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cw: crack, fluff, insecure bakugou. izuku and shoto have unnamed female partners.

“Are you good?”

Izuku doesn’t hear him the first time, and Katsuki makes a grunt of frustration before raising his voice again to repeat the question.

“What the hell is going on with you, Deku?”

Izuku startles slightly at the question as he zips his duffel bag closed then turns to his friend/coworker. His left arm is still bent with his hand rubbing his flank, just as he has periodically for the past hour. 

“Yeah?”

“Why are you acting like you have the spine of an eighty-year-old?” Katsuki inquires, closing his own locker. Izuku gives him a look of confusion initially, then his eyebrows raise as he connects the dots.

“Oh, yeah my back hurts a bit. The couch we have isn’t that comfortable.”

“Couch?”

Shoto looks up, still hunched over tying his shoelaces, also curious. Izuku notices his sudden interest and laughs, scratching the back of his head.

“Well, uh… ___ had a dream that I was cheating and-”

Bakugou grimaces and cuts in. “So you slept on the couch?”

Izuku’s embarrassed laughter worsens. “Well it’s easier to just do that than to explain to her that she doesn’t have premonition…”

Katsuki sighs and rolls his eyes, not intending to inquire further about his friend’s girlfriend’s insane behavior, but Shoto suddenly snorts as he stands up. Surprised, the other two glance at him. 

“And why are you laughing?” Katsuki is the first to ask. 

Shoto slings his far-too-expensive gym bag over his shoulder, smiling. 

“Because for once I actually get this sentiment.”

Katsuki raises his eyebrows. “What do you mean you get it?”

As Shoto leads the way out of the agency locker room, Shoto explains that the last time he slept on the couch had a similar tone - 

“Apparently there’s a wrong way to answer ‘would you love me if i were a worm’?”

Izuku frowns.

“Yeah, you should have dodged that..”

“I mean, she did curl up next to me afterwards to sleep so it was okay… eventually… after a lot of tears.”

Shoto and Izuku laugh while Katsuki follows along, suddenly realizing he’s the only one who might be left out of the experience of having an insane partner. The elevator down to the garage opens, and the three step out with Katsuki still lost in thought. 

“Wait, they both act like this?” he asks. 

Izuku and Shoto exchange a look then shrug.

“I guess love makes you a little ridiculous,” Izuku offers. Shoto grins in agreement and suddenly Katsuki has the sudden feeling that he’s losing.

—

When Katsuki shows up to your apartment an hour, you can practically feel the tension in the air, emanating from the deep frown on his face.

You raise an eyebrow at him as he makes eye contact with you, wondering what the problem is this time. It’s not that he’s never been prickly coming home, but usually he softens when you greet him; this time however, you welcome him home and he gives you a less than enthusiastic response before dropping off his keys on the counter and running to the bathroom.

You give him 2 minutes to do his business and flush, then when he comes out decide to deal with his pouting gently.

“What’s the problem, baby?” There’s a tiny bit of playfulness in the way you reach for his cheeks and pat them, and he leans into your touch, even if he’s grumpy. Placing his hands on yours, he asks, completely seriously, 

“Don’t you have something silly to ask me?”

Your hands drop from his face slowly and you tilt your head to the side, slow-blinking. 

“What?”

He takes your hands and replaces them back on his cheeks, an action that almost brings you to laughter but you opt instead to remain serious.

“Don’t you wanna ask me if I’d marry you in every lifetime or something?”

You watch him stunned then laugh.

“What is this about?” 

He pouts.

“Do you even get jealous over me?”

The two of you watch each other in silence as you take this in, and then you burst into laughter for real, unable to hold it in.

“Katsuki-” you start between giggles, “- what’s this about?”

“You’re not crazy enough about me,” he finally admits, then his hands lower for his arms to wrap around your waist, pressing you flush to him.

You give him a sly look.

“So you’re giving me permission to be crazy?” you ask. A finger is pressed to his chest and you draw circles on it. As you look up at him furtively, your teeth now biting your lower lip in mischief, he wonders if he’s making a mistake. 

And yet he takes your fingers in his hands and kisses them.

“Yes.”

You giggle and pull back, putting your hands on your hips.

“Have you considered that you might be the crazy one?” you tease.

And that goes over fine at the moment when he hugs you and kisses you and decides to move on to dinner, but it’s an idea that suddenly plagues him in the middle of the night. 

Don’t say it, don’t say it, don’t say it…

He turns over to you in bed and nudges you. Your eyes creak open and he looks positively distressed, as he asks:

“Would you still love me if I were a worm?”

You opened Doe's kiln, right?

steve: how do you feel about children?

eddie: uh, they’re okay, I guess. I mean, if I saw one on the street I wouldn’t throw a rock at them. 

steve: why would you throw a rock at a child. 

eddie: I just said I wouldn’t.

ONE OF THE BOYS

-> While you pine hopelessly over your best friend, Eddie Munson. You hear the sentiment 'one of the boys' one too many times and you've decided to change that. All in the name of the one boy who won't even look at you, or so you think.

-> eddie munson x you (she/her)

-> friends to suggested lovers, slow burn, angst

-> warnings - strong language and suggestive themes [no smut]

-> a/n I'm in the process of writing a slow burn fic that follows a similar plot, should I combine this and the fic?

