𝗦𝗣𝗘𝗔𝗞!

  𝐘𝐎𝐔  𝐁𝐄𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄  𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝑺𝑰𝑳𝑬𝑵𝑪𝑬

[brainwashe]

BECAUSE  I  COULD  NOT  STOP  FOR  DEATH      .      .      .

AN  INDEPENDENT  &  SELECTIVE  RENDITION  OF  SHINSO  HITOSHI  AS  SEEN  IN  BOKU  NO  HERO  ACADEMIA      [      INFLUENCES  ARE  UNLOVINGLY  STOLEN  FROM  BOTH  THE  MANGA  &  THE  ANIME,   WITH  THE  LATTER  PRIMARILY  COLOURING  MY  PORTRAYAL      ].

.      .     .      HE  KINDLY  STOPPED  FOR  ME!

the  roleplayer:      gray,   twenty  -  two,   they/them. rules  &  other  important  details:   found  here. other  blogs      /      platforms:   currently  none,   though  i  am  considering  a  shigaraki  blog,  and  would  love  to  be  convinced!

[brainwashe]

deatheir​:

he took that far more literally than intended,   and his response brings a snorted chuckle to the electricity user as he shimmies his was out from under the bed,   charger in hand   —   and mouth!   they chew absentmindedly on the soft,   braided cord,   clinking the thin metal against the back of their teeth.   THEY’LL WORRY ABOUT CHARGING THE GAME ANOTHER TIME.   [ shinso seemed about bored with it,   anyway,   and kaminari admittedly doesn’t have the attention span to be interested in it much longer,   anyway. ]      ❝   i think it was more about being afraid of the closet,   than of the   —   of the squid.   i still can’t sleep if the closet door is open,   y’know.   ❞      kaminari is a busy body as they flutter around the room,   fishing a bag out of the depths of their laundry hamper,   throwing objects left and right into it   —   there didn’t seem to be any rhyme or rhythm to the items,   but it makes sense in the blonde’s brain.

the prospects of the coffee shop does sound alluring,   but:      ❝   do they have other stuff than coffee?   ‘cause,   i’m not really supposed to have caffeine.   ❞      LIKE THAT EVER STOPS KAMINARI.   [ shinso doesn’t need to know he’d already had several energy drinks that day,   not to mention the sugary snacks.   he’d definitely be ordering an iced drink that was more foam than coffee. ]      ❝   either way,   though,   that sounds nice.   as long as they have food.   oh   —   can we stop by the mall on the way back?   i have to return some stuff!   ❞

shinso tenderly held that slice of information in his hand then tucked it away neatly into a file in his brain named kaminari facts...      he had no idea when the little cabinet had started to be filled.     slowly and surely,   however,     he had compiled quite a list.    he supposed it wasn’t uncommon.    he has a list for izuku,  too,  though that one was a bit shorter.     he enjoyed his squirreled pieces of information   --   facts he could almost taste,   a mental reminder that he knew people and they were allowed to know him too   [   he had never been the most open of people...     he struggled when it came to any sort of intimacy   --   but he wanted the other to know him   ].       if kaminari knew him,    he thinks it would feel less like a strangulation and more like a handshake.    a hug.    attention that was made to free,   rather than to constrict.        ‘      that isn’t strange.    i can’t sleep if there’s a light on.    everyone has their thing.        ’

this was already shaping up to be quite the day out,   but shinso found that he didn’t dread it...     and some coffee would make him feel better.    he’d had a cup full this morning,   but he could always use a little more to help lighten his mood.    even when he had a full eight hours of sleep,    a rarity around here,    he still woke up feeling tired.    as if all his limbs were too heavy for his body.        ‘       we don’t have to get coffee.    we can get some teas   --   what do you need to return?        ’

[brainwashe]

deatheir​:

