#I bring you all the gift of a cursed shitpost

[bugeyedfreaks]

[faceless-mirror]

Chapter 1: Strings That Bind

Ship: Hozier and Farren(ONBC)

Andrew and Farren have been traveling through the centuries. Andrew remembers each time, when each of their times together ended in horrible tragedy. Farren never remembers, but their hearts call to each other in every life time, even if it brings pain. Andrew is breaking now, just needing one happy ending where they don't die crushed to death- sacrificed to old gods- hunted for their love- or torn apart in battle.

All he wants is to have Farren and live in peace. Hopefully, the Gods will grant mercy at last for his past transgressions that led to this cycle.

Taglist: @rowanballard @likehipsters @darkcloverme @holy-shitposting

(If you'd like to be added or removed please let me know)

Red hair splayed out on the pillow behind his head as his eyes followed the moving red strings above him. Andrew had grown up with all his memories of his previous lives, whether it be a gift or a curse from the gods, it wasn’t clear. However, seeing all the red strings that connected others to their soulmates, platonic or otherwise, had remained the same in each of his lives. Laying in the bunk thinking about the past, he couldn’t help but sigh, touching his chest where the silver thread that came from his heart was. The thread was shimmery and soft under his fingertips, closing his eyes. 

If someone is listening, let me find them again. Please… just one happy ending for us…

It was a silent wish. Pleading to the heavens, and to all the deities lost and found, earthy green eyes watering at the memory of how their lives were cut short previously. The blood, the horror, the confusion- wrapping around them tightly, holding them as tight as he could as they both perished trapped.

A soft breath left his lips as he lifted the thread, tugging on it lightly, hoping they would feel it… that they would know he was thinking of them even if they couldn’t see the strings as he did. 

I’ll find you, no matter how long it takes. 

He got out of the bunk, calmly, sitting up and moving to write words welling up with melodies. He knew sleep would not be visiting him for a few more hours, thoughts of them too heavy on his mind. As always, if he thought too hard about them, all the words he couldn’t wait to tell them, and all the past heartbreak would flood back. So much love for them flooded his mind and heart, filling him with desperate longing. Even if all his songs ended up being nothing close to love songs in lyrics, in some way they were his longing and wishes for it to work out. 

No matter. This life would be different. It had to be.

Halfway across the country, Farren was just getting home, exhausted from work and everything in between. They slumped into their sofa, falling face first into the cushions, blue and black hair shimmering in the low light as they yelled into the plush cushion. They didn’t bother moving, getting up, after their scream was done, just laid quietly for a bit longer until they heard a voice.

“So… are you just gonna lay there and force me to sit on your head or are you going to move because I’m holding a hot bowl of ramen and I don’t feel like burning my hand any longer than i need to-” their roommate claimed, leaving the kitchen to walk to the sofa and coffee table. The threat had the desired effect, at least getting Farren to sit up.

Celia sat down setting her bowl down as she did, “Work that bad?” she asked, brushing back a strand of messy blonde hair, glancing at their exhausted roommate. 

“Yes! How did these people make it to adulthood?” they demanded with a frustrated scream waving their hands for a moment before hiding their face in their hands.

“They made it by sheer dumb luck-” Celia answered calmly, taking a slurp from their still-too-hot bowl, nearly screaming as they tried to cool it down any way they could.

Farren smiled slightly, leaning their head back stormy eyes closing for a bit as they breathed. “I’m just tired of people being dumb…” they sighed, getting up to change out of their uniform, if it could be called that. It was a low-cut black shirt, and tight jeans that were nothing but discomfort. It worked well for the club but the clothes were the last thing they wanted when they were off work. 

“Did they at least tip you?”

“Of course they did- Why wouldn’t the idiots tip the bartender with their tits out?” Farren called with a sigh, changing into something more comfortable, a breathable flannel and pajama shorts. They shot Celia a smile, going to the kitchen to grab a few cheese sticks. It wasn’t much but at least it was something. 

Celia watched as they curled up in the corner, “Any chance you’re going to make it to the concert?” 

“Doubtful.” they answered softly, “But that’s okay. I can’t justify spending that much on tickets.” 

“You always say that- unless it's like some tiny band at a bar-”

“Hey. Fifteen dollars versus a hundred is a massive difference- and I get to be right against the stage- and hang with the band-” Farren countered, visibly offended at the statement, hand pressed to their chest in mock horror.

“Fine- Fine-! Good points… but still. He’s been your favorite for a long time and he’s finally touring again-”

Farren held up a hand to stop their companion’s ramblings that they had heard dozens of times through the month already. “I know. But… I can’t afford it. And I would have to spend almost four hundred dollars by now to get a single ticket- I’m fine without going.”

In all honesty, they would love to attend. But it felt wrong to attend, something keeping them from attending. Something rooting them in place. They didn’t know yet, but their gut had never once steered them wrong. 

A few more hours passed, before they made their way to their room and opened their computer to check and see if any of their applications to bartend elsewhere had been taken. Or any of the artist positions had reached out. A few emails from clients, demanding their projects be done sooner- all the same it felt like. Nothing new. Sinking back into their computer chair they yawned covering their mouth to hide their yawn. There was a new job listing, asking for an artist for a mural at a concert venue. The same venue was looking for a bartender, to work specifically backstage. Taking a chance Farren applied, sending in their portfolio without much thought. It was like screaming into an endless void some days.

They had the next day off, they would be able to work on their art and get some things out before their next shift. Hopeful at the very least for that income, they closed their laptop, and turned into their bed, collapsing into a deep sleep filled with flashes of green and life, sunlight and hope. 

A few flashes of a face but not much more, it had always been the same ever since they were small. Sometimes there would be fire, rage, pain, and terror. All their dreams seemed to line up and help them with their art so at the very least they were grateful for that.

[witchcraft-in-wonderland]

Serpent's Fangs (Pt.1)

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

It was always so cold here. Roman could have worn any number of layers and yet it would never do him any good. It seemed like snow fell thicker every day.

He supposed he was lucky, living in a lavish mansion with his older brother and his parents, much closer to a warm fire than the less fortunate population. But he missed the outside world, missed the feeling of the grass under his feet and the warm summer breeze on his face. He missed flowers and singing and dancing. He missed normalcy.

But normalcy wasnt allowed when your country was overrun by vampires, who had brought with them the curse of an infinite frost.

They spoke highly of a king, though no one had ever seen him before. Roman suspected he was the cause of all this, and if Roman had any say he would march right up to the castle on the hill and force the king to reverse the winter himself.

"Roman, you cant just tell a vampire to stop cursing people, you have to seduce him into it," Remus said over dinner, much to the dismay of their parents.