-> <-

Your heart sinks into the deepest pits of your chest. The tiny inconspicuous hole where no one would ever look. Your spirit lies under the earth, while Eddie lies bricks instead of dirt across your corpse. A quite violent death you have taken on.

“Are you still with us?” Gareth waves a hand in front of your face. Grease slips between his fingers from his two day old burger that your school pretends was freshly slapped on a grill that morning.

You squirm. “Sorry, what was that?”

“Eddie says you could come to practice,” he throws his hand up. “You’re one of the boys!”

Right.

Like someone had thrown water across your face, you slide theatrically to the floor in a puddle of you. Theatrically speaking - of course.

The lunchroom chatter dies in the back of your head like you just did a moment ago. You excuse yourself from the group, while claiming that you have forgotten your exam in the next class period and you should really put in at least a few moments of study time.

Your few moments are actually spent stowing yourself away in the ladies room.

“Oh my God, I can’t believe he asked you out!” A girl squeals. “What are you going to wear? Tell me everything!”

You had stopped your self doubting and your eternally ill fading romantic imaginations you came up with while you stare at the dull gaze in your eye behind the dirty spotted bathroom mirror. You should focus on your studies anyway. Failing your senior year of high school, again, was not on your list of to-do's.

Then again, the two girls gossiping were very pretty. You took notes. Hair full and down to her chest in length. The kind of hair Texas wishes they had. Cheeks were plump, and dusted pink with some powder of sorts. Full lips covered in sweet strawberry gloss. You can smell their gloss from just a sink away. That, or perhaps that was their perfume. Sweet and feminine.

“I'm sorry,” one of them notices you staring, while she applies a thick coat of her lip-gloss. 'Strawberry Dream' is what the little label on the tube reads. “Are we being loud?”

“No, no,” you shake your head.

“Okay,” she sings awkwardly, before continuing the conversation her friend had started. “Anyway, Josie, I think we should go shopping for a new outfit. Oh! I - so - need a new gloss. Something sexy!”

“Sexy?” You accidentally slip the words, before you could stop yourself.

The girl cocks her head. “Do you usually eavesdrop?”

Not that they weren’t talking in front of her.

“My bad,” you tug at the ends of your t-shirt. “Erm- you’re trying to impress this boy?”

“Yes,” she says simply. “Do you have some sort of advice?”

Looking you up and down, she spots the stains from your lunch at your chest. Trying not to snort and jeer at your expense, she waits for you to respond. Her cocky tight lipped smile says enough.

“Actually,” you reply. “I- Why don’t you try being yourself? He clearly likes you to ask you out, so maybe you could tone it down?”

“Tone it down?” She frowns. “Like you? Tell me er- girl of some sort- how many dates have you gotten with that fresh out of bed look you wear every single day. You look like a shy boy. Yeah, I see you around. You’re small like a shrimp. You need to be shark in these waters or your going to get your head bitten off. Put on a bra. A low cut top. And, maybe some blush to hide that dead corpse face you wear-,”

“It’s my skin-,”

“When you get a date, then you get an opinion. Got it?”

“Got it,” you zip your lips. What a bitch.

-> <-

Practice, as the group of men slamming poorly synchronized chords together, is held at Gareth’s garage promptly after school. You did not participate in the noise, but rather you sit in a lawn chair onlooking. Fanning yourself with your hands, sweat glistens across your skin like armor.

Your friends finish their set. Eyes on you, you cheer for their noise that will surely draw eyes from the neighborhood. Someone will be by soon to tell the boys to quiet their racket, and to perhaps indulge themselves in a new activity like reading a book. The Book, perhaps.

“You’re getting better,” you propose promisingly.

Eddie nudges your shoulder with a fist on his way to the cooler to grab a cold soda. You pretend like your heart didn’t just stop inside of your chest.

“I told you, guys,” Eddie has been raving to his band mates (and occasional D&D players) that you, his B.F.F., wasn’t going to ruin practice. That just because you might have a new rack and hips hidden underneath this t-shirt wasn’t going to change any dynamic within the group.

They all agreed about this while staring at your ever growing chest and hips. You cover your chest again, before speaking out of turn.

“Are you ever going to preform these songs?” You ask the group.

Eddie’s plush lips touch the bottle his soda came in. Condensation from the glass dripped across his chin and down his neck to the exposed flesh of his chest.

And, they were so worried about you “developing.” Here you are, eyeballing your best friend like you haven’t ever seen him before. Suddenly, you woke up one morning and you were obsessed with him!

It isn’t like that at all. You didn’t know when you began having feelings for your best friend. Somewhere between living next to each other in the trailer park. Sneaking out after your curfew to slash in Lovers Lake (Eddie’s favorite way to wash off his worries). And, the times you tripped over your own clumsiness when Eddie was the first to rescue you. You might have just fallen into his eyes you stared at them so long. Maybe- maybe that’s when something changed.

No more boys and girls - there were men and women. High school changes us - all of us. There’s science behind it all, you suppose. You took health courses, but no scientific explanation could bring you to figure out how you were completely enamored by your best friend.

Your best friend, who is sweating underneath the heat of the garage. Finding himself without options, he strips his shirt.

“Hold this for me,” he says like there’s no issue. Because there was no issue for him, you’re alone in your feelings. Classic.

