claustrophobic Spaces.

You seriously should have known better than to simply hook-up with some of your fellow schoolmates, mostly when group projects were around, and you had been paired with the boy who had broken your heart: Michael Langdon.

You had started a relationship with him with no interest other than for the sex, which was amazing from the rumors you had heard, and which you could confirm with some of your own.

But then for you it had become more.

Michael had heightened your perception with a softness he had shown only to you, making you think you were special, different from a simple hook-up.

But then things had stared becoming more difficult than you had originally believed they truly were.

Michael ignited stupid fights and he would get on your nerves, making you feel like who was truly doing the most in your relationship was you.

In the end, he had just given up: one night you had fallen asleep with him and the day after that… he was gone and when you had tried to confront him, he had shooed you away.

This was enough to leave you heartbroken, even more since you shared a few courses, so you had to actually face him constantly, although you had become especially talented at being as cold as him.

That was till the day your teachers had thought it would be a good idea to set you up on a joined project for your final paper, since you had both expressed your interest in the same theme: the fourth book of “Aeneid”.

What your Latin Literature teacher hadn’t understood, other than your barely contained hatred for each other, was the different point of views you beheld on the subject.

Whereas you had a more lenient thought towards Dido, knowing all too well what it felt like to be seduced and abandoned, Michael didn’t understand her cry and need for Aeneas, decidedly classifying her as a rather maniac desperate woman.

Whereas you thought that Dido’s suicide was caused by Aeneas and the most tragic of tragedy in the entire epic poem, to Michael it was nothing more than a last gesture of revenge, a useless reply to a man who had told her ‘no’.

You weren’t in the slightest in the mood to talk with your ex about this, mostly when all he kept on doing was blabbering his own opinion as if it was the best.

After the teacher had assigned your homework, you had both insisted on the possibility of a change of partner, which wasn’t possible, since he thought that your diverging opinions would work well in a debate.

Which was stupid, according to you both, to say the least.

After you had exited the classroom, definitely scorned, Michael had followed you, even after you had suggested you two just worked on your own things and then put them together, once you were finished with your researched.

‘It doesn’t work like that!’ he had mumbled, annoyed ‘I don’t know about you, but I am honestly trying my best to get a decent grade in this class…’.

‘This is why I am telling you to leave the entire thing at me’ you had shot back, meanwhile you went through the lawn of the college park, trying to quickly get away from him.

‘I…don’t think that you should do everything alone…” something in his tone seemed rather embarrassed, but you didn’t dare to turn around to check on him: you knew all too well what his blue eyes could do to you “… the teacher actually paired us together because of our contrasting ideas…”.

‘Which means that if we work together all you’ll do is try to convince me that your stupid opinion is the best one’ you replied, moving onto the first library you could find, almost having the satisfaction of closing the door in his face.

‘… well if you start up with that attitude we certainly won’t have a nice experience’ he commented, stopping the door from closing just a few minutes before it might have slapped on his face ‘… I am no asking for you to stop this hostility, but maybe… just to soften it’.

Yeah, of course, he could come back whenever it was useful for him…

What a dick.

‘… go to hell, honestly’ you simply mumbled back at his proposal, sneaking in the elevator and again Michael managed to catch the ride with you, which would make the entire thing quite more awkward.

‘Very mature, (Y/N)’ he mumbled, meanwhile he set himself on your side, as you huffed “,,, that is why we broke up, honestly… you always see your single point of view and nothing else”.

You were ready to properly reply to him, but suddenly the elevator went black and a strange noise was heard before the elevator shook lightly, under your feet, sending you against Michael and making you both fall on the ground, you on top of Michael, before the light reappeared but not the movement of the elevator.

“What the fuck?!” mumbled Michael, meanwhile you felt him shifting nervously under you as you tried to get away from him, to reach for your backpack which you had lost due to the sudden shake “What the hell is going on?”.

“I think that it is probably an alien invasion” you joked, immediately pushing yourself up to use the emergency button, knowing all too well that in some pretty shitty situations the elevator of the college library would stop working.

All you could do was just wait.

With your ex, in the same small place.

“… did this thing just broke?” Michael looked seriously panicked at the sole thought of it being, indeed, broken and you couldn’t help but smirk just to spite him, nodding lightly.

“This shit hasn’t been working properly since I first came here, we’ll have just to sit here and wait for the technician” for which you weren’t ecstatic, since you were stuck there with your idiotic ex, but there was no other way.

You would just put your headphones on and ignore all the incoherent mumbling that Michael had to say to you.

… and then you saw him crunching on the ground, his face definitely paler than it was healthy and in an attempt at human decency you reached out, immediately startling him, with his eyes going to the closed door, blocked due to the elevator having been stuck between floors.

Nothing too bad, the electricity had probably run out and the technician would have to just push and pull on a few things to get it work again.

“… Michael… is everything ok?” his breathing was shallow and sweat was drenching his perfect curls (you had once noticed a hair curler in his bathroom but hadn’t made any questions).

