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#why do i miss this fucking dude hes just a dream he doesn't even exist
moss-mlm · 2 years
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I had a really cute dream that I met a boy at a stars game. just met him and we just clicked, like we know each other for years. he was so fucking nice it was just a dream but I miss him.
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tsui-no-sora · 2 years
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Hello hi how are you :))
I've been meaning to send this for a while but I'm too busy so you can take your time answering because oof.
Anyway I've been thinking about cDream who's been blind. All the time. From the begging and during the manhunts. Maybe he has a horrible scar across his face and that's why he has the mask, or maybe he just doesnt want people to see or know. But yea.
I've been thinking about him a lot I have a lot of ideas I'm buzzing like a microwave.
Also the fucking face reveal is happening and I'm still somehow alive so that's something
I got this exactly the day my teacher is checking notebooks so I literally don't have anything to do this whole hour so Hi Hey I'm well how are you I missed talking to you about this concepts is really so much fun
I been so busy as well but we are both surviving it and that's what matters
And dude we are officially in the final line before our lives Dream's and all of his friends too change forever you know how insane that is after two years that I been on this fandom we are finally gonna get to see them meet you don't know how excited I am as well for their friends to finally get to see him as well dream sounded so happy already and I bet he's only gonna be happier now :)))
Ohh c!Dream who doesn't lose his eyesight during the prison c!Dream who's simply blind I really love that headcanon
I like to think he would have a scar in his face post Techno Duel I can picture c!Techno seeing his mask break and Dream's eyes and just thinking well the more you know before striking him down
But before that he just doesn't wanna show it so much but in the smp where he feels safe and relaxed with all of his dfiends who already know who he is
He would take his mask off from time to time and just exist like that, he would also steak George's goggles all the time and hid them from him. I can picture him taking Sapnap's bandana and tying it around his eyes just to make a silly joke.
I can also picture him being so anxious because he doesn't see but he can hear he can sense things around him, and just listening in as there's random noises he doesn't know where they are coming from inside the prison.
Or being super alarmed when Ponk and Bad took CPK to visit Pandora's.
Plus Techno having to knock multiple times in the glass because Dream can't see him and he can hear the lava moving but he doesn't know who's coming up from behind it and honestly he can't tell when things are actually making noise around him and when he's starting to picture things that aren't there (BTW I'm still insane about the implication that Sam drugging him during prison to make him confess things was a possibility)
Quackity making it a sort of game trying to be as quiet as possible to keep Dream trying to guess where the strike is coming from and Dream can always guess but he can tell Quackity likes it more when he pretends to not get it, and he needs to do everything he can to keep him entertained to keep him coming here everyday because if he doesn't if Quackity gets bored if he deems him unworthy he's going to kill him.
Also him being so so scared when he enters the fake cell that Quackity and Sam put together outside for him, because it's wrong and he can't tell how or why but something is happening and all of a sudden hes caught again and was he even ever free then
I also imagine him completely lashing out at Wilbur afterwards when he sneaks behind him and whispers on his ear and then reprimanding himself for not listening in properly and almost dying again
The new people don't know that Dream is blind Punz does know and he makes sure to never startle him
Quackity only finds out he's blind after his first vivist when he breaks Dream's mask
I also like to think about blind c!Ranboo and c!Dream the concept makes me happy also blind c!Dream who trails his hands on c!Tubbo's face and scars to memorize them during his presidency to show he does want to meet him he does want to be friends the fact that it also aligns with his Plan does help tho.
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sylvaridreams · 7 months
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I love the ways Aeris has evolved over the years... she and Alba were saplings together and friends. :) and they both had dragon related dreams so it was very like ohhhh were both destined for huge things hehe ^_^ so exciting good luck to us both let's go slay those dragons!
And then Alba succeeded and killed Zhaitan. And Aeris struggled and kept working, chipping away at how to kill Kralkatorrik like ok I'll catch up to you soon hehe! And then Alba killed Mordremoth and Aeris was like Haha um. Lol! Two of them huh. Bit of an overachiever aren't you? Lol! Well two is plenty.
And then Alba killed a god and Aeris was like dude. You're kind of making me look like shit right now. 🧍‍♀️ whatever. (Failgirl who takes things personally.)
Anyway then they teamed up at thunderhead keep to finish HER wyld hunt, to kill kralkatorrik with all of the knowledge she'd gained over her lifetime, all that research funneled into killing one elder dragon, doing her part, making her mark! She got to be there to finish it with her own two hands! HER research, HER wyld hunt! HER destiny! And they failed. And Kralkatorrik withdrew, less one eye but otherwise fine, unharmed. Aurene dead, Alba badly wounded. So much carnage among the rubble. Felt like shit obviously, but beneath that was the feeling that SHE had to fix it.
She went to the Crystal desert because she knew she was missing some factor, some tidbit in her equations that you don't get out of studying the brand in Ascalon, something out there that must only be present in Kralkatorrik's own home. And then of course she found what remained of the first of Glint's scions, and was struck down by the very emotional realization that this was her purpose, this is what she'd been meant to do all this time. Just as Alba was meant for Aurene, she'd been meant for Vlast, and she'd just never showed up as his champion. And he'd died alone without ever knowing his champion, without ever getting to bond with a mortal, being fed fresh fish and played with and feel safe and loved. So she had this heartbreaking realization that not only had she missed the offramp for her own destiny but that Vlast had suffered alone in a miserable, lonely life, until his miserable, lonely death.
It was like she'd changed the decade old batteries in a flashlight, and was blinded by the sudden light, not having realized it could do that at all. Everything just made sense, she could see her dream from the right perspective at last as the final pieces fell into place. But it was all too late! And what are you supposed to do when you FAIL your wyld hunt? No one had ever so much as mentioned that as a possibility, let alone given her a heads up of how to handle it. She was left wailing in the desert, terrified that since she'd fucked up and failed her hunt, since she hadn't fulfilled her purpose for living, she'd cease to exist soon, and feeling like shit that she could even be so selfish, worrying about herself in the midst of it all.
