runaarinn

[runaarinn]

fanfiction writers when they say "this is just a little oneshot" and then drop a 96k word emotional obliteration device

[runaarinn]

i have literally have something to do every day this week. it’s only tuesday and i am overstimulated as hell. release me from the shackles of being a homebody

[runaarinn]

guys this was so cute, i got akaashi and ofbwhabsbwjdvsndvsjsvdhd i love that man sm. pls do this quiz i beg

₊·͟͟͞͞➳❥ i made an uquiz where i sent you on a blind date with a haikyuu character and if you're reading this you're obliged to take it and share your result!! also rate my matchmaking service 5/5 ✭ and tell your grandma about it please thank you

[runaarinn]

for all the writers out there, no matter where you are in your journey🤍

[runaarinn]

A lot of Annabeth's insecurities, most of all around Rachel, stem more from having deep abandonment issues rather than just jealousy.

Think. When her father married and had other kids, she felt as if he had chosen his new family over her. Then, she had Thalia and Luke. Thalia fell in battle and after her return she eventually left to join the hunters, and Luke? He promised Annabeth a family, that he wouldn't fail her, and then he did. He betrayed her and left her, because his hate for the gods was more important that the bond and affection they had for the other.

And then there's Percy, who was annoying when Annabeth met him but after getting to know him she sees that he is funny, kind and brave, and with a heart of gold. He ends up becoming Annabeth's new best friend and she ends up developing romantic feelings for him. But things are complicated. Percy struggles a lot when it comes to talking about his feelings. He has a big destiny ahead of him and could eventually die. And on top of that, Rachel appears! And Annabeth is jealous. Yeah, she is, she is a teenage girl. But also is mostly scared. Because everyone else in her life eventually leaves her, chooses something or someone over her, and she feels like it's going to happen all over again. Percy is either going to make a choice that will get him killed to fulfill his destiny, or he will start dating Rachel and continue growing apart from Annabeth like they'd done for a while after BOTL. Either way, he will end up leaving like everyone else. But the thing is, he survives. And then when he's offered immortality, Annabeth feels like this time is for sure, that he'll choose to be a god, because who wouldn't? That is the obvious choice.

And then he rejects the offer. For many reasons, yeah, because he wanted to help other half-bloods, but also because, as he told Athena, he couldn't leave Annabeth. And Annabeth knew that. Percy could be really bad at talking about feelings but that spoke more than any words. After feeling like no one ever chooses her because there was something or someone more important, Annabeth found herself someone who chose her above anything and anyone else. And anyway that's why I like Percabeth and why they were my first ship.

[runaarinn]

loging in to say, fuck ice! all my homies hate ice!

[runaarinn]

mha angst is always like “class 1a bullies deku!!!!” “class 1 rejects deku!!!” “class 1a betrays deku!!!” what about class 1a are child soldiers rejected by other classes, targeted by other schools, and constantly attacked by villains, through no fault of their own, leading them to only be able to rely on each other and themselves?

[runaarinn]

percy jackson the man you are

hottest thing a man can do

[runaarinn]

⍣ ೋ after the break-up

☆ kuroo, oikawa, daichi, hinata, bokuto akaashi, sakusa (prt 2.)

KUROO TETSURO — assuming reader is the one who ended it, he's absolutely blindsided and shocked. he walks around in a daze; to anyone who didn't know him, he just looks tired or whatever. to whoever does, it's clear he's absolutely destroyed and crushed. of course, he'll try to act his best to not let it show how sad he is, but it really shows when his teammates were wondering where he was, only to find him sitting alone on a bench, looking down at his feet somberly.

"kuroo." kenma called out softly, his lips pursed into a line at the sight of his childhood sitting ways away from the rest of his team. it took a minute before kuroo was looking over his shoulder to look over at the shorter lad, his eye-bags dark, lips pursed into a straight line. "...i miss her." kuroo mumbled, looking back down at his feet, one of his hands coming up to brush through his distressed black hair.

he feels even worse when he sees you in the distance, walking home with a friend of yours. he can only think and remember when it was him walking you home, your hand intertwined with his. he chews on his lip as you get smaller and smaller as you walk more into the distance. he misses you.

OIKAWA TORŪ — he acts totally unbothered. his teammates didn't even know the two of you broke up until one of them asked about you jokingly, to which oikawa stuck out his tongue, huffing a "she dumped me," before swiping the nonexistent hair off his shoulder with sass. he thinks he's okay; he feels okay. it doesn't catch up to him until one day he's still practicing long after official practice ended.

oikawa grunted as he jumped into the air, his hand coming up to slap the ball. he can only furrow his eyebrows in annoyance when the ball hits the net, dropping over to the floor. "damn it." he curses, wiping the sweat off his forehead. i'm thirsty, he thinks, looking to the side where you would sit on the floor, watching as he practices.

but you're not there... where are you? "y/n-chan?" he calls out, his eyes looking around the empty gym. "..she's gone oikawa, remember— she broke up with you," a voice speaks from behind him. he turns around to see iwaizumi standing behind him, his eyes low with concern. oikawa feels a pang of hurt within his chest, his face morphing into one of hurt. oh, thats right, you left him.

DAICHI SAWAMURA — please, he's so heartbroken. he's so sad and hurt, when you were breaking up with him, he knew he couldn't change your mind, so he let you go, because he knew that was the best choice for the both of you. he stills watches over you, his protectiveness still present. he'll still watch you in class and in the hallways, his eyes never lingering off you for even a second.

"y/n—y/l/n-san," he says meekly, his eyes watching your face for any discomfort. "how are you doing?" he asks. he still attempts to talk to you, even if you crushed his heart completely. "i'm doing great, daichi-san, how about you? how is volleyball going?" his heart stings at your formality, he would do anything just to hear the way you call him by that cute nickname you gave him.

i'm hurt, i miss you, i miss you—i miss you a lot. can we get back together? "i'm doin' great, we are able to go to nationals, i'm so excited." he says with a forced grin, he hopes you don't notice the way his smile doesn't meet his eyes. "sure, let's go to the rooftop?" you say, slowly getting up from your seat. usually, you'd hold his arm as the two of you walked, but you don't. instead, you walk with a slightly behind him with much of a distance for his taste, but it's okay. he doesn't want to make it anymore awkward than it already is. he'd rather be your friend than loose you completely.

HINATA SHOUYO — he cried, he cried for days. even tsukishima felt bad for him. he was almost like a zombie, and he felt even shittier when he was so exhausted that his spikes were shit. he needed your presence, he needed you to be at his side, but you weren't there at all, you left him, you left him shattered and inconsolable. he nearly got sick with the way he was so sad, almost throwing up a few times because of how hard he cried.

"y/n," he calls out from behind you. you turn your head to look him, removing your hand from your locker. "oh, hey, shouyo," you say sheepishly, tone seemingly afraid and hesitant. you seem to know what he's already feeling. "how are you doing?" you ask, turning your body to face him.

"i.." he stammers, swallowing thickly as he tries to prevent his voice from cracking. "uhm—are you gonna be there for my game next saturday?" he asks, his eyes almost wide with the way he waits for your answer. his eyebrows furrow with sadness when you give him a bittersweet smile, "i.. maybe."