“No…” he swallowed a deep intake of saliva, before his breath went back to being even shallower “… I hate… fucking… closed spaces… I am scared… shit… fuck… by them”.

The revelation honestly surprised you: he had never talked much about himself when you were together, or better… he had talked about himself a lot…

All his best points, the perfectness of his features and the elegance of his steps, the way he was so smart that every teacher loved him, whether or not they approved of his methods or not…

… but he had never spoken or confessed to you why some nights he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep till you joined him in bed, or when he would wake up from nightmare and hold you just a bit tighter…

… he had never explained to you what had troubled him and in the end it had become heavy in your relationship, one of the many reasons why you had broken up eventually, feeling like he was just withholding important information from you, and it hurt… to know he didn’t think you were worthy of that intimacy.

You didn’t have many experiences with claustrophobic people, you, yourself weren’t a big fan of small spaces, but you had learnt to live with them (mostly since your apartment was the size of a shoe box) but you thought that water and slow breathing might help.

You took out your precious water bottle from your backpack: it had been decorated with a shit ton of stickers you had gotten from Michael, who would bring them over to you at first as a joke and then as a true gift.

You had thought about getting rid of the painful water bottle, but you couldn’t help but think it would be a waste, and in the end kept it, although sometimes you would look at a particular sticker and memory would bring you back to that moment when you had been happy with Michael.

Michael seemed a bit taken aback by what you were offering him, but he took the water bottle in his hands, gulping a few good sips from it, before he splashed some on his face, gaining a bit of color, which made you let out a breath of relief and move closer to Michael.

“Everything is going to be alright” you tried to make him relax, honestly wanting to touch his shoulder, to let him know that you were there with him, but you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable, alongside that you weren’t sure that you would be able to stop yourself from touching him any further “… Michael you just need to take a few deep breaths, understood?”.

“What if the oxygen runs out and we end up dying for asphyxia?” he shot back, but did as you told him, meanwhile you rolled your eyes at him.

“… and then I was the anxious one” you muttered under your breath “… then you should better shut the fuck up”.

Michael couldn’t overlook the sarcastic annoyed tone you took and shot you back a rather pretty smirk, although it wasn’t as energetic as it would have been, hadn’t he been having a slight mental breakdown a few minutes before.

“You know that I can’t shut the fuck up to save my life”.

Oh, you did perfectly.

Michael was always the one who would say the more hurtful during your fights: he knew exactly where to hit and sometimes he just couldn’t hold his tongue to save his life, hence you hadn’t been able to stop yourself from shattering in front of him many times.

He would always come back to you, asking for forgiveness, as a child.

Those were the only times he would allow you to see the trauma he had gone through.

“… well either way, I am going to put on my headphones, so Taylor Swift will cover your voice in 1. 2…”.

“Maybe this is a sign” spoke Michael, catching your attention for the cryptic phrase “…that we are meant to discuss about the entire ‘Dido and Aeneas’ debate”.

“That’s the stupidest thing I have ever heard you say” you replied, shooting him a look that ‘kindly’ invited him not to say anything, anymore “… and I have heard you say a shit ton of stupid things”.

“Oh… I remember that you quite liked when I would whisper at your ear…” he retorted, and this time his smirk was full-blown.

“… I honestly preferred you when you were not breathing” you mumbled, although you didn’t plug your ears yet with your earphones “I don’t see how we can debate on such things: I believe that Dido was a fucking tragic heroine who got more than she bargained for, for daring to love Aeneas, a dick who left her, because Fate had plans for him… I hate that asshole and you won’t convince me in any way to change my opinion”.

For all your life, Dido had been the scream shout by women who loved too much and got, literally, burned by it, and after Michael’s betrayal, you had felt even closer to the epic heroine.

You certainly didn’t glorify her last choice but understood the way she pushed the blame onto Aeneas and did the same as you analyzed the book, from your point of view.

“Aeneas couldn’t just say to the Fate ‘hey, dude, I just have fallen in love with a girl, so maybe… I might have to stick to Carthago, for longer and never found Rome’. It was simply impossible for him… he couldn’t have done that”.

“He loved her, and he might have stuck and fought more for that feeling” you mumbled, almost burned by Michael’s affirmation.

“You are truly naïve, (Y/N)” mumbled Michael, shaking his head slowly “… you always think that a thing as small as love can fix anything: he fucking couldn’t let love blind him, he had Lavinia waiting for him on the Roman shores!”.

“But he loved Dido, he said so, the cave… the…” you were just rambling right now, the way he spoke Michael didn’t accept any objection.

“… he didn’t love her, he just found her suitable for his plans, he used her” Michael’s tone was final.

“… so, you won’t deny me, at least, that Aeneas was an asshole?” you replied definitely all angered.