Alba killing Kralk while she was grieving in the desert was basically just salt in the wound. Sure man, I'm sure you needed another w. Whatever. Why not go for the last three and finish the set.
And obviously Tryllwenn found her and got her back on her feet, showed her life doesn't end at failure. Eventually sent her home, but like... where do you go when home is a task that you failed to complete? What do you say when home is the Priory, and now they want nothing to do with you, for wasting all their research money in the end? You're stunted in personal relationships because you were so focused on your career and your goal. You're afraid to go home to mom (what would be worse? Her rejection, or her pitying acceptance of your failure?)
In soooo many ways she mirrors Alba in her dedication to her job, in her refusal to ever have a homecoming from her long journey. (See: Alba never going back to the Grove because the burden and guilt of killing Trahearne made him feel like he couldn't. Never going home again, because surely the Mother Tree would look on you with hatred for your choice, surely the other sylvari would gaze at you with active malice.)
Which I guess is why it makes sense that she found home in following Alba. Visiting the places he visited. Where Alba goes, the Pact follows, and technically since Aeris refused to resign or show up to her firing, she's "technically Priory" and you can't kick the Priory out of the Pact!
Truthfully I think people feel bad for her, and as long as she makes herself somewhat useful, there's no real reason that they should chase her off. So she's present in the background a lot, kind of trailing behind Alba. Kind of like she always has been. A few steps behind. A side character to his triumphs. A footnote on a chapter about heartache.
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herstarburststories · 3 years
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You Have A Home
Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader
Summary: After a call from Y/N, Sam comes back town to help -- and brings Dean with him.
Requests: N°1 heyhey, could you do a Sam x reader where they went to college togehter and later meet again and they realise their feelings for eachother...xx + N°2: can you do a college sam headcanon with medicine student reader
A/N: This was fun! The monster here is mentioned in season 6, when the boys ask Bobby for advice on how to kill it. This is my first Samgirl long imagine, with Dean being the flirty he is. I wrote this almost one year ago, so it's more crude and I'm nervous to be posting it! And my piece for @cajunquandary 's 600 challenge, my prompt was monster of the week. Dividers by @talesmaniac89!
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Dean's eyes remained on the road when the bitter statement left his body, tangled with a wry chuckle, “I can't believe you are still in touch with those people.”
“Those people?” Sam arched elbows, slightly skeptical by his brother's tone, “They were my friends, Dean.”
“Sammy, all our friends? Dead. They all die. Or worse.” He glanced at him for a moment, pursing his lips together. It might not be an easy assignment, but was part of the job. Sammy had tried to run away plenty times and always came back, when would he understand? “We don't get to have friends. You should've learned that.”
“They are not our friends, they are my friends. Also, they don't know about the hunting life, they aren't in harm.” Sammy hissed once the other locked his green eyes on the road again. Dean sighed, moving one hand away and up from the steering wheel in a rendition gesture.
“Whatever you say, man. I'm just warning you, this doesn't usually end up good for them.”
Sam scoffed, Dean could get on his nerves sometimes, “We saved many people that got to have a good life.”
“Yeah, but those people didn't know us before that. I told you when you left Stanford--”
“I didn't keep contact, okay!? I just... I just still have a phone that they have the number of. No social media, no calls on birthdays.” Nervously gesticulating, he added, “I know how to keep them safe, Dean.”
“So, old friend?” The eldest Winchester asked after the few minutes of silence that followed Sam's outburst, “Female old friend?”
“Yes. (Y/N) (Y/L/N).” Dean smirked, and Sam to rolled his eyes at his behavior, “Keep it in your pants.”
He'd let out a malicious laughter before turning on the radio, the first guitar sounds of AC/DC playing in the background.
“I think you'll be the one not keeping it, Sammy.”
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“Hello?” The woman in nothing but a towel who had opened the door greeted them with a question, her brown eyes glaring at the two men with clear confusion.
Dean had no shame to check her out, innerly celebrating that she was still wet from her shower. Perhaps visiting Sam's friends wasn't that big mistake. “Hey, you.”
She grimaced at Dean for two seconds before turning her attention to Sam again, sudden recognition written on her face.
“Sam? Sam Winchester?” He nodded, smiling that light-hearted boyish grin at her. Not caring about her dressings, she just threw herself at Sammy, hugging him tightly. “I missed you!” She pulled away only to hit his shoulder. Her short stature didn't match Sam's, but he'd still make a grimace at her attempt of slap. “Why didn't you call? God, your hair grew a lot. Listen, I have some scissors.”
“Tried that, didn't work.” Dean interrupted their reencounter, trying to get in the conversation. An usual lopsided grin on his face, “Dean Winchester, Sam's brother.”
“Layla, Sam's friend.” She gave him a friendly smile in return, opening space for them to pass through the door before closing it, “Come in, I need to change in clothes.”
“I wouldn't even dream of that. Seriously.”
Layla would just wiggle one of her brows at Dean's comments, not impressed by it, “Ele é sempre assim? (Is he always like this?)”
Thankfully, Sam still remembered a bit of his friend's native language. He just chuckled, managing to apologize for Dean's typical Dean behavior, “Unfortunately. Sinto muito. (I'm sorry)”
“(Y/N) is in the kitchen. I'll be right back.” Her accent was thicking stronger duo the comfortability around Sam. Excusing herself, the caramel skinned girl leaded upstairs.
“What did she say?” Dean asked, side glancing at the path Layla had just gone on, not even sure of which language she'd just spoken, much less what was said. Sammy didn't bother replying, satisfied to grin at his obvxion brother. “Dude, come on!”
“Sam!” A well-known voice filled the room as the image of (Y/N) appeared in front of them, dressing your loyal cook's avental. You didn't think twice before jumping on Sam. “I missed you, giant!”