“Sure,” you fold his shirt up in your lap, while resisting the urge to inhale his scent like a trained dog trying to find a missing person. Or, like an addict getting their fix for the first time in days.

“And, yes,” Eddie announces, before slamming down a new chord. “Come watch us at the Hideout!”

“Really?!”

“Sure,” Gareth speaks for his friend. “If you want.”

“I’ll come,” you ask, “What time?”

“We’ll start setting up around six in the evening, but we’re not set to play until seven,” Eddie explains to you. “Friday.”

You nod. “I’ll be there!”

“Oh, Eddie!” Gareth grabs his attention. “You gonna bring Roxie?”

Roxie Martin? Now, she’s a hot pair of tits in a mini skirt. Full scarlet lips, Rockin’ Roxie, as some people called her, was a She Devil in human skin. Sinking her teeth into her pray, she poisons them with feminine venom. She doesn’t even have to sing them a tune, for men will follow her into the depths of the vast blue ocean without question.

Some just thought she was a slut in heels, though.

Whatever story floats.

Eddie strums a sour note.

“Dude, I’m just teasing,” his friend snickers.

Eddie scolds his friend, then the group of boys begin to slam on their instruments some more.

You sat there for hours watching Eddie slobber over his guitar. Sweat glistened down across his skin. His fingers striking each chord by heart as he did every night. Touching the strings expertly with the tips of his cherry red fingers. He begun feeling sore towards the end of the night, and the guys agree that it would probably be a good opportunity to turn in for the night.

Practice would resume tomorrow.

And you were forever and eternally frustrated.

-> <-

“Robin,” you slouched over the clear candy bowl labeled ‘Free.’ “I need to be a girl.”

Robin jabs away at the keypad of the store computer that is clearly frozen. While she might be renting out videos to people, Robin’s shit with technology.

That gave her more time to ignore her responsibilities, however, and acknowledges to your moping. With an arched brow, she sucks in her lips and she lets them go with a loud pop.

“You are a girl,” she states the obvious, while appearing to look down at your chest. “Or- so I think.”

“That’s not what I meant,” you stuff more candy into your mouth like a starved squirrel just coming out from hibernation. Squirrels hibernate, don’t they? Whatever.

“What ever could you possibly mean?” She props herself up onto her elbows.

There was a time when you were a child that a mean boy kicked dirt on you at the playground. Swooping in like your knight in shining armor, Eddie came to you to brush the dirt from your clothes and to wipe the tears from your cheeks. Feeling outcasted, Eddie surrounded himself in the weaker kids. The kids that enjoy recess sitting on the brick wall of their school, or close by the door to wait for your teachers to let you back inside.

You read books with him during quiet reading because he didn’t know how to keep the letters from mixing together. Eddie would apologize for his hair being frizzy, and all over the place. You thought he was funny looking like that.

Sometimes you wish you could go back to the good old days where your heart didn’t sing in your chest whenever your childhood best friend was near. You wish the aching in your bones would sooth itself instead of feeling fuzzy every time Eddie greeted you at a whisper from behind. That his strong hand touching you like a doll would become friendly again, and less like you want to shove him against the lockers to kiss his pretty face.

You knew better.

Yet, here you are.

Say it had something to do with what happened yesterday. Roxie’s sexy. You want her sexy. Not her. But, just the sexy. And, whoever was in the bathroom was right. You’re much more than a baggy t-shirt and a pair of denim on your legs. You grew up during the summer, and so what if you want to show off a bit. You earned your assets.

“I can’t tell you,” you put out there for Robin to read. “You’ll blab to Steve, and Steve will tell- doesn’t matter.”

You wait for her to speak, but Robin never does. She blinks at you.

“There’s this boy-,”

“A boy?!” Her voice echoes against the furthest most walls.

You wave your hands. “Robin!”

“Go on!”

“I just - I want to grow up a little.”

The jangle of the front door opening broke their conversation apart. There was nothing elegant about Eddie Munson. He slammed his jacket into the stand of desperately rentable DVD’s. The display wobbled. Swiveled. And, slammed into the floor. The DVD’s splattered.

“Dude!” Robin huffs. “I just put those up!”

Eddie scrambles to rescue the mess. “My bad, Robs. You know? You might not want to put these right in front of the walkway. ‘Could get knocked over - see?”

Robin knew Eddie from class. Smart mouth guy with a lot to say about literature. He held a lot in his head, but once he got to a piece of paper, he could just go.

“The usual, Eddie?”

Oh, and he also rented out the same DVD one a week for the past three weeks. It was a Rated R film that had a single one minute scene of a nude woman on top of a man she was suffocating. Not with her boobs- with his belt.

Robin snaps back into reality.

“Eh, looking for something new,” he fixed the display, before joining the girls at the register. “Suggestions?”

Robin slams her palm against the monitor. “Stupid thing is still frozen. Oh! Did you hear your little pal has a crush on a boy?”

“Robin!” You cringe. Turning into the wallpaper sounds really nice right about now. Hell, she’ll fix that computer if it gets Robin off the topic of her.

Anyone, she can blab to anyone, but Eddie. Where was Steve when you needed him? Oh, you are so screwed!

“What? It’s just Eddie!”

Just Eddie - yeah, Robin, that’s the problem.

