Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It had been one of those Wednesdays—slow, dragging, endless.

School had drained him dry. All he wanted now was to get home, boot up his computer, grab something sugary, and lose himself in games or some dumb video. Just chill.

But before he could properly sink into that after-school haze, there was one last thing on his to-do list: join the chemistry group chat his friends had set up.

So he did. Or at least, he thought he did.

The code worked. The chat opened.

Only... none of the names looked familiar.

 Greenling joined the server

Dabi: who tf is this?

SpinnyBoi: umm no idea? @Dust

Greenling: Uhh i think i may have joined the wrong server (T_T)

TogaTwist: OOOH a new person??

Dust: what study group has a name close to "Griefers United" ? 

Greenling: In my defence...I did not check the server name..

Dabi: what kind of idiot does that LOL

Greenling: o(〒﹏〒)o
Greenling: I can just leave—sorry for the mix-up, I guess?

TogaTwist: NOOO he's so cute, can we keep him? Pleeeeease

SpinnyBoi: Yea im kinda curious now LOL 

Dust: Fine, he can stay. for now.

Izuku stared at the screen, stunned. Well, that was… unexpected.

Still, no one seemed angry—if anything, they were weirdly welcoming. He figured, Why not stay? It’s not like he had anything better to do tonight. And if things got weird? He could just dip. Simple.

He pushed his chair back and wandered into the tiny kitchen, eventually finding a sad-looking cup of instant ramen. It would have to do. Note to self: grocery shopping tomorrow.

Minutes later, he was back at his desk with steaming noodles in one hand and his mouse in the other, booting up a ranked match like nothing ever happened.

Halfway through his game, the server pinged again.

TogaTwist: @Greeling what game u playin 👀

Izuku blinked. Was she watching him somehow? He typed back hesitantly, one hand still slurping noodles.

Greenling: just queued ranked. League of Legends.

SpinnyBoi: YO same, what’s your rank

Dust: We should play flex. Greeling, you in?

Suddenly, he wasn’t just playing to unwind anymore. He was making plans. With strangers. On a server called Griefers United.

Greenling: Sure, ill just finish up this game (´• ω •`)

Dabi: who tf uses emojis like that

TogaTwist: SO CUTEEE 

Dust: Just join voice chat when ur ready

Izuku hovered over the voice channel icon.
His cursor trembled just a little. What was he even doing? These were complete strangers.
Still… he clicked.

A soft chime echoed in his headset as the channel connected. For a second, all he heard was background noise—keyboard clacks, someone breathing.

Then he heard a raspy voice, low and unimpressed:
“He joined.”
That had to be Dabi.

A second later, a bright, singsong voice cut through the silence:
“Hiiii Greenling~! Welcome!”
She sounded like someone who smiled while talking. Definitely TogaTwist.
Someone else let out a laugh—warm, a little goofy:
“Yo! He actually did it.”
That was SpinnyBoi, easygoing and clearly amused.

And then came a calm, measured voice. Quieter, but firm.
“You’re muted, by the way.”
That had to be Dust. He sounded like the one in charge, even without trying.

Izuku’s hand flew to his headset controls, and unmuted himself

“Uh—hi,” he managed, voice a little shaky. “Yeah, sorry, I , um, usually dont talk”

There was a pause.

Not tense, exactly. Just long enough to feel it.Someone coughed. A spoon clinked against a mug.

Then the raspy voice returned—dry, teasing:

“Damn. I thought you'd be a girl.”

Izuku froze.

“Dabi, you can’t just say that—”

SpinnyBoi: “Brooo.”
Dabi (unbothered): “What? The emojis. The voice. I had a vibe.”

Izuku wasn’t sure whether to laugh or log off. He settled for a nervous chuckle.
“Uh… sorry to disappoint?”

Dust: “Don’t mind him. He’s an idiot.”
TogaTwist: “You’re adorable either way”
SpinnyBoi: “Yo, let’s add each other. What’s your IGN?”
Greenling: HeroicTears

One by one friend requests popped up on his screen. He accepted them all, blinking at the sudden chaos.

Dust immediately invited him to the lobby and started a queue.It didn’t take long for the game to start—right alongside the brainless chatter. 

Izuku stayed quiet—not because he had nothing to say, but because he kind of liked just listening. The voices overlapped, bouncing between new skins, patch notes, and whatever chaos the latest update had brought.

He was a little flustered, sure. Being the new guy in voice chat with total strangers was weird.
But after a few minutes, the noise stopped feeling overwhelming. It started to feel... comfortable.

He leaned back in his chair, letting their chatter fill the space while the game loaded in. It wasn’t much, but it felt nice. Like the start of something.

The loading screen faded, and the champion select screen popped up.

SpinnyBoi: “Alright, who’s going where? I swear if someone insta-locks top again—”
TogaTwist: “Jungle~! Dibs!”
Dabi: “Ugh, you never gank.”
TogaTwist: “I gank emotionally.”
Dust: “I’ll support. Greenling, you okay with ADC?”
Izuku blinked. “Uh—yeah, I can do that.”
Dabi: “Bold of you to trust him with damage output.”
SpinnyBoi: “He’s new, not useless. Chill.”

Izuku hovered over his champion. His hands were still a little clammy, but the sound of their voices—bickering, teasing, laughing—somehow made it easier to breathe.

As the game loaded in, he caught himself smiling.

Not because anything particularly good had happened yet.

Just... because it felt good to be here.

The countdown ended. The match began.

Chapter Text

“Minions have spawned.”

The robotic voice echoed in his headset, followed instantly by overlapping voices.

Dust: “Greenling, buy items. Start Doran’s and a potion.”

TogaTwist: “Ooooh, are we invading? Let’s invade. I want blood.”

Dabi: “It’s minute one, chill. We don’t all need to die at river.”

SpinnyBoi: “Top diff already.”

Izuku smirked despite himself, fingers flying over his keys. He wasn’t top-tier, but he knew his way around ADC. Mechanics weren’t the problem, he spent a lot of time playing in the past—it was doing it while four personalities screamed in his ears that was the challenge.

He made it to lane on time, setting up behind his tower as Dust’s support champion glided into the bush beside him.

Dust (even, low voice): “Just focus on farming. I’ll watch river. Ping if you need peel.”

Izuku glanced at his minimap. Dabi was top lane—he hadn’t stopped trash-talking since champ select. Toga was in the jungle, already pinging she was "on her way" at level two. SpinnyBoi had taken mid and was currently taunting the enemy Ahri in all chat.

It was chaos.

But somehow, it worked.

The first few minutes passed in a blur. Izuku held his lane cleanly, dodging poke and landing last-hits with practiced ease. Dust didn’t say much, but his shields were perfectly timed, his positioning smart. They had rhythm.

Izuku focused hard, his fingers flying across the keys. Every trade in lane felt sharp. His CS was decent. His ult timing was landing like clockwork. And when he caught the enemy jungler out with a surprise combo—

TogaTwist : “OHHHHH GET ‘EM, GREENLING!!”

SpinnyBoi: “My guy is cracked! That was clean as hell!”

Izuku leaned back in his chair, heart pounding. A grin tugged at his lips.

He should play more. It had been a while, but damn, he still loved it.

His KDA was solid. His positioning? Tight. And every time he landed a clean ult, Toga and SpinnyBoi hyped him up like he’d just soloed Baron.

It caught him off guard at first—the cheers, the attention—but it felt... good. He didn’t say much, didn’t need to. They didn’t seem to mind.

Dust, ever calm and unreadable, finally spoke:

Dust: “Nice follow-up.”

Izuku blinked. Was that a compliment?

Dabi (mock gasping): “Aww, is that Dusty playing nice? What’s this? Actual praise? Be still my heart.”

Dust (cold): “Shut up, you idiot. You’re losing your lane.”

Dabi (unbothered): “I’m building suspense. Letting them get cocky. It’s called psychological warfare.”

SpinnyBoi: “You’re 0/3.”

TogaTwist: “And zero wards!”

Dabi: “Wow. Betrayal. I start talking and suddenly I'm public enemy number one.”

They argued over who kill-stole who, over tower dives that definitely weren’t Dust’s fault, and whether or not Spinner’s skin choice was "objectively cursed."

And through it all, Izuku just played.

Happy. Focused. Steady.

He wasn’t just keeping up—he was holding his own.

Victory.