He, like always, caught you with a light-hearted laughter, “I missed you too, cupcake.” You two spent a few moments like this, enjoying each other's warm and long lost touch, until Dean cleared his throat. You finally went back to the ground, embarrassed by having a stranger to see that level of intimacy between you and Sam, “This is Dean, my--”
“Handsome brother. Hello, cupcake.” Dean was so going to tease Sam for the rest of his life for it.
“You really live up for Sam's description.” You giggled, heading towards the kitchen “Come in, I'm baking.”
“So, you and Layla still live together?”
“Most of the time, yes. You know how she is, comes and goes. Never wanted to stay in a place for too long and got a job that supported that.” The boys followed you, Dean examining the kitchen and trying to discover what you were cooking through the smell, while Sam couldn't take his eyes on you, “Apparently, just like you.”
Even though your back was facing them as you checked the food, the bite didn't pass unnoticed, “I had to leave, (Y/N)”
“I understand that, Sam. But you never called or texted. It was like I--” You quickly corrected yourself, “We never existed for you.”
“It's not like that.” Sam sighed, how could he justify? He knew you wouldn't buy a simple excuse. You were smart, and knew him too well to swallow a 'I went on a trip with my brother and just decided that college wasn't my deal' and leave it for that.
“I'm here!” Layla declared, arriving into the room with an excited smile, it was good to have the gang back together. Although, the tangible tension almost made her go back to the shower, “Am I interrupting something?”
“A sitcom DR.” Dean answered with sarcasm, spreading his figure on the chair when you turned around with an apple pie in your hands “What about we talk about the ca-- Is this pie?”
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“We heard a scream followed by a loud roar and (Y/N) stayed near the camping part because there was still a signal and I went looking for who it was. When I got there, the thing ran away. Jorge's body... No human did that. His chest was cracked open irregularly, as if it was done by an animal and his heart looked weird. Like it was squeezed and drawn on up somehow?”
“We got a Samia.” Dean stated, relaxing on his spot. Some sault, rosemary and fire would do the job just fine, “Let me guess, it left a clawn near the body or inside it?”
Layla nodded, “Right in the chest or what lasted of it.”
“Are you okay? Finding the body in that state.” A comprehensive manner englobed Sam's question, whom noticed the normality with his friend described finding a shattered body.
“Just some guts.” She shrugged, a grimace was all the reaction they'd get. Crying wouldn't help, neither being terrorized as they expected her too. “I've seen Grey's Anatomy enough not to care about it.”
“Well, I'm literally a medicine student and I am still not okay with that. Especially after you made me go and check the body.” You argued, glaring at your best friend who'd only roll her eyes in response.
“I needed a professional to say if he was dead or not!”
“You need a therapist.”
Dean got up, looking straight at Layla. Time to play the hero in shining armor, “Don't worry with that, we will take care of it.”
Frowning, you were the one to respond, “Do you work for the police now or?”
“Are implying that we investigate it by ourselves?” Your best friend added.
Dean couldn't believe his brother. How the fuck did he let them get inside without saying they didn't know about the hunting business? It was a luck shot that they didn't think much when he said Samia.
“Nope. Not you two. We will do it.” The blonde one said, pointing at them with a smirk.
“I agree, we will do it.” Layla replied, matching his taunt smile.
“Sam, I'm not letting you and your brother do it by yourself. Jorge was my professor, I knew him. Besides, we found the body.” You got on your feet and crossed your arms, waiting for a response. Sam always had a sort of hero complex, ready to help no matter what, but there was no way you'd be letting him go into danger with his brother. Getting in your dormitory to kill a cockroach back then or facing an idiot during a bar fight to protect one of your friends was something, but this? They were talking about looking for an assassin. What if something happened to him? You were the one who called. All on you. The thought of Sam getting hurt for any reason was unbearable, but because of you? You weren't willing to do that.
“You would be in danger, (Y/N). You both.” He tried to explain, internally hoping you'd accept his reasoning and let it go. Sam didn't want you to become one of the friends who knew about this life, you deserve more. He already lost one woman he loved in this city, he couldn't lose another.
You huffed in frustration, “Just like you will!” 
“It's different.” As he was terrified of, you insisted. Arms crossed still and eyes locked with his, determined to get something from him. Sam was smart enough to know that you would keep it going. Perhaps he could give you a short explanation, “Me and my brother, we are used to this. We hunt things like that.”
Layla tilted her head to the side. The way Sam talked remembered her of animal hunting, although she highly doubted that was the case, “Little more explanation?'”
“Monsters are real. Vampires, werewolves, spirits. The list goes on. Call us crazy. Roll the credits.” Sarcasm saltered every word of Dean's as he gestured up and down with a cocky smile. Everyone glared at him, a special furious look from his brother, “What? I thought they knew what we did and that's why she called.”
“Sam?” Your voice was fragile when you said his name, a demonstration that you would believe him through the fear of the truth, but that he had to say it.
Sam laid his hazel eyes on you. God, how he wished he didn't have to confirm anything, to break your vision of world so abruptly, “Dean is right. Supernatural things are real. I know it sounds--”
“Unbelievable? Problematic? Scary?”
“Yeah, all of them.” Sam offered you a humorless smile, then holding your hand the way he used to when you were nervous about an exam, “But I wouldn't lie to you, cupcake.”
The silence was broken by Layla opening a bottle of Whiskey, pouring them for the three people in the room besides herself. You rolled your eyes at your best friend, while Sam wore a tiny smile and Dean was astonished.
Noticing the eyes glued, the latina just shrugged “What? If you are gonna tell me that Dracula is real and you are a sort of Buffy's apprentice, then we will need some alcohol.”
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“Why did you call?” Sammy asked, his brows knotted together, mouth slight open as he waited for your response. “You didn't know what I did. And he wasn't my professor at Stanford. Then why did you call, (Y/N)?”