❝   well,   i worry about lots of stuff.   ❞      the words come lisped out from around the boy’s bottom lip,   sat perched neatly between the pears of his teeth,   leaving pebble light indentations in the plush skin.   [ what does shinso worry about?   does it darken his own worries?   blur them,   pale them?   did they worry about the same things?   worry piles upon worry piles upon worry until the gaps are filled and rigged. ]   WORRY OR NOT,   THERE WAS A JOB TO DO:   fingers had yet to clasp around the threaded chord of the charger,   and it was starting to drive kaminari to frustration.   he finishes his thought like he hadn’t taken a multi-second pause,   like he hadnt opened and ending to the previous comment.      ❝   like,   when i was like,   i used t’ worry that a squid was gonna come outta my closet and take my toes.   or,   last night i was worried,   because i saw there may be bad lightning storms on the weather channel.   and,   now i’m kinda worried,   ‘cause i dunno where else my charger would be if not   —    ❞

electric boy surges forward with quick,   harsh movements:   HE JABS THE TOP OF HIS SKULL INTO THE BOTTOM OF HIS BED FRAME,   and he’s sure there’s gonna be a nice bruise there in a couple hours,   but triumph eats away any of that.   [ kaminari is shimmying back out from under the bed just as quickly as he’d nearly disappeared from underneath it. ]   settled between his lips is the port of the charger,   yellow cable and all.   he’s grinning like an idiot,   and kaminari’s stomach growls audibly at the prospects of a late lunch.      ❝   i got it!   oh,   yeah   —   yeah,   food sounds great.   i’m like   …   super hungry,   anyway!   okay,   yeah,   let’s go.    ❞

shinso doesn’t know why,   but his heart hurts a little to know denki is so overcome with worry...     he struggles to feel for other people sometimes.     if shinso was being entirely honest,    he struggles to feel for himself sometimes   --   his own emotions come to him like dark glimpses into a different story   [   barely felt,   barely heard,   little whispers that passed into the night:    he understands the emotions that overwhelm him,    but the quieter ones need to be teased out like scared animals huddling for safety   ].     but he knows that his heart hurts for denki here.    he knows that he wants to assure the other that everything will be okay,   even if he doesn’t know if that’s the truth.    he keeps his mouth shut,  though.    besides,  shinso worried about lots of silly stuff.   getting up late and wasting his chance to be a hero and never being truly seen.      ‘      you were  worried that a squid was going to take your toes?    why would you worry about that?    squids don’t even like toes.       ’       there’s far bigger issues with the squid - toe fear,  of course,   but shinso can’t get over the toe part of it.      ‘     i used to be scared of mirrors.    i suppose that isn’t a worry,   though.       ’

shinso winces when kaminari hurts his head...      he seems to take the pain well,  though,   and there’s at least no tears when his head appears again.    maybe he worries too much.   he shouldn’t be giving kaminari any advice on worry when he can’t even dampen his own   --   it’s the blind leading the blind.        ‘     we need to stop by my room so i can get my wallet...    there’s a nice little coffee shop close by.   a little hidden,   too,    so barely anyone goes.    we could go there.      ’

[brainwashe]

shinso always smells like clean water. that’s all.

[brainwashe]

@unhallo​

𝐚 𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭 𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐤𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐢'𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐬,   one far more gentle than the ones he usually dons.   kaminari smiles like a thunderstorm on a midsummer’s day,   loud and energetic and electric.   KAMINARI SMILES LIKE A SLIGHT BREEZE RUSTLING THROUGH THE TREE TOPS ON A FOGGY SPRING MORNING.   [ there are things they all don’t talk about,   secret fears and worries and terrors and concerns   —   kaminari wonders where shinso keeps his,   a lock box buried somewhere deep inside his ribcage?   a book left sitting open on a windowsill?   you’ve got so much to worry about   —   where do you even begin? ]      ❝   awwwww,   you get worried?   ❞      it’s meant to be a light hearted tease,   a simper at the edges of his smile,   but kaminari defaults to staring down at his lap and fiddling with the hem of his shirt.      ❝   it’s okay.   i get worried too.   ❞

they leave the conversation there,   for now   —   it’s one meant for quiet whispers in the hallway,   not in the comfort and privacy of a dorm.   kaminari strokes their fingers over the controls quickly,   opens his mouth to further gloat about his naturality behind the games he plays   —   THE CONSOLE HAS OTHER IDEAS.   [ a moment’s breath has the screen dissolving to black,   a single low battery warning all they get before it goes unresponsive and quiet. ]   kaminari throws their hands up rather dramatically,   his controller landing on the bed with a couple bounces.      ❝   oh,   just great!   ❞      kaminari pouts while shifting to his hands and knees,   beginning his decent down under his dorm room bed.   it’s a tight squeeze.   they’ve done it before.      ❝   let me see if i can find the charger,   okay?   oh,   you don’t see it anywhere,   do you?   ❞