"Oh yeah, seduce a vampire, that sounds easy," Roman said, crossing his legs and tilting his head against his hand.

"It is if you're not a coward," Remus said mockingly. Roman cast him an offended glare, causing the older boy to burst into laughter.

"Boys, no one is seducing any vampires. You are above such things as flirting with the dead," their mother said from the end of the table in a disgusted tone. Remus rolled his eyes and poked at his food. The family remained quiet for the rest of dinner, the only noise came from the ravens they kept in the garden.

Roman liked the ravens, they were nice to him, he fed them and they brought him gifts. He also enjoyed spending time with their handlers. A boy and a girl, Virgil and Hera Liddell. He didnt know much about the two, while they talked often it was mostly to ask questions about him, never wanting to discuss their own lives.

"Well what are we going to do about it then? The ravens are freezing their feathers off out here!" On this particular day they'd decided to plan how to sneak Roman out so he could try and solve this issue, Virgil was casting worried glances back and forth, pulling on the strings of his jacket, Hera, who Virgil had decided was much to young to be involved in this, was huddled by the ravens, brushing a hand along their backs.

"Well we could sneak out in one of the resource carts, I think they're making a delivery tonight arent they?" Roman said, running a gloved hand through the snow.

"Roman, this is important, please tell me you are not thinking about stowing away in a cart of chickens just to get into a castle on a hill," Virgil said, raising an eyebrow. Roman stayed silent.

"Roman."

"Well how hard can it be! I get in the cart- cart takes me to the village- I run off while everyone's distracted- and then I'm at the castle!" Roman said.

"You cant get up a hill that quickly on foot," Virgil said in an exasperated tone.

"Well then- maybe if I just, make one of them angry- they'll bring me to him themselves," Roman said.

Virgil and Hera stared at him for a good few seconds.

"Roman? That is the dumbest thing I have ever heard," he said, furrowing his eyebrows.

"Gee thanks for the vote of confidence guys," Roman said bitterly.

"I just dont get why they're doing this, we've never done anything to them!" Hera said, annoyed.

"No one knows kid, vampires dont exist to make sense," Virgil said. The trio talked for a while longer before Roman made an excuse to leave, rushing off to his room. Virgil may have been right in that his ideas were dangerous, but he didnt see what other choice he had. He looked through his closet for the most ordinary looking clothes he had, the only thing he kept on him was a red cloak with white fluff around the edges, and gold embroidery above it. It had been a present from his and Remus' older brother, who'd died when the twins were younger. He fled down the stairs and towards the storage room, settling himself between two of the crates and waiting for the cart to move.

It took much longer than expected for the cart to arrive, by the time Roman had been able to get out, it was nearly dark. He took off toward the castle, a large midnight black monstrosity towering over the village. He hadnt known just how tall of a mountain the castle resided upon was until he was already climbing it. He'd only gotten a little ways up before his legs seemed to give out from under him. He tried crawling further up but any type of movement felt like to much. He lay there for what seemed like hours before he felt something. His body felt like it was made from nothing. This feeling remained for a while, and then he felt cold again. He sat up, looking around.

He was in what looked to be a grand ballroom, laying on the floor.

"Where did?. . ." Roman looked down at his hands, a twisting feeling in his gut. He stood up, walking around, pulling his cloak further over himself. The castle was large and intricate, with gold engravings on black walls. Roman had thought the castle had seemed nice, maybe even peaceful, but that was before he'd opened an ornate black door and come face to face, with a giant black and gold cobra. Roman wanted to run or scream or do something, but instead he just stood their as the creature's eyes opened, and it began to slither towards him, fangs on full view. Just before the cobra could strike, Roman felt weightless again, and collapsed in front of a figure in a black cloak, looking at him out of the corner of one slitted yellow eye.

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

Tag list:

@nerosdayinhell

@willowaudreykeyes

@pricklyfish777

@melodiread

@meowthefluffy

@thecolorfulolive

@thefivecalls

@teamplutoforlife

@frawkeye

@frog-candy-bee

@sleepy-sphinx

@coconut-cluster

@princeymust-slay

@shitpost-sides

[heavenly-roman]

Look At The Stars, Look How They Shine For You

Plot: In which Logan and Virgil both have crushes, and Roman and Patton are done with their shit

Warnings: sympathetic Deceit and Remus, crying, one (1) kiss, flirting, mild swearing, not a warning but roman is non-binary so

Pairing(s): analogical, background roceit (are u surprised?) and background intruality? dukality? moduke? idk it’s pat/remus, platonic drlamp

Word Count: 3894

if you like this, consider buying me a coffee?

Taglist: @emo-disaster @shitpost-sides

(ao3 link!!!)

this was my secret santa gift for @thepurpmann!!! very glad u enjoyed it, and thank u for giving me such a wonderful prompt :)

+++

“-and that’s when I said, listen here, buddy-” “Roman, shut up,” Virgil orders his best friend, who makes an offended noise and places their hand over their heart as if they’ve been wounded.

“I’ll have you know, it is very rude to-”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Virgil waves his hand to dismiss Roman, before gesturing to a boy laughing with his friend. “Who is that? Is he new?”

“Aw, does little emo have a crush?” Roman backs away before their shorter friend can elbow them in the stomach as they anticipated. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry! That’s Liam, or Levi, or Lucas, or… something like that. He’s in my first period math, super smart but kind of a show-off, if you ask me.”

“I don’t think you have any jurisdiction to call anyone a show-off, Princey,” Virgil shrugged, walking towards the boys and leaving Roman to pout.

Virgil approaches the pair, and before his anxiety talks him out of it, he asks the blonde boy, “Hey Patton, do you have the assignment rubric for art? I think I lost mine.”

“Oh yeah of course!” Patton chirps, slinging his backpack in front of him. “Just let me find it!”

Virgil smiles at him, and turns to face Liam or Levi or Lucas. “Sorry for interrupting you guys, it was just uh, important. I’m Virgil.” He rubs the back of his neck, all of his confidence drained from being so close to this new kid.

Liam or Levi or Lucas smiles, and Virgil’s breath catches in his throat. “Don’t worry about it, it was a mundane conversation that was vastly improved when you arrived. I’m Logan.”

Virgil feels his cheeks heat up as he reaches his hand out for Logan to shake. “Nice to meet you, Logan. You new here?”

“I just started here last week actually,” Logan grabs his hand and it takes everything in Virgil to not faint because wow, is he gay and this guy is strong. “Thanks for noticing. Although, I would've appreciated it more if you had noticed when I sat beside you in History class on my first day, and have been sitting there since.”

