#YK HOW HINATA'S ALWAYS HAVING AN ENTIRE LOVE STORY OF HIS OWN IN YOUR SMAUS 😭😭😭

[causenessus]

get back has me feeling such a way i always hit the tag limit for it 😭 a few centuries from now when they make a history textbook on tumblr they'll have a chapter dedicated to eggy and use this picture as a primary source picture of the followers of eggy

GET BACK CHAPTER TWO

step two: grovel from afar

masterlist

YOU HAVE ONE NEW MESSAGE

hottwin (14:32:56): what's that one song. that one you played while you were crying over ur ex ninjashoyo (14:34:03): wtf man hottwin (14:24:47): ik ik can u just tell me the song ninjashoyo (14:25:55): high and dry by radiohead hottwin (14:28:35): thanks. im posting it on my instagram story so omi thinks im cool

It takes three attempts for her to get her keys in the door. Her vision is blurred with sleep, and her jaw drops with a yawn as she finally pushes open the door with her hip, and slinks into her apartment, lazily kicking off her shoes. Her evening was spent in the quietest, most selcuded corner of the univeristy library, pouring over different Beowulf translations.

If her roommates are out in the open, lingering in the kitchen or the living room, she doesn't notice. Her mind is a blurred with fantasies of her soft, warm bed and images of the monstrous Grendel, exiled to the swamplands of Denmark.

Her bedroom door is open, and she kicks it shut as she enters, only letting her heavy, book-filled bag drop from her shoulders to the ground before she collapses into her sheets. The muscles in her neck ache so horribly from hunching over to scribble out her annotations that she almost doesn't notice the paper that crinkles under her.

Her face contorts in confusion, and her hand fishes around the sheets until it finds the offending paper. An envelope. She squints, looking at her name, scribbled in large handwriting across the front.

At once, dread tightens around her throat. She knows that handwriting. She knows it like its her own.

Muscles tensed and jaw locked, she throws it off the side of her bed, huffing, trying not to be curious about the contents. She rolls onto her side and squeezes her eyes sight, determined to sleep, to not be bothered, to let it sit, untouched.

She will not entertain Hinata Shoyo.

This resolve lasts for about a minute before she's groaning, hopping off of her bed and reaching down to retrieve the letter off the floor. She rips it open with shaking hands, thinking the whole time that she might throw up or cry.

She unfolds the notebook paper. She chews on the inside of her cheek. She reads.

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not proofread we die like men