#i am a marine biology student and my professors would yell at me for this post
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fish r wet. I think. This has been fun fish facts.
#i am a marine biology student and my professors would yell at me for this post#marine biology#marine biology memes#fish#fish memes#there are many benefits to being a marine biologist#wet beast. uh. thursday#it is not actually#wet beast wednesday#because it is thursday but we can pretend
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omg just read your teacher au ahhhhh. Love it smsmsmsm. Any chance if a sequel because omfg I love you're writing and will take anything ahah. If not no biggie. But omg love your writing a lot ahhh. Sorry if this is a lot but wowowow.
Hello Anon! SO SO SO glad you enjoyed it! They are just the blushiest, most clueless losers aren’t they?
Also me whenever anyone says they like my writing:
THANK YOU DARLING!!!!!!!!
And i am but your humble servant so here is a continuation of the first part. This really was supposed to be a quick drabble and it ended up being 1,5K+ words but no-one is surprised at this point :/ ;)
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The week passed by in a blur of classes, coffee, and contemplation over a certain black-haired, green-eyed professor. Jason was becoming fed up with how much he thought about the marine biologist, but everything reminded him of Percy Jackson.
Just yesterday he had passed by a little kid with a dolphin backpack and his first thought was Percy probably knows what species that is. It was such a bizarre and unexciting thought he almost knocked his own teeth in. Now it was Friday: the day he would be surrounded by Percy and everything marine related. He wasn’t sure he was going to survive.
With a deep, calming breathe he hopped out the car and headed towards the Biology and Oceanography building.
“Jason!” A bright voice called.
He turned around, a smile already taking over his face, “Good morning Percy,”
“How are you doing? You ready for today?”
“I’m doing great thanks. Kind of excited.”
Green eyes twinkled, “Well that’s nice to hear, at least one of us is.”
Before he could ask what that meant Percy shoved a cup into his hand, “I got us coffee. Figured we’d need the energy if we’re going to be chaperones for a bunch of over-excited sea creatures.” He winked.
Jason laughed, “Are they a handful?”
“Nah,” Percy chuckled, “They’re just excited for this because we haven’t been able to go for two years.”
“Good morning Prof!” An energetic yell from a dark-skinned, bouncy-curled girl echoed behind them.
“Good morning Hazel,” Percy gave her a dazzling smile.
“Oh and good morning Dr Jason. Prof told us you’d be joining the trip.” He didn’t have the chance to return the greeting before she plunged on. “I hope you’re ready for today, Leo and Frank are bound to do something dumb and end up in a fish tank,” She rolled her eyes, “You know they always manage to break something when we’re in labs. Isn’t that right prof?” She turned to Percy who was smiling unrestrained.
“Yep, I swear those two are more chaotic than I was.”
Jason’s mind immediately conjured up a twenty-one-year-old Percy, tucked into a lab coat and goggles; a frown etched into his forehead and his tongue sticking out in concentration; black hair probably poking up in all directions, and skin bronzed from a combination of his Hispanic heritage and a well-spent summer. He had no doubt the biologist had been a sight for sore eyes even then.
“What’s got you all caught up Dr Grace?” A voice startled him out of his thoughts.
He shook his head, smiling, “Sorry, not fully awake.”
“This is the very reason they invented coffee.” Percy laughed, tipping his own cup in point.
“Hello everyone,” A girl with flowers in her hair and about a dozen pins tacked to her backpack greeted.
“Hello Katie, I like the daisies.”
“Thanks Doc, they’re the easiest to pin down and I figured today was not the day for something elaborate like hibiscus or chrysanthemums. Too many petals you know?” She mused.
Jason was fast realising why Percy was so close to his students. They interacted with each other so easily and with completely unique personalities.
“I’m sure you know Dr Jason Grace,”
“Hello,” He smiled.
“Oh I most certainly know Dr Grace,” Katie grinned, giving her professor a look.
He didn’t miss the blush creeping up Percy’s cheeks.
“Where is everyone?” She frowned, turning to Hazel with a smile and a hug.
Percy checked his watch, “I don’t kn-“
A chorus of hellos, and how are you’s filled the space as students poured in.
“Guys!” Hazel squealed and rushed towards the group.
Once everyone had gathered around and gotten through their various catch-ups, they turned their attention towards their Professor.
“Right I see you’re all here so lets quickly do introductions and then we can pile on the bus. Everyone this is Dr Jason Grace, he’s a neurologist and a professor in the medical department. He will be our first-aid and a chaperone to help me handle you chaotic bunch.”
They all said good morning, exchanging glances and hushed whispers.
A curly-haired blonde grinned, “Hello Doc, how do you feel about swimming with sharks?”
Jason’s eyes widened, turning to Percy.
With a sigh the biologist gave his student a look, “Will, stop trying to get people to go shark-tank diving with you. I told you Dr Grace only has to do what he’s comfortable with.”
“Yes Prof,” The freckles on his face bunched as he smiled cheekily.
“Now let’s get going. We have a guided tour at ten and my mother said only two things are important in life. Punctuality and pancakes.”
“Yea, yea we know,” They all grumbled.
One torturous bus ride later in which Jason was only a couple inches away from Percy they arrived at the Conservation Center.
“Alright everyone, we have a tour now and then it’s free time till one. After that everyone meets up in the main exhibit so we can Feed the Fish and then we’ll make our way to the shark-tank diving for anyone who wants to do it.”
Even though Jason had no idea what was being said half the time the tour was still incredible. The way sea life interacted with one another was fascinating and some of the creatures were mind-boggling, in looks and in activity. The best thing about the tour though, was seeing Percy and his students light up, huge, curious eyes and rapt attention plastered to the various tanks. He knew it wasn’t a regular aquarium tour because the guide and Percy got into intricate details about the anatomies and functions of corals, fish, predators vs. prey and various other topics. The students were fully attentive asking and answering questions like they knew exactly what they needed to know and how they needed to know it.