Virgil sputters, internally scolding himself for not noticing the hot guy that has apparently sat beside him for a whole week . “Oh, uh, sorry, I- that class is just really boring, you know? And I  usually fall asleep or listen to music so I don’t really, um, pay attention to the world around me. So… sorry.”

Logan begins to respond, but Patton beats him to it, pulling out the rubric for Virgil. “Okay, here it is! It’s a little crumpled by it should still be legible!”

“Thanks, Pat,” Virgil takes the sheet of paper and turns back to Logan. “I should get to class. See you in history?”

“Yeah, see you then,” and Virgil thinks he’s imagining the excited glint in Logan’s eyes. He gives a two-finger salute and walks away, completely ignoring Roman’s questions when he rejoins them.

+++

As the bell rang for lunch, Logan files out of class and beginning walking to his locker. Patton jogs to catch up, bumping his shoulder into Logan’s.

“So,” Patton starts, grinning as Logan nods at him to continue. “You and Virgil, huh? Does someone have a little crush?”

“Please, Patton,” Logan scolds, trying to ignore his flushing cheeks. “I just met Virgil today, there is no feasible way-”

“Logan.”

“Alright, I suppose I could be attracted to him,” Logan concedes, hiding his face in his locker to avoid Patton’s teasing gaze. When he emerges from his locker, money in hand to buy lunch, Patton’s mischievous smile greets him, and rightfully so, Logan becomes concerned. The blonde boy links his arm through Logan’s and begins marching them through the hall.

“Well, it’s a great thing that we’re going to have lunch with him and Roman then, isn’t it?” Patton smiles as Logan sputters, ignoring the taller teen’s protests and pulling him along towards the cafeteria. Logan spends their time in line trying to convince his friend to rethink his sabotage plan.

“Patton, this is a bad idea. I just acknowledged my possible feelings for him-”

“Hi Virgil, mind if Logan and I sit with you?”

“Uh, yeah, go ahead,” Virgil gestures for them to sit down. “Roman is just buying their lunch, they’ll be here soon.”

Logan nods stiffly and begins eating his pizza, silently cursing himself for becoming friends with Patton and letting him lead him into this situation. There are a few moments of awkward silence before Virgil speaks up.

“Hey, Logan?”

Logan looks up, wiping his mouth and nodding for Virgil to continue.

“Roman doesn’t know your name, so do you think-”

“You can call me many different names that begin with the letter L?” Logan raises his eyebrow.

“Please?”

“It would be my honour to mess with your friend.”

“A man after my own heart,” Virgil punctuates his sentence by placing his hand on his chest and wiping an imaginary tear from his eye. Logan ducks his head down to hide his blush from the two men he’s sitting with.

It’s then that Roman makes a reappearance, tray in hand, talking to a taller boy with a smirk on his face. The boy walks away and Virgil has to snap his fingers in his friends face to gain their attention.

“Hello? Earth to Roman?” He calls, chuckling at Roman’s love struck face. They shake their head to clear their mind and sit down to join the three other teens.

“Roman, this is Liam,” Virgil introduces, shooting a wink to Logan, who might as well just die right here.

“Pleasure to formally meet you, Liam,” Roman says, taking Logan’s hand to shake. “Say, have you met Dee?”

“Dee?” Logan asks. “Is that the person you were just talking to?”

“I was just talking to him, yes. Isn’t my boyfriend so cute?”

“He’s not your boyfriend, Ro,” Virgil corrects, stabbing his salad with a fork to emphasize his point.

“Not yet, but if he keeps flirting with me like that? I’ll force him to date me.”

“I’m sure there’s a nicer way for you to ask him out,” Patton playfully scolds. He elbows Logan under the table, to which Logan sends him a glare he can only hope is as subtle as he thinks.

“Nah, I think they’re gonna have to use force,” Virgil shrugs. “What do you think, Levi?”

“Levi?” Comes Roman’s confused whisper.

Logan suppresses a laugh and answers, “I don’t think Dee would flirt with you if he had no interest in you, Roman.”

Roman sends Virgil a look that Logan can’t define, and responds, “Thank you! Someone who has some common sense at this table!”

Patton pretends to be offended, while Virgil chooses to throw a cherry tomato at Roman’s face.

“I’m perfectly sensible, thank you very much,” Virgil picks up another tomato and laughs when Roman protects their face.

“If you’re so sensible, why haven’t you asked out-”

“Because Remus has a crush on Patton!” Virgil quickly interrupts.

Logan feels his heart sink. It’s foolish to think that Virgil could have been interested in him. Virgil is hot, funny, snarky, and in no way attracted to the nerd who sits beside him in history class. His breathing grows heavy and there’s a lump in his throat. Tears sting his eyes as he tries to control himself. How could he have been so stupid? And why on Earth is he so upset?

“-knew Remus has a crush on him, it’s very obvious Virgil. Almost as obvious as your crush on-”

“If you’ll all excuse me,” Logan whispers, his voice not able to go any louder in fear of crying in the very open cafeteria. He clambers out of his seat and speedwalks to the bathroom, doing his best to not draw attention to himself. He hears a Logan, wait! From Virgil, followed by a Logan? From Roman, and he can’t bring himself to laugh.

The bathroom is empty, luckily for him, but he throws himself into a stall anyway. He locks the door and takes off his glasses, furiously rubbing at his eyes to shoo away the tears. He thanks himself for having the common sense to have taken his things with him, and chugs half of his water bottle. He does not want a dehydration headache for the rest of the day.

Logan lets himself cry for a minute or two, before he hears the bathroom door open. Upon instinct, he holds his breath and pulls his legs up onto the toilet seat to hide any evidence that he’s there. He’s relieved to see an unfamiliar pair of paint splattered combat boots - that is, until the owner of said boots calls out into the almost empty bathroom, “uh, Logan?”

Logan silently curses - he figures one of the others sent this person in to talk to him, and from the impatient tapping of their boot, he doesn’t think they’ll be leaving anytime soon. He slides his feet off of the toilet seat and stands up, placing his glasses back on his face and takes a deep breath. He opens the stall door, and staring back at him is - Roman? No, a clone of Roman. A much edgier, slightly scarier, more facial hair having, clone.

“They were right, you are cute,” Clone said, looking Logan up and down. They sat against the wall and patted the spot next to them, signalling Logan to sit. Once he did, Clone spoke up. “My name is Remus, I’m Roman’s twin brother.”

“You’re the one that has a crush on Patton?” Logan asked, incredulously. “But you’re…”

“Scary?” Remus fills in, and Logan nods, albeit a little hesitantly. “I get that a lot, don’t worry. Roman will tell you that I’m terrifying, but that’s just because I've pushed them down the stairs one too many times.”