“A crush? On who?” Eddie scoffs out loud.

Your jaw goes agape. “Are you saying I can’t have a crush on someone?”

“No, I just- you’re one of the guys!”

“She can’t be one of the guys forever,” Robin defends you. Perhaps she saw you twitch. “She’s a girl underneath those stains.”

You brush your dirty t-shirt.

“Robin-,”

“What? Whoever this boy is, he’s shit out of luck if he doesn’t see what we all see,” your friend continues.

Eddie teeters his balance back and forth on each foot.

“I’m going to go look for a movie,” he says.

Robin ignores him shuffling into the isles. “I’m just saying if he doesn’t like you back that is his loss. Right?”

You peak around for any sight of Eddie. His frizzy mane is locked onto a movie in the farthest isle.

“Oh my god,” Robin follows your gaze. “Oh my god! This is big- no, huge- I can’t believe before my eyes your friends to lovers trope-,”

“Robin! Hush!” You whisper at a much louder volume than you anticipate.

Yet, here comes Eddie back to the counter without a film in hand. Robin shoots you a glance that screams that she’s about to burst like a toddler who has to pee, but they can’t get their overalls off.

“Can’t find anything?” Robin intertwined her fingers in front of her.

“Maybe tomorrow,” Eddie sighs.

The sound that came from Robin’s lips could have been the earth splitting in two, and trying to suck her in or the angels above calling her back to heaven. She’s a bit eccentric.

Oh, God, you think she’s plotting.

“Actually,” she settles. “I have a film back here that we haven’t set out on shelves yet.”

“Is it a romance?” He guesses purely based on the actors gazing longingly on the front cover. “Robin, I don’t do romance.”

“Obviously,” she says as a matter-of-fact. “Anyway, this is a mystery. Hm? You know? Like clues and shit.”

“Clues and shit?”

“Maybe,” you signal ‘no’ to Robin, but she blatantly ignores you, “you two can watch it together. Hm? Solve the mystery, before the show ends? Let me know what you think!”

“Robin-,” Eddie begins, but Robin is already scanning the DVD to rent out.

“It’ll be fun!”

You pinch the bridge of your nose.

“I’ll see you around six for a movie night like old times?”

You mask your embarrassment. Nodding in a set agreement, Eddie left with the film still eyeing the cover like it had just insulted him.

“How could you do that?” You shame her.

Robin shrugs her shoulders, while dancing behind the counter like a relationship fairy.

“Oh! You’ll need something to wear by then!” She shouts to her coworker. “Steve! I’m not feeling well! Will you be okay for the rest of the day?!”

“Ah ha,” Steve appears like he’s been waiting for permission to enter the conversation. “You’re not leaving me here by myself!”

“What was that? I can’t hear you,” she points to her ear, as she’s setting her jacket over her shoulders. “Ear ache.”

“Robin!”

“Huh? Oh, thank you!” She shuffles herself and you out the front door.

Warm air meets you outside. Although you wished to take off another layer, you felt practically naked as is. Cotton blend shirts were thick in these spring days. The same could be said for your denim jeans.

“Won’t he be mad?” You ask.

Robin snorts. “Steve? No.”

No explanation given - no explanation necessary. Robin and Steve were like a pair of siblings at most times. Although, knowing Steve had a thing for Robin at some point made the analogy much creepier than it should have been.

You drive yourself and Robin back to your home where your family was not. They’re out of town for the whole week doing an anniversary trip. Figuring your of the age to take care of yourself, they’ve left you by yourself with only the responsibility of keeping the home clean.

“What are we looking for?” You sit on your made bed hugging one of your pillows to your chest, while Robin riffles through your closet.

Robin shoves another dress across the hanger to the disapproved pile. Her grunts and sighs are discouraging as is, but rather her blatant disregard that you like some of those clothes is hurting even more. Or, maybe you like those clothes. You haven’t gone shopping in a while.

“Do you own anything that isn’t from Forever 40?” She jokes heartily.

You tilt your head to one side. “I like my clothes.”

“Well, we don’t have time for shopping,” she scans around your room for something. Jostling your clean laundry, your papers across your desk and the drawers under them - she finally lets out an, “Ah, ha!”

You groan. “Are you going to clean your mess?”

Clearly ignoring you, Robin holds up a sharpened pair of scissors like a magic wand. Holding one of your plain shirts in the air, she begins slicing away at every angle.

“Hey!” You protest.

She pauses. “Right, put it on.”

“Rob, that’s my favorite shirt!”

“I’ll buy you another one,” she shoves your head through the hole, and continues sniping at the edges. Fondling your chest, she measures where the top of your breast lies. “Hey! Your the first woman to let me touch their boobs. Congrats!”

You laugh at this. “Robin, as your friend, you can touch my boobs any time you need a fix.”

“Don’t tease me with a good time,” she jokes back. With one more snip, she steps away from you. “You have any skirts? No, of course you don’t. Jeans will have to do.”

You couldn’t hear Robin’s tangent. In the standing mirror hung on your wall, you saw someone new. Surely, she moved when you moved. Her chest bounced while she breathes. That tan from the summer on the beach was touching her skin in a most devilish manor. You held your chin a bit higher seeing what a few snips from craft scissor will do.

“Makeup!” Robin insists.