When it finished at half-eleven the group were chattering incessantly, comparing notes and discussing all sorts of ideas.
Percy’s eyes were lit up with pride and passion as he thanked the guide and turned to his class, “Alright seaweed-brains go enjoy your time. Hazel, Leo and Katie please set alarms to be back here by one.”
“Yes Prof!” They shouted, already bounding away and into the exhibits once more.
“They will all stick together?” Jason asked, wondering why only three of them had to set alarms.
“Yea, they do everything together. I’ve caught them messing around in the library or all grabbing coffee at the café a number of times. I don’t know what it is about this group but they really like each other.”
“And you are very fond of them,” He observed, looking straight into those glowing green eyes.
“Yea, they’re complete chaos but they’re good people and they’re really passionate about my subject. It’s hard not to like them.”
“I’m sure with a professor like you it’s not hard to have passion about anything. I’m sure you’d make rocks interesting.”
“Actually,” Percy lit up, “Rocks are really interesting. There’s so many different types and they all have different functions. Also it’s fascinating to understand why some rocks look this way and others developed that way and-“ He cut himself off, blushing profusely, “Sorry you probably don’t care.”
“I think I care more now than I did before,” Jason grinned, willing to do anything to keep that brightness in those sea-green eyes.
Percy’s cheeks turned a deep shade of ruby, “I minored in geology because there was a lot of useful information regarding formation that helped with marine biology.”
“How’d you get into marine biology anyway?”
He shrugged, “I’ve always been fascinated with the ocean. It’s a whole ecosystem living by a completely different set of rules to land-systems. How did you get into neurology?”
“A lot of head injuries as a kid,” He smirked.
Percy burst out laughing, “What?”
“Yea, I fell on my head a lot as a child and I got a concussion a few times. It fascinated me that my brain could be impacted by it. I mean falling on your leg doesn’t generally stop you from walking, A scrape, maybe some blood and tears, and a band-aid is all we think of it. But falling on your head causes much more damage and it could affect your whole body.”
“That is... dedicated,” Percy gasped, still laughing.
“I was a weird child,” His mouth twitched in amusement.
“Any other strange anecdotes that decided your future?”
“Hours’ worth of them,” He grinned, “I can tell you about the time we lived near a wolf sanctuary and my mother thought it’d be a good idea to have me interact with them. I interned there for a little while so i’m pretty good at analysing wolf injuries and anatomy.”
“I-“ Green eyes blinked in surprise.
“Can I entertain you with my peculiar childhood over dinner? Tomorrow night?” He asked, voice scratchy with nerves.
The smile that graced Percy’s face could make flowers grow, “I would love that.”
“You would?” Jason could not believe what he was hearing.
“Very, very much. And I’m glad you had the guts to ask because I’m ninety percent sure my students were going to throw you in a shark tank and make me rescue you just to get us together.”
It was Jason’s turn to dissolve into laughter. He had never been so full of the future but gods it was invigorating.
#jercy fic#baby fanfic#baby fanfic series#jercy drabble#jercy#PJSSG asks#PJSSG fanfic#PJSSSG series#she speaks#Ciara's convos#jercy teacher AU
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one chapter (first chapter maybe? def towards the beginning though) of my story. i turned it in for a workshop in class (capped at 12 pages double spaced). a note from my workshop document:
“Since this is going to be a longer work, I will likely expand upon Adam’s personal and inner life towards the beginning, so that the breakdown and the subsequent conversation with Ezra don’t feel as sudden. I will definitely add more documents like the emails, maybe therapist’s notes or text messages, and I might play around with POV in some later chapters, however, my plan is for Adam to be the primary narrator throughout.”
also lmk if i get anything egregiously wrong. i do have ptsd myself, but i also consulted 2 of my schizophrenic friends to make sure i didn’t include any details that would conflict with that and also to get details about antipsychotics correct
tw for suicide mentions, mental illness, unreality, some graphic imagery.