Logan laughs and says, “Well, I think Roman is obligated to be scared of you.”

“You’re right,” Remus sighs. They sit in a comfortable silence as Logan calms his breathing.

“You know,” Remus starts, “I’m not gonna make you talk about whatever made you so upset that you had to run to the bathroom and cry, just know that me, and the others, we’re all here for you, okay? Life sucks sometimes, and all that we can do is be there for each other.”

“Thank you, Remus. I really appreciate it,” Logan stands as the bell rings for third period. “You coming?”

“I’m always fashionably late to class,” Remus leans back against the wall and closes his eyes. “I think if I showed up on time, my teachers would send me to the nurse.”

Logan nods and begins to leave the bathroom, but not before saying, “oh and Remus? Patton’s face lit up when Virgil said you have a crush on him.”

Logan closed the door on Remus’ sputtering, laughing to himself and feeling slightly better.

+++

Virgil repeatedly hits Roman with his sketchbook while they walk him to art class. “I still can’t believe that you would try to tell Logan that I like him!”

“Well I still can’t believe that you tried to trick me with his name!” Roman retorts, catching the book in their hand and throwing it back at Virgil.

“You’re the one that didn’t know his name in the first place.”

“You’re the one that didn’t know he was in your class, smartass.”

Virgil rolls his eyes and waves goodbye to Roman, walking into class and sitting in between Patton and Dee.

“So Dee,” Virgil starts, gaining the boys attention. “When are you planning to officially ask out Roman?”

“I’d probably say the same time you’re planning on officially asking out Logan,” Patton cuts in, innocently shrugging his shoulders.

“I’ve known him for all of one day, Pat.”

“And yet you’re completely infatuated with him.”

“Excuse me, but-“

“Guys?” Dee tries, gaining their attention. “Could you not fight in the middle of class? I don’t think detention would be very ideal for any of us.”

The two boys mumble out their apologies, before Patton turns to Dee. “So when are you asking Roman out?”

Dee flushes and tugs his yellow beanie down over his forehead, “I was thinking of asking them to go with me to the Winter Formal. As a date.”

Patton squeals and Virgil nods approvingly.

“Well, as long as you don’t hurt them, I don’t care what you do.” He leans in close, voice barely above a whisper as he asks, “You know what I did to the last person that broke their heart?”

“Nothing, because you’re a good person and you wouldn’t want to hurt anyone?” Dee suggests.

“You wish, Anderson.”

Dee goes to respond, but their teacher begins class, and Virgil sighs a breath of relief. His relief, however, is lived for around three minutes, before their teacher tells them to use the period to finish their current assignment.

“So,” Patton whispers, and Virgil wishes he could disappear so he doesn’t have to have this conversation. “You planning of asking Logan to the Winter Formal?”

“No,” He whispers back, ignoring Patton’s sad expression.

“Why not?”

“Because,” his sentence is interrupted by their teacher shushing them, and reminding them to get back to work. He continues, whispering now, “ Because I just met him, and I have no clue if he even likes me back.”

“He does, Virgil. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“He says no, we ruin our friendship-“

“The friendship you’ve had for a day?”

“Shut up,” Virgil grumbles, shoving Patton. “It would make everything awkward.”

“More awkward than it is now?” Patton raises his hands in surrender. “If you’d rather be two pining idiots-“

“Hey!”

“-that’s fine by me. But when you decide to act on your feelings? Let me know, and I’ll be there to help.”

+++

Fourth period comes, and Logan finds himself dreading it - he’ll have to face Virgil, and he does not want to explain why he ran off during lunch. He elects to just keep his headphones in and hopefully Virgil will ignore him like he has for the past week.

“Hey, Logan?”

Virgil does not ignore him.

“Uh, yeah, what’s up?” Logan takes out his headphones and cringes at his use of slang. Virgil half smiles and sits down beside him.

“You doing okay?” He asks, and Logan can see the concern in his eyes, and damn it, why does he have to be cute and nice?

“Yes, I am perfectly alright, Virgil. Thank you.”

“Of course,” Virgil bumps their shoulders, before turning to look Logan in the eyes. “Listen, I’m not gonna make you tell me-“

“I already heard that all from Remus, but thank you. I really appreciate it,” Logan chuckles. He turns his attention to the teacher as he announces that he’s handing back tests. He looks over, seeing Virgil pale at the announcement.

Logan knows he didn’t do this test - all of his work from his previous school will be counted up and he’ll continue from the new unit - yet he can’t help but feel dread in the pit of his stomach as the teacher places Virgil’s test on his desk, face down.

Virgil peeks at the top corner of his test and swears under his breath. He’s hitting his forehead with the palm of his hand, and Logan swear he can hear him mutter, “stupid, stupid, stupid,” over and over again.

“Everything, uh, gucci, Virgil?”

Virgil lets outs humourless chuckle. “Uh, yeah, yeah I’m- I’m good, yeah.”

“May I see your test?”

Virgil hesitantly hands over the paper, burying his head in his hands. Logan flips it over and inhales a sharp breath through his teeth. At the top of the page, in large, red numbers, it says 52%, followed by see me after class .

“Virgil?” Logan asks. The hum he gets in response urges him to continue. “Do you need tutoring?”

“Oh, um,” Virgil rubs the back of his neck. “I - I don’t know about that.”

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of, you know that right?”

“Yeah, sure,” but the glossiness of his eyes told Logan a different story.

“How about this - I’ll come over and help you with our homework, and we can think of it as a study group. We’re both learning, yeah?” Logan suggests.

“Yeah,” Virgil nods, a small smile creeping its way back onto his face. “Thanks, Logan.”

“Anything for a friend.”

+++

“So the French Revolution-“

“Which one?”

“Virgil-“

“Sorry, sorry, I just - I don’t know why we’re learning all of this? It seems… unnecessary.”

“Why don’t we take a break?” Logan stands from the desk chair and heads to the door. “We will resume in ten minutes.”

Virgil nods and pulls out his phone as Logan leaves, presumably to go to the bathroom. He scrolls through his notifications - a few from Tumblr, Instagram, until a text from Roman pops up.

From: Princey!!

          VIRGIL VIRGIL VIRGIL

To: Princey!!

          yes roman?

From: Princey!!

          DEE ASKED ME TO THE WINTER FORMAL

         AS A DATE

         WERE GOING ON A DATE

To: Princey!!

          that’s awesome!! glad he finally smartened up

From: Princey!!

          Me too!!!!!!! :)))!!!