BOKUTO KOUTARO — his emotions are even worse than hinata's. he actually refuses to accept the break-up, and literally gets on his knees to beg you not to leave him. he'll literally wrap his arms around your waist, his head mushed into your belly as he cries into your embrace, mumbling apologies and love confessions. he almost loses a couple of games after the breakup because he was such an emotional wreck.

"see you later y/l/n-san." your friend says, waving a goodbye as you part ways with her. you say a goodbye as well before continuing your walk down the halls. your heart beats nervously, sometimes you see bokuto in this part of the school, but you're not surprised that you do. he pops up in front of you, almost as if he was awaiting for your arrival.

"y/n.." he whines, biting on his lower lip, his hair greatly deflated. you can only sigh at the sight in front of you. "hey, kou.." you say softly, you're not even going to try to switch to his surname or even his full first name either, that'll actually destory him and you know that.

"y/n, can we please just–", "kou," "–can we please just talk about this, i need you." he whimpers, hastily walking over to you, his hands grabbing at your elbows. "koutaro." you sternly say, your use of his first full name as him freezing in place, his lips pursing into a straight line as he tries not to cry. he's then pulling you in for a hug, his head resting in the crook of your neck and he sniffles against you, whining your name like a sweet baby. you can only rub your hand against his back comfortingly before you're pulling away from him for the last time.

AKAASHI KEIJI — he tried to handle it maturely, he really tried. he respects your decision, it'll be unfair to force you to stay in a relationship when you're unhappy. like a mature person, he's polite, so polite everyone almost forgets that you two dated. but not everyone, after all, you two dated for almost two years. he's still concerned for you, though, he still looks out for you, he always will.

"y/l/n-san, do you need help with that?" he asks, quickly coming over to your side when he sees you walking with a bunch of books in your hands. "y-yeah, please, akaashi-kun," you stutter, your arms relaxing when he takes more of the lion's share of the books from you. "thank you, they were really heavy." you joke, cheekily grinning at his help.

"no problem, just helping out." he says, looking straight ahead of him blankly. he seems to be dealing with it as well as he can, of course, he misses you, and he still resists the urge to text you late at night when he's upset. what about you though? you can't help the way you're gazing at him from behind, marveling at his pretty emerald eyes. akaashi notices, of course, but he doesn't take a plan of action to do anything about it, and neither do you. it was your decision after-all.

SAKUSA KIYOOMI — like oikawa, he acts totally unbothered. he'll brush off whenever someone sends their condolences on the breakup, either scolding them for their annoying pity, or not saying anything at all. deep inside, he's almost annoyed at the way he's so hurt. it's helpless, there's no point in being sad when he can't do anything about it. but he does, but it's over. he feels out of place, his daily structure and schedule is disrupted, and silently, he still awaits for you to call for your place back into his life.

"ah! kiyo.." you shout, trailing off when he walks right past you. it stings you greatly, but at the same time, you understand his actions. the two of you dated for nearly four years, since he was a still a young teenager. he avoids you like the plague now, not even sparing you a glance whenever he does come across you.

you won't ever deny it, even if it's a shock for your pride, you miss him. you miss him and his stupid check-ups, him and his annoying pesters of "did you wash your hands?" you thought that he would be okay with remaining as friends, and he did agree to that, but now, it's like you don't even exist to him. to him, you do, but he just refuses to interact with you, his pride hurt and crushed, as for the first time, he's disturbed.

please like and repost with tags

[runaarinn]

i actually love this sm, and girl!dad kuroo on top. I think that if it’s not 2 girls. i think he would have 3 kids, the first 2 being boys — and he’s praying for the last one to be a girl — and low and behold it is a girl! but she acts exactly like her brothers

so is there really much of a difference? kuroo sighs and accepts defeat

Kuroo Tetsuro

🏐ྀི haikyuu headcanons

summary: random heacanons

cw: a lil suggestive

tone: headcanons

character list: kuroo tetsuro

.ᐟ doesn’t allow you to style his hair. very articulate when it comes to this area of his appearance. does enjoy a good scalp massage/scratch though (only on wash days).

.ᐟ doesn’t shave his body unless you ask. ofcourse, he doesn’t go all caveman on you but parts like: armpits, legs, mustache (he thinks he looks italian and finds it funny), he leaves alone

⇧“Babe, you think if I curled the mustaches ends and threw in an Italian accent, I’d slide?”

.ᐟ buys you lots and loads of jewelry. loves to see his s/o decked out in only the top-notch, luxury decor.

.ᐟ makes out with you rough. fast and beastly. that’s how he likes it. whether you can keep up or not doesn’t matter; he likes it sloppy too.♡︎ (picture blair and chuck’s hate sex)

.ᐟ if y’all were to have kids: 2 girls. he believes he has the best understanding over girls, women—females in general. but when he meets his two other angels? truly the most humbling experience. world war III whenever they fuss at him for being too “boyish” while playing dolls.

⇧“Honey—sweethearts! Sorry, lemme try again…” clears throat. Cue the most forced— and worst impression of Dijonay Jones ever.

.ᐟ sometimes gives you funny nicknames when he gets tired of the same-old-same-old. pet names like tiger, crazy pants, wildcat (wild kratts inspired)

⇧“Well lookey here… the tiger’s finally descended from her habitat.” he says, apron tightly tied around his neck, shirtless on purpose. It’s late morning now that you finally wake up; an aroma of breakfast in the air.

.ᐟ big gossiper. many don’t know how he gets his information, but i firmly believe that he’s messy asf. not start-fights-between-girls messy but,

⇧“Hey…” he leans closer. “you heard what ___ and ___ did at the scrimmage last week? Yeah! ___ and ___’s still dating ___ as we speak. Crazy, I know.”

⇧and the gossip never has anything to do with him. shares with the entirely wrong people (bokuto for example: big mouth. couldn’t hold water even to save his life).

.ᐟ loves hamilton (?) [ i personally don’t know much about it but… ] he loves it. the storyline, acting, theme; doesn’t miss a beat. (my guess is because all the characters are so messy in that play💀)

.ᐟ he’s never been a slow kid. calls himself a prodigy, always has—ever since he learned the word, at least. is he? …possibly. does he act like one? fuck no. the cocky bastard just doesn’t know when to put down a book sometimes. specially about science related topics.

#slowestuploaderoftheyear i literally have so many headcanon drafts.. and one unfinished fic. (cooked)🫩

divider cred. to @enchanthings

[runaarinn]

𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖ 𝑷𝑳𝑬𝑨𝑺𝑬 𝑫𝑶𝑵𝑻 𝑻𝑬𝑳𝑳 𝑰𝑾𝑨-𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑵 𝑰𝑴 𝑰𝑵 𝑳𝑶𝑽𝑬 𝑾𝑰𝑻𝑯 𝑯𝑰𝑺 𝑶𝑳𝑫𝑬𝑹 𝑺𝑰𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑹 .ᐟ.ᐟ ⋆.˚

synopsis. Oikawa Tooru has a hopeless crush on his best friend’s older sister — and he’s doing a terrible job hiding it.

- Oikawa fell for you way earlier than he’ll ever admit— probably around his second year, when you dropped by the gym to bring Iwaizumi an umbrella and told him to “don’t be dumb and get sick.” You weren’t even talking to him, but he was completely wrecked.