“He did what he had to do” he mumbled, as if he wasn’t proud of Aeneas’ behavior, as if it had been his, some kind of sadness shining in his eyes as he sent her a little look as if he wanted to see her reaction to the entire thing “… there are some things that are waaay out of our control”.

“I think that is what weak men say when they can’t do something, because they don’t want to” you whispered, and this got definitely to Michael, who turned to you, his eyes extremely icy.

“Why can’t you just convince yourself that sometimes some things are better on than off?”.

And that, this time, got to you.

You got to your feet, immediately coming closer to him.

“… are you talking about our relationship or ‘Dido and Aeneas’?” you shout “… because I was not the one who took off in the dark of the night! I would have fought, but maybe it is, indeed, better off than on! It makes things easier, definitely”.

You then moved to turn around and seriously sat onto your place again, with headphones on, but this time Michael’s hand shot out to get to you, making you turn around, and although you were expecting him to be angry at you, he looked devastated.

“I fucking saw you being miserable with me” he commented “… yeah we had the best highs I have ever had in a relationship, you made me feel so good, but then… the lows were so ugly and too many and…”.

“You were fucking the one who didn’t want to work in that relationship!” you retorted, pointing your finger at his chest “… I was so so fucking in love with you, butterfly in the stomach and all that shit… but you were always closed off, you didn’t let me in…”.

“Because I am fucking rotten, (Y/N)!” he screamed in your face and before you knew it he was up in front of you, his face all red due not to anger towards you, but to anger towards himself, something that broke your heart.

Truly.

“… all I do is take and destroy and that was what I was doing to you, the only good thing in my life”.

Silence broke down between the two of them.

Michael also shifted his sight onto the door, pushing it so he wouldn’t be facing you.

You still were able to stare at his distorted reflection in the side of the elevator: he was a few minutes from crying and again… you searched out in your backpack to find a box of tissues.

You moved closer as if you were cornering a scared animal, holding the box between you two in order for Michael to grab it at its own pace, which he did, almost stealing it from your hand, and scrunching it closer to himself, almost pushing it onto his chest.

“… thank you” he mumbled, softly “… I am sorry for this entire thi…”.

“You thought that you were protecting me…” you mumbled, catching immediately his attention, although your words were resentful, your tone wasn’t, blocked onto a calm uniformity “... but what you didn’t understand was that I felt shitty in these months… even more than when I was with you, which might be crazy…”.

“I felt also shittier, if it might help” mumbled Michael, a weak smile onto his face and you moved down to sit next to him, your shoulder budging against his.

“It does, you should feel shitty for letting me cry over you, asshole” your tone was in no way mean, neither it held that bitter sarcastic bit it had at first, a lighter teasing one that brought some kind of beauty onto your face, making Michael beam at you.

“Oh c’mon, you might say that, but deep down you obviously still love me” he retorted, shifting his face to your side, making you smirk lightly “… you have to admit it”.

“And you have to admit that you are an asshole” you answered back, this time definitely more aggressively “…Michael, all you needed to do was talk to me, I can handle things I am a big girl”.

“It isn’t that easy” Michael’s face was again hiding from your glare “… people like me can never ‘just talk their problems out’, you don’t know how people look at me, whenever I tell them… they look at me like the monster I fucking am…”.

He got up, swiftly, and then moved to the opposite side of the small elevator.

“… maybe Aeneas just wanted to stop Dido from being hurt, that is why he ran away, he had a fucking pissed goddess on his shoulders, why would he want to involve others in his shitty mess”.

“Because she fucking didn’t care of that pissed off goddess!” you shouted back, gaining his interest and when you turned around his eyes were teary and her gaze softened “… I wouldn’t have cared and I wouldn’t have run away from you, Michael”.

“You don’t know… what I…” he tried to push you away, but you raised onto your feet.

“… I don’t care, because you took care of me when I had a fever, you made me tea whenever I was panicking and you brought me stickers because they reminded you of me” your smile was sad “I loved you, truly”.

“I still love you, truly” Michael’s word were extremely honest and you just were left with your mouth open, surprised by the thought that Michael ever loved you, and blushed, lowering your eyes, but just when you were…

… the elevator shook again, signaling that it had started working again.

You were again pushed against Michael’s chest who protectively draped a shoulder over your shoulder, before the elevator regained its power and started again his movements quickly reached the chosen floor, the door opening to reveal two annoyed technicians.

You couldn’t help but blush thinking that maybe the two must think that you might be the one who actually stopped the elevator to spend a ‘romantic moment’ there.

Michael thanked them for their work, before he pushed you away from the elevator, after he had dragged your backpack out of it with his foot and you pushed it over the shoulder, smiling politely before you sprinted away from ‘the crime scene’, Michael behind you.

You both reached a more secluded area, Michael smirking lightly over to you, although his expression had some nostalgy to it.

“Well that was a fun experience” he mumbled, his hand onto your waist, more out of habit than anything.

“You shitted bricks for half of the experience” you replied, smirking at him, before you brushed a few of his curls away from his face “…you are an idiot”.