Pink rouge presses into your cheekbones. Those cheekbones you earned from your grandmother. That’s always the compliment your mother spoke. And, mascara coated thickly across your eyelashes. Your lashes are rather short, but with that black mascara you were seeing yourself glow with confidence.

Lip gloss that tasted like honey-

“In case you’re kissing any boys tonight,” she clicks the tube together with the wand. “My dear, you’re ready.”

You take a spin in the mirror.

“I hardly recognize myself,” you touch your hair.

Robin slaps your hand away. “Don’t mess that up, before Eddie gets here. Oh! And, look at the time, I should go.”

You’re left by yourself for another hour. Twiddling your thumbs, and checking your makeup by the minute. Eventually, you pop popcorn in the microwave and place the bowl in the center of the coffee table in the living room. You twist the bowl around, so you can’t see the chip on the side from when you dropped the bowl a few years ago.

Tapping your foot against the plush carpet beneath your feet, you travel between worlds of being ridiculous for dressing up like this, and feeling like a hot new you. If Eddie likes you, you should be yourself. Or, maybe this was you and you’re discovering yourself! Yeah, yeah!

Oh, you should just replace the jeans with pajamas. Who wears jeans in the house?

You have no time to change your mind because the doorbell rings through the quiet house. Stillness - as if moving would threaten your life somehow. Then, again, the doorbell sings.

You drag the sweat from your hands onto the back of your jeans. Jeans that you should have changed to shorts. He’ll see right through your ruse!

One more look in the hallway mirror, and your fingers touch the front door. Breathing slower, you swing the door open to reveal Eddie leaning himself against the brick of your home.

“What? Your shirt go through a lawnmower?” Was the first thing he says.

You knew it.

“Erm-,”

“I brought the movie, and beer,” he held up the movie and a six pack he snaked off of his uncle. “Come on, I’m freezing out here.”

You lock the door behind Eddie, as he makes his way through your home. He’s been here so many times before, birthdays, holidays and any time your mother has just come back from the supermarket with “the good snacks.”

You knew each other for some time, which is probably why he’s never going to see you as someone other than his best friend. Why would you think about that? You had a shot, right?

“I popped popcorn,” you pointed in the living room.

“Sick,” he drops down into your couch. “We can go ahead and start the movie - the guys will be here soon.”

“The guys?” You blurt.

“Well, yeah,” Eddie says. “Like old times?”

“Right,” the light in your eye fades, and you just hope Eddie can’t sense the hesitance in your tone.

In the next hour, your quiet date night that had been set up by your overly optimistic friend, swirls in the direction that it is always meant to be. You squish into the couch arm rest, while Gareth battles Eddie over the movie choice. Although, this time the boys came to an agreement that this was not an action movie like Robin promised Eddie earlier.

“Where’s the gore?!” Gareth flings popcorn at the television screen. “Throw her off the ledge!”

“You want to see an innocent woman flung to her death?” You snap at him.

A piece of popcorn drops from Gareth’s mouth, and into his awaiting lap. You didn’t come to raising your tone with the boys unless something truly bothers you. Clearly, by the tightness in your chest, some of the anger spills over the edge. Quite like the woman dangling the man’s waist.

“Never mind,” you stand. “I’m going to make more popcorn.”

Taking the bowl from Eddie, you hide away in the comfort of your neat kitchen. Before your mother left for her trip, a folded note stacked on the island told you to not bring anyone over. But, if you are going to have boys over, she asks that you use protection. Oh, she has a wild imagination if she thinks her daughter has a sex life.

She must have passed this onto you. You toss yourself at someone, who obviously holds no similar feelings as you do. This whole night was a bust. Your eyes itch from the mascara. Your lips bled from when you chewed on them like they’re your last meal. At least the color matches with your lip gloss that you reapplied many times in the bathroom when you need a break from the crowd in your living room. And, you can’t feel your waist anymore. Tingling below the belt - and for all the wrong reasons.

“You okay?” Gareth’s voice startles you.

You spin around, and he’s there standing in the doorway of your kitchen. The door swings back, and pushes him forward. A yell from the living room suggests something mortifying must have happened in the film like the boy finally kissing the girl, or perhaps saying something romantic.

“Yeah,” you blink. “Just- making more popcorn.”

Gareth doesn’t say anything about the popcorn bags sitting on the counter next to him, but the room reads itself. You skitter over to the bag, before ripping the plastic and the bag apart by accident sending kernels across the floor. Gareth meets you at the linoleum below.

“Shit,” you sniff. “I’ll get the broom.”

“Hey,” he grabs your arm, before you can run off again. “What’s going on?”

You sit next to the mess on the floor letting out a gust of air from your lungs that you’ve been holding onto for dear life.

“It’s stupid,” you tell him.

Gareth moves a piece of your hair from in front of your face. “What?”

You look at him for the first time. Between you two, you didn’t have to say a word he didn’t already know. Because while you’re chasing Eddie, Gareth’s warm heart is following after you. You’re blind to him before.

“Eddie’s not going to like me back, is he?” You whisper at an almost inaudible volume. Dabbing at your eye, you wipe the single tear threatening to break the damn.

Gareth sits with his arms wrapped around his knees.

“I don’t know,” he says honestly. “I think he just hasn’t woken up yet. He does talk about you a lot when your not around.”