You could make up a hundred excuses. Lie and say he was the one friend besides Layla that you had somehow a way to get to. Appeal to the excuse of 'I felt something weird about the death and you said I should call if I ever had a problem of any kind'. But for as much as you felt horrible for using a death as a pretext for calling him, that was partially the truth. You already had put yourself into a mess of monsters and a drained heart, it couldn't be scarier than being honest to Sam and to yourself.
At least, you hoped so. But your heart was rushing like when you saw Jorge's body. Jesus, when did love become so morbid?
You took a deep breath, oxygen barely achieving your lungs, and then started to talk.
“I wanted to call you the minute that you left, Sam. I almost did a million times.” You answered, looking down at the bottle of a sort of plant that he was putting in a dark green bag. “I thought about what you could be doing, what was so important that you couldn't send me a message. But you just didn't want to call, I guess.”
“I wanted to call, of course I did.” You scoffed at his statement, looking up to match his eyes, “(Y/N), I'm serious.”
“You didn't even come to Jess' funeral, Sam. Layla said that maybe you needed to leave to clear your mind, that was too much to deal with. But I was so worried, and sad and confused and I wanted to talk to you because you would understand, you always did. About anything. And I wanted to give you some sort of comfort, but--” You lifted your hands and shrugged your shoulder, a broken chuckle leaving your body. “But you weren't here.”
“You stopped leaving messages after two weeks. Calling was gone when it made a moth.” You sniffed. Sam's lips curved into a pure, cautelous grin. God, he was always so sweet. “The emails took two months.”
“You were never good with dates. I gave you a calendar in your freshman week.” Your teeth met your lower lip. He didn't answer, only nodding at your affirmation, omitting the fact that he still had the calendar between latin books and pieces of newspapers, “Yet, you remember all of it.”
Sam leaned forward, holding your hand with all the delicacy you would expect from a sculptor. It had been too long since he hugged you, and his touch made all your skin tickle with warmth. “I missed you too, (Y/N). I thought about you all those years.”
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“So, Cupcake?”
"Let's focus on the case, Dean."
“Then you can go back and eat your cupcake?” He remarked with a grin. His brother just huffed, pointing the flashlight through the trees, “So, Layla…”
Sam rolled his eyes, like he usually did when Dean started being too Dean for his liking, “Dean. The case.”
Before he could make another teaseful comment, a roar invaded their audition. The hunters gave each other a quick glance before heading towards the direction of the noise.
Shaking the salt and rosemary mixture in his hands, Dean smirked, “That's it. Time to shine, cupcake.”
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“I have to admit. Being patched up by a doctor is better than by Dean.”
A surprised, half relieved laughter came out your body as you finished another stitch on Sam's arm. That boy was unbelievable; openly talking and making jokes about his brother, who was also being patched up by your best friend in company of a bottle of whiskey, while he spoke about Layla's name being a rock song. You were working on a large wound on his shoulder-- which you were sure that was full of dirt from the forest.
Medicine student, but I'll take that complement.” You winked at him, gaining a soft grin from Sammy, “I was expecting more blo-- Why are you smiling? I'm touching a recent wound. It doesn't look dangerous, but I'm sure it is supposed to hurt. A lot.”
Sam's answer came out easily, the bare, vulnerable truth: “I'm happy you are here.”
You looked at him, his hair longer than before, but the soft simper remained on his face. You bit your lip to hold a giggle; her heart dared to hope. What he expected when he said things like this? A quiet contentment spread through his expression while he watched your reaction.
“You should have come home sooner.” 
His mouth formed a line, “I don't have a home, (Y/N). It's just Dean, me and the road now.”
“No, Sam.” Shaking your head lightly, you intertwined your fingers with his. His life was dangerous, you couldn't afford the luxury of waiting even more to share what you had finally admitted to yourself in the moment he walked through the door. It didn't seem like the easiest, simpler situation. But the only hard thing you couldn’t go through was to be away from Sam Winchester. He lingered on you for years, you were done letting him run away. It was time to hold his hand and walk together. “You should've come home sooner. To me.”
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marindram · 3 years
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full transcription of Marin's blog from Omega Mart!
huge thanks to @b0chelly for recording a scroll-through, which i typed this out from. (and warning for Omega Mart lore/story spoilers. second half is in reblog)
Marinknows.best
Location: Seven Monolith Village
Last Login: 12/31/2019
Profile Views: 101,275
About me: I love listening to music and glitter
Friends (0)
June 26, 2018
Happy Birthday to meeeeeeeeee!
So 14 feels way different than 13. For real. I think it's because I was expecting 13 to feel different, but sometimes when you expect something it turns out the opposite ya know?
Plus, 13 is like, "I'm new to being a teenager!!"
14 is more like, "I'm becoming the person I want to be." At least that's how I want it to be. I wanted to start this blog as a record of all that.
I should ask Did you guys feel the same way when you turned 13 and 14?
But probably nobody's gonna read this because I'm just a weirdo in the weird dessert. I mean, I know my best friend Jesse is reading this (hi Jesse). Besides her, crickets.
But yeah, if you are reading this and you don't know me - I live in Seven Monolith Village, a teensy tiny town that you've only heard of if you're into aliens or homesteading. And I'm literally stuck. As in, I'm physically unable to leave. My first memories are of all the adults in my life (Charlie, my great-uncle/father-figure - Rose, my what? Roommate? Mother-figure? Pseudo-aunt? All of the above? and my mom, Cecelia. who doesn't live here) telling me that for some reason, there's something wrong with me that makes it so I can't leave a certain radius of where we live. I got older and thought that they were just exaggerating to keep me safe, but then last year I tried. And it was, let's just say not good.
Anyway. That part of my life sucks, but not everything sucks. This year is all about Marin Dram 2.0. Not new, but definitely improved.