- He’d never met someone who could shut down his dramatic little speeches with just a look. The first time you raised an eyebrow at him for being too loud in the gym, he went quiet for a full three seconds. Iwaizumi thought he was broken.

- Still, he plays it cool. Or at least tries to. Around you, he switches to this very obvious polite version of himself — bowing a little too perfectly, speaking just a bit more formally than usual, like:

“Ah, Iwa-chans sister! Always a pleasure.”

Iwaizumi throws a volleyball at him every time.

- He makes excuses to hang around you. If Iwaizumi’s walking home with you, suddenly Oikawa is too.

“Oh? You’re going that way? Haha, what a coincidence!” He totally wasn’t waiting around for fifteen minutes or anything…

- He gets flustered so easily and tries to play it off with that usual smirk. You tell him his hair looks nice, and he nearly walks into a streetlamp.

“I mean, it always looks nice,” he mumbles, ears turning flush pink.

- He has this secret little habit of memorizing your favorite snacks or drinks from the vending machines. He’ll act like he just “happened” to grab an extra and offer it to you all casual — but inside he’s screaming.

- You once ruffled his hair and called him a good kid. He didn’t sleep that night. He laid awake thinking, I’m not a kid. I could be boyfriend material. Real boyfriend material.

- He actually does get jealous, makes it known in his own way. If someone else flirts with you, he suddenly starts talking louder, cracking more jokes, throwing in little humble brags like,

“Oh yeah, I’ve had scouts looking at me lately. No big deal.” (It definitely was though.)

- But the second you smile at him, he softens. Completely. It’s obvious in his gaze— he looks at you like he’s trying not to get his hopes up.

- Iwaizumi definitely knows. He just hasn’t said anything. Yet. He gives Oikawa a death glare every time he gets too close to you, but deep down… he can tell Oikawa’s actually serious about you.

- Oikawa jokes around a lot— calling himself the “future brother-in-law” just to rile Iwaizumi up. But if you ever took him aside and said,

“Do you really like me?”

He’d go completely still. Look you right in the eyes.

And say, with no teasing this time,

“Yeah. I do.”

© yammpi3 2025. All work belongs to @yammpi3. You can repost if you want to support my blog/writing! Please don't modify, translate, or plagiarize in any way on ANY platform.

[runaarinn]

my mutuals are so awesome but my conversation skills are much less awesome

[runaarinn]

the em dash means everything to me — like literally how could you not like it?? it’s just so — mmm. it’s so cunt idc

you are going to need to pry the em dash out of my cold, dead hands. idc

[runaarinn]

HELLO. HELLO?? 😭

✦ — 6. apocalypse

⋆.˚✮ prev ⟡ m. list ⟡ next ✮ 2.7k words

-> hitoshi shinsou x pro-hero!reader

✮ you and hitoshi are stranded, alone, as you wait for backup. tonight is the night that changes everything… ✮ tracklist: we hug now - sydney rose, drivers license - olivia rodrigo, bags - clairo, traitor - olivia rodrigo, apocalypse - cigarettes after sex, i know you - faye webster

you’re not sure how you ended up in the street in the middle of the night, or why it’s so foggy. you just woke up, and your brain’s still a little muddled. 

it’s cold, you think, rubbing your arms in warmth and semi-comfort. 

the street is eerily empty, even for whatever ungodly hour it probably is. some weird force keeps you moving along, drawing you up the street and to a building that you vaguely recognize. it’s buried somewhere deep in your memory, and even though it wasn’t really all that long ago, it feels like a lifetime since you’ve seen it. 

you’re drawn inside, not fully in control and led by some strange curiosity. 

“‘toshi?” 

he looks up from where he was standing at a desk nearby. there’s a mountain of papers in front of him, and his forehead is creased in a way you don’t like. 

his expression changes when he sees you, that little private smile that’s reserved only for you evident in his face. “hey. you’re late again.”

you are…?

“…right, sorry,” you agree, shaking your head and laughing nervously. 

“did the press get ahold of you?”

you can’t quite remember. you’re about to say so, but he shakes his head, mumbling something to himself. 

“doesn’t matter,” he says, to you this time. “we’re off to the mountains soon anyway. they won’t bother us up there, and the snow should be a nice change of pace. but make sure you’re actually packed this time, i don’t want a repeat of okinawa.”

his words spark up memories from deep inside your brain.

the snow…the mountains…farther back than that, to the beaches of okinawa. a mission, easily completed, extra time enough to lounge at a shitty beach hotel nearby. wearing hitoshi’s swim trunks after having forgotten your bathing suit. the smell of aloe vera and hitoshi’s pink, sunburnt nose. steam in the air from the hot springs, the taste of coconut water on hitoshi’s lips. 

he calls your name and you’re brought back to present, though his voice seems to echo in your mind. 

“you okay?” he asks, cracking a half-smile. if you hadn’t known him so long, he’d almost sound unbothered. 

his shoulder is warm against yours when he nudges you as you both sit against the desk. “i feel like you’ve been kind of off lately…”

you shake your head again, growing increasingly more nervous. there’s something else too, but you can’t place it. 

“i just…i don’t know, i guess i’ve been thinking.”

he snorts. “don’t hurt yourself.”

you don’t say anything in response to his quip, and he tilts his head in question. he’s struggling to hang on to that smile, even as he calls you a nickname you haven’t heard in years. “what’s the matter with you?”

he nudges you again as he says it, and your arm lights up with goosebumps.

“‘toshi, are you gonna stay an indie hero forever?” you ask abruptly, unable to stop yourself. you know how the rest of this is going to play out, but it’s like you can’t even control it. 

hitoshi blinks at you, taken aback by your sudden question. 

“i don’t know,” he says slowly, once he’s regained his bearings. his brow is creasing again, in that way you don’t like. “why?”

“i just…want to know.”

he mulls the question over for another long moment. the more time passes, the more your stomach twists. 

“i don’t know. maybe, i guess. i don’t think i want to work for anyone, and opening an agency of our own would be a lot of work. maybe one day though, like we said we’d do.”

it’s true that in u.a. you both had thought about maybe opening an agency together, like bakugou and kirishima would always talk about. but after graduation, it was all you two could do to stay afloat in the turbulent years of an early hero career. 

things have mostly evened out by now, but the plateau has given you time to think, about things you’ve never really considered before. 

“i’ve never wanted to work with anyone other than you,” hitoshi says, oblivious to your inner turmoil just now. “we said we’d make it big together or not at all.”

you can’t bring yourself to return the soft smile he offers. 

“i got a job offer with the lurkers,” you whisper. you regret the words immediately when you see the way hitoshi’s face falls, the way his pupils dilate. 

“what?”

your eyes drop to your lap, unable to face him as guilt creeps up your spine. 

“i…i got a call today. from edgeshot. he was really impressed with my work in kyoto. he said i could be a valuable addition to the team. and i think…i think i want to take it, ‘toshi.”

you may as well have told him you’re moving to the moon with the way he’s looking at you. 

you scramble to fill the silence that’s slowly suffocating the room. “he hasn’t mentioned anything about us yet, but i think we could get him to take you on! i mean, we make a good team and you’re a great hero, i’m sure we can figure—”

“you’ve given this a lot of thought, haven’t you?” 

you’ve heard hitoshi when he’s mad before. the depths of his anger are rare, but you’ve seen it when you’ve fought villains or dealt with asshole commission officials. 

this is worse somehow. the ice in his voice, it’s like you can feel him starting to slip away. 