[January 21st, 2019 // 9:00 AM] Since I got discharged from the hospital last month, I’ve been grateful to live alone. Granted, it makes the paranoia worse, but I’m the only one who needs to know how often I’ve tried to talk to shadows or woken up yelling at the void. And I’m the only one who needs to know that I, a 30-year-old man, have been sleeping with a nightlight. But look, when my room is completely dark, mirages of my father and Dr. Wronski appear in the corner with their faces peeled off like in an autopsy and they won’t stop apologizing. I tell them I forgive them and they double down, I offer them solace and they weep with guilt, I articulate my own guilt and they articulate what it feels like to die. Only the nightlight makes them go away. Does that all sound stupid? Sure it does, but it feels a lot less stupid when I just need some sleep after another day trying to balance crushing grief with debilitating mental illness with my normal-person job, teaching abnormal psychology. Classes have been back in session since last week, so for a week, I’ve felt like a fish teaching marine biology. Or something out of Mariana’s trench. Ezra walks into my office, looking just a little too put-together for the workday (as usual), perfectly-tailored pants, perfectly ironed shirt, and perfectly styled curls, and snaps me out of my self-pitying daze by setting down a large stack of papers on his desk next to mine. “The anxiety essays,” he says with an imperious sigh. “Was I this dumb in undergrad?” “Probably not,” I say. “You were a little older than them.” “And I actually had anxiety.” He’s made a point of bringing up his own issues since I got back. I think he’s doing it so I don’t feel embarrassed or isolated, but he does love to talk about himself regardless, and besides, the support of one grad student doesn’t outweigh the nastiness of some of the higher-ups. “Do you have any new bits, Ezra?” I try to change the subject to his comedy (he does standup on the side, and I hear he’s not bad). “Eh, nothing good. You look tired.” He brushes me off with forced nonchalance. “I’ve had plenty of work to catch up on.” There’s actually no reason that he should know why I was gone, it’s my business, but he definitely does. Everyone does. I work in the psych department, so the people here know what it means when someone’s witnessed the death of their mentor and is subsequently out for a month with no further explanation than “illness.” “Have you, uh…” he clicks his tongue in thought. “Did you drink coffee this morning?” I nod with an exasperated smile. “Well, y’know, the Keurig’s in the lounge if you need it. And I’m in 522 most of today if you need help. Catching up on work, or whatever.” He drums casually on the doorframe, shoots me finger-guns, and heads down the hall. I like Ezra. He’s my TA now, but we were both in grad school working towards our doctorates together, up until last spring, when I received mine. We’re the same age, and he’s definitely smarter than me (as he is most people), he just started college late. I think it’s very sweet of him not to be a condescending dick to me (I seem to be a popular target for condescending dicks lately) especially because Ezra can muster up a dangerous amount of condescending dickishness when he feels the need. However, I process absolutely none of what he said. I was listening, I was trying to listen anyway, but my head’s not working right, not right now. I really didn’t get enough sleep. It’s a vicious cycle. The hallucinations and intrusive thoughts keep me up, the lack of sleep worsens the severity of the hallucinations and intrusive thoughts. In fact, since I arrived at work forty-five minutes ago, I have kept a mental tally: Sudden and overwhelming urge to stab myself: 3 instances. Sudden and overwhelming urge to stab Dr. Carlisle for looking at me weird: 2 instances (fuck off, it’s not like I’m going to act on it). Sudden and overwhelming urge to break down crying: 45 instances. Rats underneath my desk: Yeah, I don’t know, I called maintenance and they told me they’re fake, so I guess they’re fake, even though I can see them. Hanging woman in the back corner of my office: Don’t mind her, she’ll be gone within the hour. I’ll be sorry to see her go, though. A sense of unreality is creeping in. I try to keep Dr. Beauchamp’s voice in my head, “if there shouldn’t be any real dead people in the room, there are almost definitely no real dead people in the room.” Well, there was that one time, you asshole. No, fuck it, there are almost definitely no real dead people in the room. I reach into my briefcase, desperate for the pill bottle, because I know my thoughts are going to turn into alphabet soup if I don’t do something soon. I split a Clozaril tablet in half and swallow it hastily. I am not supposed to split it in half, and I am not supposed to take more than one dose in a span of 24 hours, and I have a Ph.D. in psychology, obviously I know I’m lowering the efficacy in the long term and increasing my risk of side effects. But at this point, let me die of agranulocytosis if that’s what I’ve got coming. I’ll be out of a job and wasting eleven years of higher education if this shit doesn’t stop. Maybe that isn’t true. It feels true. Maybe it isn’t.
[January 21st, 2019 // 1:30 PM] FROM: Dr. Raymond Carlisle TO: Dr. Adam Collins SUBJECT: Checking in.
Dr. Collins, I sincerely hope all is well. I received word that you cancelled a lecture today. I need hardly tell you that you just had a month off for Winter Break, and two weeks before that for the beginning of your hospitalization. I hardly think an even further extended reprieve from your work is fair, and if you genuinely do, that’s a conversation we need to have. To be frank, Dr. Herrmann and I feel it is irresponsible to allow someone in your condition to continue to work, in the field of psychology no less. Though I do not at all doubt the competence of our colleagues at the medical center, nor your mental facilities, I feel compelled to let you know that if your psychological state continues to cause issues with your work the department might require you to take a leave of absence. While I hope your treatment plan begins to work to its full effect soon, your own safety and the integrity of this department are top priority.
Best wishes, truly,
Dr. Raymond Carlisle Head Professor, Psychology (555) 555-5555
My hands tremble with anger (and hopefully not tardive dyskinesia) as I type my reply.
FROM: Dr. Adam Collins TO: Dr. Raymond Carlisle SUBJECT: Re: Checking In
Dr. Carlisle, all is as well as it possibly can be needs to be. I don’t respect you as a colleague and I believe your total comfort in your new position, which I need hardly remind you is Dr. Wronski’s old position, is quite frankly borderline disrespectful. If it’s irresponsible for someone in “my condition” to continue to work then why do you give a shit if I cancel my lectures? Leave me the fuck alone or I’ll mention you by name in my suicide note. At the moment, it is difficult for me walk by Dr. Wronski’s old office, which I have to do to get to 525 (where that lecture is held). Could I request a change of I was having a panic attack you absolute dick how are YOU allowed to continue to work in the field of psychology when you have NO compassion My new medication has occasionally been making me sick. That issue should be resolved either way after I meet with my psychiatrist next week.