And maybe someday, somehow somebody will read this and care about what I have to say. Somebodies, even. Until then, this is Marin Dram signing off and sending my lame contemplations into the void!
July 1, 2018
Things I Want To Do Before I Turn 20 (and some of these will never happen like are literally unable to happen but JUST LET ME DREAM
1. Kiss someone (who???)
2. Meet HTB (kiss him) (jk he would never) (plus meeting him would be enough)
3. Go to Paris
4. Go to Rome (or somewhere cooler in Italy, look up where is the best pasta???)
5. Go to Greenland (why not???)
6. Go to New York City
7. Go to LA (with a dream and my cardigan lol)
8. Go to the Grand Canyon (this isn't mine, but 9, Jesse is sitting right here and she went to the GC when we were 12 and she's like blah blah blah it's my favorite place in the world and you'll love it. I'm doing this so she'll shut up.
9. Live in a normal house with normal rooms → ideally 12 of them: living room AND TV room, kitchen, dining room, 3 bathrooms, 3 bedrooms, study/library.
-plus an upstairs downstairs
-I'm willing to compromise on the number of rooms as long as there's more than ONE for TWO PEOPLE and I got my own
-plus an upstairs/downstairs
-I'm willing to compromise on the number of rooms as long as there's more than ONE for TWO PEOPLE and I get my own room with an actual door. Very into doors.
10. Go to a mall (Jesse says there's a bunch of bonkers ones in Vegas)
11. Make friends who aren't Jesse (no offense, Jesse)
12. Get Cecelia (my "mom") to teach me about business stuff so I can open my own cool coffeeshop/bookstore someday
13. Learn to drive (ask Charlie to teach me, he's obsessed with his truck) (Jesse says she can teach me because she's Little Miss Mechanic and thinks she knows everything about cars but news flash Jesse: you're you get than me)
14. Figure out my signature style- like I want people to send me pictures of things and be like "this just screamed Marin" and for that to be true
15. Liquid eyeliner??
16. I'm stopping here because I just read over all this and want to die/cry because easily 3/4 of these are literally impossible?
17. Kill me
18. Bye
19. Lololol Charlie just came in and I was complaining about this, not being able to leave and stuff, etc and he said that I should visit new places by... reading books?? And I mean I like to read. But dude. That's the dumbest thing I've ever head.
July 30, 2018
Okay so this is what I want my life to look like:
I want a pink room. Not just pink... P I N K. Cool pink wallpaper (floral? jacquard??), pink carpet, lots of pink flowers everywhere, a four-poster bed with a pink silk canopy, lots of cool pink throw pillows. Like, so pink that
people think I'm being sarcastic! Oh, and BOOKS. Floor-to-ceiling bookcases, and some of the shelves have, like, STUFF on them that isn't books, like gifts people gave me, or things I've collected on my JOURNEYS. You know, normal stuff that people who live on normal places and do normal things have.
If I lived in in this room, it'd be in awhite three-story house at the end of a cul-de-sac (did you know "culs-de-sac" is the plural? Not "cul-de-sacs"? crazy) and I'd wear very classic girly clothes and my hair would always do what I wanted it to. It'd be one of those towns that people call small, but it's actually a city. just one with a kinda small, cozy feeling. Somewhere that gets cold enough to wear cute jackets but not so cold I have to to like, shovel my driveway. Not a non-place with like 100 people where you can't even go outside without going crazy.
August 2nd, 2018
I guess I should explain where I live, for all my avid fans out there! (lol) (hello??)
So like... I don't live on Earth. At least, not the Earth you think of when you think of EARTH. I live in some some weird off-brand version of Earth called the Forked Earth where there are aliens and magic wells of magic energy and everything is MAGIC but like the crappy kind of magic, where the sun never fully rises and some goo called "runoff" has made everything wacky and oh yeah, my mom is responsible for that and everyone here hates her!! LOL
Also, I can't leave! Like, literally can't! Rose says I'm a "special child of Source" and that's why but that LITERALLY explains tells me nothing, in fact it just raises further questions that no one can seem to answer! AHHHHHHHHHH
Anyway, the last time I tried to leave I felt. When I try to leave I feel like I'm being pulled back by something, like you know those old cartoons where someone's on stage doing something dumb and then someone offstage pulls them away with a giant shepard's crook? It felt like that, and when I opened my eyes I was back in 7 Monolith Village. UGH.
I know this sounds crazy!!!!! But believe me when I say that I am the least crazy person here. Also, """here""" is C R A Z Y. Runoff has made everything the bad kind of psychedelic and then people here actually DRINK IT! Not only do I not DRINK THE STUFF THAT HAS MADE THE WORLD INSANE, I also do not talk to aliens (or whatever Nula are) like Rose or believe crazy conspiracy theories like Charlie, so I believe that qualifies me as the most normal person in the Forked Earth, thank you for this honor, I accept this award with humility and grace!
September 4, 2018
I had the weirdest dream last night?? I was swimming in a pool full of cereal, and when I came up for air, my mom was pouring milk on my head like she was rinsing my hair. She had her hand over my face like I was a little kid and she was shielding me from soap getting in my eyes.
Anyway I have no idea what it's supposed to mean. I went to bed hungry and I need to take a shower? Lol
October 16, 2018
I was trying to hide this entry from Jesse, but JESSE IS A NOSY PERSON. She says that blogs are for readers, and if I wanted something to be private then I should "Just write in a fucking notebook and hide it under your bed like a normal person, Marin." I'm allowed to have secrets!! Anyway, I'm making her a freaking playlist, that's why I wouldn't tell her what I was writing about. but EVEN STILL! I'm allowed to have secrets!! But I have this blog because I wanna get my feelings out, I wanna see everything in my head typed out all nice in a way that doesn't make it look insane. You know? I don't know who I'm asking.) Because, it's not like I go to a normal school or have a normal life where I'm surrounded by normal people I can talk to. No one knows about me! I'm trapped in this crazy place and This blog is my only outlet to the world outside. I KNOW that's heavy but it's true! The point is: Jesse's birthday is coming up. The central consistent thing in pretty much my whole life is sharing headphones with her and listening to music. The soundtrack to my entire existence is her. I wish I had money and could buy her the best presents of all time, but I can make her the best playlist of all time. I want it to be so good it feels like magic. I want her to think I'm magic. I had another dream the other night. I don't remember much, just glitter. I must be crafting too much. Or looking at festival makeup tutorials. Or both.