A half-second of silence—and then pure chaos.

TogaTwist: “LET’S GOOOOO!!”

SpinnyBoi: “MVP HAS TO BE GREENLING, RIGHT?? I MEAN—THAT LAST TEAMFIGHT—”

Dabi: “Okay, okay, I distracted them, clearly. Tactical deaths.”

Dust (flatly): “You ran it down mid because you misclicked.”

Dabi: “Exactly. A mind game. That’s high-level bait, Dusty. Sorry you can’t comprehend.”

Izuku laughed—actually laughed, unmuted and everything.

“Good game, guys.”

His voice was soft, still a little shaky, but no one mocked him. If anything, it got quieter for a second, like they were surprised to hear it.

Dust (grudgingly): “You did good.”

TogaTwist: “You were amazing! Are you sure you’re not smurfing?”

SpinnyBoi: “Deadass thought you were gonna be dead weight. My bad, bro. You’re cracked.”

Izuku flushed. He wasn’t used to this—being praised, noticed, seen.

His chest felt light.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Guess I just got lucky.”

Dabi: “Nah. You’ve got timing. And zero ego. Kinda rare in this game.”

Dust: “That’s because he doesn’t talk enough to have one.”

More laughter. Another friend request notification popped up—Dust this time.

Izuku accepted it without thinking.

He leaned back in his chair, warm ramen forgotten and cold by now, the faint buzz of adrenaline still in his fingers.

This wasn’t what he planned for the evening. But it didn’t feel like a mistake anymore.

It felt like a start.

After everyone logged off with their usual excuses, Izuku wasn’t sure what would come next—until a notification popped up from the server.

TogaTwist: You better come back tomorrow, Greenling. I need someone to carry me.

SpinnyBoi: Fr, we queue again same time?

Izuku blinked at the screen.

Was that… an invite? Like, for real?

Greenling: Sure. If you guys don’t mind.(O_O;)

Dabi: Mind? We just carried your ass to victory. You owe us.

Dust: He carried you. Let’s not rewrite history.

The laughter came quick and easy after that.

Izuku didn’t know if it would last.

Maybe they were just being nice.

Maybe it was just a one-time thing.

But even if it was…

For now, he felt like part of something.

And he kind of wanted to come back.

Chapter Text

Thursday started with drooping eyes and a caffeine-dependency crisis.

Izuku barely made it to his morning lecture on time, hoodie thrown over his messy hair, thermos clutched like a lifeline. The night before had bled into morning without him realizing. He hadn’t meant to stay up so late—but one match turned into three somehow.

The classroom was already half full. He slid into his usual seat in the second-to-last row, dropping his bag with a dull thud.

A second later, someone nudged him.

“Jeez, Deku,” Uraraka said, voice light, amused. “You look like you lost a fight with a truck.”

“More like… three,” he muttered, yawning into his sleeve.

“Stayed up late again?”

He hesitated, then nodded. “A little. Yeah.”

She didn’t press. Just gave him that teasing half-smile. “Better be worth it.”

He offered a sheepish grin in return. “I think it was.”

Todoroki arrived next, settling into the seat two rows down, earbuds in, tablet glowing. He didn’t say anything, didn’t have to—he just gave Izuku a nod of acknowledgment before zoning out entirely.

Then, about ten minutes into the lecture, Katsuki kicked the door open (as always), grunted a half-hearted “Tch,” and threw himself into a chair near the front with enough force to rattle the desk. Izuku flinched on instinct.

Some things didn’t change.

The rest of the lecture passed in a haze of soft note-taking and near-dozing. Izuku caught himself almost writing down a build path instead of economic formulas.

Gaming still buzzed in the back of his mind. Last night’s voice chat. That chaotic energy. The way they’d cheered for him.

By 2 p.m., he remembered the most tragic part of his week:

       He had no food. None.

No rice. No noodles. Not even an emergency apple. He sighed, grabbed his hoodie again, and made the walk to the corner grocery.

It was overcast outside—sticky heat clinging to his skin as he moved through the aisles with a basket in hand and a quiet playlist playing in his ears.

He picked up the essentials:

A fresh pack of rice.

Instant ramen (the spicy kind, the one that made his eyes water).

Eggs.

A few vegetables (enough to look responsible).

Milk tea cans (definitely not responsible, but necessary).

He thought about grabbing frozen dumplings,they were delicious, then remembered how long it had taken him to clean the pan last time.

His phone buzzed mid-checkout.

Then again.

TogaTwist: “greenliiiingggggg 😭 you better not be ghosting us”

SpinnyBoi: “if you ditched us for another party i will cry for real”

Dabi: “unbelievable. we welcome him and this is how he repays us.”

Dust: [Lobby Invite Sent]

Izuku blinked down at the screen.

...They were waiting for him?

Dabi: “Greenling has abandoned us. classic betrayal arc.”

SpinnyBoi: “i was so ready to mourn you dramatically.”

TogaTwist: “in lowercase, like this: ‘rip greenling’”

Dabi: “nah i want full funeral vibes. sad music. slideshow. candle emoji.”

Dust: “Are you coming or not.”

He fumbled for his phone and quickly typed back:

Greenling: “wait wait im here i was just buying groceries!!”

TogaTwist: “you shop?? like a normal person??”

SpinnyBoi: “what did you get? this is critical info.”

Greenling: “uhh... ramen. eggs. veggies. milk tea?”

Dabi: “Greenling’s diet: depression and hope”

TogaTwist: “at least he’s got milk tea. that’s elite.”

Dust: “Log on.”

The sun had already dipped low by the time Izuku stepped out of the corner store, a thin grocery bag hanging from one hand. The air was warm, soft with that slow autumn evening haze, and the streets were still busy with chatter, footsteps.

He took his time walking, headphones in but music off.

Just thinking.

It had been a long day.

Classes were fine—normal. He’d taken notes, nodded along through a dry lecture, shared an awkward smile with Uraraka when she lightly scolded him for yawning during ethics. "You stayed up again, didn’t you? Seriously, Midoriya, you’ll burn out."

Todoroki hadn’t said much, just passed him the handout he’d forgotten.

Bakugo had scoffed at him near the vending machines and muttered something like “Don’t trip on the sidewalk, nerd,” which, by Bakugo standards, was practically a heartfelt goodbye.

Izuku hadn’t mentioned what he was doing last night. Not because he was hiding it—it just felt… separate.

Private.

Personal.

They wouldn’t understand, maybe. Or maybe they would and that scared him more.

Because truthfully? He hadn’t felt like this in a while.

The way the chaos of that match from last night still clung to his memory. The cheering. The arguing. The rhythm of teamwork. The moment Dust’s shield hit just in time, and he got the final shot in. The laughter.

God, the laughter.

Izuku smiled to himself as he stepped up the stairs to his apartment, bag rustling with every movement. He unlocked the door and shuffled in, dropping keys into the bowl, slipping his shoes off with a sigh.

He didn’t even bother putting away the groceries this time.

Just walked straight to his desk, dumped the bag onto the floor, and sat down with a thud.

He hesitated, finger hovering over the power button on his pc. A part of him was nervous—what if it was different today? What if last night had just been a fluke? A one-time thing?

The familiar hum of his PC filled the room as Izuku booted up the game. His headphones clicked on, and within seconds, the server chat lit up.

TogaTwist: AHA there he is!!

SpinnyBoi: greenling returns 👑

Dabi: about time. i was about to demote you to bench

He quickly put on his headphones, and joined the lobby, as well as the voice chat.For a second, it was just soft mic static and someone tapping their keys.

SpinnyBoi: “Yo.”

Toga: “Hi hiiii! Took you long enough!”

Greenling (quietly): “Hey.”

Dabi (dry): “He speaks.”

Dust (blunt): “Didn’t expect you to show. Good. We queue or not?”

Toga: “Dust! Be nice, he’s here now.”

Dust: “Didn’t say I wasn’t.”

SpinnyBoi: “He missed you, that’s what he meant. That’s his love language.”

Dabi: “His love language is hostile silence.”

Greenling: “…I’m good to start.”

There was a short pause—then someone’s champion select click echoed through VC like a gunshot.

Toga: “LET’S GOOO. Greenling’s back! Time to ruin some egos.”

SpinnyBoi: “Only if Dabi doesn’t feed again.”

Dabi: “You wound me. I’m the emotional carry of this team.”