“have you been planning this?” 

“no!” you reply indignantly. “i just got the call today!”

“but you’ve been waiting on it, haven’t you?” 

“on what?” you groan, clutching your head as you buckle under the weight of what’s approaching accusation. 

“an out.”

“you’re being ridiculous!” you exclaim, frustration building on the guilt. “and you’re projecting!”

his eyes narrow in a way that makes your stomach sink. “oh, i’m projecting? i’m not the one having delusions of grandeur!”

“delusions?!”

he scoffs, scathing. “right, ‘cause you’re magically going to rocket to number one if you take this job.”

“not if,” you snap. “when.”

he barks out an abrupt laugh of disbelief. “so you’ve decided!”

“i just feel like we were meant for more than this!”

“us or you?” 

you stare like a deer in headlights. you can’t say anything as he continues. 

 “‘cause i’ve been perfectly happy staying right where i am — with you. and i thought that was all that mattered.”

“it does matter, ‘toshi! but i…i…”

“you what?” 

hitoshi heaves a big sigh, and his next words seem almost painful to get out. there’s a strain on his voice that makes it hard to swallow the lump in your throat. 

“look, i know our pay is shit, and our hours are even worse. i know we don’t fly first class or stay in five-star hotels or get billboards with our faces on them. i know we barely make double digit rank, but i’m okay with that. because i have you. and if that’s not what you want anymore…” he shrugs, almost defeatedly. there’s a hollowness to his voice that makes you feel sick. “then i guess it’s better you go. just…just don’t expect me to follow.”

he looks like he wants to say something more, a deep longing hidden somewhere in those violet eyes. but all he says instead is, “congrats on the job. you’re going to do great, i know it…”

and just like that, he’s gone. 

you wake up in a cold sweat, chest heaving. you sit up, the covers beginning to feel a little suffocating. the dream had warped the memory a bit, but your subconscious sure managed to recreate the exact feeling of your stomach sinking, the anger and loneliness and desolation. you drop your head into your hands, scrubbing at your eyes, but the sight of hitoshi’s back as he left is burned into the back of your eyelids. 

you hear the sheets rustle as he turns, calling your name softly into the dark. 

“it’s nothing,” you say, like reflex. your voice is strained. “i’m fine, go back to sleep.”

you feel the mattress dip and see him in your peripheral as he sits up beside you, but you can’t bring yourself to face him. 

“tell me what’s wrong.”

the thing about hitoshi is that he has never once used his quirk on you. but he doesn’t have to, because anytime he tells you anything in that tone — soft, gentle but firm and secure — you can’t help but give in. 

“i had a bad dream,” you whisper, almost against your will. you’re mortified at the tears welling up in your eyes, willing them to stop. 

his purple eyes soften immediately and the sheets rustle as he scoots closer. 

“do you wanna talk about it?” he murmurs, fingers gently ghosting over your arm. 

the touch startles you at first and he draws back, looking guilty, until you whisper for him to continue. 

so he does. you don’t really know it, but you’ve got that same power over him. 

you both remain silent like that for a long time. you think you’d cry if you said anything else, and the idea of crying in front of hitoshi right now is humiliating. you know he wouldn’t judge you for it, but really that just makes it all the worse. 

after a while you let yourself lean on his arms around you, staring at the hem of his oversized sleeping shirt, at the defined line of his collarbone peeking out underneath. it’s a fragile silence, hitoshi waiting to see if you’ll say anything else. 

“it’s stupid,” you say in a shaky breath after a long moment. “i…i saw that night. the night you left. such a stupid thing to dream about, but i just…”

you trail off, the haze of nostalgia and exhaustion and loneliness catching up to you. you shrug helplessly and huff a desolate little laugh. “nightmares, right? never make any sense…”

the sheets and hitoshi’s hands are pleasantly cool against your flushed body, and you try to focus on that instead of the anxiety swimming in your gut. 

it’s another long moment before hitoshi speaks. “does this…happen often?” 

you could probably be embarrassed, but you’re too tired, and the steadiness of his arms around you feels like falling into bed after a long day. his embrace makes you pliant, the same way that being around him had always opened you up. 

“sometimes,” you admit after a while. “i’ve always had nightmares, ever since u.a., but i only see you every so often. sometimes it changes, but it always ends the same. your back to me, retreating away into the night.” you demonstrate with a vague hand gesture, palm to you upright, and then flipped away. “and me standing there all by myself in the middle of the street. i remember it so vividly…your face, the night, the…the betrayal in your eyes. the feeling of losing you…”

your eyes flick up to hitoshi, trying to read his pretty purple eyes. they’re soft and dark like polished amethyst in the dim room, low-lidded and yearning as they meet yours. 

“do you?” you ask softly, curiosity getting the better of you. “ever dream about me, i mean.”

he cracks the tiniest ghost of a smile. you feel the puff of air that leaves his nose, his almost-chuckle. 

“on the good nights. ‘f i’m lucky.”

his words conjure up an image that makes your heart hurt. hitoshi, laying awake in the unholy witching hours of the night, reaching for you in a dream and watching you disappear before his eyes. treasuring the smile he only sees in his dreams. 

“you wanna know a secret?” 

you look back up at him. there’s a wry look on his face you’re quite familiar with. “yeah.”

“every time i close my eyes i’m scared you won’t be there when they open.”

oh, if you thought you knew heartbreak…

you drop your head on his shoulder, speech muffled into his shirt when you speak in a helpless plea. “why would you say that to me?”

his hands brushing your hair back and resting atop your head is a small comfort. “‘cause i hate lying to you. and you have this way of making me say things i didn’t really plan on saying.”

the tears begin to well back up before you can stop them. your eyes are big and glassy when you look back up at him once more, lips dry and heart squeezing almost painfully. 

“i think i fucked up, ‘toshi,” you confess in a haunted whisper. “i think i fucked up really bad, and i’m really sorry.”

he gives a sad half-smile, probably more for your benefit than his own. why did he always do that? 

“‘s okay.”

“it’s not,” you insist, fists balling in his shirt as the tears begin to spill. “it’s not okay. i should’ve never let you go.”

hitoshi holds you as you cry, pulling you ever closer until not even a sheet of paper could fit between you. “it’s going to be okay,” he whispers into your hair, cradling you into him. “it’s okay now. things are different, but they’re going to be okay. and i’m here now, okay?”

you stay like that until you’ve cried yourself out. the whole thing is a blur of clenched, entwined hands and gentle fingers brushing away stray tears and the scent of lavender laundry detergent. 

you’re both horizontal now, face to face just inches apart. hitoshi’s arms are loose, but steady around you. 

you’re not sure what gives you the courage to do so, maybe the delirium of exhaustion, but you reach out to brush your fingers against his face. you sweep his bangs back, his skin soft and hair smooth under your feathery touch. 

“i missed your five-head,” you murmur, smiling to yourself. he snorts, though a matching smile tugs at his own lips. 