denki’s smile is rendered in miniature...     it seems softer than the usual blaze that passes ruthlessly against his lips   [   usually,  his smile takes up most of his face,  as if the happiness was trying to escape:     he wonders where denki holds it all   ].    shinso’s feelings appear like small flickers,   nestled somewhere between his ribs,   spirals of salt and softness that he couldn’t stop choking on.   he wonders if he could collect all of kaminari’s kindness in his hands   --   or if there’s too much of it to ever hold.   shinso’s kindness could be shoved neatly into a single flask.       ‘      everyone gets worried.       ’      humanity as frail and thin as any vein:     he is thankful that he knows the parts of him that are commonplace   [   he tries not to deny himself the miseries and kindnesses of humanity,  even if he feels like a fraud with it all sometimes   ].      ‘      what do you worry about?     ’

in a blink,   the screen is black and kaminari has dived beneath his dorm room bed...      shinso turns his head to watch him   [   he’s strangely adept at this   ].      he places his controller neatly at the edge of the table,   his legs stretching out in front of him   --   at least he doesn’t have to endure any more humiliating failures for the time being.    he spares a small glance around the room,   looking for the charger.        ‘      maybe we should go for food,    once you’ve found the charger,       ’       shinso suggested,  lightly.   he was never one to prolong his time in someone else’s company,   but...     it was different with denki.    something about his company felt calmer,   more gentle than the fist of social interaction that seemed to burrow into his chest.        ‘      there’s a food truck not too far from here.       ’

[brainwashe]

unhallo​:

❝   shinso.   ❞      it’s stated rather flatly,   harsh over the tips of her fangs,   an attention grabber more than anything.   it’s quickly lilted into dripping honey,   a birds song through the open window in the morning.   BUT IT’S DARK,   CAUSTIC AND FERAL.   [ toga tilts her head at the boy before her,   smile stretching impossibly wide   —   too wide. ]      her teeth are on full display,   lips stretched unnaturally far.      ❝   that’s you,   isn’t it?   i can hear them calling for you,   outside.   shiiiiiiiinsooooooooo.   oh!   they sound close,   too.   isn’t this fun?   i’m having fun.   ❞      true to her word,   toga’s legs kick back and forth from where they dangle over the edge of the large bolder she’s perched herself atop of.   [ she chews on the inside of her cheek,   swallows down the taste of metal and sticky sweet blood. ]   the stretch of silence that follows is far too long for her taste,   far too awkward,   and toga heaves a dramatic huff of air out through her mouth as she slumps into the rock.      ❝   i’m bored.   let’s play a game!   ❞

the sound of his name on her lips makes him wince...    there is a familiarity there   [   a failure of a hero who cannot even recognise when his friend had been twisted into someone else:     shinso had been so worried about kaminari the past few weeks   --   the worry had been necessary,   but his reasoning was a callous blade   ].     he wants to rip his name from her mouth so she can never say it again.       ‘      that just means there will be back up here soon.      ’       he hadn’t meant to respond to her.    he doubted antagonizing her would be very beneficial,  either,   but he couldn’t stop the way his tongue curled around bitterness like it was a childhood treat.     it was a petty betrayal,   but one he felt so deeply that it sliced open his heart.     he wonders when she took kaminari’s place.    how many conversations had he took part in that turned out to be little more than information - gathering missions?    how could he have not noticed?   guilt tastes thick on his tongue.       ‘      i’m not playing a game with you.   do you even realise how horrific what you’ve done is?       ’

[brainwashe]

unhallo​:

𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐚'𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐱𝐚𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐩𝐨𝐮𝐭,   the girl’s bottom lip jutted out well past the sharpened points of the elongated canine teeth that press into the plush of her skin.   [ this is a tough situation,   admittedly,   for the both of them:   his inexperience with field work presents its own disadvantage as much as toga’s inability to name the boy before her. ]   a nameless face versus a faceless name dwindles down into a battle of wits and stamina.   who will falter first?   the light from her phone flashlight falls against the spreading darkness like an unspoken promise to swallow them both whole.   the boy’s retorts bring a feline like curiosity to her face,   pupils dilating and expanding while she stares owlishly with a slightly tilted chin.      ❝   fine.   ❞      impishly obedient,   the suspicion in the air grows heavy as toga hoists herself up onto a fallen rock,   swinging her feet back and forth.   [ she regards him quietly for a few moments,   analytical mixed with something more light hearted,   something purely observational. ]   the requested silence is short lasted as the girl offers a sharp toothed smile filtered through a lilting giggle.      ❝   soooooooo   [ … ]   which one are you,   again?   ❞

he expects her to strike...      he has not thought much about his death   [   there were more important things for heroes to worry about:     saving the lives of others would always be worth more than his own skin   ].       he supposes there is nothing heroic about this,  though   --   dying in a cave,   barely able to see in front of him,     silence and darkness mixing together.     his eyes fall shut:   it is unwise to take his gaze from her,  he knows that.   but she is little more than a dark shape in a darker world,   passing too easily for a shivering rock or a speck of floating dust.      his headache pulses beneath his closed eyes  --   he has never thought much about his death,   but he knows he won’t let it be here.      if nothing else,   aizawa - sensei should be looking for him.       someone would be looking for him.           ‘        are you asking for my name?        ’          the gulf opens up to him...       she is nothing like kaminari   [   which makes him feel even more blind   --   bile licks at his throat and he swallows it down,      guilt a heavy taste upon his tongue   ].         ‘        feels too much like a deal with the devil to take you.           ’

[brainwashe]

@envolt   :        (from chargebolte) in hindsight, kaminari wished they’d stopped to grab a basket. fitted in his arms is a precarious arrangement of various gifts, all teetering off each other, threatening to spill over onto the floor. it doesn’t slow him down as he all but bounds up the steps—the elevator was being too slow, and he’s far too excited to wait—to halt himself in front of shinso’s dorm. it takes some wiggling, some adjusting, before kami manages to clumsily knock his knuckles three times against the surface. he’s sure he looks silly standing there, if the shock on the other boy’s face is anything: arms stuffed full of dyed purple roses, far too many boxes of chocolate, and a stuffed cat that’s nearly the same size as the electric user himself. his cheeks are pink as he stands on his tiptoes to peek over the stuffed animal with a soft whisper of “hi,” pushing anxiety and nerves down to utter a squeaky: “will you—do you want to be my valentine?”

shinso hadn’t even noticed it was valentine’s day...    which is why his brow knits together at the other’s word,   assuming some sort of elaborate prank   [   but while kaminari could perhaps be thoughtless,   he was never intentionally cruel   --   and his arms were stuffed full of so many gifts that it would be an outrageous length to go for a cheap laugh   ].        ‘       woah,       ’         shinso said,  with something like a grin in his voice.        ‘       denki,   this must have cost you a fortune.       ’       he wiggles the chocolate and roses free,   placing them on his desk:     he gestures kaminari in with his free hand.    where was he even going to put a huge stuffed cat?         ‘       isn’t this something you usually do for romantic partners?     ah,   but i heard ochako gave cards to everyone in your class.        i guess you can do it with friends.        ’        he keeps glancing around,   looking for a place to store the cat.         ‘       you should have told me.    i haven’t gotten you anything.       ’

[brainwashe]

@madestars   :        i get wanting to be someone new. ( izuku )

they lay out on the roof,    letting sleepy stars drift past them...      shinso feels as insubstantial as water,   with the silence of ink   [   he does not know the names of the constellations,    he does not feel their ache:    he already burns too much inside to worry about the rest of the universe   ].     there’s snacks between them,    potato chips that shinso keeps slipping under his tongue,    slices of fruit going ignored in favour of salt and sugar.     there are very little moments where shinso relaxes   --   his body is mangled and stiff in its resting position,    poised in anticipation of some greater worry.     here,  though,  he finds a softness to his shoulders,   a rounding of his smile as he twists to look at izuku.         ‘       why?    you’re...    fine as you aware.       ’

[brainwashe]