Dust: “You’re emotionally unstable.”

Izuku bit back a laugh, fingers already moving on instinct as he queued up his ADC pick.

He hadn’t realized it until now, but… he’d kind of missed this.

He stared at the champion portraits sliding across the screen. His pick glowed in the center. Familiar. Comforting.

Toga: “Oooh, I love this comp. We’re gonna win.”

SpinnyBoi: “If we don’t, it’s Dabi’s fault.”

Dabi: “Why is it always me?”

Dust: “You died to Gromp last game.”

Dabi: “That was one time. And I was texting.”

Izuku (quietly): “Maybe don’t text during jungle rotation...”

There was a beat of silence.

Then…

SpinnyBoi: “OH SHIT he speaks and throws shade.”

Toga: “He’s becoming one of us.”

Dabi (mock betrayal): “Even you, Greenling?”

Izuku felt heat rise to his ears, but he couldn’t stop the smile.

They made it easy. No pressure. No questions.

Just chaotic support and game callouts and—oddly—respect.

And... they were waiting for him. Not just tolerating him.

Wanting him here.

The loading bar hit 100%.

Dust: “Focus up.”

Toga: “Y’all ready to ruin someone’s elo?”

Izuku: “...Yeah.”

He straightened in his chair.

“Let’s win this.”

“Thirty seconds until minions spawn.”

He wiggled his mouse, watching his ADC model bounce ever-so-slightly.

Dust: “Standard leash, leash hard. I want level two fast.”

Izuku moved into position, automatically pinging the jungle entrance for Toga. Dust’s support hovered beside him, stoic as ever.

Toga: “Don’t worry, Greenling. Mama’s gonna get you fed. I’m already planning a gank before their botlane hits puberty.”

Dabi: “That’s horrifying. You’re horrifying. Why are you like this.”

SpinnyBoi: “She’s committed to the bit. Let her thrive.”

By level 2, they had the enemy botlane shoved under tower.

Dust: “I’m going. Shielding. You follow.”

It was barely a whisper of a plan, but Izuku knew.

The moment Dust hit his stun, Izuku was there—auto, auto, W , ignite, kill.

Toga: “LET’S GOOOOOOO!!!”

SpinnyBoi: “Botlane gap!! BOTLANE GAP!!”

Dabi: “Wow. All this and I’m still being blamed for dying to Fiora.”

Dust: “Because you died. To Fiora. Again.”

Izuku just smiled, and quietly said

“Thanks for the stun”

They rotated like clockwork—Dust peeling expertly in fights, Izuku sidestepping everything from skillshots to facechecks. When Dust dropped a clutch ult to save him mid-fight, Izuku turned the moment into a double kill.

Toga: “You two are insane. Do you have, like, telepathy?”

SpinnyBoi: “Nah, Greenling just listens. Revolutionary concept.”

Dabi: “Imagine actually coordinating. Couldn’t be me.”

Even the enemy team typed "bot diff" in all chat.

Victory was inevitable.

Final teamfight came midlane. Spinner baited, Toga flanked, and when Dust dropped an ult that caught three, Izuku followed with a clean triple kill.

Victory.

The screen glowed gold.

Toga: “GREENLING MVP, I’M TELLING YOU—YOU’RE BUILT DIFFERENT.”

SpinnyBoi: “I clipped that last fight. I’m making it my lock screen.”

Dabi: “I was emotional support. Don’t say I didn’t contribute.”

Dust: “You died trying to solo Baron.”

Dabi: “And yet, morale was high.”

His laughter lingered, leaving his cheeks aching from the smile he hadn’t realized he’d been wearing. The groceries on the floor were long forgotten.

They were ridiculous.

Loud.

Supportive.

Unfiltered.

And for the first time in a long time, he felt like he belonged.

Chapter Text

It was a slow Friday afternoon. Izuku sat at his desk, half-listening to a podcast while scrolling through his phone. Then—an unexpected ping.

A DM from Dust.

Dust? Seriously? He blinked, a bit surprised.

Dust: “So… you’re gonna keep hiding from us all day, or what? Friday’s nearly over and we’re starting to wonder if you’re a ghosting us.”

Izuku smirked, fingers twitching over the keyboard.

Greenling: “Uh… no, just caught up with stuff. Didn’t mean to ghost.”

Dust: “Sure. Saving the world? Or just busy being lame?”

Greenling: “A little bit of both, maybe.”

Dust: “Modest as always. Don’t get used to me cutting you slack.”

Greenling: “Honestly, didn’t expect you to DM me. w(°ｏ°)w “

Dust: “I’m full of surprises. Or I just can’t deal with the others right now.”

Greenling: “Fair.. (￣ω￣)/ “

Dust: “Look, quit being a lone wolf and jump on voice chat this weekend. Otherwise, I’ll start thinking you’re allergic to fun. ”

Dust: “I can’t lose more LP Greenling.”

Izuku chuckled softly.

Greenling: “I’ll consider it.(・ω・)”

Dust: “You better. Or I’ll remind everyone how you nearly died to minions. More than once.”

Izuku shook his head, smiling.

Greenling: “You’re impossible.”

Dust: “And yet here I am, still bothering you. Figure that out.”

Feeling a little lighter than he had all day, Izuku pushed back from his desk and stood up. He stretched, the stiffness in his shoulders easing.

He walked into the kitchen, grabbed a glass from the cupboard, and filled it with water.

The coolness felt good in his hands, grounding him back in the quiet apartment.

Leaning against the counter, he took a slow sip and glanced out the window at the early evening sky, soft pink and gray clouds stretching across the horizon.

Maybe this weekend wouldn’t be so bad after all.

Friday night rolled around, and nothing exciting was going on. He was lying in bed at 10 p.m., watching cat videos—a bit sad, really. After staying up for two days straight and sitting through lectures, tiredness had definitely caught up with him.

Izuku was about to put his phone down when a new message popped up in the group chat.

TogaTwist: “Okay, serious question — if Dust was a pizza topping, what would he be?”

SpinnyBoi: “Pineapple. Annoying but somehow necessary.”

Dabi: “Anchovies. Nobody wants it, but it always shows up anyway.”

Dust: “I’m a spicy anchovy. Suck it.”

A meme appeared: a grumpy cat wearing a crown with the caption “Dust: King of Sass.”

Greenling: “I feel like I'm just here for the memes and the verbal beatdowns. (￣▽￣) ”

TogaTwist: “Same. Can’t wait for Dust to roast Greenling in the game tomorrow.”

Dust: “Only if Greenling promises not to feed this time. Then ill just stick to flaming the idiot”

SpinnyBoi: “Feeding? Nah, that’s just advanced tactics.”

TogaTwist: “Wait who is the idiot in this scenario? U call all of us idiots T-T“

Dust: “ And THAT should answer your question.”

Izuku smiled, the usual stress easing off his shoulders.

Dabi: “Greenling, better bring your best or I’ll make a highlight reel of you almost dying to minions.”

Greenling: “You’re all relentless.”

The chat quieted down for a moment before Toga’s voice buzzed in the voice message, “Alright, jokes aside — who’s ready for weekend madness?”

Izuku typed back quickly, “Count me in. No promises on feeding though.”

The chat slowed eventually, the rapid-fire jokes tapering off into meme reactions and a few stray gifs. Izuku stared at the screen a moment longer, thumb hovering over the keyboard before deciding not to say anything else. It was late anyway.

He plugged his phone in, dropped it onto the nightstand, and sat up with a quiet sigh.

His room was dim and still, the soft hum of the fridge in the next room the only real sound. 

He didn't go to sleep, not yet.

Instead, he cleaned off the wrappers from earlier, cleared space on the desk, and reorganized his mousepad. His headset cord was a mess—he untangled it slowly, methodically, like it mattered. Like it would help him feel more ready somehow.

His fingers tapped a rhythm against the edge of his desk. He wasn't nervous exactly. Just… focused. Or maybe anticipating.

Tomorrow was going to be louder than this. He already knew that.

The yelling, the callouts, the chaos.

Dust’s dry commentary.

Toga’s unfiltered energy.

SpinnyBoi's weird jokes.

Dabi flaming everyone just because.

And Izuku—just trying to keep up.

He glanced once more at the blank screen. Then, quietly, smiled to himself. It was kind of dumb how much he was looking forward to it.

Maybe he’d even speak up a little more.

Maybe Dust would pass him a shield again.