Thank you for your concern, Dr. Adam Collins Department of Psychology
[January 22nd, 2019 // 10:30 AM] I think back to our last faculty meeting, at least my last faculty meeting, in November. It does feel like a while ago, and it’s hard to fathom that Dr. Wronski was still here then. It gets easier to fathom when Dr. Carlisle comes in and takes his seat at the head of the conference table, simply because of how wrong that is. I picture her there instead, how things are supposed to be, how it should have been. I think about how someone should have helped her when they still could have. I really picture her there instead for a moment, her image replacing Carlisle’s. I blink once and she’s gone, and he’s back. As he starts talking, though, I feel a tap on my shoulder and see her behind me for a split second, ephemeral and transparent like the dots in a grid illusion, then she walks away and disappears. My whole body is left feeling cold, sharp, and jolted, as if I fell on a blade without expecting to. I’m filled with dread as I realize Carlisle’s words are simultaneously turning to nonsense and growing louder in my ears, and a high, harsh noise like microphone feedback intertwines itself with his voice. Dr. Wronski reappears in his place again, but she is lifeless this time, blood pooling from her head like it was when I found her, circling her hair in a grim halo. Her eyes are clouded with even more film, her mouth is agape, and I can feel my breathing grow rapid. I squeeze my eyes shut. I know I am in the middle of a meeting; I will not fall apart like this in the middle of a meeting, not when my “mental facilities” are already being called into question. I pinch myself, internally repeating “there are no real dead people here, there are no real dead people here, there are no real dead people here—” “Dr. Collins, are you with us?” Dr. Hermann’s voice pierces through my mantra, entirely unfriendly, entirely accusatory, despite the faux-sweetness she is trying to summon. “Yes.” My voice sounds thin and weak, and blood rushes to my face. I shut my eyes again, since I feel tears prickling at the corners of them. Not fucking here, Jesus Christ, not fucking here, I think to myself. Then I think again about my last meeting, the old hierarchy, the time when I fell asleep at one of these in October after a particularly long night and Dr. Wronski just pulled me aside afterwards and asked if I was okay, and if there was anything she could do. And now the image of her corpse won’t leave my head. It overwhelms me. I don’t see her in the room anymore, but I might as well be back in her office when I first found her body, the first time in my life I had ever truly hoped that I was only seeing a figment of my imagination. The gun in her hand— I try to think of anything else. Anything to keep it at bay. I click my pen repeatedly (Carlisle asks me to stop), I scratch at my wrists and pull at my skin, anything to shift my focus to anything else. Nothing is working. The lump in my throat grows. My heartbeat gets faster, my chest starts to hurt, and suddenly I can smell the blood and rot that permeated the room that night, and I am helpless to stop it— Someone grabs me. I look up to see every eye in the room on me. I can’t breathe, I can’t speak, and I realize I’m in the middle of this meeting, crying and having a full-on panic attack, surrounded by people who already think I’m a headcase. I am sobbing and shaking and unable to steady my breathing and to them it seems completely unprompted at best, and at worst, it seems like it’s because Hermann and Carlisle snapped at me. And even in the midst of my abject humiliation, the image of Dr. Wronski lying in a pool of her own blood is still in my head, still absolutely fucking killing me, and I couldn’t calm down if I tried. I get up and walk out. That’s what fucking happens when I’m forced to try to power through episodes. I could care less what Carlisle does to me right now, I will not stay in there and continue to look like an emotionally unstable baby in front of my colleagues. I go to finish up my breakdown in the privacy of my office, catching a glimpse of myself in a window on the way and hating myself even more at the sight of my own disheveled hair and bright red, tear-streaked face. I sit down and hide underneath my desk, pop another half-a-Clozaril tablet that I try not to choke back up (I’m still hyperventilating so hard I could vomit), and bury my face in my arms. “Adam?” I look up. “Ezra.” I am barely composed, still hyperventilating, swiping at my eyes furiously and futilely. I look away, and I hope maybe he’ll think I’m just sick. I expect him to walk away, pretend that he never saw me like this and just silently let it color his perception of me. But he comes and sits down next to me underneath the desk. I don’t know what to say. “Do you want me to go?” he asks, after a moment. “You don’t have to.” I don’t want to admit it, but I don’t really want him to. Nobody else is this understanding with me anymore. I keep trying to collect myself, barely noticing at first when he puts his hand on my shoulder. “Do you need anything?” I shake my head, still not making eye contact. Theoretically, I’m getting the help I need, and maybe I do need the support of a friend right now too, but I don’t want to trouble him. Besides, I must look pathetic, cowering under a table and weeping, almost comically vulnerable. Hm. “Ezra,” I turn to him, finally, after a few more minutes of whimpering. I know my eyes look crazy, bloodshot to hell. “Can you take me to a mic?” “A mic?” “Yes. A standup mic. I want to see what it’s like.” “Really?” he smirks. “Yes, why not?” I can’t think of the last time I laughed, at least not genuinely. I can’t think of the last time I let myself. My self-loathing has become entirely unfunny, my psyche and my job both absolute nightmares, not to mention the actual nightmares—I need something light. Something just a little bit light. “You would… enjoy that?” “Yeah.” It makes me sad that he seems surprised, though I can’t blame him. I’ve been awfully serious, not even just for the past week or month, but probably since my dad died last spring. He reads my disappointment. “Sorry, Adam, I just… do you like comedy?” “I don’t know. My therapist laughs at my jokes sometimes.” He smiles at that, and I smile too, through dissipating tears. “Well, if you really want to, yeah. The next one is Thursday night.” I nod and take a deep breath. I realize Ezra hasn’t taken his hand off my shoulder, and he is absent-mindedly rubbing circles into my back. Maybe it’s stupid, but I stay as still as I can. I don’t want him to notice that he’s doing it and stop. “Is everyone there funny?” I ask, just to keep his focus. It’s a dumb question. I rephrase myself, “How funny is everyone?” He exhales a chuckle. “Honestly? About thirty people go up every night, sometimes more. They’re mostly shit. Don’t worry, though, there’s plenty to laugh at with the shitty ones.” He proceeds to tell me about the guys who show up high every time and just get up on stage and talk about nonsense (or weed itself) for 5 minutes, the wannabe Dangerfields and Seinfelds and Mulaneys who “never actually managed to glean what joke structure is” (though to be fair, It’s not like I have either), even the bigoted old men still trying with unflinching determination to resurrect “get back in the kitchen” jokes. I am losing myself in his stories, feeling at least marginally more relaxed, when Carlisle appears in my doorway. Ezra takes his hand off my back. Carlisle glances at us with confusion and disgust. “Dr. Collins, if you would please… get up and come see me in my office.” “We’re actually grading papers right now,” Ezra shoots back, in a tone of voice that says “yes, I think you’re stupid.” “Take a break, please,” Carlisle replies, glaring and exiting. I look hesitantly at Ezra, before getting up to follow him. “I do want to come,” I say. “To a mic.” “We’ll talk more later. I should still be here after you’re done facing the wrath of god.” I know I’m about to get chewed out to an extreme degree. Still, I can’t help but grin back at him.