November 12, 2018
WARNING- Weird thoughts ahead, lol.
I can never tell which feelings are normal, and which are me being a giant weirdo. But for as long as I can remember, I've had this feeling like every part of my body that's possible to have a ribbon tied around it, has a ribbon tied around it. It's so weird. I can't see the other end of the ribbons - how far they go. where they're attached, nothing. And sometimes it's fine, because sometimes I can hardly feel them. I can forget about them for days at a time, weeks, months if I'm lucky. But then other times I can feel them like, pulling at me. It's freaking spooky, to have something pulling at you from somewhere you can't see. I can't tell if it's pulling me toward whatever it is? Or if it's trying to warn me? Or if I'm just insane??
Does that make sense? Does anybody else feel that way? (she asks into the void)
So idk I guess this ribbons-feeling is why I'm really careful all the time. Like I'm just a careful person. Charlie tried to give me a hard time about it, and I can't be like "I don't wanna pull back in the ribbons too hard without realizing it and wreck something!" because he'd be like "WTF Marin, do we need to get you help?" But also, more and more, I want to be the opposite of careful. I want to take a pair of comically oversized scissors and cut the ribbons into so many pieces that nobody can even tell what they are any more.
I don't know why I'm such a freak, only that I am. I don't know why I can't leave 7 Monolith, only that I can't. But there must be a reason, even if I can't see it, and I feel like it makes sense that the ribbons-feeling is part of that reason, right?
There's just a lot.
January 15, 2019
Happy new year! Lol I forgot to write on the actual first day of 2019, but OH WELL!
I got this new glitter nail polish, thanks to the monthly makeup subscription box my "mom" sends me as an outlet for her abandonment guilt. It has like, every color glitter imaginable without quite reading as "rainbow" which is fine just not really what I was in the mood for and it's vaguely halographic and shifts into all these different colors depending on the light. I'm obsessed. Anyway.
I was putting on another layer because I chipped it like 20 minutes into wearing it, and all of a sudden I had this feeling like I recognized the glitter? Like I felt this thing way deep in my gut and for a minute I couldn't breathe. It's the closest thing I've felt to how books and movies make Christmas look. Like I was home, with family, cookies and cider and all that stuff. Familiar and safe. I almost didn't recognize that feeling. And it came from the nail polish. How weird is that.
I mean, I don't want to make it sound like I've had this awful Charles Dickens childhood - Rose and Charlie are the best ever and always there for me and I love them a lot. But things never feel like...home. You know?
My mom always says this cryptic stuff about how I'm "special" and I wanna strangle her because I'm not, but you try getting my mom to stop doing anything she wants to do. Rose told me once that one day, I would "lead the charge into a new era of existence and access" because I'm "of the Source" and I was like uhhhh okay?? Charlie mostly treats me pretty normal, except when I ask him questions about our family. my mom or any Dram. He knows that I want to know more about them and he's my only real entrypoint, but apparently he's like the black sheep of that whole family. He and my mom were close way back right before I was born, but now whenever she comes to visit he barely even looks at her.
So that's to say: nobody tells me anything, ever.
January 16, 2019
Okay this is so weird. I wrote that entry yesterday about glitter and then last night I dreamed about glitter. Then I woke up with purple glitter in my bed?? Like not a lot, so at first I thought it was from my nail polish, but it was just a handful of purely purple glitter that looks nothing like my nail polish. SO WEIRD!!!!!!
February 14, 2019
Rose has an old book full of "ye olde" style fairy tales, and I flipped through it for the first time in forever today.
Not so weirdly, I've always been drawn to the story of Rapunzel.
Rapunzel couldn't leave the tower, or else she'd break her neck and die.
Same.
February 19, 2019
I was reading this article the other day in one of the teen magazines my "mom" gets me a subscription to and it was all about body positivity, which is great, but it was basically just like "wear a crop top if you wannna wear a crop top! it doesn't matter what size you are! You go, girl!" And like, sure. Yes. I am all for that. But doesn't it seem like there are some steps missing in there? Like, I can physically put on a crop top and wear it outside. But how do I convince myself that everybody isn't looking at me and making fun of me in their minds? How do I unlearn the last almost-fifteen years? How do I get actually positive about my body, not just put on a crop top and fight the urge to cry all day?
It's the same thing like when my mom sends me brochures from the CEO camp she ten when she was my age (her dad started the camp for her, which is an insane thing just by itself, but she did all the work, which is even more insane) and she's like "Marin, you lack direction for your life" and I'm like, cool mom. Yeah. I can see that. What I can't see is how to get there from here.
March 2, 2019
This is what I want my life to look like, volume 2:
The walls of my room are covered in Polaroids of me and my friends. There are lots of mirrors in all kinds of shapes. hearts and moons and stars. There's a record player and a lot of vintage records by Billie Holiday and Lena Horne and Peggy Lee and Nina Simone. And Christmas lights! Everywhere! Lots of of pink and purple Christmas lights everywhere.