“You liked this idiot” he retorted, and you weren’t able to deny the truth anymore.

The knowledge of his insecurities might have definitely gotten into you.

“I did”.

“We could give a happy ending to Dido and Aeneas… we could be the one who stayed together” he proposed.

You were a bit uneasy trying things again, mostly because if Michael left you again, you weren’t sure you would have survived again, because of the pain, but the smile on Michael’s face as he gripped onto your hand as you nodded, was the best thing ever.

But you stopped him from actually kissing you, as he leaned in.

“We have homework to make”.

And then you sprinted off, Michael on your tail.

You would be fine, Michael would be fine.

And it was all because “non ignara mali miseris succurrere disco” (“not unknown to being unwell, I am learning how to help those in need”).

---

So as always: feedback is precious, even more lately, when during the holidays us writers get no notes, so don’t be a bad people and share the fic if you liked it, saying something, it literally takes you a few seconds, and it makes us writers happy!

With this being said, here are the people of my stable tag-list (if you want to be added/removed, just shoot me an ask!).

@emmyrosee @blakewaterxx @lovelylangdonx @so-langdon @1-800-bitchcraft @rosegoldrichie @lathraios @rocketgirl2410 @kaetastic @frenchbread4ever @melodylangdon

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percabeth4life · 4 years

Text

I Accidentally Vaporize My Pre-Algebra Teacher

First Chapter || Previous Chapter || Next Chapter (coming soon) || AO3

And we’ve reached canon timeline!

Ms. Dodds clearly has something out for me.

I can tell.

She watches me with narrow eyes, a dangerous look on her face.

I can feel the magic that clings to her, it feels like the strange itch of a curse, but not quite.

There’s an almost buzz with her, cloudy and indistinct.

I really don’t like her either.

Thankfully I’m good enough at Math to do alright in her class, or I really fear what she would do to me.

But as it is, I’m very worried.

“There’s been a theft.”

Triton was worried, he hasn’t contacted me since that letter.

“Keep your head down.”

I miss him, is he okay?

“Stay away from the ocean.”

I’m worried and scared, what’s going on?

“Don’t contact me.”

I need to tell someone about Ms. Dodds, I need to do something.

“Stay safe.”

What am I supposed to do?

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

Ms. Dodds almost seems to follow me around, I don’t dare use my waterbending outside of my room nowadays.

I haven’t used it much outside of my room anyways, but I played with the water in my cups and spilled some people’s drinks when they were rude.

They deserved it.

Nancy is more than happy to try to get me in trouble with Ms. Dodds though, it’s annoying. I’m not sure how to keep off her radar when Nancy tries to blame everything on me.

I’m just really glad for all of Triton’s lessons now. Triton might not be here, but his lessons still help me.

“There will be enemies you cannot match. They will be stronger than you, you will lose in a fair fight.”

Triton taught me a lot.

“There are two main paths to take. They depend on the situation.”

I don’t know if I’m treating the situation right, but I’m going to do my best.

“If you have no choice but to fight, anger them. Make them angry, mock them, tease them, attack their pride, their honor, their hair. Do whatever it takes to throw them off. An angry enemy is a dumb enemy.”

I smiled in the face of Nancy’s accusations and did my best to always be around at least two other people. I will have an alibi this year. There won’t be a repeat of previous year’s situations.

“If you can though, try to defuse the situation. Manners, sweet smiles, agreeing with them in everything they say. Don’t antagonize them, be the kindest, sweetest, most well-behaved person you can be. Make it so they don’t want to fight you.”

Ms. Dodds is scary, and I want Triton, I want the sea, I want home.

But I have to stay here, so I smile and nod and say yes ma’am and I hide my power.

I acted as ordinary as I possibly could.

I don’t think it’s working.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

I tried to read the ex-cursed book from first semester. It’s all in Latin though? I can’t read it very well, just picking out certain words here and there. How annoying.

The paper felt old, but it doesn’t look it? It doesn’t seem to have any power in it anymore, at least I don’t feel anything other than the constant buzz around me.

Oh well, I’ll have to get better at reading Latin to read this book I guess.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

I talked with Carl the fish a lot, while researching how to make him human again.

At this point I think I just need more power, the person that cursed him is stronger than me, so I have two options for undoing the curse. I could pull the curse apart at its base, but that would require me understanding how the curse was laid, and what the exact nature of the curse is, and so many details.

I learned a lot about curses, I’m so glad I had these books before whatever happened on the solstice.

The curses can be of different natures, woven ones where the curse is weaved almost like making a cloth, layered ones where it’s parts are all laid on top of the other, overwhelming ones where they just force their will on the subject, and twisting ones where they shift the nature of the object, that one is usually done for objects already enchanted though.

If you know the nature of the curse you can pick it apart, pull at woven ones until the fabric of the curse comes undone, peel the layers up one by one for layered ones, slip underneath and yank the overwhelming ones off (though it’s recommended to be sure of your skill to counter those), or just re-twist the twisting ones back to their original nature.