“Really?”

“You scare him,” Gareth lets out a breathy laugh. “In a good way. He- he’s never had someone so loyal in his life besides his uncle. And, if what Eddie says is true, you’ve never truly changed to please anyone. You’re loyal, and your funny. You’re beyond beautiful. The Goddesses shrivel in your light-.”

Your cheeks heat up.

“Okay, I might have added that last part,” he admits. “But, you never know if you don’t try.”

You reach out for his hand. “Thank you, Gareth.”

He squeezes your hand. “Anytime.”

You say. “And I- I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“Erm- you know.”

“I do know,” he looks away. “I’ll be fine.”

You toss a popcorn kernel Gareth’s direction hoping to lighten the mood. Watching Gareth’s eye light up, he tosses one back.

“We should clean up,” you tell him.

Gareth agrees. “Oh, and - when I said you don’t change, I meant it.”

You pull at your half shirt. “Yeah, I don’t think this is me. Everyone just kept telling me to stop dressing like a boy.”

“Trust me,” Gareth suggests. “You do not look like a boy.”

“Oh, shut up,” you gather yourself on your own two feet. “I don’t know - I kind of like the look, but maybe tone it down a bit?”

“I’ll get the broom,” Gareth says leaving your question unanswered. "Oh, and I promise to keep myself and the guys out of your way the next time Eddie suggests we all have a 'movie night'" at your house."

"You caught onto that?"

"It's a classic move," he sweeps. "I can't say I wasn't going to try it on you some day."

"Well, I'm sorry that it wouldn't work out between us," you assure him.

"I'll survive," he says. "Beside, I know how great of a guy Eddie is. There's no hard feelings."

Gareth sweeps every last kernel from the floor, then uses the dust pan to scoop them up and finally tosses them into the bin. By the time he's done scoping out every inch of your floor, you're done popping a new bag of popcorn.

The movie night continues without a hitch (aside from the merciless damning of the film from each of the boys in your home). Your eye on the one man, who could never look at you the way you do him. But, you don't know that for sure.

Because, as soon as you look away, Eddie's full attention is on you.

Katsuki: The duality of man never ceases to amaze me.

Katsuki: Deku once figured out the murder weapon was hidden inside a hollowed-out walking cane, by looking at the dent on the wall left by a hockey stick.

Katsuki: And yet yesterday he asked me what the Spanish word for tortilla was.

*opens word doc covered in blood* it doesn’t have to be good. it just has to be done.

Au where Lo'ak after finding what shaving is, decides to shave off his eyebrows. He thinks this will solve half of his problems and he goes for it.

But after he's done he hates it, his forehead looks weird without them.

Neteyam, Tuk, and Kiri burst out laughing as soon as they see him without his eyebrows.

Neytiri sighs as she walks away, while Jake looks like a kicked puppy since the brows came from him.

Spider at least tries to be nice about it, since he understands Lo'ak's struggle with them. Kiri doesn't have the heart to tell Lo'ak, Spider laughed so hard as soon as Lo'ak was away that he was choking.

Neteyam makes fun of him until Jake tells the kids that when Neteyam was younger, he drew eyebrows on himself with mud. This causes Lo'ak to make fun of his older brother.

oh you have a tattoo? cool.. so ur telling me you were penetrated for hours and such? well good for you man :) no I did not word that weirdly what do you mean

𝑺𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕𝒔 - 𝒁𝒐𝒓𝒐 𝒙 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

This is a quick little Valentine's Day fic for Zoro! Short and sweet (pun intended,) but I loved writing it. I have a few other things I'll be trying to post leading up to Valentine's Day, but at the very least I've managed to get this out. I may end up editing it after the fact as I usually do.

CW: SFW, strong language, alcohol, tsundere-ish Zoro, female reader

~2k words

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

“I hate chocolate.” 

“Good. These aren't for you, anyway.”

Zoro grumbles under his breath as he follows you out of the little confectionery shop, begrudgingly holding a bag of various chocolates. He's never been a fan of sweets, not at all, not even a little. So when you dragged him inside on the one day you have off the ship, he was a little annoyed, to say the least. 

“What, so you bought this many for yourself?” He asks. His steps keep in time with yours as he walks beside you, careful not to lose you in the crowd.

“Nope. For the crew.” You explain, peeking into the bag you carry. “I thought it'd be nice to get everyone something since it's almost Valentine's Day.”

Shit. Zoro knew he was forgetting something. 

“Right. Valentine's Day.” Zoro mumbles, glancing down at the bag again. 

God, how could he forget? Everyone's been babbling about chocolates, roses, festivities, and the cook has certainly been the worst offender, asking every woman aboard if they'd be his Valentine. Somewhere between his training, their fights at sea, and taking naps with you, he lost track of time. His eyes remain locked on the bag of chocolates, and just as he's trying to push the strange blend of feelings from his mind, he feels you tugging on his arm. In his train of thought, he'd started veering off the opposite way. 

“Whoa, there. Ship's this way, Mossy.” You say in your goddamn adorably teasing tone. It makes him clench his jaw. 

“Yeah, I know. And don’t call me that.” Zoro responds curtly, bristling with annoyance. 

It just makes you laugh. 

“Whatever you say.”