         Now you just have to smarten up and ask out Logan and we can go on a triple date!!

To: Princey!!

          triple?

From: Princey!!

          Remus asked Patton out yesterday!!!!

Virgil decided not to answer just ask Logan walked back in. The latter checked his watch. “Still have six minutes left of our break, it seems.”

“Yeah,” Virgil mumbles. At Logan’s concerned look, he elaborated. “Dee finally asked Roman out. They’re going to the Winter Formal together.”

“Thank heavens,” Logan sighs, slumping down into his chair. “If I hear Roman complaining about how Dee won’t ask them out one more time …”

“And, uh… Remus is going with Patton.”

“Really? I’m surprised he didn’t chicken out,” Logan says, shrugging. “So, that just leaves you and me, right?”

“Yeah, um, we’re the only two without…” Virgil’s eyes flick down to Logan’s lips, and he truly hopes that his friend is as oblivious as he says. He swallows hard, adding,  “Without dates.”

“So the logical thing would be to go with each other.”

And Virgil is glad he didn’t choose to take a drink at that moment. His face goes red and he stammers out, “You… you want to go, uh, together? As-“

“As friends, yes. I’m sure it would make for a less… lonely night.” Logan looks unsure, “that is, of course, if you’re not planning on asking someone else.”

“I’m not!” Virgil answers too quickly. “I’m… I’m not.”

“Satisfactory. I suppose we should coordinate, then. What’s your favourite colour?”

+++

“As friends?”

“As friends,” Virgil sighs, adjusting his backpack straps as he walks with Roman. “But he still wants to match, so I’m here to find a blue tux and a purple tie, and honestly, is blue really my colour?”

“Virgil, calm down,” Roman pauses their walking, thankful that the mall isn’t very crowded. “You’re getting worked up. Blue will look lovely on you, I promise. Is he wearing the same thing?”

Virgil takes a deep breath and opens his eyes that he didn’t know he closed. “No, uh, he’s getting a purple suit and blue tie.”

Roman’s gasp would’ve scared Virgil, had he not seen the excitement in his friends' eyes. “You’re wearing each others colours? Virgil that is truly-“

“Say adorable and you’re dead.”

“-adorable.”

“And now I’m shopping without you,” Virgil begins walking away, until Roman catches up to him and reminds him which of the two of them has style, and which one wears a hoodie everyday.

They spend the afternoon going from suit shop to suit shop, only getting mildly distracted when Roman sees a dress they just had to try on.

Finally, they find the perfect suit - navy blue, and very subtly pinstriped. Along with that, Virgil buys a purple tie, matching almost perfectly to the patches on his hoodie.

He’s as ready as he’ll ever be.

+++

Logan sharply knocks three times, and stands back, waiting for the door to open.

“Oh, hello Logan!” Says Virgil’s mother. “Come in, come in, Virgil is almost ready.”

Logan nods, accepting the invitation. He stands in the doorway, tapping his foot. He pats his pocket, and soon after all his worries come to the front of his head. What if he hates it? What if it’s inappropriate for a school dance? What if-

“Logan?” Virgil is right in front of Logan, waving his hand in his face. “You alright?”

“Yes, I’m…” Logan takes the opportunity to finally look at Virgil - his blue suit fitted perfectly around his shoulder, his white shirt contrasting perfectly with his pale skin. Logan feels his mouth go dry, because damn is he gay . “...fine.”

Virgil smirks, “you sure about that?”

“Yes, I am perfectly alright.” Logan clears his throat, “you look… very handsome.”

“Oh, uh, thank you,” Virgil flushes. “You look great, too.”

“Thank you,” Logan smiles.

“Shall we go?”

“Oh, um, actually,” Logan pulls the small box from his pocket. “I got you something.”

Virgil takes the box, the look of surprise on his face morphing into excitement. He pulls out the handkerchief, black with constellations printed on it. “Logan, this is… beautiful. Thank you.”

“Of course. You spoke about how fascinated you were by the stars and I saw it and thought of you, so...” he pulls out a second handkerchief. “I got one for myself, as well. Now we are truly matching.”

Virgil fiddles with the handkerchief and eventually manages to fit it into his pocket. “Now, shall we go?”

“Let’s.”

+++

The venue is decorated with blues and silvers, snowflakes at every table and white Christmas lights strung on the ceiling.

The group found table 16 and sat down with their respective dates.

“So, Logan,” starts Roman. “How’re you enjoying your first official dance at Sanders High?”

“I suppose it’s satisfactory. Though I’m sure the food will not be to my liking,” Logan looks at Virgil and mutters, “my date is quite nice, however.”

The flush on Virgil’s face is enough to tell Logan that he’d heard. “It’s never good, by the way,” he answers.

The DJ turns on a slow song, and Virgil proposes, “Do you want to dance?”

“It would be my honour.”

The two make their way to the dance floor, holding hands and sufficiently blushing. Virgil holds onto Logan’s waist as Logan moves his hands to Virgil’s shoulders. They sway for a short while until Patton “accidentally” pushes them closer together.

Chest to chest, Logan feels his heart figuratively pounding out of his chest. He looks up at Virgil and his partner smiles, and Logan is overwhelmed. He leans up.

He leans up and kisses him.

Virgil, to his credit, is only surprised for about three and a half seconds before he kisses back. His hands move from Logan’s waist to his cheeks, and he pulls him in impossibly closer.

They break apart when the song ends, and pretend to ignore the cheering from their friends. Slowly, Virgil leans down again for a soft, shorter kiss.

“So,” Virgil says.

“So,” Logan replies.

“What do you say we go on a real date, hmm?”

“You mean going to a school dance as friends and then kissing halfway through doesn’t count as a real date?” Logan chuckles, “and here I thought I’d been doing it correctly.”

“You’re a dork.”

“Your dork.”

“Yeah, I guess you are mine.”

[joanofarchetype]

A Connecticut Yankee...a kid...that's all well and good but we really don't talk enough about the werewolf in King Arthur's court

This is not a shitpost — in Le Morte D'Arthur, Sir Thomas Malory makes mention of "Sir Marrok, the good knight that was betrayed with his wyf, for she made hym seven yere a wer-wolf". Of course, Malory lifted the tale of the werewolf knight straight outta "Bisclavret," which is one of the Twelve Lais of Marie de France. And it is...wild. There's also "Melion," an anonymous Breton lai which along with "Biclarel" is believed to have evolved from the same source as "Bisclavret". In this post we're gonna refer to the protagonist as the "knight" or the "wolf-knight" and tell a somewhat composite tale.