“you’re such a dork.”

you try to form a snarky reply, but sleep is quickly reclaiming you. your head buries itself in the crook of his neck and you’re out like a light, blissfully unaware of the way his arms tighten securely around you. 

you wake in a tangle of limbs to the sound of your phone chirping. 

the sound jolts hitoshi awake and you both scramble to untangle from the other as you lunge for the phone. he tugs the comforter by accident, and you both cry out when your heads collide from the clash. 

you fumble for your phone, groaning and rubbing your head when you pick it up. the buzzing doesn’t stop and you wonder if you’re still sleeping, but it stops when hitoshi picks up his own cell. 

familiar voices fill your ear and you wince at the volume of them. 

kamui and takeyama are screeching and passing the phone back and forth in a scramble to speak to you. they’re so loud you have to hold the receiver away from your ear. 

“are you safe?” kamui demands in that quiet, though caring and undoubtedly concerned tone of his. 

“yeah, ‘m fine.”

“where are you?” chimes in takeyama. 

“we had to hide out…? what the hell are you calling about this early?”

“it’s eleven in the morning…”

“who is we?!”

“are you with nighthide?”

“juicy!!”

“quiet, yu.”

the two of the bicker back and forth some more and you look over at hitoshi, who is also on the phone. if you strain your ears you can make out the quiet voice of aizawa-sensei. 

“huh?” 

hitoshi looks puzzled for a second before he glances at you just briefly. you flush and look away. 

“no, it’s…nothing,” he says into the phone, “just—”

you’re drawn back to kamui and takeyama, who have finally stopped bickering and are focused again on you. 

“we’re laying low until things blow over, edgeshot knows where we are and he’ll probably be in contact soon. just—”

“edgeshot hasn’t come into the office today,” kamui cuts in. 

your heart sinks into your stomach. “what?”

“we haven’t heard from him since last night. there’s patrols out everywhere looking for you but—”

“nishiya, tell them to turn on the news.”

“yuu, i’m still speaking—”

“now!”

the urgency in her tone startles you and you look over to hitoshi, who looks equally concerned with whatever aizawa is telling him. 

you both reach for the remote at the same time in what feels like slow motion, and that’s about when the building starts to come down. 

dividers by @/saradika-graphics, header by kitty with pics from pinterest!

taglist: @deadhands69 @frvv @cccandynecklaces @tokeposts @lover-no-lover61 @getvaccinated @accidentpronedork @crushmeeren @p4rkcha3w0n @cyberesc @bloomness @eloshifts @bythevay @cc1306 @nobodybutnnoorr @rikaroses (ask/comment if you’d like to be added!)

eep!! we’ve finally come about to almost the end 🥹🥹🥹 next chapter will be the grand finale. stay tuned and thanks for the support so far!! <33

[runaarinn]

currently tweaking out reading ‘see you again’ kitty why would you do this to me. my babies , my shayla 💔💔💔💔

[runaarinn]

the yearning ohmygodddddddddd. please i actually cannot phantom this is gonna be over soon

✦ — 5. jump the gun

⋆.˚✮ prev ⟡ m. list ⟡ next ✮ 3.2k words

-> hitoshi shinsou x pro-hero!reader

✮ something unexpected happens during the shipment raid, and you and hitoshi are forced to hide away. it’s hard to hide feelings in such close quarters, isn’t it? ✮ tracklist: trouble - cage the elephant, take me to church - hozier, here with me - d4vid, young folks - peter bjorn and john, wildflower - billie eilish

“you should lay off on the caffeine, you know. i can see you jittering from all the way over here.”

you scowl when hitoshi’s voice fills your ear. you glare at him from where he’s standing opposite you on a rooftop across the street, even though from that distance you know he can’t see your expression. “oh, i know mr. existential eyebags is not talking right now,” you retort, and you can hear him snort over the comms. 

you two have been perched here for hours already, and the eveningg sun is beaming down on you. needless to say, the heat has made you both a little testy. 

still, things are…different now. they’ve been different, of course, but they’re a good different now. ever since that night at the aizawa house, it feels like you have some part of you back. like you have some part of hitoshi back. there’s no malice behind your bickering, and you can sit in silence without feeling suffocated by the distance between you. 

you’ve managed to capture a couple other grunts from the syndicate, but all of them had said the same thing as the first. the shipment is supposed to come in tonight, so you and hitoshi are on stakeout until then. 

it’s not a bad location for an illegal exchange. it’s the backwaters of the city, mostly abandoned even now in the daytime. there’s a couple of buildings, then a sea of warehouses all the way out to the docks. you don’t know exactly which one will be the location, hence the waiting. 

you’re there for hours longer, the evening sun beginning to dip behind the cityscape, when there’s finally a sign of movement. 

you jump to attention, signaling hitoshi when a boat approaches the docks. you both line up in position, keeping to the shadows of the rooftops as you follow the small group of people toting large black crates.

they all disappear into a warehouse off to your left and the two of you pivot in silent pursuit. 

you meet on the roof, both of you trying to peer into the darkness below. hitoshi signals you before moving to drop down from an opening near the middle, ready to apprehend whoever is inside. 

you’re right behind him, nothing but trust as you drop down into the abyss at his side. 

you hit the floor without a sound, waiting for a moment with bated breath, unable to see anything in the black of the warehouse. you listen for something, any sign of hitoshi (who should be right in front of you), but there’s only silence. 

you flinch when blinding lights come on, only worsening your vision. 

you hear hitoshi shout your name, and then blows landing as you blink rapidly to regain vision. 

the first thing you see is hitoshi, locked in combat with figures dressed in all black. he’s on the defensive, his back to you as he tries to entangle as many of them as he can. and oh, are there many. the entire warehouse is filled with nameless, shapeless villains. enigmas dressed in identical black suits and masks, attacking from every angle. you’re quick to run to hitoshi’s aid, but even with both of you fighting at max strength, there’s too many. 

it’s all you can do to keep them off, hitoshi at your back yelling to retreat. 

“we need to get out of here and call for backup!” you urge, scanning for an opening as hitoshi jumps in front of you to give you cover. 

the two of you burst out of the warehouse, momentarily blinded by the setting sun as you flee. 

hitoshi takes to the air, whipping his capture weapon up to the buildings above and swinging. your muscles burn as you run to catch up, but he’s getting farther and farther ahead. 

“jump!” he shouts, arm outstretched to you with panic in his eyes. you’re falling too far behind. you won’t make it. 

“i can’t!” you yell back, whipping your head back to see the hordes of lackeys gaining on you. 

you won’t reach him in time, but maybe you could help him get away…

your quirk is combat-efficient — good for attack and defense. you could take a stand, hold off the syndicate until hitoshi gets away and calls for backup. 

he sees the flicker of trouble in your eyes, you can tell by the way his expression sharpens and his pupils dilate. his mouth is forming the shape of a shouted “no!” but you’re already scaling the side of a building. you stare down for a second at the mob below, steeling yourself, adrenaline pumping through your veins as you launch off the ledge. 

there’s a moment as you jump, hair whipping in the wind and thinking of hitoshi, where time freezes in midair. you feel strong and capable, like nothing could stop you. this crowd of villains beneath you is nothing. and that maybe, just maybe this minuscule act is a step towards repaying hitoshi for everything he’s done for you, to repent for all the wrong you’ve done him (even though he’s insisted he never held it against you). 

it’s a fleeting moment of infinite power as you arc through the air, time frozen for one brief second before something seizes you around the middle and suddenly you’re flying backwards. 

you scream, hands darting to whatever’s caught you around the waist to disentangle yourself. your fingers close around familiar fabric that you barely have time to register and then your back collides with something warm and solid. hitoshi’s arm is wrapped tight around your waist and you’re sailing backwards as he swings away on his capture scarf. 

it’s a scene right out of the spider-man comics you two would read in high school, hitoshi swinging away in midair with you in his arms, both of you battle-rugged and windswept. 

you cling tight to him as you sail away, eyes watering from more than just the biting wind. you ball your fingers in the fabric of his suit, your silent thank-you for the save. 