If I lived in this room, I'd have so many friends and be part of so many clubs. My best friend would have a collection of vintage cameras, and every place we go to that has a photo booth, we'd get photos taken. Every time I'd look at myself in one of those mirrors, I'd feel happy at what I see and never weird or sad. (Jesse hates taking pictures, so even when I actually do normal stuff with her there's no evidence. What even is a life supposed to be without evidence? That's not an actual question you need to answer Jesse, it's just a question)
Anyway, if I lived in this kind of room, my mom would probably be like, an art history professor at a liberal arts college. That's how come everything looks so cool, because I would know stuff about art. My mom and I would love to try new recipes together. We get each other new cookbooks for every special occasion, and right now we're working out way through a Moroccan one. Moroccan Mondays.
In actuality, there's a dust storm happening outside and my eyes sting.
March 9, 2019
Here's what I'm obsessed with lately.
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Can. You. EVEN???
February 3, 2020
Omg I totally forgot this blog existed!!
I lost the password and instead of just resetting it I got in one of my super stubborn moods (Taurus moon lol) and just kept putting in guesses and jokes on me, it locked me out. Anyway, that's a boring story.
But my friend Ximena is really good at hacking and stuff, so she got me back in. Yeah you read that right - I have friends. Obviously a lot has happened since my last post. Ximena moved out here a couple months ago (X's family used to live here but they moved away a while ago) and she introduced me to Lora who I sorta-not-really already knew, and Jesse and I have been hanging out with them a ton. Jesse kind of more than me. Which is fine!!
Anyway I'm 15 now? If I lived somewhere normal I'd be psyched about almost being 16, because I'd get a car and have a Sweet Sixteen and eat a huge PINK cake, but I don't!
February 16, 2020
I read this fanfic the other night that was written in the second person so everything was like "you." "you're doing this" etc you know?
So... You go to a drive-in movie with Heartthrob Boy, and he spills soda on you by accident. And you take off your shirt ( you have a tank top on, don't worry) to clean it up, bit you're still all sticky and self-conscious about being sticky and HTB like... used his tongue to get it off??? AAHHHHH I'M DISGUSTING
but also I wonder if a boy will ever touch any part of me with his tongue
March 2, 2020
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Hi I don't know if you heard but I have friends :)))
March 15, 2020
I think I'm so into painting my nails and doing my hair because those are things that always fit. I don't have to worry about places not carrying about a size 8, or places that carry XLs but when you read the measurements they're actually size 8s too and it's like jesus if that's an XL what am I
My "mom" was confused why I needed new pants because mine still look new, but I showed her the thigh holes and she was like "that's a weird place for a hole, how did that happen" and I realized that when your legs are a certain size, you just don't know about thigh rub and what it does to clothes. Pants could just last for years.
No matter what, I can paint my nails with a different color nail polish on every finger, and I can always do a braid crown. And I know I'm cute as hell, etc, so this is not a Marin Needs to Learn to Love Herself thing. It's just an UGH thing
April 17, 2020
So Rose does all these Source experiments on plants and flowers and stuff. Tbh, it's just one if those things I hardly even register anymore because it's just always there. She's explained to me a million times what Source is/does/means, but the way Rose explains things sometimes is just a LOT to take in and she refers to me as a "child of Source" but I kinda figure that's like "child of God" right? What else would that mean?
But anyway, it's really annoying because dried flowers are a part of my new aesthetic and I pinned a bunch of them up on my wall but I woke up this morning to a freaking jungle of very alive flowers. I freaked out. on Rose, and she Rose said she didn't do it and I was like WELL THEN WHO DID and she said that I did??
Which like. Obviously that doesn't make sense. I asked her what she meant and She just shook her head and said " It's happening. We should have known" which is some horror movie shit that she refused to elaborate on. I love to feel safe and normal!!
Or maybe it's not a horror movie at all. But maybe it's a superhero movie? Maybe there's some kind of origin story I don't know about yet, and all of this will be worth it once I figure out my powers. I wonder what my costume will look like. Lol.
April 23, 2020
Is it possible to die from longing? I know that sounds melodramatic, but I'm also kinda serious?? Because it seems like one of those things that could fester and get infected and kill you. It's like when you fall down and bang up your knee, and you need to put a band-aid on the scrape for a while, but THEN you need to air it out - but how do you know when you're supposed to do each one of those things? And if you do either one too much, your knee gets infected. What if I smother my heart with band-aids for too long and it gets infected? This isn't about anybody. I just keep having these dreams about someone I never expected to have dreams about and they're so intense that they keep leaking into my life and I wonder if I need to do something about them.
May 2, 2020
So Jesse's gotten really into metal music, and I tried to get her to play me something since, AS PREVIOUSLY ESTABLISHED, that's what we've literally ALWAYS DONE with music and each other, and she kinda looked at Ximena out of the corner of her eye and said like "I don't think it's really your thing" And it was the meanest thing anybody's ever said to me.
So later I looked up Zenion, the band she was talking about, and I listened to every single fucking song they've ever recorded turned up as loud as it could go with my own headphones that are better than hers anyway, and I loved it. And I didn't love it just because she said I wouldn't. I loved it because it was loud and weird and wild and when I listened to it it made me feel like it's not crazy when so feel stuff so hard it's like my heart's gonna vibrate out of my body. And I would have told Jesse all this and we could have shared it, but I guess she thinks just because I like HTB and glitter and stuff, I don't have the capacity for anything else.
She clearly doesn't know me at all. So much for any kind of whatever, why would she ever want to kiss someone she clearly sees as like a stupid baby.
May 7, 2020
The dreams are getting weirder and they're happening more. I'm getting scared to go to sleep. Not that the dreams are always scary (they almost never are, or not scary like in a typically scary horror movie way). I mean, I've only ever been me. I don't know what other peoples' dreams are like.
The other night in one I was jumping on a trampoline, which is something I've never done in real life. I told Rose about it when I woke up, and she said "do you even know how to jump on a trampoline?" and I said "Rose, it's not like riding a bike. You don't have to learn. You just jump." and then we got into this whole thing about how some things we just know, and jumping's one of them, and how that's so weird. Sometimes I really like talking to Rose about stuff.