I thinks this one is either twisting or woven, but if I mess up doing the careful way of unwinding it then I could make it worse. Twisting a woven curse tightens it and makes it harder to undo and pulling a twisting one does the same.

So, I was probably going to do the second way, which is just plain overpowering it. But that requires a lot of power, especially if it’s twisting or woven. Those two are the hardest to undo through sheer power.

Ugh.

But Carl was at least nice to talk to, he helped me stay calm even though I have no idea what’s going on.

I should figure out how to make a bubble of water to bring him with me. That would be easier then leaving him with Gabe. I doubt it’s safe for him there. It was only safe last summer because Gabe didn’t find out about him till the very end of the summer.

Yeah, I’ll look into making a way to carry Carl.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

I frowned over the book on healing, and the medical kit spread out in front of me. I want to get better at healing, unfortunately I need to figure out the tools.

I picked up one of the tools, this is just the basic set but it’s so varied.

Okay, so this is treated seaweed, for binding the wounds that you can’t heal all at once. This is purification stone to cleanse the wound to make it easier to heal. The slim shell knife is for working with the wound? And for cutting the seaweed to the right length. There’s an antibacterial mix, made from… something. I don’t know how this is made, I should probably learn.

The shell paste that hardens into a cast is cool though. And the spider crab thread is cool. I didn’t know the spider crabs made thread but looking through the manual it says that’s what the thread is from. Maybe there’s a mythical one I don’t know about? There’s also a jar of enchanted fish, enchanted to sleep until you open the jar, to eat dead skin.

There are also the basics, like in any land first aid kit. Tweezers, scissors, painkillers (though these are made from a fish with paralytic abilities that cuts off pain, it’s cool), and a thermometer (though again, it’s a type of coral that’s very sensitive to changes in temperature and enchanted to live).

Then there’s some stuff I’m not sure about? I don’t know if land kits have them, the one at home doesn’t.

There’s a large soft blanket made of woven sea grasses (so soft) that has one side woven with coral shielding, the kind that keeps in heat, a type of woven mix of sea grass stuffed with anemone puff that cools rapidly when exposed to water.

The manual shows how to use it all and one of my extra books shows how to combine them with healing. It’s interesting, I just wish I had someone to practice it on. I’ll just have to try it with minor injuries that I get?

I sighed, oh well. It’ll come in handy some day I’m sure.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

Mr. Brunner is acting strangely as well.

I saw Mr. Brunner and Ms. Dodds talking, well, actually it sounded more like threatening each other from where I was standing.

I still don’t know if Mr. Brunner is safe, but he doesn’t have the itch of a curse on him. So maybe he’s okay.

He certainly seems safer than Ms. Dodds.

Mr. Brunner has started teaching us how to hold swords during lessons.

I don’t like any of the swords, they don’t feel right.

But some of them have that feel to them, a buzz in my head. They aren’t normal, they definitely have magic of some kind.

The one Mr. Brunner uses has the most powerful feeling, and it reminds me of Elei’s trident, made in the ocean of her power. Made of her.

I’m pretty sure that sword is of the ocean.

I pretend I don’t know that Mr. Brunner has what’s likely the essence of a being of the sea, even though it makes me ache. It’s just like Elei’s, what if there’s a being out there missing their essence?

I smile and nod again, hiding my fear, my worry, my anger.

Triton will be upset if I fall apart just because I can’t see Triton.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

I stood at the edge of the pit again. This time there was someone else there, though I can’t see them.

I could feel something I hadn’t noticed before, sliding sand, soft and soothing, prickling over my hands, pinpricks of warmth and a feeling of numbness. The feelings together are strange, a bit uncomfortable, but they don’t bother me too much.

“-rry Master. I couldn’t get it to you, but I won’t fail again! I will find a way to let it reach you, I swear it.”

“Your failure has put back our plans by quite a bit, I now must expend energy to keep the wayward god under my control, I do not have the power to spare yet.”

“I know, I- I have no excuse. I failed you because of my own arrogance.”

The voice murmured something, I think it’s the Thalozan language, which is really, really, old but Triton knows a few words and taught me them.

I have no idea what the voice is saying though, I just recognize the sounds.

“I will make arrangements, return to your sleep.”

“Yes Master.”

There was a faint whisper, then the other presence was gone.

There were more faint murmurs in the other language, possibly Thalozan? Before it suddenly went silent.

“Ah, I see you’ve returned little Half-blood.”

“It’s Percy,” I reminded.

The low chuckle returned, “Indeed.”

I heard a faint murmur, “Fainter, less than before, not sure,” before he hummed, “How-“

I woke up.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

I hate the stupid detention I’m stuck in.

I didn’t do anything! But Nancy Bobfit decided to blame me for stealing something, and my alibi didn’t work.