(A note: this takes place well before commonly established werewolf lore, which crystallized thanks to Universal's The Wolf Man. Curt Siodmak wrote all that stuff about the full moon and silver bullets in 1941 so well that our common imagination accepted it as ancient fact.)

So anyway our guy is a knight who disappears for a couple nights a week and his wife is like ?????? dude ??????? where ??? do you ???? go ??????

And my dude is like "babe I love you but I can't tell you because you won't look at me the same" and she's like "I am your wIFE you better tell me right quick or otherwise have a good nose for almonds in your oatmeal" (jk she doesn't say that because if she did he might've gotten a little foreshadowing of her treachery, but alas, our man was a sucker)

So the knight tells her he's a werewolf, and on the nights he disappears he's wolfing around the countryside and his wife is like !!!!!!!!!! on the inside but makes sure her face is only 🤔 on the outside

(Mind you, Marie de France goes into how the wife is grossed out because she shared her marriage bed with a beast, which has some interesting implications but we'll get to those later)

She starts digging about his transformation until he explains how in order to return to his human shape, he *needs* to put his human clothes back on or else he'll be stuck as a wolf, at which point wifey is 👀👀👀👀

Wifey's like, "but if ur in wolf form, how do u remember where u put ur clothes lol" and the knight's like, "no no, I retain my human mind even in wolf form and besides, I always put them under this one rock outside this cave"

now bear in mind he's never been able to talk about this to anyone so he's pouring his heart out about his deepest secret which he kept even from his wife & I know we're all pretty used to medieval repression but imagine how it must have felt to share this secret at long last 😥

So to recap:

knight: 🤵🏻🛡🐾🌕🐺🤫😅😍♥️💐 wifey: 👰🏼💭🤢🤔👀🧐💡💡👔💍🔪🔪🔪

Our knight is like "yeah so I was born this way and it's just a part of who I am and whew it's kind of a relief to finally be talking about it with someone"

Wifey nods along 🤔🤔🤔 because she's had a💡moment and is 🍳 up a plan...

so the knight has unleashed (pun intended) his secret for the first time in this life and is feeling just dandy, but what he doesn't know is his wife is already plotting his downfall with her...LOVER (dun dun dunnn)

wifey & her secret lover steal the knight's clothes when he's transformed, essentially trapping him in wolf form, get him declared dead in absentia, marry each other & take over his lands

and the royal court goes for this because at this point the whole kingdom knows about the knight's habit of disappearing for days at a time (because medieval nobles are messy gossipy bitches who live for that drama) so they just assume he abandoned her

*~*ONE YEAR LATER*~* (or if you're Malory, *~*SEVEN YEARS LATER*~*)

the king & hunting party corner the wolf-knight in the woods. knight is overwhelmed at the sight of his monarch & runs up to what for all he knows might be his oblivion to kiss king's feet at which point king's like, "THAT'S NO ORDINARY WOLF. HE SHALL JOIN MY COURT IMMEDIATELY."

the wolf-knight goes to live at court where he's basically regarded as a knight (so the takeaway from this part of the lai is that a literal wild animal had a better chance of becoming a knight in ye olden days than a peasant or a woman but I digress)

anyway so there's a celebration at court and who comes to the party but the ex-wifey's new husband, now a baron. understandably, the wolf-knight does NOT react well and attacks him, and the reaction of everyone at court at this near-mauling isn't to say "whoa whoa maybe bringing a wolf to court was a bad idea" but rather "huh, this wolf has never been hostile towards a human before so obviously this guy must've personally wronged him." which is...progressive.

so the new husband/baron/co-conspirator is all "wtf keep it away from me" and the king is like "idk man, what were you wearing? maybe you smelled like royal beef jerky at the time. seems like you were asking for it"

king & the other barons take wolf-knight to the new baron's property. they just need to figure out what's going on because they're not ready to take sir wolf to his final veterinary visit, u feel? they're attached. now get ready for this next part because it's a doozy.

ex-wifey hears about the king's visit so she's waiting with gifts & cakes & shit. the wolf-knight sees her & immediately BITES OFF HER NOSE & he bites it so good her progeny can feel it & henceforth all her descendants are — I SHIT YOU NOT — born noseless. talk about losing face.

under questioning (*cough cough* torture *cough*) the wife admits to her crimes & yields the stolen clothing, which they put in front of the wolf & he just stares at them until they realize "wow yeah sorry dude our bad" and leave the room to give him privacy

when they see the wolf-knight again he's in his human form and in Marie de France's "Bisclavret" it's expressly written that the king embraces him in the bedchamber and gives him "many kisses" (hashtag heterosexual friends doing heterosexual things)

the king restores the wolf-knight's lands and ex-wifey has to live with her ex-baron in exile, forever marked for her betrayal. some real Mark of Cain shit. (obviously this lai has a lot to say about spousal dissatisfaction but that’s another day’s dissertation)

the wolf-knight (Bisclavret, or Melion, or Marrok, or Sir Wolf or whatever you fancy calling him) not only regains his good name, but also the support of a court which now knows his secret dual nature.

something to be hated or feared, only understood and accepted. no one at court shuns him once the secret's out & no one tries to change or "heal" him of his lycanthropy.

remember when I said we'd come back to the wife's reaction? in "Bisclavret" Marie de France specifically states that upon finding out his secret, the wife no longer wishes to "lie beside him." let's unpack that a bit by exploring similar themes across folklore.

the marriage bed serves as a common motif in tales of animal transformation. ex: in "Beauty and the Beast," the protagonist has to overcome her revulsion towards her suitor's ostensible monstrosity before she can accept his marriage proposal. traditionally these stories with mysterious, beastly husbands who are secretly a true catch serve as an allegory for arranged marriage, designed to help young women process their anxieties about being passed from their father's house to that of a strange new husband.