@madestars   :        don’t tell me what to do. ( bakugo )

snack runs,   late nights spent sneaking into places they shouldn’t be,   creeping down the hallway like two pj - clad ghosts...     they tiptoe across floorboards that would creak with a little more weight   [   bakugou has never been his favourite person in the world   --   and talking to him outside of the classroom has never been an easy thing to do,  but...     if izuku wanted him to branch out into having new friends,    he supposed he could suffer an annoyance or two   ].       ‘      i’m just telling you to be quieter when you walk.       ’       words are whispered between them,   shinso’s gaze darting this way and that way as if someone was going to pop out at the slightest noise.   THEY JUST HAD TO SURVIVE UNTIL THEY REACHED THE KITCHEN...     through the winding corridors of ua...    where a bunch of pro - heroes stayed overnight to watch over them.     nice and easy stuff.        ‘       you’re making too much noise.      ’

[brainwashe]

do you have a rules page yet?

no and i never ever ever will

[brainwashe]

unhallo​:

𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠,   it’s almost trivial how mundane homework had become   —   how relieving it was over combat training,   rescue exercises,   to go about the motions of something familiar.   kaminari,   like most kids his age,   had always grown to detest homework;   but now they find a lot of their peers finding the happy places inside what was once a chore.   [ weekly homework sessions with friends,   or yaomomo’s exam review sessions:   academic nonsense had never felt like a breath of fresh air until now. ]   shinso seemed to be good at picking out kaminari’s concerns before they even had a chance to express them,   something they’ve come to appreciate more and more:   𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝,   has always been there to offer advice,   or stop the electric user from doing something silly as soon as that mischievous spark in his eye made itself known.      ❝   thanks,   man.   ❞      a pause,   as kaminari lifts their hand to tap against shinso’s forhead with an elated snort.      ❝   got anymore words of wisdom up there you feel like sharing?   ❞

kaminari is a creature of habit,   and can’t help but tease the boy before him at his request for repeat instructions:   he gives his shoulder a little bump with his own.      ❝   again?   what’s got you so distracted   —   you’ll never win mario kart if you don’t focus!   ❞      never the less,   kaminari’s fingers outstretch to gently press against the reference buttons.

kaminari brims with so much light that it sometimes feels too complicated to appreciate him...      it would be a waste of breath to compliment kaminari   [   like talking about how bright and pretty the sun might be:     established facts of the universe did not require comment...     everyone just understood that kaminari was a fountain of bright energy   ].       OR MAYBE SHINSO WAS BEING A LITTLE BIASED.      but it was hard to believe that anyone could look at kaminari and not see what he saw   --   unending potential and summery kindness cutting open soft skin and bruised hands.     kids were mean and often unappreciative of the things around them...     there were few teenagers able to compliment others,    and the true gem of an bleeding heart was never appreciated by its owner.     but shinso hoped his quiet presence was enough to speak for what he couldn’t say.        ‘       none that you’d listen to.     at least you weren’t reckless like izuku...     which means i don’t have to sit around worrying.        ’        shinso doesn’t move an inch as the fist taps against his forehead.

‘       you can’t focus until you’ve learned the controls.    and you should know by now that true learning takes many attempts.       ’        there’s a small smile on his lips,  however,  as the teasing springs free from the other’s mouth.    he watches kaminari’s deft fingers sweep across the buttons,     quick and easy.    he wants to touch those hands.          ‘        you must’ve been playing these games for a long time.   you’re a natural at it.       ‘

[brainwashe]

yaoyrozu​:

     momo’s   eyes   are   a   pool ,    dark     &     full     -     but   dangerous ,    despite   their   fear .     hands   press   against   self ,    attempts   to   regain   composure   put   into   action .     she   feels   as   though   she   has   shrunk ,    now   scarce ,     &     only   seen   by   a   person   of   whom   knows   exactly   what   to   say     ;     words   shock   them   back   into   a   reality   outside   of   their   mind .     it   sinks   in ,    the   words .     she   knows   that   they   will   die   some   day     -     all   of   them .     a   part   of   them   wanted   to   stay   young     &     pure     &     free ,    untainted   by   the   sins   of   the   real   world   of   which   she   now   faces .      now     ?     she   is   someone   who   fears   the   fire   inside   of   them ,    despite   the   future   of   which   lays   ahead   where   she   will   burn   for   those   who   also   fear   the   same   fire .     but   he   is   right .     every   word .     &     yet   the   only   words   of   which   escape   their   lips     :     “     i   think   it   may   be   easier   for   you   to   believe   in   me   than   it   is   for   me   to   believe   in   myself .     but   i   appreciate   your   words .     &     …     when   i   die ,    i   don’t   want   to   die   alone .     ”     the   truth   makes   tears   push   at   the   dam .