“i’m not gonna lose you for something as stupid as that…!” he says, though you can barely hear it over the wind. even with your stomach tied up in knots you don’t say anything back, just grip him that little bit tighter. 

edgeshot had given you an address to go to in the event anything were to go wrong on this mission. he made you memorize it, assured you no one besides you and him would know about it. a safe house of sorts, a place to wait while backup is enacted. 

you and hitoshi make quite the sight standing in front of it now. both of you are disheveled, covered in dirt and some blood, bodies heavy with exhaustion as you trudge into the lobby of an upscale hotel. 

you slide your hero id across the counter to the meek-looking attendant, who takes it and scurries off to find their boss in the back. you and hitoshi wait in silence for a long moment before someone else comes out to show you to your room. 

none of you speak until the attendant stops on one of the top floors, standing in front of a door at the end of the deserted hall. you wait for them to indicate a second room, but they turn to leave as soon as they hand you a key. 

you and hitoshi exchange an odd glance. maybe the rooms are adjoining…?

you open the door, ready to collapse on the bed and forget the entire day altogether. the room itself is nice, spacious enough and spotlessly clean, with a large glass door that opens out to a balcony. 

and one big, comfortable bed. 

“you’re kidding,” you deadpan, staring in disbelief. one bed. one room. one key. and no adjoining door. 

you can feel the rage creeping up your neck like insects on a hot summer day. your entire body hurts from the day’s actions, you haven’t slept in almost twenty-four hours, and you’re still a little raw and emotionally vulnerable from your close-call and save earlier. and now you won’t get even a moment to yourself. 

“of all the fuckin’ ways to cut a budget!” you snap, throwing your shoes down carelessly and resisting the urge to put your fist (or head) through the wall. 

it’s not that you’re opposed to sharing the room with hitoshi. it’s not the first time, not by a longshot. but after the whiplash today has been, you’re not sure you can sort out or confront your feelings just yet. 

hitoshi just heaves a sigh, still standing unmoved by the door. “whatever. i’ll take the floor then, i could really care less.”

you don’t say anything else, shedding the adornments on your hero costume as you tromp over to the bathroom and lock yourself in. you slide down the door, head in your hands. you sit like that for a long time while the water runs, trying to collect yourself. 

you’re not sure how long you spend in the shower (though you’re certain it’s a very long time), and the hot water mellows you out. you take your sweet time getting out, changing into lounge clothes you’ve found in one of the drawers. you stare at yourself in the mirror for a long time, trying to decipher if you look any different. sure feels like it, anyway. 

steam billows out of the bathroom when you open the door and hitoshi looks up, staring at you with a look that’s hard to read. he doesn’t say anything, the flash of a ghost smile, and then he’s disappearing into the bathroom for an equally long shower. 

you lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling for a while and trying to make sense of the day. 

guilt begins to creep up when you think too hard about it. the mean voices in your head you thought you were rid of since climbing the charts are back. 

why didn’t you see it was a trap?

why couldn’t you get out of there faster? why couldn’t you even do your part and protect your partner? why was he the one who had to save you? 

why, why, why flying around your mind until you can’t take it anymore. you bury your face in the pillow and yell until you can’t hear them anymore, and then you put on the tv so you don’t have to sit in silence any longer. 

“no word from edgeshot?” you look up when hitoshi exits the bathroom. his purple hair is damp, hanging in his face and dripping. you try very hard not to stare at his exposed back muscles when he shuffles over to the drawers in search of clothes, gripping the towel around his waist for dear life. 

“no,” you reply, busying yourself with checking your phone. “still nothing.”

he hums, disappearing into the bathroom once more. 

you get up to poke around the rest of the room, but nothing seems out of place. it’s a regular hotel room, classy and spotless. 

hitoshi comes out again, dressed this time, and leans on the wall beside you where you’re rifling through the minifridge under the desk. 

“so what’s on the agenda for the night?”

“oh, i’ve got an idea,” you reply with a wicked grin, leaning back on your hands. “you know what they didn’t cut from the budget?”

hitoshi eyes the large bottle you’re holding up with skeptical eyes. “they’ll just take it out of our wage.”

you scoff, already popping the lid off. “who cares? we deserve a treat after this godawful day.”

hitoshi studies you for one second longer before he shrugs. “can’t argue with that, i guess.”

you grab two flimsy paper cups from the coffee station atop the fridge, sliding open the door to the balcony. the night air on your flushed face is so heavenly you almost laugh. 

the two of you take a seat on the balcony floor, the concrete cool on your skin even through your clothes. you stick your legs through the bars of the railing, letting your feet dangle over the city below. 

you make idle small talk for a while, more enjoying the silence than anything else. it’s nice, not having too much to say for once.

the drink is godsent, too. you can’t read the foreign label, but you can tell it’s fancy and it tastes expensive. once hitoshi’s cup tears, you both give up the feeble things and just share the bottle. 

“i didn’t get a chance to say earlier, but…thank you,” you say quietly after a minute, taking another sip. “for the save, i mean.”

hitoshi snorts, more to himself than to you. his fingers are warm against yours when he takes the bottle from you to drink. “like i was gonna let you get into all that trouble by yourself.”

“i could’ve handled it,” you insist, snatching the drink back from him. 

“that’s not the point.”

“and what was the point then?” you ask, bumping his shoulder with your own.

he heaves a dramatic sigh. “the point is that i wasn’t going to let you ‘sacrifice’ yourself for me when we were both going to get out fine. and i know you, so i knew you were going to do something stupid and end up hurt and i just didn’t want to see all that, not when there was something i could have done.”

you stare at him, though his gaze remains down at the bottle in his lap. your eyes wander his side profile, the crease of his eyebrow, the way his damp hair has dried fluffy and falling in his face, the flutter of his long lavender eyelashes (why do boys always have such long lashes?). 

you’re not sure what gives you the courage (probably the alcohol), but you let your head fall on his shoulder. 

he startles under you at first, but he doesn’t make any moves to get you off him. 

“sorry i made you worry,” you murmur. you feel the reverb of his chuckle. 

“can’t be helped, i guess. for what it’s worth, you were pretty great out there.”

you tilt your head up to grin at him. “even though the mission got fucked?”

he laughs this time, deep and full. “yeah, even then.”

you snake your hands around his arm, seeking his warmth as the breeze runs colder. he either doesn’t notice or doesn’t mind. 

“hey, ’toshi?”

“mm.”