---

Zoro stares at you from across the deck, watching you hand chocolates to your crewmates. Luffy's confused at first, then overjoyed; Usopp’s awkward, then grateful; Franky's making his stupid poses; Nami's taking it off your tab; Robin's thanking you; Brook's asking to see your panties; Chopper's wiggling and grinning; Sanji's nose is bleeding; blah blah blah. All the same antics, the same lines, yet all Zoro is focused on is that look on your beautiful face as you give out your Valentine's chocolates. Your eyes light up with every ‘thank you,’ every hug, and all Zoro can do is think about how the hell he forgot about Valentine's Day. 

But it's too late now, isn't it? The ship has already left the port and he didn't buy any flowers or gifts. He sucks at making cards, expressing his feelings, baking cookies - basically, anything that could make a decent Valentine. Then there's the most troubling part of all. Is he even your Valentine? Does it even matter?

You've been dating each other for somewhere around two months now. That doesn't necessarily mean that you're Valentine's, though. Nothing was ever said, neither of you asked the other, and at this point, he's not even sure how to bring it up. It seems rather obvious to him that you'd be each other's Valentine's, but that's what makes it even more frustrating - what seems obvious to Zoro isn't always obvious to others. Sometimes he's exhausted being surrounded by so many idiots (though he refuses to admit that he’s one of them.)

But not you. You're the idiot he doesn't get tired of. But, god, why did it have to be chocolates? Valentine's Day has always seemed like some kind of worthless, annoying day where everyone just gives out candy and useless junk as an excuse to make out. Making out, Zoro can handle - sweets, not so much. But then there's you, who's all sugar and spice and everything nice. The antithesis of what he's supposed to like, but your attitude has proven irresistibly charming to the stoic swordsman. 

The way your smile beams across the ship could end wars, call ships away from danger, light up the moonless sky as it so often has when you've been on watch together. It's damn near impossible to deny how much he loves to see that look on your face, and even more irritating that currently he's not the one that put it there. So, chocolates. Zoro can't do that. But that smile? He'll maim, kill, and die for it. He reasons that maybe there's a simpler way. 

---

You're a little skeptical when your boyfriend asks you to come up to the crow’s nest in the middle of the night. Hell, neither of you is assigned watch and it's well past your usual hours for training. Usually, this late at night, Zoro's fast asleep in his hammock if he's not tucked into your bed with you. So, what gives?

“Just shut up and trust me.” He chides, his tone slightly irritated but mostly playful. Well, that's Zoro.

As you follow him out onto the deck, the cool night air hits the exposed skin from your pajamas. The stars are beautiful, glittering above in a way that's almost distracting, but you don't linger your gaze on them for too long. Instead, you stay closely behind Zoro, your arms crossed over your chest long enough to keep some semblance of warmth. The journey up the crow’s nest is longer than you'd like given the temperature and your sleepy mind, but you swear you can almost smell something weird wafting down from the open door hatch. 

It's not only until you peek inside that you recognize the scent of lavender, and through the candlelight, you recognize a large blanket, several pillows, a bottle of sake, and some kind of food on a few plates. As you're trying to register what you're looking at, Zoro pulls your hand gently to assist you up the rest of the way. 

“What is this?” You ask, and the way your lips curl into a smile makes Zoro's heart stutter. 

He lets go of your hand, walking across the planks of the crow’s nest to his makeshift picnic. It’s a romantic setup that took him all evening, and he can recall the several conversations he had with himself to try to figure out something to throw together. He’s a little satisfied with himself - smug, even - but he maintains his usual demeanor for now. Zoro doesn’t want to get ahead of himself, after all.

“Well, what does it look like?” Zoro responds in his classic, gruff tone. “Made you a picnic. Since it's Valentine's Day and all that.”

Your eyes glance around the candles, and while the setup is fairly simple, you can't deny the wonder you feel at the sight. Never once had you expected anything like this from Zoro. Quite truthfully, you thought he would have forgotten or written off the whole thing as stupid. Taking a few careful steps, your gaze finally glances back up at him. 

“Where did you…I mean, food and candles? I really didn't…”

Zoro hums, and his lips finally quirk up into a cocky smile for a moment. He couldn’t keep that smug feeling aside for long, especially when your eyes light up the way they do.

“Candles are from Robin, and I owe Nami for tricking the cook into getting us some snacks.” He responds before his eye flicks back up to yours. “You like it?”

“Like it? This is the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me.” You grin, and you move to close the space between you two. It makes Zoro's heart stutter yet again. 

“Really? Is the bar that low?” Zoro replies with an amused huff. “Didn't think it was all that impressive. I pulled it together sorta last minute when I realized Valentine's Day meant so much to you.”

“It doesn’t.” You respond quickly, and you let out a laugh at Zoro’s shocked expression. So, you elaborate. “I mean, I like Valentine’s Day because it’s an excuse to express how much people mean to me. But the holiday itself doesn’t make or break anything. I wasn’t expecting you to actually care about it, which is why I never said anything.”

Zoro seems contemplative for a moment, his eye trailing carefully over to the makeshift picnic. He lets out a huff, one hand resting casually on his sword, the other against his thigh. 

“Of course I don’t care about Valentine’s Day.” He says, almost snapping. Guess you struck a nerve. “It’s a stupid holiday designed for people like that love cook to hit on women. I didn’t even know it was Valentine’s Day ‘till you bought all that candy.”