For now, he let the day end and crawled into bed.

Chapter Text

The soft whirr of his computer filled the room as Izuku logged in, fingers moving automatically across the keyboard. The familiar splash screen loaded, music humming in his headphones, low and steady.

He hadn’t even joined the lobby yet when the messages started pouring in.

TogaTwist: “😤 TOOK YOU LONG ENOUGH GREENLING”

SpinnyBoi: “he lives!! someone screenshot this”

Dabi: “took so long i almost started solo queueing. almost.”

Izuku huffed a small laugh through his nose as he clicked to join the lobby.

The voice chat was already loud by the time Izuku joined.

Toga was screech-laughing over something Spinny had said, Dabi was swearing at the game client like it had personally insulted him and Dust—sounding like he had already regretted opening the game—was threatening to mute them all in under ten seconds.

Dust: “Pick. A. Role. Or I’m throwing this queue on purpose.”

TogaTwist: “I did pick! I picked chaos ”

SpinnyBoi: “I spiritually locked top. That counts.”

Dust: “You didn’t lock anything, idiot.”

Izuku slipped into the voice channel just as the timer ticked down. His headphones buzzed alive with the familiar storm of their voices.“You’re late,” Dust said immediately, tone sharp but not exactly angry. Just… expectant.

TogaTwist: “He’s fashionably late,Greenling arrives when the chaos peaks”

SpinnyBoi: “Or right when he’s about to get auto-filled jungle..”

Greenling: “...I can jungle.”

Dabi: “God help us.”

Dust: “If you die to minions, I swear—”

Greenling: “You already clipped it.”

Dust: “And I’ll repost it. Daily. With a dubstep remix.”

TogaTwist: “DUST’S MINION MONTAGE!!! Coming soon to a TikTok near you.”

Greenling: “You’re all evil.”

Dabi: “Evil, but undefeated.”

Dust: “Only if Greenling doesn’t feed first blood.”

Greenling: “Alright, alright, I’ll try not to feed. No promises though.”

Dust: “That’s all I ask. Just... survive longer than five minutes.”

TogaTwist: “Hey, I believe in you! Besides, feeding’s just part of the charm.”

Dabi (mock offended): “Hey, I’m the one who feeds, not Greenling! Someone’s gotta make the game interesting.”

Greenling (laughing): “Guess that makes me the reliable one then.”

SpinnyBoi: “Reliable? That’s new. What’s the catch?”

Greenling (quietly): “No catch. Just… trying to keep up with you all.”

TogaTwist: “Aww, look at you trying to fit in! It’s cute.”

Dust: “Don’t let it get to your head.”

Greenling (smiling softly): “At least I’m not the only one getting roasted.Dabi has it worse”

Dust (after a pause): “...You’re part of the team. Roasting’s just how we say that.”

Izuku quickly goes and texts in dms. Greenling: “Hey, Dust… thanks for dragging me into this. Feels less lonely.”

Dust: “Yeah… well, don’t expect me to get all mushy on you.”

Dust (clearing throat): “Alright, enough of the bullshit. Let’s get this started before I actually lose my mind.”

TogaTwist (giggling): “You’re secretly soft, Dust. Admit it.”

SpinnyBoi (snickering): “Yeah, the grumpy king has a heart.”

Greenling (chuckling): “Maybe just a little.”

Dabi: “Oh, come on Dust, a little soft side? That’s new.”

Dust: “Don’t push it, Dabi.”

Greenling: “No worries. I like it better this way.”

TogaTwist: “Look at you two, bonding already! ”

Greenling (chuckling): “Maybe. I just want to survive the game first.”

Dust: “Survive, carry, and don’t embarrass us.”

Greenling: “Deal.”

The match launched with a burst of motion and voice pings. Toga was already running in circles at base, typing nonsense into chat. Spinner locked in top lane like a gremlin possessed. Dabi was threatening to uninstall. And Dust?

Dust was already in position, focused, quiet—but not silent.

Dust: “Greenling. Blue buff. Leash. Don’t screw it up.”

Greenling: “I got it. Chill.”

Dust: “Don’t tell me to chill, I watched your last jungle clear. It was a war crime.”

Toga cackled in the background.

TogaTwist: “War crime jungle pathing!! New strat unlocked!”

Izuku couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him. His fingers danced across the keys, mouse gliding with practiced ease as he leashed Dust’s jungle camp.

The game kicked off like a storm—early fights, fast rotations, chaotic voice comms. Dabi tower-dived at level three (“worth it,” he claimed as he died), Spinner stole a kill with a poorly timed ignite, and Toga somehow ended up with the most gold on the team despite building entirely for utility.

And through it all, Izuku kept up. Better than last time. He warded well, landed key smites, even pulled off a clutch gank that got Spinner a double kill.

SpinnyBoi: “Greenling popping off?? Is this character growth??”

TogaTwist: “We trained him too well. He’s evolving.”

Dabi: “One good gank and y’all ready to knight him.”

Dust: “Took him long enough. Keep it up, Greenling.”

Izuku blinked at that. A compliment? From Dust?

His heart did a weird flutter. He quickly focused back on the map.

They were winning. The game was messy but theirs.

Mid-late game, things got more intense. Enemy team started grouping. The voice chat got louder. Pings flying, skills clashing.

They lost a teamfight. Dabi got picked off. Toga screamed. Dust swore so violently Izuku actually choked on air.

Dust: “WHY are we fighting 4v5 when I SAID WAIT. FOR. ME?!”

SpinnyBoi: “It looked winnable.”

Dust: “You ran in like a goldfish with a god complex.”

TogaTwist: “omg i’m crying— ‘goldfish with a god complex’ is going in the quotes doc.”

They regrouped. Slowed down. Reset vision. Izuku helped Dust secure Baron with a perfectly timed smite steal that made the chat explode.

Dabi: “WHAT.”

TogaTwist: “GREENLING CARRIES??!”

Dust: “...not bad.”

Izuku’s cheeks hurt from smiling.

By the time they pushed into the enemy base and the victory screen flashed across the monitor, the call erupted in shouts and keyboard slams.

TogaTwist: “WE DID ITTTT!!”

SpinnyBoi: “Victory smells like coping and broken game balance.”

Dabi: “Victory smells like me carrying your asses. You’re welcome.”

Dust: “No one died to minions. It’s a miracle.”

Izuku leaned back in his chair, heart still racing from the final fight.

Greenling: “...Good game.”

There was a pause. Then Dust’s voice, quieter this time.

Dust: “Yeah. You did good.”

Izuku’s breath caught, just for a second.

The silence after Dust’s words wasn’t really silence. It was filled with the soft static of the voice channel, the lingering echo of their victory, the slight creak of someone shifting in their chair on the other end. But no one rushed to fill it, and that somehow meant more than anything else.

SpinnyBoi: “So… rematch or food break?”

TogaTwist: “Rematch. I’m still high on dopamine and spite.”

Dabi: “I’m ordering takeout and then rematching. I play better when I’m full of rage and fried chicken.”

Greenling: “Mhmm, i might order something later too, i have no energy to cook”

Dust: “Five minutes. Then queue up again.”

Izuku pulled up a delivery app on his phone, listening to the background noise in the chat.Scrolling through his options to eat.

A soft ding pulled him out of his thoughts.

Dust: “You’re getting better. Don’t stop now”

It was a private DM. His stomach made a weird turn when he read it. Dust praised him. That was unexpected.. He stared at the message longer than he would like to admit.

Greenling: “Thanks, I’ll keep it up (˵˃ ᗜ ˂˵) “

Then he quickly added.

Greenling: “You did great too, wanna go bot together? (,,>﹏<,,) “

Dust: “Pfft- Who else do you think ill play support for?”

The cursor blinked at him after that.

Izuku stared at the screen longer than necessary, lips slightly parted, heart doing that dumb flutter thing again. The noise of the voice chat faded into background static—Toga and Spinner yelling about skins, Dabi rage-scrolling through a food app.

But Izuku wasn’t really listening.

Dust’s message sat there, quietly glowing in the DM window. Simple. Teasing. But it stuck.

“Who else do you think i’ll play support for?”

It wasn’t even that big of a deal. Dust joked all the time. Roasted people like it was his first language. But something about this—about being chosen, even in a throwaway reply—hit harder than it should’ve.

And that first message still lingered too:

“You’re getting better. Don’t stop now.”