I have to clean the classroom for this detention, I’m pretty sure I’m just supposed to sit quietly in a room and listen to a lecture for an hour, but Ms. Dodds doesn’t go by normal rules.

So, I’m stuck in that room, with a rag and a spray bottle, reluctantly cleaning the room.

I’m staying polite though, I’m not going to let Nancy ruin all my hard work at making Ms. Dodds not kick me out at the first opportunity.

I sprayed the desk and wiped it down, this is nowhere near as hard as cleaning the river. I’ll be fine.

“Now honey,” Ms. Dodds started, “You know why you’re here yes?”

Ms. Dodds was apparently an expert at torture.

A faint buzz nudged at my senses.

The next hour was spent with her subtle implications that I’m a horrible thief, shouldn’t be in the school, brings shame to everyone, am a horrible person, and am probably cheating and she just couldn’t prove it yet.

It was getting harder and harder to resist the urge to lash out. But I need to keep my temper.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

I blinked in the room I’m in, looking around.

I’m back in the undersea palace, Oceanus’s palace.

I’m in my probable dad’s palace.

…

I should look around.

For… research… yeah.

I promptly left the room to explore more.

It’s pretty, I like the walls, covered with glittering murals. I passed an opening and stared in awe at the dark waters filled with lantern fish and other glowing beings.

I decided I like it, it’s comfortable in a different way than the places I’ve been with Triton.

“Back again I see.”

I whipped around to see Oceanus there once more.

“Er… Hi.”

Dumb, stupid, idiot, don’t just say hi!

I quickly twisted my hand into the proper motion of respect.

Oceanus’s lips twitched.

“Perhaps introduce yourself first this time little half-blood, you have the unfortunate habit of disappearing before you can.”

“Ah, yeah… sorry.”

He raised an eyebrow, looking at me expectantly.

“Oh uh, I’m Percy Ja-“

“Oceanus! Who is that presence? Where does it keep coming from!?”

I decided I should resign myself to being entirely unable to ever introduce myself to my probable dad.

Maybe he just hasn’t gotten a chance to see me in a while? So, he doesn’t know what I looked like?

I hope so.

“Tethys, my love, that presence would be this young Half-Blood.” Oceanus motioned to me.

I bit my lip but ignored the pang in my chest at Oceanus calling Tethys his love, of course he would! Tethys is his wife, even if my mom is amazing and incredible and deserves the whole world, Oceanus wouldn’t have married his wife if he didn’t love her.

The Titans didn’t do that nonsense like the gods did.

The mermaid that approached was familiar, it’s the one I saw in my first dream to the undersea palace. A feeling of just general clean washed over me, curling currents swaying over my skin, interrupting the cold deep currents that I hadn’t even realized I felt.

Her tail the flowiest of any, glittering brilliantly in silvers and blues.

“Oh? The little half-blood from a few months ago.”

I quickly gave her the proper motion of respect.

Her lips twitched like Oceanus’s, “And who might you be little Half-Blood?”

“I’m Percy Ja-“

I woke up.

Why me.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

We’re going on a fieldtrip!

I hate fieldtrips!

Yay!

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

I sat next to Grover, resisting the urge to drown Nancy.

Murder is bad, murder is bad, murder is ba-

Another sandwich piece in Grover’s hair…

Maybe murder wasn’t so bad.

“Don’t, you don’t need to get in trouble with Ms. Dodds here, she has it out for you.”

Grover was holding my arm.

He clearly could tell that I’m ready to fight Nancy.

I scowled but stayed seated.

“She needs to get some taste, peanut butter and ketchup sandwiches in your hair? She might as well just toss her lunch in the trash.”

“Ha just stay calm and hope Ms. Dodds doesn’t see anything.”

I sighed, “Fine.”

It’s probably for the best that Grover stopped me, Triton would be disappointed in me if I let my temper win over in a fight that I can’t win with it.

You’re not supposed to get angry, you’re supposed to make your opponent angry.

I sighed and forced myself to not snap and drown Nancy with the water from my waterskin when she threw another piece of her sandwich at Grover.

This was going to be a long fieldtrip.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

See, I like fieldtrips, in theory.

They could be really fun! But things keep happening on them and well… I’m extremely wary of fieldtrips now.

I tried to not be worried, Mr. Brunner is running this trip after all.

I’m still not sure if he’s trustworthy, but he still doesn’t seem to mean me any harm. Grover nervously wrung his hands now that we were out of the bus.

Ms. Dodds walked right behind the two of us, I worked very hard to keep a happy expression on my face. Don’t need her getting on us about being suspicious or something. That would be bad.

We walked through the museum, Mr. Brunner leading us.

I smiled as I studied the different displays. It wasn’t as cool as what’s under the sea, but it was still pretty impressive.

Oceanus’s palace was cooler though.

My eye twitched as annoying students kept talking and interrupting Mr. Brunner. I was having a hard time hearing his explanation.

I resisted the urge to tell them to shut up, that would get a look from Ms. Dodds, and I did not need that.