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I wrote a thing.
I’ve been inspired by @writergrump‘s merman Arin AU. It’s super cool and I”m sure everybody in the fandom so far has read it, if you haven’t give it a moment and do so. anyway, I was inspired and this inspiration took flight, they’re completely to thank for the fact that I’ve spent the greater part of the last two weeks researching the ocean and working on this! It’s my work but deeply inspired by them and their themes. This is the first thing I’ve written for egobang, and if enough people like it I will continue and publish the rest! Thank you. 🖤
Fatigue, heavy and hard, settled into his bones. He pumped his arms ferociously, feeling the freezing water suck the energy out of him, but still he pumped his arms and kicked his legs. The sunlight refracted through the water, but it wasn’t warm. He was still so far below the surface, fighting wasn’t helping as his body was continually pulled down. His lungs and fingertips burned from the lack of oxygen. Though the energy was sapping out of his body as he floated further from the surface he continued to swing his arms and kick his legs. He needed air.
An exasperated yell escaped his lips but the ocean cut him short. Sea water eagerly, happily, filled Dan’s mouth and lungs, leaving the taste of salt on every surface it caressed. He was giving up. The lack of oxygen made life just fuzzy enough Dan didn’t realize he had stopped fighting the inevitable. Just as the haze in his vision was closing, the lack of oxygen causing him to black out, I see what looks like an angel. An angel with a tail? Sunshine blonde hair floating around their head, strong arms pushing me towards the surface, and a beautiful tail. Glistening in shades of purples and blues. I see a smile before the blackness takes over.
Dan woke harshly, his breath burning his throat. Hair damp and body covered in the thin film of a cold sweat, almost like he had just been dragged from the ocean again. As Dan’s breathing slowed he practiced the grounding techniques he used in the years following his near drowning.
In the sublime dusk of the early morning Dan looked slowly around his room. He brought his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around.
“I see, a book, my favorite shirt on the ground, phone on the charger to my right, my computer on the desk in front of me, the picture of Debbie and Avi from last Thanksgiving.” Dan states, just above a whisper.
“I can touch my blankets, my pillow, my hair, and if I’m lucky an awesome pair of boobs.
I can hear the birds singing, the grandfather clock in the hall, my neighbors fucking dog, like it isn’t balls early in the fucking morning.
I can smell the soap from my shower last night, and the coffee that started automatically brewing this morning.” Dan took a deep breath in,
“Speaking of the coffee, I can already taste it.” Dan whispered, the cycle finished as he threw back the blankets and made his way to his bathroom.
A quick moment later and Dan was standing in the hot jet of water. The dream quickly fading from his mind as he grasped at the smoky tendrils. All children had a near death experience, Dan thought. As he guided the soap frothed towel across his chest and down his arms. His was weird, he still feels the arms pushing him he still sees the plump pink lips. Dan spent years drawing and coloring the blue-purple tail that he associated with his savior. He understood what the doctors and his parents said. He has excitedly swam too far out, he got swept up in the current, his head was fuzzy as the buildup of carbon dioxide in his lungs drove his brain into insanity. He imagined the water angel, later classified by Dana as they conspired together as a mermaid, as he was miraculously able to break away from the current and swim to the surface.
As he worked the towel down his legs and rinsed off the lingering bubbles Dan thought about the aftermath of his near drowning. His fascination with the ocean, with the aquatic life he was sure he had seen. Instead of developing a fear of the water, as some might do after nearly drowning, Dan had become fascinated, obsessed really. He excelled in the sciences throughout elementary school. Soared through his earth sciences classes in high school and got a scholarship to the University of California – Los Angeles. Here he began majoring in marine biology. His passion only growing year after year as he got involved with more sciences and formulated research theories.
Now, in his final year of his undergraduate degree, Dan had the most coveted research opportunity in the entire school ahead of him. It wasn’t only due to his hard work, assuming that would be a lie. Dan knew, and thought about it with a smile, that his ability to be on the receiving end of this grant, was because of his bond with the physics professor.
Dr. Brian Wecht was a strict looking man approaching his tenure at the University. With a PhD in physics and his interest in the ocean he had become one of Dan’s favorite professors. They had bonded quickly over late nights in the labs and theories on what types of life would succeed in the deepest parts of the ocean. When applying for the Universities largest yearly grant to investigate the depths of the ocean Dan had needed a professor to vouch for him. Brian offered to vouch as well as assist Dan in his application process. Without Brian’s help, Dan was sure he would have lost the grant to a graduate student researching something stupid, like the mating habits of dolphins. No, Dan wanted to research something real, and Dan’s research started today.
By the time Dan was in the kitchen enjoying his coffee and a bagel his phone had been blown up. He had several texts from Brian and the other student on the research project, Suzy.
Pumped?! Was all Suzy had sent, but her excitement was clear through the messaged.
Like Ron Jeremy’s dick! Dan quickly replied, knowing Suzy was probably on her way to the site.
Brian had sent several
Hey super butt baby
Wait was that professional?
Fuck it
I hope you’re ready
We are gonna start this project today
So call me daddy and get your ass down here ASAP
Dan giggled quietly, finishing his bagel. As he typed out a reply to Brian, sometimes it’s impossible to believe the man has a wife, a child and a literal fucking PhD.