No one had said that to him in a long time. Not like that. Not with meaning tucked between the words.

Izuku exhaled slowly, phone still in one hand, fingers hovering over the delivery app. Part of him wanted to type something else back—something meaningful. Something honest.

But what even was this?

A team? A game? A group of chaotic weirdos yelling over voice chat?

Or was it something more?

Was he hoping it was something more?

He bit his bottom lip, trying to will the heat from his cheeks. Dumb. This was dumb. Dust was probably already queueing again, already back in try hard mode, already forgetting what he typed like it meant nothing.

But it meant something to Izuku.And that was scary to think about.

He leaned back in his chair, blinking up at the ceiling, taking a deep breath he repositioned himself in his chair. Something warm bloomed in his chest—small,but real.

Chapter Text

The next match queueed faster than Izuku expected. Maybe Dust had instantly slammed the ready button—maybe Izuku had too.

This time, they were bot lane. Together.

Greenling: ADC.

Dust: Support.

Toga screamed when she saw it.

TogaTwist: “BOT DUO?? EXCUSE ME??”

SpinnyBoi: “Wait wait wait—IS THIS A SHIP?!”

Dabi: “I’m filing a formal report for mid-match flirting”

Izuku flushed even though no one could see him.

Greenling: “I’m just trying not to die, guys.”

Dust: “Focus up. If he dies, I blame you, Toga.”

TogaTwist: “Rude. But fair.”

The game loaded. The match start countdown ticked down again, but this time it felt… different.

They spawned together at the base. Dust’s support champ hovered just beside his own—a little too close. He wasn’t imagining it. They moved almost in sync. A low-key choreography only hours of games could teach.

Dust: “Play safe until level 3. I’ll zone.”

Greenling: “Got it.”

Dust: “And don’t push unless I ping. Seriously. No hero plays.”

Greenling: “…Define ‘hero play’.”

Dust: “Anything that gets you killed and me yelling.”

Izuku couldn’t help smiling again. Dust’s voice was calm now, low and clipped but familiar. Guiding, steady. He liked it more than he should’ve.

The first few minutes went smooth. Their coordination was sharp. Dust hit every stun. Izuku followed up with clean trades. The enemy lane backed off.

Mid-game, a risky fight broke out around dragon. Chaos. Screams. Someone pinged retreat six times. Toga dived anyway.

Dabi: “Why are we like this.”

SpinnyBoi: “Because therapy is expensive.”

Izuku chased the enemy ADC through the jungle. Too deep. Too far.

Greenling: “Crap, I overextended—”

Dust: “On your left.”

Just before the gank landed, Dust flashed into the brush. Shielded him. Turned the fight around.

Greenling: “You saved me.”

Dust: “Well, I was going to flame you, but you didn’t die, so… congrats.”

Greenling (laughing): “High praise from Dust.”

Dust didn’t respond immediately.

Then—

Dust: “If you die, I can’t carry. So don’t.”

Greenling: “Aww. You do care.”

Dust: “Shut up and take the tower.”

They crushed the bot lane. By endgame, Dust and Greenling were a unit—roaming the map, catching picks, pinging each other without even talking. Their synergy was undeniable.

The victory screen hit again.

But this time, no one spoke right away. Just quiet, filled with post-game stats and flickering avatars. The laughter faded. The group call started thinning out.

Dabi: “I’m out. Good game, gremlins.”

SpinnyBoi: “Gonna go touch grass. Or like, watch anime.”

TogaTwist: “I’m making popcorn and writing GreenDust fanfic. Byeeeee!”

Click. Click. Offline. One by one, the icons grayed out.

Only two remained.

Dust. Greenling.

Izuku hovered over the “leave call” button. Didn’t click.

Dust: “You wanna… queue another? Just us?”

Izuku blinked.

Greenling: “Yeah. I’d like that.”

Silence. Then—

Dust: “Good. I’ve got builds to test. You’re my lab rat now.”

Greenling: “Glad to be of service.”

They loaded in again. This time slower, quieter. A duo queue.

Just them.

Somewhere between the clicks and cooldowns, the space between them started to feel less like pixels and more like… potential.

The loading screen spun again, slower now. Just their two names highlighted in the lobby, side by side.

No pressure. No Toga screaming in voice. No Spinner spam-pinging emotes. No Dabi threatening to uninstall.

Just the two of them. Just Dust. And him.

The match started. They picked bot lane again—same roles. No surprises. But everything felt different.

This time, Dust didn’t give commands right away.

Dust: “...You’re getting faster.”

Greenling: “Faster?”

Dust: “Your reaction time. I noticed.”

Izuku blinked, trying not to smile like a complete idiot. The praise felt casual—but it was Dust. That meant something.

Greenling: “Guess I’ve got a good teacher.”

Dust: “Obviously.”

Their laning was smooth—calculated, wordless. Dust pinged. Izuku moved. Izuku kited. Dust peeled. They danced around cooldowns like it was rehearsed.

It wasn’t.

But it felt like it.

A few minutes in, Izuku realized something: He wasn’t nervous this time. Not because the game was easier. Not because they were winning. But because Dust was here. Watching his flank. Shielding him. Trusting him.

When a teamfight broke out near mid, Dust didn’t hesitate.

Dust: “Greenling, follow my lead.”

Izuku did. Without question.

They flanked the enemy backline—executed a wombo combo that deleted two players in seconds. Chat exploded.

EnemyMid: “wtf was that bot duo”

EnemyJungle: “report greenling for having a support that loves him”

TogaTwist (from spectator): “I’M SCREENSHOTTING EVERYTHING”

Izuku flushed, again.

Greenling: “Why is she still watching our match??”

Dust: “Because she’s a menace. Focus.”

By the time they hit nexus, it wasn’t even close. A stomp. Total control. But Izuku didn’t really care about the win.

Not when Dust said this:

Dust: “GG. That was clean.”

Greenling: “It was.”

Dust: “Wanna run another?”

Izuku hesitated. Just a second.

Greenling: “...Sure. As long as you don’t mind carrying me again.”

Dust: “Tch. You carried me that game.”

That made Izuku pause completely.

Greenling: “You serious?”

Dust: “Mm. Don’t make it weird.”

Izuku smiled, but didn’t say anything right away.

The game lobby idled. Neither of them hit the ready button.

For a few seconds, the only sound was the soft hum of his fan and the faint static of the call. No pings, no chaos, no teasing teammates.

Just… quiet.

Greenling: “So. Builds to test, huh?”

Dust: “Yeah. Might try a new rune path next match. Something riskier.”

Greenling: “You? Risky? I thought you hated dying.”

Dust: “I do. That’s why you’re bait.”

Izuku laughed under his breath. Greenling: “Glad to know I’m essential.”

Dust: “You’re more predictable than Spinner and less likely to scream mid-fight than Toga. That’s all I need.”

Greenling: “So I’m… reliable?”

A pause.

Dust: “Yeah. That’s the word.”

Izuku stared at the screen for a moment. His face felt warm again, but he didn’t want to deflect this time. Not yet.

Greenling: “It’s weird, but… this is kinda the highlight of my day.”

Dust: “Same.”

The word dropped quietly. No sarcasm, no teasing. Just there.

Izuku’s fingers hovered over the keyboard.

He almost said something heavier—I look forward to this more than I should, you make it feel like I belong here, you make the silence not feel so loud—but stopped himself.

Instead:

Greenling: “You always play this late?”

Dust: “Not always. Depends who’s online.”

Greenling: “Would you… still play if I was the only one online?”

Another pause.

Dust: “Yeah. I’d queue for you.”

Izuku’s heart skipped. Like a glitch in his chest.

Dust cleared his throat on mic.

Dust: “Anyway. You ready, or do you need another minute to emotionally process me saying something nice?”

Izuku grinned.

Greenling: “Nope. Emotionally processed. Totally stable. Definitely not clipping this.”

Dust: “God. Toga’s rubbing off on you.”

Greenling: “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Dust: “Don’t.”

Izuku hovered over the ready button again.

Then—clicked.

Dust: “Alright. One more.”

Greenling: “Yeah. Let’s run it.”

The queue popped again.

This time, Izuku didn’t feel nervous. Or flustered. Or like he was the awkward one trying to catch up.

He just felt ready. For the game. For Dust. For whatever this thing was slowly becoming.

The match loaded in with a soft chime.