“can i—”

“can you ask me something? you know you can just ask, right?”

you press your cheek further into his shoulder, bemused and almost embarrassed (but not quite). “whatever. i was going to say that it sounds weird but…”

��but what?” he hums, and you feel the weight of his head resting atop yours. 

“but i’m kind of…glad everything got all screwed up there at the end.”

“what do you mean?”

“i don’t know, i guess with the bust being moved up, i thought this was all going to end too fast,” you admit. hitoshi is silent, waiting for you to continue. “and i…it just felt like our time was running out too quick and we were just starting to get each other back and i…”

you turn your head again to be able to look up at him. “i missed you, ‘toshi. and i don’t want to let you go again.”

you’re close. you’re so close all over again, and now you’re remembering sitting on his bed with nothing but a hair’s width between your lips. it feels like you dreamt it, even though it was just a few days ago. neither of you had brought it up after that, and it had you wondering if that was ever even his intention. if it was, why didn’t he kiss you on the porch when you were both alone again? was he afraid? did he sense that you were afraid? 

why are you afraid? 

you look up into hitoshi’s deep purple eyes, which are low and centered entirely on you. but there’s no fear in them, just…want. a soft kind of fondness that’s hard to describe, a vision that you lose when your eyes flutter shut as you lean in to meet him halfway. 

it’s not like you’ve never kissed hitoshi before, but this time feels different somehow. more real, you guess. 

contrary to (incredibly) popular belief, you and hitoshi had never actually dated. 

you have been on a date, though. technically. in third year, when your class was formally invited as guests to the hero gala. 

it was like prom on steroids. everyone was partnering up by then, so you and hitoshi just…decided to go together. neither one of you specifically asked the other, nor did either of you specify if it was a date. it was just understood. so you picked out semi-matching outfits, he brought you one singular flower (your favorite), and you hung off each other’s arms all night. 

the first time you ever kissed was on the roof that night. the two of you had snuck some champagne, but that’s not the only reason. in all honesty, it was probably a long time coming. you felt then like you do now — like some weird string of coincidence led to the two of you to each other, and a deep desire in your gut to never let go.  

that night it felt like a dream, standing in the corner of the rooftop railing, wedged tight against each other, all fluttering lashes and glittery clothes and body heat. 

you’re awake tonight, every inch of your body alight with some kind of warmth that’s more than physical. you can taste the drink on his lips, smell the lavender of his shampoo. his bangs brush against your forehead and your hand comes up to brush against the side of his face.

it feels like both an eternity and barely a second, and when you pull away your eyes are still closed. 

when they open, he’s staring again. you’ve grown used to it, but you still feel your heart jump a little even after so long.

“what?” you ask, unable to wipe the dopey grin off your face. 

“nothing,” he replies, quirking a small smile in return as he turns his gaze back out to the city and takes another drink. 

you stay out there a long time after that, listening to the city noises beneath and gazing up at the stars barely visible in the deep night sky. you’re beginning to doze off on hitoshi’s shoulder when he finally says you should get back inside. 

you give a little noise of protest, not wanting the warmth of his arm around you to leave, but he puts them both around you to get you to your feet. 

you settle into bed in a sleepy daze, but prop yourself up on your elbows to find shinsou setting blankets down on the ground beside you. 

your bottom lip pushes out and you make a face when he lifts his eyebrow at the way you’re staring. 

“what?”

“i’m not going to make you sleep on the floor,” you huff out. “this is ridiculous, we’re both adults. just…just come up here before you make me feel even more stupid. we can file a complaint in the morning.”

he gives you another look, but shakes his head and lifts the covers to climb in beside you. 

his back is sturdy and warm against yours, reminiscent of times long past. 

it’s habit when you murmur a soft, “goodnight.”

it’s quiet, but you think you hear him say it back before you drift off. 

dividers by @/saradika-graphics, header by kitty with pics from pinterest!

taglist: @deadhands69 @frvv @cccandynecklaces @tokeposts @lover-no-lover61 @getvaccinated @accidentpronedork @crushmeeren @p4rkcha3w0n @cyberesc @bloomness @eloshifts @bythevay @cc1306 @nobodybutnnoorr (ask/comment if you’d like to be added!)

double series update whaattttt i am on a roll todayyy (controlling the only thing i know how to!!). estimating maybe two or three more chapters so we r getting down to the end of the line omggg 🫢🫣 hope you enjoyed this one!! looking forward to making u cry in the next one teehee 🤭

[runaarinn]

✦ — 4. merry christmas, please don't call...

⋆.˚✮ prev ⟡ m. list ⟡ next ✮ 1.8k words

-> hitoshi shinsou x pro-hero!reader

✮ dinner at hitoshi's brings up old memories and you struggle against a flood of nostalgia. it seems that life has kept moving without you... ✮ tracklist: merry christmas, please don’t call - bleachers, anthems for a 17 year old girl - broken social scene, we hug now - sydney rose, vienna - billy joel

the last time you were at the aizawa house was for christmas dinner, maybe five years ago. you remember the feeling more than the specifics. soft candlelight, warm sweaters, colorful stockings. hearty chitchat, a crackling fire, and delicious food. hardly anything you’ve eaten since compares to yamada-sensei’s holiday cooking. 

there’s no christmas decorations up this time though, you notice as you’re standing at the doorstep trying to work up the courage to go inside. there is a heart garland (that looks like era’s handiwork), probably leftover from valentine’s day. it’s march already, but hizashi was never one to wrap anything up quickly.

“it’s just a friends dinner. friends have dinner. you’ve been here a million times,” you mumble to yourself, bouncing on the balls of your feet. you huff with determination, squaring your shoulders as you reach to knock on the door. 

you startle when it swings open before you get the chance. aizawa-sensei is standing there with his usual unbothered expression, though you can see the little spark in his eyes that denotes he’s pleased with your company. (you’ve seen the look about a million times on hitoshi.)

“good you could make it,” he says, stepping aside to let you in. “eri’s been talking about this all week.”

you hum your assent, eyeing the photos on the walls as you follow him through the hall. eri's first christmas, a candid from mic’s studio, the four of them on a cruise a couple years back (you remember hitoshi complaining about the sunburns). a graduation photo — you and hitoshi squeezed between aizawa and hizashi, eri sitting on hitoshi’s shoulders, you flashing a peace-sign and hitoshi sporting a small smile. you’re in quite a few others, but that’s the one that really catches your eye. 

during your u.a. days and the years that followed, you probably spent more time at their house than your own. aizawa and hizashi were like your second parents. 

guilt bubbles in your stomach at the thought of how long it’s been. you couldn’t really bring yourself to face them outside of the rare professional run-in — and even, then your poor relationship with hitoshi was always looming above you like taboo. 

“hey kiddo!” comes a voice when you enter the kitchen.

hizashi is just as loud as you remember, and even though you’re about twenty-five now, hearing him call you so fondly makes it feel like no time has passed. you can’t help the smile that overtakes you. 

“something smells good,” you note, coming to sit down at the table. you claim the seat next to eri, though it leaves you directly across from hitoshi — who has only offered a small smile as a greeting. 

“well, it may have been a while but i could never forget how to make your favorite,” hizashi replies with a grin, taking the lid off a dish to reveal a mouth-watering ensemble. 

you help eri set up the table as she asks you about your hero work. “they’ve kept most of your operation out of the news, but i’ve seen some action shots in the newspaper!” 