That’s not at all professional, Wecht. Be there in a minute.
Though early morning LA traffic was peaceful Dan knows that within forty-five minutes the freeways will be backed up and a fifteen-minute commute will suddenly take an hour. He was thankful that Brian had insisted they be on site before the sun was even up, preferring to get a head start on anything that might go wrong. The man was childish but brilliant, Dan thought as he pulled his car into the beach front area reserved by the University for the research students.
“Dan! Hey!” Suzy shouted, almost tackling Dan in her excited hug. Dan might be considered brilliant by some peers and professors, if that was the case Suzy was a genius. She graduated high school a year early and entered the University at the age of 17 having already completed a year and a half worth of credit hours. She was two years younger than Dan but also a senior looking into grad schools. Her long black hair was only changed by the violet streak she kept. Face only marked by the eyeliner she somehow did every day, making her look as alluring as Cleopatra must have.
“Are you ready? Are you excited? I got you a tea” Suzy handed Dan a warm paper cup that radiated warmth and the calming scent of Earl Grey.
“I think I’m ready. I know I’m excited, I got up before my alarms. Thank you, what did I do to deserve you Scuze?”
“You still don’t, but if you’re lucky you can earn if after today.” Suzy laughed. Leading the way to the pier, where Brian stood. She dressed casually in jeans and a sweater, good choices since the morning chill was still lingering, made worse by the cold ocean stretching out in front of them. Brian, on the other hand, looked stern as always. Blue eyes constantly assessing and taking in the world around him. Slacks and a navy button up completed the look of stern professor. The façade was broken the moment Brian saw Dan though.
“Hey dick.” Brian broke into a smile, shifting his features harsh to soft and fun. “Are you ready to be in the water?”
Dan nodded excitedly, hair bouncing wildly, beyond ready to utilize the Universities multimillion dollar submarine. Behind the layers of science and research questions that has brought him here, basically he was just a kid with a want to go deep into the ocean and see some cool fucking shit.
“Bet your ass! I am beyond ready, I am so wet for this.” Dan walked slightly behind Brian and Suzy as they moved down the pier, toward the submarine waiting for them. Ironically the University had painted the entire submarine banana yellow, when Dan had laughed and pointed out the relevance to the Beatles song released in the 60s Dean Terry had given him a blank stare. He realized the color of the submarine wasn’t inspired by John Lennon before he quietly sat through the rest of the meeting with Dean Terry.
The submarine was fantastic and huge. Large enough to fit two people though today only Dan would be going down. A plethora of buttons and levers, gauges and displays ran over the front of the sub. Measuring everything from temperature, to depth, pressure levels. Tools to grab samples and take pictures were available. Today Suzy, Brian and Danny had gathered to take the sub as deep as they possibly could. The goal was a depth of about 3,500 feet, the ocean floor near California, if they got the submarine to that level with no issues their next mission would put them in Guam, to explore Mariana’s Trench.
“Are you ready, man?” Brian inquired? Looking at Dan as Suzy went over the submarine, doing one of three more checks the team would do before Dan went under.
“I- I think so. I had the nightmare again last night man. But, I want to do this. I need to do this.” Dan had told Suzy and Brian about his childhood, the time he nearly drowned and how that affected his life. “I’m gonna- gonna go change real quick.”
Dan ran to the bathroom, taking less than a moment to change into a wetsuit, preparing for the worst case scenario. When he exited Suzy had finished her check of the submarine and Brian was having his go at it. Dan watched as the man moved methodically, going over every gauge, lever and reading in the submarine before checking the steering and controls. Finding those satisfactory he moved to the oxygen tanks and “just in case equipment stored in the submarine. Checking the pressure gauges to ensure they were working once more Brian gave a contended hum before nodding to Dan.
“I think it’s ready for you.”
Dan jumped into the submarine, feeling the water craft bob under his added weight as it adjusted. Dan checked his gauges and dials, everything fell within the required areas. The oxygen tank was full and the equipment where he could grab it quickly if things went awry. With a last, precautionary verbal check with Suzy and Brian they were finally ready.
Dan was going to dive into the deep.
The descent started normally, the readings remained well within their limits. Pressure gauges weren’t indicating any issues. Dan continued slowly. 250 feet, 500 feet. The pressure in the cabin remained stable. Oxygen levels were good. Dan started looking around. His goal was to simply descend and ascend safely, proving that the craft was ready for their trip to Guam.
“Earth to ‘Sexbang’ I’m thinking a certain scientist forgot to check in with his anxious team.” Suzy’s voice broke through Dan’s thoughts as he took in the sights around him.
“Right Scuze. I’m sorry. Readings look solid on my side. Is the camera feed okay?”
“Camera feed is fantastic. Our readings look good. How are you feeling?” This time the voice was Brian’s, playfulness gone from his tone. Dan imagined him starting at the feed, icy blue eyes roaming the screen as they took in what Dan was seeing and looked for what Dan might miss.
“I’m good. Oxygen is still filtering in well, not yet stuffy. We should add a music player to this damn submarine. I could really go for some Rush right now. Sing to me Brian?”
“In your dreams.”
Dan giggled, once again thankful for the automatic bond he had felt in Brian’s presence and for Suzy, a glue allowing them to get work done while having fun.
“I’m continuing descent. Looks like we are at 1,500 feet now. I think when we get to Guam we should start with margaritas on the beach.”
“I’m only investing in those if Holly gets to come. I’m sure there’s a bird or two there she will be excited to meet.” Suzy added. Always ready to spend more time with Holly. Nothing was written in stone yet, but Dan was sure they were more than friends and roommates like they said.