Same roles. Same lane. Same rhythm.

But something had shifted.

Not in the gameplay—they still landed every trade, every engage timed perfectly, like muscle memory. But in the silences. The easy breathing between pings. The casual way Dust’s voice didn’t just command—it checked in.

Dust: “Mana okay?”

Greenling: “Yeah. You?”

Dust: “I’m good. Watch that bush. Jungler’s probably pathing down.”

Greenling: “Got a ward ready.”

Dust: “Of course you do.”

He said it like a joke, but it felt like something else. Like trust.

The enemy bot lane was aggressive, trying to force fights early, but Dust played patiently. Shielded at the perfect moment. Interrupted a dive with a well-timed ult that turned what should’ve been a death into a double kill.

Greenling: “You’re cracked.”

Dust: “I know.”

Izuku was smiling again. He hadn’t stopped smiling, honestly. His cheeks were starting to hurt.

They pushed the lane. Took tower. Rotated mid. Took another fight.

The game unfolded around them like a well-rehearsed dance—and maybe that’s what it was now. Not just playing together, but moving together. Understanding each other without having to ask.

Izuku found himself glancing at the voice channel more than the minimap. Listening for Dust’s voice even when it wasn’t needed.

Halfway through the match, during a lull in pressure, Dust spoke up again—quieter this time.

Dust: “You always this focused?”

Greenling: “Only when I’m playing with you.”

A pause.

Dust: “...Is that a compliment?”

Greenling: “Do you want it to be?”

Another pause.

Then Dust chuckled—a real one. Not a sarcastic breath, not a scoff. Something real.

Dust: “It’s fine. I’ll allow it.”

Greenling: “Wow. Generous.”

Dust: “Don’t let it go to your head.”

The rest of the match passed in a kind of quiet sync—clean rotations, safe macro, crisp plays. When they won, it wasn’t even exciting. Just satisfying. Solid. Like of course they won.

Victory screen. Match stats. Back to lobby.

Dust: “That was clean.”

Greenling: “I think we’re officially a duo now.”

Dust: “Took you long enough to admit it.”

Izuku hesitated before saying anything else. His screen reflected the quiet lobby. Just the two of them again.

He leaned into his mic a little.

Greenling: “Hey… you free tomorrow?”

Dust: “Depends.”

Greenling: “On?”

Dust: “On whether you plan to feed first blood again.”

Greenling (laughing): “One time. That happened one time.”

Dust: “Mmhm.”

Greenling: “But seriously. You around?”

Dust didn’t answer right away. Then—

Dust: “Yeah. I’ll queue if you do.”

Izuku’s heart did that annoying little flutter again.

Greenling: “Cool. Then it’s a plan. Maybe we can try another games too”

Dust: “Just don’t expect me to be nice two games in a row.”

Greenling: “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

The queue screen blinked, waiting. But neither of them readied up again.

They stayed like that a little longer. Quiet lobby. Soft breathing. Cursor hovering over "Ready" but not clicking yet.

Neither of them really wanted to leave.

Izuku’s hands hovered near his keyboard, but he wasn’t really looking at the screen anymore. He was listening. To the low static in the call. To the soft clack of Dust’s keyboard when he typed something in another window. It was… comfortable.

Then:

Greenling: “Hey. Thanks for staying on tonight.”

Dust: “You say that like it was a favor.”

Greenling: “Still. You didn’t have to.”

Dust was quiet for a second. Then:

Dust: “No. But I wanted to.”

Izuku stared at those words, cheeks warm.

He said, slowly.

Greenling: “...This kinda makes things suck less, y’know?”

Dust: “Yeah.”

Another pause.

Dust: “You don’t suck to play with. That’s rare.”

Izuku laughed softly under his breath.

Greenling: “That's your version of a love letter?Im flattered”

Dust: “If I wanted to scare you off, I’d use more emojis.”

Greenling: “(つ≧▽≦)つ 💖💖”

Dust: “That’s it. Reported.”

Izuku laughed under his breath.

Just as Izuku was settling into the quiet—calm, warm, no-pressure quiet—his phone buzzed on the desk.

A notification from Toga.

TogaTwist:“SO. WHEN were you going to tell me you had a voice crush, huh?? 💖👀”

Izuku blinked. Then—

Greenling: “…Oh no.Toga..”

Dust: “What did she do?”

Izuku didn’t answer fast enough. Another message popped up.

TogaTwist: “The way you said ‘yeah, I’d like that’ just now?? DISGUSTINGLY soft. I had to physically pause my popcorn.”

He groaned.

Greenling: “She’s still listening. She’s still in the call, isn’t she?”

Dust: “Fuck...God help us.”

And then—another one.

TogaTwist:“Also Dust’s voice??? That little ‘yeah, I’d queue for you’ moment??? I GAGGED. You two sound like a drama podcast flirting through enemy lines. I’m invested.”

Izuku dropped his face into both hands.

Greenling: “She’s making this worse on purpose.”

Dust: “It’s Toga. Of course she is.What did she say?”

Another ping.

TogaTwist:“Tell your mysterious gamer situationship I said goodnight~ 😘🎧💘”

Izuku made a strangled sound.

Greenling: “I’m blocking her.”

Dust: “She’ll just show up in voice again. Like a ghost. With shipping charts.”

Greenling: “I’m never speaking again.”

Dust, calmly: “Please do. Your voice crush might get upset.”

Then it clicked. Toga literally sent Dust the screenshots of the texts…God. Why.

Izuku fell silent.

And then—unfortunately, softly—

Greenling: “Shut up.”

But he was smiling.

And somewhere on the other end of the call, Dust was too.

Chapter Text

Izuku woke up late.

Not in a disastrous, panic-sprint-to-class kind of way—just the kind of late that comes from a good night, the kind where your brain hums quieter for once. His room was still dark, blinds pulled halfway, the glow of his monitor still faint from where he’d forgotten to turn it off.

He stretched, checked his phone.

No screaming notifications from Toga yet. A miracle.

But what caught his eye was something simpler. Quieter.

Dust still hadn’t messaged.

He frowned at that—only for a second. Maybe they were busy. Maybe they didn’t stay up thinking about the queue, or the voice chat, or the “I’d queue for you” line that had absolutely not played on loop in Izuku’s head all night.

Still, he opened their chat.

And typed.

Greenling: “you alive? did toga break you with her late-night analysis or what”

Dust: “barely.she sent me a list

‘Top 10 Moments That Made Me Gag (In a Good Way)’

#2 was ‘the way he said ‘yeah’ like he meant it 😭💘’”

Greenling: “…i hate it here”

Dust: “i hate that she’s not wrong”

Greenling: “oh my god”

Dust: “you did sound soft as hell

like you were in a k drama”

Greenling: “okay first of all: RUDE

second of all: not denying it?”

Dust: “just saying- i see why she’s writing fanfic”

Greenling: “you’re enjoying this way too much“

Dust: “maybe. you’re fun to mess with

especially when your voice goes all… earnest”

Greenling: “literally what does that mean”

Dust: “you know what it means”

Dust: “but don’t worry. your secret softboy energy is safe with me. for now”

Greenling: “for now???”

Dust: “depends how you play tonight. might blackmail you with it later”

Greenling: “wow.and here i was thinking you liked having me around”

Dust: “i do.that doesn’t mean i won’t weaponize your feelings for comedic purposes”

Greenling: “touching”

Dust: “in a way”

The typing bubble blinked in the corner, then disappeared again.

Dust: “Not my fault your react like a kicked puppy anytime someone says something nice”

Greenling: “Thats not even true. also, dont call me that (╥﹏╥) “

Dust: “too late. already canon. Toga would back me up”

Greenling: “betrayal. from all sides. Not even safe in the server”

Dust: “to be fair you were never safe. not once. we smell softness like sharks smell blood”

Greenling: “You are so lucky i like you”

Dust: “is that a confession oooor?”

Izuku froze for a second. Did he really just say that.. God thats so embarrassing..But did he?

He stared at the screen, thumb hovering, unsure whether to laugh or throw his phone across the room.

Why did that feel like a test?

He could play it off. Say it was a joke. Tease back.

That’d be safer. Easier.

But something about the way Dust typed—dry, unbothered on the surface, but waiting, somehow—it made Izuku’s stomach twist.

                                      “is that a confession oooor?”

He reread it. Again. His fingers hovered.