Despite his harsh tone, you can’t help but smile a bit wider at his response. He seems irritated, and likely just because he was in his own head about it. And god, that smile you give him…

“But I care about you, moron. That’s why I threw this together.”

Zoro sits down on one of the blankets, patting a pillow next to him for you to join. You don’t hesitate, and as you sit down you watch as Zoro grabs the bottle of sake and pulls the cork out with his teeth. He spits it aside, taking a long swig of it. If the candles weren’t so dim, you might have been able to notice the way the tips of his ears light up red. 

“I already told you that this is the nicest thing anyone’s done for me. You don’t have to feel weird about doing it just because I wasn’t expecting it.” You finally speak up, a hand moving to rest on his forearm. “Seriously, I appreciate this. It’s honestly really…sweet.”

Zoro takes his free hand holding the bottle of sake, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand with a sigh. He’s definitely embarrassed, but that sweet tone of yours makes something in his chest feel lighter. 

“Yeah, well…I don’t normally do sweet. You know that.” Zoro says, setting the bottle of sake down between the both of you. And he knows that you know that - hell, you probably know him better than most people. “Just felt like now that we’re dating, I wanted to see you…have a good Valentine’s Day.”

“For someone who claims to hate sweet, you’re very good at it. Thank you, Zoro.” You reply, leaning against him just a little bit. The skin-to-skin contact makes Zoro heat up a bit, and when you lean in closer, you can’t contain the small giggle that leaves you. “But I feel like I should let you know that Valentine’s Day isn’t for another few days.”

Zoro’s expression drops once again, and that stupid annoying feeling of irritation fills him. His head snaps in your direction, and he visibly bristles. It makes you laugh.

“Dammit! Why the hell were you giving everyone chocolates so early then, woman?” 

“Because I didn’t want them to go bad! Plus, I’m horrible with surprises. I get too impatient.” You laugh again, and that laugh somehow both irritates and soothes Zoro. He’ll never understand the effect you have on him.

Grumbling, he grabs the bottle of sake again. Before he can bring it to his lips, though, your hand moves up to his chin, gently pulling it so that he looks right at you. With a grin, you lean forward and press your lips tenderly against his. That irritation in him is gone, and his eye slowly shuts as he feels you both melt into the kiss. Goddamn, Zoro hates sweets, but the taste of your lips against his is addicting. His chest aches when the kiss breaks, but your lips linger against one another.

“Happy Valentine’s Day.” You murmur.

What’s going through Ren’s mind when he snaps?

What if we see the CCTV footage and ID the man’s face?

I have this scenario where we see [REDACTED]’s eyes on the footage from the security team when violet inquired about the man leaving our apartment and we get a shiver down our spine. Well never forget those eyes.

So ren comes over and while we're hanging out you start to get that familiar feeling that you got when you saw the tape and immediately jump on high alert and he notices.

“I-is everything alright Angel—“ he stammers.

“You’re wearing make-up? I know that foundation it’s the same company I use.” You noticed. The little things about him that weren’t noticeable before are suddenly coming to like. Call it anxiety but you knew what was going on.

“Yes I-“

“Take it off.”

“Angel—“

“Your sweater too. “

What you were asking might have been a lot. Especially for someone who was adamant about his privacy. But you were too blinded by the fear of that tape.

Someone was in your home. The little things that went missing weren’t usual—however now we know the possible answer as to why.

The “coincidences” of ren are starting to become unusual.

“Maybe I said something wrong. I’m sorry— I should go.” He frantically picked up his phone as he tried to leave.

Quickly stumbling over you grabbed his hand to turn him around. In a panic, he jumped back and fell over.

You pounced on top of him and snatch a nearby water bottle off of the table.

This was your chance.

You gripped his face tightly, nails digging into his cheeks.

“S-stop! you’re hurting me!” He cried out flailing his arms trying to get you off of him. But he didn’t want to hurt you. He could never hurt you.

You squeezed the bottle and surely enough the water washed what you knew was a fake persona away.

The dye, the concealer, the lie.

Those same cold blue eyes that were on the tape are peering up at you in blatant fear, distraught, anger and pain.

What once was a cheerful appearance is now a dark-haired man with concerning dark bags under his eyes.

It was him.

“Oh my god.” You stammered as you crawled back off of him.

In a panic, he felt it all over his face. As if a masked killer and his mask were snatched off.

“What did you do!?” He spat through clenched teeth.

“You— I— I Had a plan damnit!” His voice croaked and cracked as he cried out crawling on his hands and knees to you.

“I wanted to do it right. I wanted to confess I swear!” He cried as mascara dripped down his face.

Scooting on your back to the wall you had nowhere else to go. Ren crawled on top of you while sobbing historically.

“Can you forgive me?”

“I’m so sorry!”

“I’m so fucking STUPID!”

He cried like a maniac. He was insane.

But suddenly he stopped. Like a light switch, he just stopped. It was creepy.

“Can you forgive me?” He slowly looked at us as he placed a gentle kiss on your head.

[sorry for typos]

✦゜ANSWERED: I—????? FOR FREE NONNIE???????? COME BACK WHO ARE YOU LET ME LOVE Y