“I’ll appeal to the dean to allow Holly to come if you let us have one really nice evening on the beach, no paperwork.” Dan said as his descent reached 2,000 feet. Already imagining the fun they would have in Guam.
“Deal.” Suzy’s voice was distracted. Dan heard shuffling as Suzy and Brian moved around the temporary set up.
Time seemed to slow down as things went from great to terrible.
The oxygen levels in the submarine dropped. The cabin erupted into a shrill wine as a red light bathed the dash in front of Dan. Something was wrong.
“D-Dan! Dan, what’s happening?” Brian’s voice was brisk but concerned. The concern was enough to raise the hairs on the back of Dan’s neck.
“I- Brian. I don’t know. All of my readings are fine. They’re not coming across as alarming. What about yours?”
“Everything is good here Dan. Come back up. Slowly. Don’t go any further down. Come back up now.” Suzy’s voice was stern, using the mothering tone she often used when Dan and Brian got out of hand.
“Yeah, I- uh, okay. Yeah.” Dan’s descent had just taken him nearly 2,300 feet below sea level. He was sure only a few seconds had passed, maybe even only one second before Dan heard a popping sound he knew wasn’t good.
“Shit.” Was all Dan heard before water was rushing into the submarine. He didn’t have a spare moment to grab the oxygen. He didn’t have a moment to think.
The water didn’t slow, didn’t hesitate as it rushed into the submarine, filling every space. The water didn’t hesitate as it pushed Dan, hard, to the side knocking his head against the metal siding of the submarine. The water didn’t hesitate as it began to fill Dan’s lungs and his vision faded to blackness.
When Dan woke his lungs were still burning with the sting of salt water. Brian and Suzy leaned over him, concern written over their faces.
“Dan! Oh my god.” Suzy gushed, hands automatically roving over the man, checking for any injuries.
“Scuze?” Dan coughed. “What the fuck happened man?”
Dan looked up to see Suzy looking uncomfortable, Brian looking nearly angry.
“The sub.. something happened. The pressure gauges weren’t reading correctly. Something went wrong.” Brian stated, an unusual edge to his voice as he spoke. “The ships integrity failed about the time you hit 2,500 feet. I think you hit your head. I’m not sure, we should get you to a doctor.”
“I- hit my head? How did I get out?” Nothing made sense, Dan should be dead not here asking questions about how he avoided death by drowning. Again.
At this Brian and Suzy looked uncomfortable, Brian even looked angry. They both looked behind them, Dan followed their gaze.
Stuck in a net was a sight Dan never thought he would see. A man with beautiful brown hair to his shoulders. A pink streak flowing through the hair. A look of dismay on his face as he struggled against his binds. What caught Dan’s eye, took his breath away was the beautiful tail the man had, starting just below his belly button, where a normal humans naval would have been. The tail was an array of pinks, and caught the sun in the most beautiful ways. Dan watched as Dean Terry looked over the creature, a cold curiosity in his eyes.
“They wouldn’t let him get away.” Brian sighed, voice full of sadness and anger. “He saved your life and they captured him.”
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High school Teacher AU
The students had a strong perception when it came to teacher relationships. They had pegged Mr. Jackson and Ms. Chase's latter romance before either even knew they liked one another. To then it just made sense. The Marine Biology teacher was a complete goof ball and his room was coincidentally next to the AP Math teacher who was rather strict but gentle when need be. Of course when it was discovered that they two teachers at the high school had a thing going on the entire student body freaked out in excitement. The two teachers were adored all across the campus. No one was safe from the students' knowing eyes. There was the sweet art teacher Ms. Levesque and the very loveable P.E. teacher Mr. Zhang. The students had groaned for an entire two years while the two made complete fools out of themselves and animatedly denied their feelings for one another until Mr. Jackson had forced them to go on a date together. At least that was what he said. However there were two teachers that were extremely intimidating to the students. Well, at least the freshmen, once you got to know them they were some of the favorites of the students. There was Ms. Grace of course the history teacher. She looked like she could fit in with the other kids. With her wild hair and punk clothes it was a surprise she wasn't fired for not following the dress code. When asked the reply was, "Oh the dress code? Yeah they just gave up on me." The class was never, ever boring, the students were constantly paying attention because if they looked away they would most likely miss something rather hysterical. Then there was the language teacher. Who's room rested across the hall from Ms. Grace's. Most of the students had the language teacher as well which proved to be rather humorous at times. "Okay today we are going to learn about Ancient Rome. What comes with that my friends is a lot of Latin that I cannot read to save my life. So, I have a friend who is going to help. It took some convincing because it's her prep period but please be nice. I'm talking to you Jeremy no sarcasm." The class laughed and joked around a bit before agreeing. "I will be back in like five seconds." Ms. Grace, or Thalia in this instance as that was her first name, three open the door with a dramatic flair earning snickers from her class. She never took anything seriously, including opening a door. Four steps later and she was peeking into the room across the hall. "Hey, you're not busy are you?" The Carmel skinned, Puerto Rican woman glanced up from her desk with a small expression of surprise. "Oh no. Is this the thing you told me about needing help with yesterday?" She questioned. "Yeah if you wouldn't mind. If you're busy I'm sure I can manage." Thalia didn't want to irritate the other teacher. She'd seen what her tamper could look like, particularly with her more difficult class. "I'm free. I have nothing better to do." She smiled and stood up from her chair following the history teacher across the hall. "That was more than five seconds Ms. Grace." A girl pointed out with a small smirk. "My apologies." Thalia pretense to be wounded by her lateness. "Forgive me I beg of you." "Okay..." The girl laughed. "Thank you." Thalia smiled catching the amused look from the language professor standing next to her desk. "Some of you, most of you may know Rey-Ms. Ramírez." "Yah she's the bomb!" Jeremy spoke loudly. "Hi Jeremy." Reyna smiled lightly at the boy who waved spastically. "Jeremy I told you not to scare her." Thalia frowned playfully