Then typed.

Greenling: “maybe. depends who’s asking.”

There. Light enough to joke. Real enough to mean it.

He didn’t even know why he wrote it like that. Maybe he thought Dust wouldn’t take it seriously. Maybe he hoped he would. Either way, the second the message sent, Izuku wanted to bury his phone under his pillow and pretend he’d never touched it.

The typing bubble appeared.

Paused.

Flickered out.

Came back.

Dust: “someone with a solid KDA and questionable taste in teammates.”

Izuku exhaled—something between a laugh and a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

Okay. So it was still safe. Still a joke. The invisible wire between them didn’t snap—it just hummed quietly.

He sank back into his blankets, thumbs moving slower now.

Greenling: “wow. brutal. and here i thought i was your favorite liability.”

Dust: “you are. don’t let it go to your head.”

That made him smile. Stupidly.

Dust: “why are you up this late? or early?”

Izuku blinked at the time. 10:27 AM.

Greenling: ”technically i just woke up but also technically i haven’t moved so idk if i’ve really started the day yet”

Dust: “true. real day doesn’t start until you touch floor”

Greenling: “exactly. i’m in morning limbo. like a loading screen for my brain.”

Dust: “sounds peaceful. what’s your usual routine?”

That made Izuku pause.

He didn’t really have one. Not anymore.

Greenling: “uhh. when i’m being productive: coffee, toast, maybe go outside for ten minutes and pretend i’m mentally stable.

when i’m not being productive: discord, guilt, cold leftovers, no sunlight.”

There was a longer pause than usual before Dust replied.

Dust: “ngl. relatable.”

Izuku let his head tip to the side against his pillow. That felt… nice. Not too deep. Just human.

Dust: “i stay up too late and then wonder why mornings feel cursed.”

Greenling: ”because they are. mornings are just night’s hangover.”

He could almost hear Dust snort at that one.

Dust: ”damn. put that on a hoodie.”

Greenling: “i’m full of terrible merch ideas. it’s a gift.”

Dust: “next you’re gonna say ‘emotional damage’ is a brand.”

Greenling: “it kind of is.”

They drifted like that for a while—nothing heavy, just low-energy honesty. Dust asked what Izuku liked on his toast (peanut butter and banana, don’t judge), and Izuku learned that Dust apparently lived off instant noodles and sarcastic resolve.

Eventually, Izuku sat up, legs over the edge of his bed, phone still in hand.

He hadn’t planned to talk this long. Definitely hadn’t planned to feel this comfortable. But here they were.

The screen lit again.

Dust: “so what’s the move? actual breakfast? queue up? nap?”

Izuku considered it.

Greenling: “coffee first. then queue. i need caffeine before you start flaming me for bad clears.”

Dust: “you think i need caffeine to flame you?”

Greenling: “…fair.”

He smiled as he stood, bones popping, the start of a headache fading out under the weight of something better. Lighter.

Maybe this morning didn’t suck after all.

By the time Izuku sat down at his PC, their texting had slowed. When he opened the app, he found himself staring at the incoming call.

Dust: “Morning.”

Greenling: “You sound like you just crawled out of a grave.”

Dust: “Close. Slept for maybe four hours.”

Greenling: “Wow. Living the dream.”

Dust: “Nightmare, actually. Dream would’ve involved silence. And no Toga.”

Greenling: “She did send like twelve memes at 2 a.m.”

Dust: “That was her being merciful. She tried to invite me to a voice essay.”

Greenling: “A what”

Dust: “Exactly. I hung up after she used the phrase ‘emotional arc.’”

Small pause, both sipping coffee in real life—static buzz in the mics

Greenling: “You always log on this early?”

Dust: “No.”

Greenling: “…”

Dust: “Don’t make it weird.”

Greenling: “Wasn’t gonna say anything.”

Dust: “You’re thinking it.”

Greenling: “Maybe.”

Dust: “I usually don’t talk to people this much.”

Greenling: “Huh.”

Dust: “Not really my thing.”

Greenling: “So I’m the exception?”

Dust: “Not sure yet. You haven’t said anything that stupid this morning.”

Greenling: “Give it time. I haven’t finished my coffee.”

Dust: “Noted. I’ll prepare for the crash.”

A quiet stretch—both still at their desks, the faint sound of a keyboard tapping on Dust’s end

Greenling: “Why do you talk to me?”

Dust: “You don’t force it.”

Greenling: “Force what?”

Dust: “The whole… fake social thing. Performative friendliness.”

Greenling: “Oh. Yeah. I’m bad at that.”

Dust: “No, you’re just… not exhausting.”

Greenling: “High praise.”

Dust: “You say that like I don’t mean it.”

Greenling: “You’re just not what I expected.”

Dust: “What, you thought I was gonna be all edgy and insufferable?”

Greenling: “…I mean. Your username is Dust.”

Dust: “Okay. Fair.”

Dust chuckles under his breath. Izuku smiles but doesn’t comment.

Dust: “Figured you’d be more… tryhard.”

Greenling: “I am tryhard. Just quietly.”

Dust: “Secretly competitive.”

Greenling: “Like a raccoon in a hoodie.”

Dust: “That’s… alarmingly accurate.”

Greenling: “You’re welcome.”

A long pause again—comfortable silence, clicking mouse wheels, muted yawns

Greenling: “Do you ever hang out in voice chat with them? Like, outside of matches?”

Dust: “Not really.”

Greenling: “So this is… not normal for you.”

Dust: “Correct.”

Greenling: “Huh.”

Dust: “Don’t get weird about it.”

Greenling: “Not getting weird. Just… noticing.”

Dust: “Noted.”

Izuku opens his inventory screen. No one’s queued. They just sit there, talking quietly into their headsets.

Greenling: “I kind of like this.”

Dust: “What, sitting in voice chat doing nothing?”

Greenling: “Yeah. Feels like… less pressure.”

Dust: “Yeah.”

Dust: “Kinda the point.”

Greenling: “So… what music do you even listen to?”

Dust: “Why? Gonna judge me?”

Greenling: “Absolutely.”

Dust: “Fine. Depends. Game days? Loud stuff. Angry guitar.”

Greenling: “Figures.”

Dust: “And you?”

Greenling: “Depends, I listen to a lot of stuff”

Dust: “…Of course you do.”

Greenling: “What’s that supposed to mean??”

Dust: “You’ve got ‘main character wakes up late to his theme song’ energy.”

Greenling: “RUDE.”

Dust: “You said it yourself, you woke up at noon.”

Izuku laughs softly, dragging his cursor in circles on the menu screen.

Greenling: “Alright then. What’s your morning song?”

Dust: “Nothing. Silence. Maybe rain sounds.”

Greenling: “Seriously?”

Dust: “Mornings are for surviving. Music comes later.”

Greenling: “That’s bleak.”

Dust: “That’s honesty.”

Greenling: “I’m adding that to your villain arc.”

Pause. the quiet kind that makes the headphones feel warmer than they should.

Dust: “What’s your room look like?”

Greenling: “What?”

Dust: “Just wondering. You sound like someone with too many posters.”

Greenling: “I only have… like… five.”

Dust: “Five??”

Greenling: “Okay six. And a couple figures.”

Dust: “Do they judge you when you lose in solo queue?”

Greenling: “They inspire me, actually.”

Dust: “Sure they do.”

There’s a faint click as Dust adjusts his mic.

Dust: “Mine’s boring. Desk. Chair. Monitor. One hoodie on the floor.”

Greenling: “Just one? You’re doing better than me.”

Dust: “Yeah well, you’re the type who organizes snacks by mood.”

Greenling: “…I don’t, but now I’m thinking about it.”

Dust: “I knew it.”

Small pause. mouse clicks. neither one queues up.

Greenling: “Hey. Thanks for just… being here.”

Dust: “Same.”

Greenling: “You don’t talk like this with the others, huh?”

Dust: “Not really.”

Greenling: “So why me?”

Dust: “…You don’t ask for more than I’ve got.”

Greenling: “Oh.”

Dust: “Most people want too much. Too fast.”

Greenling: “I get that.”

Dust: “Figured you might.”

The silence this time isn’t heavy. it’s kind. like the pause between notes in a song.

Greenling: “Wanna just stay like this a bit?”

Dust: “Yeah.”

Greenling: “Cool.”

Dust: “Let me know when you’re ready to queue.”