shinso’s comfort has always been stained and shoddy,   the tickle of words burning at the back of his throat...      they would be left unsaid for some time.    he could never seem to free them from the long prison of his throat,    the muscle and sinew and bone squeezing around the outline of his broken tongue   [   it was harder when they were not friends:     he only had a few people who had managed to wrangle that title free from him and,  while he respected her,   it was better to keep his conversations with others to a minimum   ].        but he could see the vague trace of concern outline her features,    a wounded darkness that laid in the pit of her eyes,   and he knew she needed something.     he wished that izuku was here.        ‘        i don’t believe in just anyone   --   and i don’t believe in people without a reason.     so don’t take my words for granted.       ’        there’s a warm reprimand in his words,   though he tries to nudge it into something fond.     a blink and a swallow accompanies her next words,    his heart a heavy fruit in his chest   [   unripe for the harvest,   too young to taste like anything but lost potential   ].        ‘       you won’t die alone.       ’

[brainwashe]

chargeboltea​:

𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐃𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓?   kaminari’s expression is sheepish as they recall many nights spent under the red glow of the numbered alarm clock,   the light casting shadows in the room from his desk lamp as hands scribble shapes onto dotted paper.   [ the homework schedule bakugo had meticulously helped kaminari carve out sits on the corner, untouched and forgotten within the chaos of their school week. ]   letters had always come easier to kaminari than numbers,   but they’d always struggled to allow themselves enough time to complete assignments without rushing.   his papers are always littered with red marker,   pointing out silly spelling mistakes.   𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐁𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐄,   he says,   and kaminari is inclined to believe him with the wholeness of his heart.      ❝   i think i can do that.   ❞      boy mutters overtop the videogame theme music,   attention split between the screen and his company.

there’s a light and easy smile to kaminari’s face as shinso settles himself on the floor in the space between kaminari’s legs,   that only widens at his admission of not knowing what he’s doing.   [ but he won’t tease him,   not this time:   they figure they’ve done plenty of that today for the time being. ]   they lean over into shinso’s space,   now,   wobbly fingers coming to tap a button on the other boy’s controller.      ❝   i noticed you lose a lost of speed going around corners   —   you slow down so you don’t crash into things!   which is like,   totally fine if that’s what you want to do,   but if you hold this button down,   it will let you like   [ … ]   glide around corners,   so you don’t have to slow down.   it’s called drifting.   try that first!   ❞

their lives were clearly shrouded in chaos,   everyday coming with new challenges that could threaten their lives...     and they still had to focus on homework.      it had been easier in general studies:    there had been more homework,    but there had been endless time to squeeze it in   [   sometimes,  on the hero course,  shinso couldn’t find a minute to even breathe   --   he walked around with a constant migraine from everything they go through together   ].     but he had always known that his dream would take work,   and definitely more work than some of his peers,   as the homework came in dribs and drabs around a rather intense training schedule.    he had not been naturally blessed with muscle.   EVERYTHING HE DID WAS TO BUILD STRENGTH AND ENDURANCE,  OVER AND OVER AGAIN,   UNTIL HIS BODY BECAME LESS OF A HINDRANCE AND MORE OF A HELPING HAND.        ‘        you know,  lots of heroes aren’t so good at the, uh...    academic side of things.       ’       his fingers tap absently against the controller as he tries to force his tongue to tread out the words.       ‘       it doesn’t make you less of a hero.    just try to get it done quicker so you don’t have any detentions.       ’

shinso leans a little back,  driven by instinct,   as kaminari inches into his space...     he can smell the conditioner they must have used sometime this morning,  yellow strands brushing against his cheek.    he tilts his controller towards kaminari,   watching the other’s longer finger pluck at a button or two.        ‘        oh.        ’         shinso ghosted his finger over the buttons that kaminari had touched,   swearing that he could still feel the warmth of his touch lingering there.        ‘        can you show me again?        ’