earning a loud apology. The kid did not know how to speak quietly. "Anyways you have the floor please enlighten us." "Will do Ms. Grace. Watch and learn." The students laughed at Reyna's remark. Thalia sat down on the edge of an empty desk at the back of class watching as the other woman took command of the class easily. The students payed her attention while she spoke. Thalia had watched her teach before and it was interesting how their styles varied. While Reyna was more serious she threw in the occasional joke and kept he nodded casual and relaxing while encouraging the learning minds. The bell rang signaling the end of class and the students gathered their things before bolting for the door. The classroom was empty in a matter of seconds. Thalia clapped slowly from the back of the room. "Bravo. Wonderful lesson." Reyna rolled her eyes at the Punk Teacher's words. "Thank you. I'm glad I could help no need for special thanks." Thalia nodded getting up from her seat at the back of the room. "Your help was appreciated." The history teacher held out her hand and the language teacher took it. Thalia noted that the other teacher's skin was smooth but she gave a firm shake. Admirable. Most people Thalia shook hands with gave a slackened grip, a sign of weakness according to studies. "I must go I have another class." With that Reyna dropped her hand from the hold. "Right. If you need help any time soon let me know." -------- As it would turn out the two teachers helped each other often. They practically shared classrooms by the end of the year and students would see them in the halls talking animatedly to one another. It was odd whenever the two teachers were spotted without one another even in the smallest amounts of free time. Of corse the students took note and immediately began to whisper amongst one another as they had with former teachers wondering if they would ever get together. Over the summer however most of these speculations were forgotten. That was until the next school year rolled around. When the Christmas season came about the new history class lost their minds when they walked into class to see their teacher decorated as a Christmas tree. "What happened?" A boy asked wide eyed. "This is what happens when your co workers need a Christmas tree." Thalia responded. Class went on as usual until half way through the language teacher everyone had come to know waltzed into class with a Christmas tree topper in hand. "The others forgot one very important thing." Thalia frowned as the star was place on her head to the great humor of her students. "Don't pout. Every Christmas tree needs a star." "How did you even get this?" Thalia asked with an appalled look. "Bought it during lunch." Reyna shrugged and with that she left. Once this little incident spread around there campus the speculation roared up once more. The final straw for the students was when they walked into language to find Ms. Grace standing on a desk and trying to fix their teacher's projector. "If you fall in going to laugh." Reyna smiled watching the frowning expression of her fellow teacher. "I am not going to fall. I have impeccable balance." Thalia grumbled ignoring the confused looks of the students as to why the history teacher was on a desk in the middle of the class room. As it turned out the history teacher did not have impeccable balance. Her foot slipped just as she was finishing up her task. Needless to say Reyna did laugh as well as the entire class. "Ooooooowwww." Thalia groaned sitting up and looking at her arm which had a bleeding cut on it. "Don't whine like a baby. I warned you." The laughter of the classroom died down and they all looked at their teacher expectantly, curious to see what she would do. The language teacher beckoned Thalia over to her desk and held up a box of band aids. "I'd give you normal ones but I'm certain you'd like the princess ones best." This resulted in another spirt of laughter from the students at the grumpy look on the history teacher's face. "You know me so well. Princesses are my absolute favorite thing in the whole world. They are so cute." Thalia grumbled opening the box. "Well I'm glad you think so." Reyna mused. "Now thank you for fixing my projector but I have a class to teach." "I'm the better teacher right?" Thalia turned to the class with an expectant look and the students all nodded. "Knew it." "Right." Reyna laughed before Thalia made her way back to her class. The incident spread like wild fire and as he other teachers learned of the rumors they too began to secretly root for the two to get together. It all came to a head when Reyna's car broke down in the driveway after school. Without missing a beat Thalia slipped off her jacket, rolled up her sleeves, and set to work. The weather was rather cold which was a down side but the history teacher wasn't going to quit until the language teacher had a working car again. "Almost done." Thalia grumbled her hands working at the greasy inside of the car. "Than you very much. I swear I don't know what I'd do without you." Reyna sighed watching intently. "Well princess your chariot is officially fixed yet it out." Thalia took a step back and lowered the hood. Her hands were covered in grease and her cheeks were smudged with the same substance. Reyna turned her car on and sure enough the engine roared to life. Getting back out she went to apologize for the inconvenience but instead pointed out that Thalia had grease smudges on her face. Without hesitating Reyna used the sleeve of her jacket to wipe at the smudges. "There good as new." Thalia's cheeks were a slight pink but Reyna was certain it was due to the cold until the punk in a spurt of courage pressed her frozen lips to Reyna's Reyna paused for a moment before sighing and kissing back. Thalia made sure to keep her grease covered hands from ruining the rest of Reyna's clothes as she wrapped her arms around Reyna's waist. The kiss was a long time coming and the two were only interrupted when he sound of cheering greeted them. Both teachers turned completely red in the face I see the entire girl's soccer team clapping and yelling excitedly. Thalia, without missing a beat, gave a theatric bow. Reyna face palmed for the millionth time that day. "Hey, you guys think she should go out with me?" Thalia yelled. "YES!" Came the collective shout. Thalia turned back to Reyna with an expectant look. After collecting herself from her embarrassment Reyna nodded. The soccer team screamed louder and more excitedly than before. And that was how the two loner teachers on campus got together.
#pjo#pjofandom#hoo#heroes of olympus#percy jackson#percy jackon and the olympians#thalia grace#reyna avila ramirez arellano#thaliaxreyna#theyna#reynalia#annabeth chase#percabeth#hazel levesque#frank zhang#frazel
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