“yeah? they any good?”

she nods emphatically and you can’t help your smile. she points to something behind you and you turn to the refrigerator, where you see several newspaper clippings hung up like parents keep children’s drawings. there’s photos of your former classmates, but right in the center you recognize yourself standing on a rooftop next to hitoshi. it’s recent, probably taken in the last couple weeks. you look back at hizashi and aizawa, but neither of them say anything. they hold your gaze with proud eyes and tiny smiles. you glance over at hitoshi, but he seems especially interested in poking at the food with his fork. you don’t miss the tinge of red in his cheeks. 

you swallow the lump in your throat, taking your seat back and serving yourself a heaping plate as the conversation resumes like normal. 

the spotlight turns to eri when hizashi mentions the upcoming u.a. year. 

she turns about the same shade as a tomato as he fawns over her. 

“she’s going in on recommendation,” hitoshi tells you, to which you grin proudly. 

“i still have to pass the entrance exams,” she insists, still rosy-cheeked and visibly embarrassed. 

“ah, you’re a total shoe-in!” you reply enthusiastically. “you practically grew up in those halls, and you’re absolutely hero material. you’ve got nothing to worry about, peanut.”

eri beams at you in return and that overwhelming bittersweet of nostalgia overtakes you again. 

it doesn’t seem like so long ago that you and hitoshi would walk her home from school, the three of you hand in hand. you’d sleepover on the weekends that aizawa and hizashi had missions and help hitoshi babysit her. when you got older, the two of you would take her everywhere. it was like playing house, and eri was your baby. obviously aizawa and yamada-sensei did all the real parenting, but you can’t help feeling like you and hitoshi raised her up along with them. 

you excuse yourself to the bathroom while everyone’s starting to clean up, willing the race of your heart to calm. 

you find yourself stopping on the stairs, peering in where the door at the top of the steps is ajar. 

how many times have you raced hitoshi up these stairs (many an injury exchanged), launching up to bellyflop on his bed? how many nights did you spend laying on his floor playing video games or reading comic books or sneaking a smoke out the window? 

the door creaks when you push it open a little more. it smells like lavender laundry detergent and coffee grounds. it smells like hitoshi…

it almost feels like an invasion of privacy, even though you’ve been up here about a thousand times. it’s hitoshi’s room, but the hitoshi it belonged to isn’t yours. 

we’re both different people now. that’s what he’d told you that day of the interview. and it’s the truth — these four years have changed you. sometimes you look over at him and it’s like you don’t even recognize him, and at the same time like nothing has changed. 

“lost?”

you nearly jump out of you skin when hitoshi speaks from behind you. “what the fuck is wrong with you?!”

he gives the slightest hint of a smirk and you resist the urge to shove him. he slips past you into the room, gazing around for a minute before looking back at you. 

“what?”

you’re aware that you probably look ridiculous, standing there, stupefied,  like you’re paralyzed in an electric current. this feels like a weird dream. 

“just…total whiplash, i guess,” you reply after a minute, shaking your head. hitoshi goes to sit on his bed and when he leaves a space for you, you amble over. you take a seat carefully, like the bed is glass beneath you. it’s not the bed you’re afraid of breaking, though. “i mean, before a few weeks ago, i hadn’t seen you in…what, almost four years? it’s just…unreal, i guess.”

“four years isn’t nothing,” he agrees, turning his head to observe the posters and photos plastered up above his bed. you’re in most of them. 

hitoshi’s a loner by nature. he came to class 1-a saying he wasn’t going to make friends. you’ve never been like that. you always had crowds of people around you, craved the action and drama and adventure of it. and then you met him. 

you still had your other friends, of course. but they were hard-pressed to find a time you and hitoshi weren’t glued to each other’s sides. when you were with him, it was like the world faded away. 

he tilts his head, observing you with deep purple eyes. 

“what happened to us?”

the question leaves your lips before you can stop it. it’s rhetorical, really. more the nostalgia talking than anything else. 

you’re afraid to bring it up every time, like prodding at an old wound and hoping it won’t reopen — but it still weighs on you when you think about it too hard. 

hitoshi just shrugs. “we both made choices. we both wanted different things, and we just ended up on different paths. people don’t stay together forever.”

it’s exactly the kind of answer you were expecting from him, but that doesn’t make it sting any less. 

“do you think it’s fate we got assigned to this mission, then?”

“i don’t believe in fate.”

you knew that, but you thought…maybe you thought that after all this time he might’ve changed his mind. that you two meeting again would change his mind. 

“yeah, i guess you’re right.”

“you guess a lot,” hitoshi hums lowly, something vaguely like a smile flickering on his face.

you shoot him a wry look from under your lashes. “well, you make me nervous.”

“and why’s that?”

“i don’t know, i guess i used to always know what you were thinking,” you admit. “now i’m lucky if i understand what you tell me.”

his eyes narrow the tiniest fraction. his heavy-lidded eyes are boring into yours. “is that what you want?”

“what?”

“to know me,” he replies softly. “to know what i’m thinking.”

he’s close. you two were already sitting side by side, but now you’re practically nose-to-nose. “what are you thinking?”

“you want me to tell you?”

you breathe out a little ‘yes.’

“i’m thinking that they’re probably wondering where we’ve got up to,” hitoshi answers, nodding a little towards the stairs. “and…”

“and…?”

“and that i don’t know if i want to go back downstairs just yet,” he finishes, eyes dropping to your lips, mere inches from his, before coming back up to your eyes.

you’re leaning in before you can think about it, like it’s second nature, when the door creaks open. you both jump apart, whipping around to find eri poking her head through the doorway. 

“i was looking for you! dessert’s ready.” she flounces off with that, and you and hitoshi stare at each other with flushed cheeks and wide eyes. 

he gets up without saying anything, but he offers you a hand to help you up. his touch doesn’t linger, though your hand retains the warmth of his grip even after he’s let go.

you make your way down for dessert, which you eat over small talk before you say goodnight. it’s a long moment before eri lets you go when she hugs you goodbye. 

hitoshi walks you out, and you both stand on the front steps in awkward silence for a long moment. 

“thanks for coming,” he manages after a minute. “it meant a lot to eri.”

“yeah,” you say with a small smile. “it was good to see her. been too long.”

“yeah, well…i’ll see you tomorrow. get home safe, yeah?”

“okay. see you tomorrow.”

you linger for one second longer, hitoshi holding your gaze soft, before you turn and head off while he ducks back inside. and even though you’re heading back to your own place, somehow it feels like you’re leaving home behind you.

dividers by @/saradika-graphics, header by kitty with pics from pinterest!

taglist: @deadhands69 @frvv @cccandynecklaces @tokeposts @lover-no-lover61 @getvaccinated @accidentpronedork @crushmeeren @p4rkcha3w0n @cyberesc @bloomness @eloshifts @bythevay @cc1306 @nobodybutnnoorr (ask/comment if you’d like to be added!)

yes i did use this already as a fic title but i don’t careeee this song is so good and if you look up the lyrics its so fitting pleeease. anyways, hope the slowburn is torturing you as much as it is me :) the amount of writing i get done on a train is wild (i have assignments due 😬) next couple chapters are pretty well mapped out so hoping for smooth updates! enjoy <33