Greenling: “Not yet.”

Dust: “Me neither.”

The moment is quiet. Both still online, both not queueing.

Just… there.

Greenling:"I haven’t just sat in voice like this in forever. it’s kinda nice.”

Dust: "yeah. not the worst."

Greenling: “not the worst?? wow. glowing review.”

Dust: “shut up. you know what i mean.”

Suddenly—ping. A new person joins the voice chat.

Togatwist: ”awwwwwwwwwwww”

Greenling: “oh no.”

Dust: "I'm leaving.”

Togatwist: “DO 👏 NOT 👏 DARE. i heard that soft tone, Dust. i heard it.”

Greenling: ”how long were you lurking??”

Togatwist: ”long enough to catch “not the worst” and some suspiciously cozy silence”

Dust: ”i’m logging off.”

Togatwist: “YOU WILL DO NO SUCH THING. this is HISTORY. this is fanfic material”

Greenling: “Oh my god.”

Dust: “she’s actually the worst.”

Togatwist: “and yet, you were talking to greenling all sweet and casual. y’all sounded like a lo-fi study couple.”

Greenling: “don’t say that.”

Dust: “she said that.”

Togatwist: “admit it, Dust. you’re soft for him.”

Dust: ”i’ll admit i’m regretting not muting you.”

Togatwist: “mhmmmmm. deflection noted.”

Greenling: “can we not make this a whole thing?”

Togatwist: “too late. i’m writing a fic called “Queue Me Gently.” chapter one: the moment their voices synced in sleepy harmony”

Dust: “i hate everything.”

Greenling: “…okay, that title kinda slaps.”

Dust: “don’t encourage her.”

Togatwist: “oh i don’t need encouragement. i live off vibes and chaos.”

Izuku tries to mute his mic to hide the laugh. Dust sighs audibly.

Dust: “ten minutes. we queue in ten. no more talking.”

Togatwist: “TOO LATE, i’ve already summoned Spinner.”

Greenling: “no—”

New ping: SpinnyBoi has joined the chat.

Spinnyboi: “what’s all this? did Dust get feelings again??”

Dust: ”AGAIN???”

Spinnyboi: “it’s okay man, we all simp sometimes.”

Greenling: “i want to log off the internet forever.”

Togatwist: “we’re not teasing. we’re celebrating.”

Dust: ”you are absolutely teasing.”

Togatwist: “because you’re so cute when flustered~”

Dust: “that’s it. muting.”

Greenling: “we could’ve just played a game like normal people.”

Spinnyboi: “Too late. you fell in love over a jungle leash.”

Greenling: ” …”

Dust: ”i’m ending this call.”

SpinnyBoi is still cackling. Toga is narrating their “rom-com arc.” Dust is visibly done.

Dust: “muting.”

Togatwist: “you won’t. you’re too curious.”

Greenling: ”i think my soul just left my body.”

Spinnyboi: “you died the moment you said “this is nice” in that voice.”

Another ping. Dabi joins the voice chat.

Dabi: “…why does it sound like someone’s confessing in here?”

Greenling: “please don’t start.”

Dust: “you’re late. go away.”

Dabi: “nah, now i have to stay. i walk in and i get “cozy sighs” and Toga squealing like she found a new ship to sail.”

Togatwist: “oh it’s already sailing. canon by chapter ten.”

Spinnyboi: “chapter ten? bro they’re already at “sharing playlists.” that’s like chapter six minimum.”

Dabi: “hold on—Dust is sharing playlists?”

Dust: “no one said that.”

Greenling: “we were just talking. literally just talking.”

Dabi: “the last time Dust “just talked” to me he threatened to uninstall me.”

Dust: “i still might.”

Dabi: “but now he’s in here sounding like he’s about to write poetry.”

Togatwist: “OH MY GOD DUST POETRY. hold on, i need to open a doc.”

Dust: “you people are feral.”

Spinnyboi: “and yet you keep logging in.”

Greenling: “This is fine. i’m fine. everything is fire.”

Dabi: “don’t worry Greenling. it’s the initiation. if Dust lets you live past minute 5 without roasting your skill level, you’re basically married.”

Dust: “i can and will mute you.”

Dabi: “aw. soft threats from a soft boy.”

Togatwist: “everyone shut up, i’m trying to write “a sonnet of queue-based yearning.” ”

Dust: “i am muting all of you.”

Greenling: “i think i’m crying.”

Spinnyboi: “same. this is better than TV.”

There’s a pause. Like someone’s leaning back, covering their face. Probably Dust.

Dust: “ten minutes. then queue.”

Dabi: “ten minutes of what? you gazing lovingly at Greenling’s loading screen again?”

Greenling: “DABI.”

Togatwist: “no no let it happen”

Spinnyboi: “let it breathe”

Dust exhales slowly. Very slowly.

Dust: “…remind me why I talk to any of you.”

Greenling: “…because deep down, you like us.”

Dust: “no.”

Togatwist: “YES.”

Dabi: “especially one of us in particular~”

Dust: “muting. for real this time.”

Spinnyboi: “can’t mute your heart, bro.”

Greenling: “oh my god.”

The chaos continues in the main VC—Toga laughing, Spinner making bad poetry rhymes, Dabi claiming he’s “the real heartthrob of the server.”

Then—ping. Dust disappears from the channel.

Greenling: “has left the voice channel.”

[New channel: #quiet-queue (2)]

Dust: ”…they’re exhausting.”

Greenling: ”like… i love them, but also? crimes.”

Dust: “crimes. actual emotional terrorism.”

Greenling: “Toga had a whole doc open. i heard her.”

Dust: “she’s probably already written our vows.”

Greenling: “gross.also kind of impressive.”

There’s a brief pause. Just keyboard clacks, the quiet hum of both being logged in but not rushing to play. The tone shifts—calmer. Less noise, more air between their words.

Dust: “…you good? after all that?”

Greenling: “yeah.a bit embarrassed..Are you?”

Dust: “same.they’re too loud”

They’re still in the private VC. Game not launched. Just the quiet hum of their PCs and the occasional click of a mouse. No pressure. Just… existing together.

Greenling: “so uh… random but what kind of snacks do you eat when you game?”

Dust: “…is this some subtle matchmaking quiz?”

Greenling: “nooo…maybe- shut up just answer”

Dust: “chips. the kind that wreck your fingers.regret with every bite. do it again next queue.”

Greenling: “so you’re a gremlin. got it.”

Dust: “you asked.”

Greenling: “true- I usually go with gummies.silent, fast, tactical.”

Dust: “nerd snacks.”

Greenling: “guilty..no crunch = no audio betrayals.i take my queues seriously.”

Dust: “okay. respect.”

There’s a pause, the kind where neither of them rushes to fill it immediately. It feels easy.

Greenling: “okay real question- what’s your top comfort game?”

Dust: “hmm you mean like- nostalgia or still play it?”

Greenling: “either. whatever comes to mind first”

Dust: “…hollow knight

quiet. hard. pretty.feels like something i’d get lost in on purpose”

Greenling: “that tracks- moody, mysterious bug game for the moody mysterious guy”

Dust: “shut up.you asked”

Greenling: “i like it.you give off that vibe- brooding side character energy”

Dust: “that’s rich coming from “softboy jungler with a tragic backstory” ”

Greenling: “EXCUSE YOU”

Dust: “You’re not denying it tho”

Greenling: “whatever. my comfort game’s probably…ugh, don’t judge..- stardew valley”

Dust: ”oh my god”

Greenling: “i said don’t judge!!”

Dust: “i’m not judging. just picturing you obsessively organizing virtual vegetables”

Greenling: “first of all, yes

second of all, it’s about peace and routine and escaping capitalism okay”

Dust: “wow so valid. go off, little farmer”

Greenling: “you say that but i bet you’d lose yourself fishing for hours”

Dust: “…i did. once.not proud”

Greenling: “see?? it gets you”

Dust: “it’s dangerous- too cozy.like a trap”

Greenling: “a warm, pixelated trap”

There’s a soft pause. A slight sound from Dust’s mic — like he’s smiling, but not saying it.

Dust: “we should co-op sometime”

Greenling: “For real?”

Dust: “yeah. i’ll water your crops if you stop dying to wolves in lane”

Greenling: “deal.you better plant flowers though. aesthetic matters”

Dust: “you’re insane”

Greenling: “and you’re enabling it”