(we should differentiate these tales from those of an ostensibly appropriate groom who turns out to be a monster in disguise such as "Bluebeard," "Mr. Fox," and "The Robber-Bridegroom," as those deserve a detailed thread of their own but also provide good thematic contrast here)

more often the Beast is kind, patient & gives Beauty the time she needs to the detriment of his own freedom from the curse. once the protagonist gets over her anxiety, she ceases to perceive her groom as just a hulking hairy beast and he can take the shape of a prince at last.

circling back to wolves! in most lore both ancient and modern, werewolves represent something uncontrollable; an animalistic second nature which threatens to literally tear through our well-mannered social façade. "Bisclavret" and its various incarnations don't do that.

if you read "Bisclavret" under a queer critical lens, you can interpret the knight as bisexual; a husband has a secret duality to his nature which he is unable to express in their current social order. significantly, he is born with his lycanthropy rather than being afflicted by the sudden, violent means through which most fictional werewolves are afflicted. it's a part of who he is, and it requires no further explanation or cure.

the wolf-knight finds freedom rather than shame in his lycanthropy, and as a result maintains both honor and control while in wolf form. unlike other famous werewolves, he doesn't function as an expression of tension between the id and the superego.

considering how often wolves are used to imply sexual violence (see also: "Little Red Riding Hood" or its medieval predecessor, "The Grandmother's Tale") this would be a fairly positive portrayal of a bisexual man.

however, his wife doesn't see it that way and is repulsed at the thought of sleeping with him again, so she commits adultery and conspires against him. so really, the crimes in "Bisclavret" have a lot to do with sex, just not sexual violence.

the king's attachment to the wolf & the way he embraces the knight can easily be read as homoerotic. there's absolutely an argument to be made about the normalization of homosocial behavior & male kinship across eras but...two things can be true. either interpretation is valid.

so what we have is a werewolf protagonist — not a villain or tortured anti-hero but an honorable man who isn't made to shed his lycanthropy at the end of the tale (tail). rather, he is accepted by his contemporaries and given a place in society to live as he truly is/ROLL CREDITS

[ickaimp]

[Boku no Hero Academia] Painappuru

@ARINROWAN IS A HORRIBLE VOICE OF REASON. 2,200 words of Eraserhead pineapple flavoured crack, kinda shippy with Present Mic, based off of this post by @textsfromheroacademia​. Totally unbeta’d, we shitpost like heroes. 

The first time  Shōta woke up with a hangover, he found himself in bed with  Hizashi and a pineapple.

Hizashi he could understand, they had been drinking together, and it was the DJ’s house.

The pineapple was a little harder to explain. But given the fact that his head was killing him and his mouth was so dry it felt like he’d swallowed a desert, it really wasn’t that big of a priority to figure out.

Hizashi didn’t have a clue where it came from either, so they ate it for breakfast, with some eggs and rice.

Free food was free food, and new heroes didn’t make much money, especially underground heroes.

And pineapples were expensive.

+++

The second time he woke up with a night of binge drinking, he woke up sore from the battle they’d been celebrating the night before, with three pineapples, and  Hizashi’s foot in his face.

His hangover almost makes him wish he’d lost the fight the night before.

+++

The third time he barely makes it to the toilet before his stomach violently expels everything in his stomach, his insides feeling like they’re trying to twist around his spine as the world spins around him.

It’s a waste of the booze, the amount he throws up, but he feels a little bit better once he flushes the toilet, his body having expelled the toxins.

He stumbles into the kitchen, grabs a glass of water and carefully sips it as he heads back to bed. Where Hizashi is snoring the way only someone with a sound base quirk can, and six pineapples.

Shōta decides as he crawls into bed next to  Hizashi’s warm bulk, that six pineapples is far too many.

+++

He sells three of the pineapples to people he knows who won’t question where he got the fresh fruit.

That, plus two of the pineapples is enough to barter for his first scarf, woven with  steel wire alloy.

The scarf comes in handy while fighting, but he can’t feel a little embarrassed about how he got the funds. He’s heard about doing embarrassing things out of school to fund things, but this is a little ridiculous.

Still, the pineapple is delicious.

+++

It’s a thing.

Whenever Shōta gets drunk, he wakes up with a hangover, Hizashi, and at least one pineapple.

Hizashi at least is understandable. Shōta never thinks to drink on his own, it’s usually with Hizashi’s encouragement, and then they stumble to whose ever house is closer to sleep it off.

The pineapples are harder to explain. They never show up any other time, just when he wakes up after drinking. He can rate how bad a hangover is going to be by how many pineapples he wakes up with.

Three is a happy medium. He hurts a little, but he can still function well enough. And it’s not like anyone other than Hizashi can tell the difference between when he’s hungover and not.

They’re not harmful as far as anyone can figure, certainly no one Shōta has bartered the pineapples to in exchange for his crimefighting gear has ever complained, he’s got a fairly constant demand if he wants it.

And there’s worse traditions than Morning After Hangover Piña Colada.

+++

Once, just as he was drifting off to sleep, he swore he saw a pineapple slowly materialise.

That might have been the alcohol.

+++

Nemuri thinks it’s the funniest thing over the one time she crashes on their couch after drinking to much. She can’t explain it either, but takes great delight in helping to dispose of the pineapple by eating it.

She figures it’s a secondary, useless quirk. Waking up to a prickly fruit, and pineapple.

Shōta happily helps Hizashi escort her out of the apartment. One of Hizashi’s neighbours sees the 18+ Hero leave, laughing hysterically and waving a slice of pineapple in the air, and  Shōta  resolves to himself not to look at the news for at least a day.

+++

It does bring up a good point though, and the next time Present Mic has a gig out of town. Shōta goes and has a drink with some fellow heroes.

He wakes up to Hizashi snoring in his ear, and a pineapple.

Hizashi doesn’t know how he got to Shōta’s house either, but it saved him a trip home, so he’s pretty pleased with it.

+++

They experiment with it without actually saying they’re doing so. Hizashi getting drunk doesn’t do anything.

Shōta getting drunk by himself results in waking up with pineapples.

Both of them getting drunk, even from across the country?

They wake up in bed together, with pineapples.

It’s a little weird, but there are worse secondary quirks to have.

+++

“I left my wallet at home and don’t have cash for a taxi home.”  Hizashi calls from a club, the thick sound of the base reverberating through the phone.  Shōta thinks he’s in Osaka. “Have a drink for me?”

Shōta thinks about it for a moment, then sighs. “You owe me a new bottle of sake.”

“Done.”

+++

Hizashi gives him a bright yellow down sleeping bag instead. Since Shōta is constantly falling asleep everywhere, he might as well be comfortable.

Shōta can’t swear that the bag is bright yellow because of the pineapples, but he’s pretty sure it’s because of the pineapples.

Still, the bag is comfortable, compactible, and it makes taking naps easier.

+++

Nemuri breaks out laughing the first time she spots him sleeping in the bright yellow sleeping bag.

“OOOOOHHHHH!” She sings at the top of her lungs, in great delight. “WHO LIVES IN A PINEAPPLE UNDER THE SEA?!”

Shōta would do something to shut her up, but that’d require waking up.

Eventually she gets tired of singing and wanders off, but not before she gets the tune stuck in Hizashi’s head.

+++

During Present Mic’s next radio show, which  Shōta firmly denies listening to, even though he’s never failed to catch it, Hizashi dedicates a song to a special someone, they know who they are.