Mr. Brunner moved on to talking about some funeral art, explaining the significance and-

“It’s just a naked guy on a wall,” snickered Nancy.

I sighed, “It’s not just a naked guy on a wall, it’s a stele, as Mr. Brunner said it’s a column of stone that has the image of the god that the girl that it once served as the gravestone for worshipped. Honestly if your brain wasn’t the same size as a jellyfish’s then you’d know that Nancy.”

The group laughed as Nancy flushed, glaring at me. Mr. Brunner paused in his story.

“Did you have a comment Mr. Jackson?”

“No sir, sorry for interrupting.” I flushed slightly, whoops.

He nodded then pointed to one of the pictures on the stele, “Perhaps you’ll tell us what this picture represents?”

I brightened, “That would be the Titan King Kronos, the Titan of Time and Agriculture, eating his kids the gods.”

Mr. Brunner nodded, but made a motion with his hand, “And he did this because…”

I bounced on my feet, resisting the urge to smile, “He got a prophecy that said his child would overthrow him, so he ate his children to prevent it. But then his wife, Rhea the Titaness of motherhood, gave him a rock instead of feeding him his youngest, Zeus. Then Zeus grew up, raised in secret by some nymphs, and he tricked Kronos into throwing up-“

“Gross!” A few kids muttered.

“-his other kids by feeding him a mustard and wine mix. Then the gods got together and ended up over throwing him. They cut him into a lot of tiny pieces and threw the pieces into Tartarus.”

Behind me, Nancy Bobofit mumbled to a friend, “Like we’re going to use this in real life. Like it’s going to say on our job applications, ‘Please explain why Kronos ate his kids.’”

“And why, Mr. Jackson,” Mr. Brunner started, “to paraphrase Miss Bobofit’s excellent question, does this matter in real life?”

Grover snickered softly, “Busted.”

“Shut up,” Nancy hissed, her face even brighter red than her hair.

Just more proof to me that Mr. Brunner wasn’t human, I could barely hear her, and I was right next to her.

“Because we can learn from the mistakes of the past to improve ourselves in the present, and it’s also just very interesting.”

Mr. Brunner nodded, though he didn’t seem fully pleased, “That’s very nearly correct Mr. Jackson. Full credit. Zeus did indeed feed Kronos a mixture of mustard and wine, which made him disgorge his other five children, who, of course, being immortal gods, had been living and growing up completely undigested in the Titan’s stomach. The gods defeated their father, sliced him to pieces with his own scythe, and scattered his remains in Tartarus, the darkest part of the Underworld. On that happy note, it’s time for lunch. Ms. Dodds, would you lead us back outside?”

The class drifted off to follow Ms. Dodds. Some of the girls were holding their stomachs, most of the guys were shoving each other and acting like doofuses.

“Mr. Jackson,” Mr. Brunner’s call stopped me from going too.

I paused, turning to him, nudging Grover onward.

“Sir?”

Mr. Brunner looked at me solemnly from an ancient gaze, another point towards him not being human.

“You must learn the answer to my question,” he said seriously.

I chewed my lip, I know what it means, but I also can’t know more until Triton says so. He said it’s dangerous, so I would listen.

“Yes sir.”

“What you learn from me,” he continued, “is vitally important. I expect you to treat it as such. I will accept only the best from you, Percy Jackson.”

I wanted to get angry, it’s unreasonable of him to hold me to higher standards than the rest of the students. It’s frustrating! I tried as hard as I could, and he was a better teacher than many I’d had, but…

I glared at the ground as I nodded, I tried so hard to learn all the names and match them to the proper facts and make sure it was spelled right. It’s so hard to do in English!

I don’t know who he is, if he’s safe or a threat, but I’m so frustrated that he’s holding me to these standards and no one else.

He told me to go outside and eat my lunch as he stared at the stele mournfully.

I wonder if he killed the girl?

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

I stepped outside to see Grover waiting for me right by the door.

I idly noticed Nancy and her friends (I know it’s shocking that she has any) standing nearby too. A storm was forming outside.

We started walking past the fountain, right next to the stairs.

“Detention?” Grover asked as we reached the stairs.

I put my hand on the fountain as I took the first step, “Nah, not-“

“Whoops.”

And Grover was falling.

Nancy laughed, her hand out.

Grover was falling.

My vision went red, roaring in my ears as I yanked.

A scream from Nancy, a cry from Grover.

When I could see again Grover was alright, if soaked.

Nancy was gasping for breath in the fountain, looking like a drowned rat.

The other students were gaping.

“The water-“

“It just reached out-“

“Did you see that?”

“Percy pushed me!” Nancy finally gets the air to speak.

I ignored her, moving to check on Grover.

He coughed, rubbing his butt, but otherwise seemed okay.

My chest loosened. Thank goodness.

“Now honey-“ Ms. Dodds had appeared.

I glared up at her, did she not see what just happened.