[brainwashe]

ignicraft​:

          HE IS NEVER KEEN TO ACQUIESCE TO ANYONE TELLING HIM WHAT TO DO ; HE’S ALWAYS CRAFTED HIS OWN RULEBOOK. but right now , in this ludicrous predicament , he acknowledges the fact that he’s being forced to play by someone else’s rules & that someone else is the goddamn FELINE still hooked into the fabric of his jacket. pearly whites grit & grind down against each other & every dentist in the immediate vicinity begins to cringe at the disturbance in the air. ‘ i’ve STOPPED already , can you just fuckin’ ⎯⎯! ‘ his sentence halts short , a breath catching within the hollow of his throat & clamminess invading the skin of his palms. cardinal hues shrink as the whites of his eyes widen & for once , katsuki bakugo is SILENT on the attempt to process what the fuck he just heard. there’s absolutely no way shinsou had regarded him like that , addressed him like that , but there wasn’t a proper pause between the two statements & katsuki is already in the mood to kill. ‘ ⎯⎯ … you better be talkin’ to the motherfuckin’ cat. ‘ 

shinso rolls his eyes easily enough at the outburst the other was suffering through...      he did not care for bakugou’s mercurial nature   [   to weather a storm meant to stay as far away from it as possible   --   while izuku might be willing to run into the outpour,   open mouth pointed towards the wealth of grey clouds that grew above,   shinso was content to shrink away from it   ].     THE CAT,  THOUGH,  WAS AN INNOCENT BYSTANDER IN NEED OF RESCUE...      shinso continued to make soft little clicking noises with his mouth,   rubbing his fingers together in front of the cat’s face as if he was half - hiding a treat.     the cat’s interest seemed to be captured,   but his claws were still stuck in bakugou’s shirt.       hmm...    maybe the cat needed a few pets before being pried off the other.       ‘       why would i call you pretty?       ’        there’s no childish pettiness in shinso’s voice as he speaks.    he had been born with such malicious intent.     his mouth is set in an easy line,   his fingers rushing through the soft fur atop of the strange cat’s head.       ‘       you have such an ego sometimes.   i’m amazed you manage to make it through the day.        ’

[brainwashe]

continued       from       here.         @unhallo​

she lacks a cautious nature,    her hands reaping destruction upon the world as if every issue was so easily solved with reckless violence...      shinso has always been good at seeking out clues:    her wrists seem plump with muscle,   the dried leaves standing no chance against her form   [   a sort of unpracticed strength,    a clumsy relationship with power   --   there is something unhoned about her   ].         ‘        it could have been something much more dangerous than a squirrel.    i’d appreciate if you didn’t put us in any other danger by being stupid.        ’       his hand had been wrapped around his voice changer,   yet to crest over his mouth   --   his nails were blunted from digging into the cool metal,   speckles of black staining the edges of his fingertips.      CAUTION WAS HIS OLDEST FRIEND.    he wrapped his fist around it and tugged...      it responded by nuzzling against his open palm,   refusing to dig its ruthless claws into his skin   [   sometimes,   love was merely stopping the killing noise   ].     his hand goes slack,   moving to his side:    just a squirrel,   just a reason to breathe easily,   forcing air into his collapsing lungs.          ‘        all teenagers with any sense are...     and i wasn’t scared.        ’        he had been.        ‘        i think something was following me a little ways back.        ’

[brainwashe]

aeohn​:

HANDS     reach up to the sky. for a second he imagines that part of his ash black and the heavens burning red. “ a disappearing act for which i didn’t wish for. and when it was reversed i had the police on my back for something i didn’t do. ” he clicks with his tongue as his hand finds itself in his coat’s pocket.

“ … after that i had preferred to be working in the convenience store during the whole of christmas while shitty music played. ”

shinso’s face is a rigid cut of stone,   impassive in its artful deception...      he has always hid his emotions well   [   even now,  as curiosity bites at his fingertips,   he does not give away any leverage:     letting other people know that their information was worth something was already a dangerous beginning to any game   ].        ‘       that sounds like a curious situation.        ’        the flicker of his tongue against his teeth,    a breath inhaled.       ‘       what was that thing you didn’t do?     false accusations are often rooted in some truth.       ’