Shōta could have lived without the knowledge that there were Spongebob Squarepants theme song remixes.

+++

Nemuri sends an edible fruit bouquet to Present Mic’s office with a note that simply is filled with hearts. It’s mostly pineapple.

They’re mature adult heroes. Seriously.

+++

Somehow, Nemuri becomes a teacher, and so does he. It’s… different. Louder, for sure.

In a weird way, he enjoys it, having a hand in shaping the future, being able to shape things in a way that he can’t as a hero, undercover or not.

Hizashi joins them a year later. He doesn’t tell Shōta about it, surprising  Shōta with his presence, and putting a pineapple on Shōta’s desk instead of an apple.

Nemuri happened to be walking by just as Hizashi does so, and laughs so hard she cries, and some odd rumours circulate about Shōta’s relationship with Nemuri,  Hizashi, and pineapples.

Shōta spends most of the first week of class sighing a lot. Still, it’s nice to be able to see his best friend more often.

+++

Nemuri’s usual perfume gets replaced by the cloying scent pineapple.

Shōta has no idea how that happened.

Incidentally, her headquarters could really use a security upgrade.

+++

The less said about the mysterious pineapple flavoured lube in Shōta’s office desk drawer, the better.

+++

Hizashi gets some too and blew kisses at Nemuri as thank you. She cackled manically back and shouted she was pleased he enjoyed her gift.

Shōta crawls under his desk and takes a nap.

He doesn’t know why he’s friends with these people. Really he doesn’t.  

+++

“So.” Principal Nezumi says, setting down his tea cup as they discuss Shōta’s reasoning behind expelling an entire class of incoming hopeful students. “Tell me about pineapples.”

Shōta shrugs one tired shoulder. “Obnoxious, yellow, and spiky.”

He can hear Hizashi yell outside, even through the closed windows. For a moment, he realises that could also describe Hizashi as well. Obnoxious, yellow, and spiky. Especially his hair.

“True.” Principal Nezumi nods. “And once you get past the prickly exterior, quite sweet, wouldn’t you say?”

Shōta stares at him with dull eyes, realising that they’re not talking about the fruit or   Hizashi anymore.  

And very softly, very quietly, resolves to get very drunk that night.

+++

All Might hands Shōta a pineapple with a bow. “As a thank you, for commendation for making me at teacher.” He says sincerely, smiling his large wide blinding grin. He’s his in larger form, the idiot. “I understand you’re fond of these.”

Shōta stares at the pineapple. Seriously? He had a bunch at home, from the past weekend. This one wasn’t even ripe, for goodness sake.

Endeavour grunts, glaring at the pineapple in his hands. although he looks curious as well. Or as curious as one could, while constantly looking like someone shoved an pineapple up an uncomfortable orifice. “What’s with you and the fruit?” He demands.

“They’re good roasted.” He deadpanned, and wandered off, pulling out his yellow sleeping bag.

Seriously, he was going to kill Hizashi and Nemuri for turning this a public.

+++

Shōta glanced around the cavern he was trapped in, trying to figure out what to do.

If it was just him, he’d go to sleep. But some of his students were here with him as well, which meant that wasn’t an option.

“Ideas?” He deadpanned, glancing around the students trapped with him. Creati, Froppy, Grapehead, Red Riot, Tailman, and Invisible Girl.

All students with physical, non explosive quirks. Which could be both a blessing and a curse, if Bakugō had been with them, the entire place would probably have come down on them already.

He keeps an ear out as the students talk amongst themselves, trying to come up with a solution to their predicament, wishing Hizashi was here. With his quirk, they could blow a clear and easy way out.

“Can you create explosives, Creati?” Froppy asks, her fingers pressed against her lips as she thinks.

Creati grimaces, rubbing the back of her head, then shaking her head. “It’d take more than I can generate.” She apologies.

Shōta glances at his phone, which isn’t getting any signal. However, he can see how late it is, when most people are asleep.

“Can you make saké?”  Shōta asks. “A small bottle’s worth.”

“I…” Creati looks confused.

“You’re going to DRINK?!” Grapehead bellows, like he can’t believe it.

“That’s so manly!” Red Riot cheers.

Creati gives him an uncertain look. Shōta stares back. Either she trusts him or she doesn’t, there’s nothing he can do to change that.

“Yeah.” She finally reluctantly nods. “Anything that’s digested is a little…. strange though.”

Because anything she created was out of her own fat cells, part of her body. “Small amount, as high of a proof as you can make.”  Shōta  nods, pulling out a small canteen and handing it to her.

Froppy looks with interest as Creati takes a deep breath and focuses, a small trickle of fluid seeping from a finger tip into the canteen.

“Thanks.” He salutes her with the canteen before lifting it to drink. “Kampai.”

It’s not the worst tasting thing he’s ever drunk, but it’s high up there. He can feel the alcohol hit him like a fist to the stomach and quickly stops.

“I’m going to sleep.” He informs them, the world already starting to do a bit of a swirl around him. Creati had certainly focused on the high alcohol content portion of his request. “You have about a half hour to come up with either an alternate plan or which direction is ‘out’ before I wake up.”

With that, he stumbles off to a corner pulls out his sleeping bag, curls up and goes to sleep.

The last thing he hears is Tailman’s incredulous voice. “Wait. Is that a pineapple?!”

+++

When Shōta wakes up not quite a half hour later, he wakes up to four pineapples and the familiar sound of Hizashi snoring at his back.

And his students, staring down at him with wide eyes. He nudges Hizashi. “Oi.. Wake up.”

“Five more minutes.” Hizashi whines back, shuffling closer.

“Present Mic-sensei?” Red Riot asks, his voice going up an octave at the end.

Hizashi wakes with a jerk, glancing around, eyes wide in a panic. He figures it out in a second, leaning forward and smacking Shōta’s shoulder. “You jerk.”

Shōta yawns. “Need you to clear an exit.” He says, completely unrepentant. His head is killing him, and he wishes he has another canteen, this one with water.

That saké really had a horrible taste.

He glares up at the kids. “You figure out which way is out?”

Froppy points without hesitation. He mentally awards her extra points for that.

“Ah.” Hizashi stands up, then streaks, his hair sticking out every which way, much like the top of a certain fruit. “Shall we get out of here then?”

“Yes, Sensei!” The students chorus, with a great deal more enthusiasm than Shōta could ever muster. Shōta grimaces at the noise, standing up a great deal more slowly and grabbing the sleeping bag as Hizashi follows Froppy to where she’s sensing air movement.

“Don’t forget the pineapples.”  Hizashi jovially calls, then blasts the rocks away.

-fin-