“Come with me,” She said.

“Wait!” Grover yelped, “He was just trying to help me!”

Ms. Dodds looked down at him, “Violence is never the answer Mr. Underwood.”

“But-“

“You – will – stay – here.”

I shook my head when Grover looked at me worriedly, pulling my waterskin out of my bag and fingering my trident charm.

“Hold my bag? I’ll be back soon.”

Ms. Dodds turned and walked back up the stairs, “Honey, Now.”

I swallowed and followed, shooting my deluxe I’ll-kill-you-later stare that Triton helped me master at Nancy.

I looked back to Ms. Dodds and was unsurprised to see her at the top of the steps.

The buzz around her was weakening, and the itch of the not-curse was getting stronger. She’s going to attack me.

I walked up the steps regardless, better away from everyone.

She kept going deeper into the museum. When I finally caught up we were back in the Greek and Roman section.

She stood with her arms crossed in from of a big marble frieze of the Greek gods. She was also growling low in her throat.

I swallowed.

“You’ve been giving us problems, honey,” She snarled.

The buzzing was fading, the itch making me want to scratch my arms.

I raised my chin, slid my “princely” face on, and responded, “I’m sorry for any problems I’ve caused Ms. Dodds.”

I held the waterskin tightly, one finger pressed on the lid.

“Did you really think you would get away with it? Or that a simple apology would pardon the crime?”

She looked angry, furious. Her face was creased, I could almost see the change that was starting, the buzz was almost non-existent.

“I don’t understand Ms. Dodds, what crime am I being accused of?”

Thunder boomed as the storm that had been brewing outside broke.

“We are not fools Percy Jackson,” Ms. Dodds continued. “It was only a matter of time before we found you out. Confess, and you will suffer less pain.”

I frowned, there was only one thing I know that has happened lately that she could be accusing me of.

A theft.

Of what, I don’t know, but she seems to be blaming me for it.

My heart sank.

“Ma’am, I’m sorry, I- I don’t think I did whatever you’re accusing me of.”

“Is that your final answer?”

I twisted the lid, “Yes ma’am.”

Then the buzz was gone, and the itch grew almost unbearable.

Her eyes began to glow and then her fingers stretched, turning into talons. Her jacket melted into large, leathery wings.

She turned into a fury!

Uh oh.

I flicked the lid off in one quick move, but before I could call the water, Mr. Brunner wheeled through the doorway of the gallery, holding a pen that positively sung with magic.

“What ho, Percy!” he shouted, and tossed the pen through the air.

Ms. Dodds lunged at me.

I dodged, snatching the ballpoint pen out of the air. I know this tone of magic.

The sword of the sea was in my hand.

Ms. Dodds spun towards me with a snarl and murder in her eyes, “Die honey!”

I went by the instincts that Triton had drilled into me, letting one hand flick out to send a water whip snapping around Ms. Dodds and yanking her to the side the other bringing the sword down right into her shoulder.

It passed clean through her body with a hiss.

She exploded into yellow powder, vaporized on the spot.

All that remained was a claw.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

I walked towards the entrance of the museum again, a buzz was itching at my senses, the same buzz that surrounded Mr. Brunner and Ms. Dodds. Only much louder and much more spread out.

The pen that was a sword that was a pen that was of the sea was clutched in my hand.

I was shaking.

That was the first monster I’d actually fought, the empousai from before doesn’t count.

Triton was going to be furious.

I paused before opening the doors, taking a moment to choke back the sob that wanted to break out.

I want to go home, I want Triton, I want my mom.

I hate this, I hate this, I hate this.

I closed my eyes and pulled the “princely” face on.

I can break down later, to Carl. He won’t judge.

I swallowed once more and took a step forward, opening the doors.

Grover was sitting by the fountain, still wet from me using the water to slow his fall.

Nancy Bobofit was standing soaked from her swim in the fountain, grumbling to her ‘friends’. When she saw me, she gave me an ugly grin.

“I hope Mrs. Kerr whipped your butt.”

I frowned, “Who?”

The buzz grew worse.

“Our teacher. Duh!”

I frowned, is this a spell? Because I killed Ms. Dodds they replaced her with a spell?

The buzz had settled across all the students, but it was still itching at me. I really wanted to cover my ears, it wasn’t quite a sound by it was extremely disconcerting.

I turned away from Nancy, I was too angry with her anyways.

If I stay near her I might try to recreate turning Carl from a guinea pig to a fish.

I focused on Grover, who sucks at lying and who didn’t have an irritating buzz about him.

“Where’s Ms. Dodds.”

He faltered, looking away.

“Who?”

I held back the urge to roll my eyes or scream or cry.

“Nevermind.”

I snatched up my bag and slipped the pen into it. It’s of the sea, and Mr. Brunner gave it to me willingly. If he wants it back, he can ask. Then he can answer my questions.

I sat down on the fountain and pulled out my lunch.

This year is a trainwreck.

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