May 19, 2020
So, it's prom season in the real world. If I lived somewhere normal, my prom dress would be pink with lots of tulle and silk flowers at the shoulders, and it would fit perfectly and trying in dresses would be fun and not anxiety-inducing.
But since there are only like 10 teenagers currently in 7MV, were not having a homecoming. Cool.
May 27, 2020
So, mom came to visit this weekend, and I asked her about her prom. She was Typical Cecelia at first, very "Prom is a waste of time and money, Marin. It's a night when lesser people play dress-up to engage with their aspirations of grandeur." And I was like eyeroll forever and just stopped talking. BUT THEN she actually talked to me like a human being. She was like, "I actually didn't go to my prom" and when I asked her why she said that she didn't have a date, and was very self-conscious about it. I almost passed out at her admitting that she's ever been anything less than perfect.
(gonna continue this in reblog)
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Note
Prompt: Class 1-A is tired of tododeku dancing around each other so they propose a little round of 7 minutes in heaven to try getting them together. Bonus: Shoto doesn't understand the game so he asks Midoryia to explain it when they're locked together.
Omg the drama, yessssss!
Ochaco was annoyed.
Granted, this wasn't an uncommon occurrence. When Bakugou said something mean to Deku, she was ready to float that demon gremlin into space. When Mineta objectified her female classmates, she conjured the wrath of the whole universe to send him into oblivion. When people called Iida 'too robotic to have any real feelings', she responded by doing things the class rep definitely wouldn't approve of.
Yeah, Ochaco could get very irritated.
However, this time, it wasn't a rude comment or a perverted action that infuriated her. It was a lack of… Well, anything really.
She sat at the dining room table, ignoring her maths homework as she stared across the room and glared at Deku, who was sitting on one of the sofas, frozen in place as Todoroki napped next to him, resting his head on her friend's shoulder.
Ochaco knew the two liked each other. It was obvious from the way Deku talked about him and through the fact that Todoroki literally felt comfortable enough to fall asleep on him. Yet, neither of them would do anything about it!
She made eye contact with Deku and glared, as if to say, 'Do something, moron!' but he just shook his head and remained still. He could’ve at least wrapped an arm around him, or rested his head against him, but no. He had to be all flustered and awkward.
'Something has to be done.' She announced.
'I agree.' Jirou muttered, voice monotone as she twirled one of her earphone jacks around her finger. 'If I have to watch them dance around each other for much longer, I'm gonna lose my shit.'
'Right?!' Hagakure added, exasperated. 'I walked in on Todoroki waxing poetry about Midoriya's perfect freckles last week. I swear, I've never heard him talk so much. Even Yaomomo looked like she wanted to vomit.'
'What do we do though?' Ochaco sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.
'We can't force them together.' A new voice spoke. 'But we can nudge them in the right direction.'
Everyone turned to watch as the back of a nearby desk chair swivelled around to reveal Ashido grinning at them. She was dressed in a suit with black sunglasses, stroking Koda's rabbit on her lap.
When they stared at her in question, she peered at them over the top of her glasses. 'I propose a game.'
'A game?' Jirou raised an unimpressed eyebrow, while Hagakure hummed excitedly.
'What kind of game?' Ochaco narrowed her eyes. As much as she was annoyed at them, Deku and Todoroki were still her friends.
'Gather around, girlies.' Ashido beckoned them closer, confidence ebbed from her very being. 'Allow Auntie Mina to show you the way.'
☀️🌙
The girls were quiet.
Izuku narrowed his eyes at them, gathered around the dining table as they whispered in hushed voices.
Too quiet.
Todoroki shifted slightly and Izuku quickly turned his attention away from his scheming classmates and to his best friend. He loved moments like this. Todoroki looked so peaceful and Izuku felt honoured that his friend trusted him enough to be so vulnerable around him.
He smiled softly, noticing the often hard lines of his face soften - an unguardedness that looked so out of place, yet had started to become increasingly familiar on Todoroki's features. Overwhelmed with emotion, Izuku wanted nothing more than to reach out and stroke his chubby cheeks, run his hands through silky hair, squeeze his arms around him and bring him closer.
But he didn't want to ruin things.
He knew Todoroki had a difficult home life. He had years of trauma to work through and Izuku was no different. He still flinched when he heard loud noises, just like Todoroki did when touched unexpectedly. Izuku also knew that he was Todoroki's first ever friend.
He couldn't risk destroying that by being selfish enough to tell him how he really felt.
'Hey, Deku-kun!' Uraraka sang, suddenly in front of them.
Izuku waved in greeting, before gesturing to Todoroki and urging her to be quiet.
She ignored him.
'Aw! Is Todoroki-kun asleep?' She batted her eyelashes innocently and Izuku mustered his biggest warning glare. 'Don't worry, Deku-kun! I'm glad actually, because I wanted to ask you, when do you plan on telling Todoroki-kun how you really feel about him?'
'Shhhh!!!' Izuku frowned and shook his head. 'Oh no. We're not doing this again, Uraraka-san.'
'Why not?' Her voice was sickeningly sweet. 'It's not like he can hear us.'
'It doesn't matter.' He whispered harshly. 'We've been through this. I'm not confessing because Todoroki-kun doesn't like me like that.'
'How do you know?'
'Because I'm me. No one feels that way about me.' Izuku sighed. 'And he doesn't care about romance stuff anyway! He’d totally freak out if I told him I wanted to hold his hand or kiss him-'
Todoroki suddenly twitched on his shoulder and Izuku almost launched himself into the air. Instead, he covered his mouth with his hand and stared at him in alarm.
He missed Uraraka's amused smirk.
'I'll hold your hand, Deku.' She spoke, smoothly, causing Izuku to shoot her a look. However, he quickly became distracted by the increase in temperature around him.
Is it getting hotter in here?
'Just kidding. I know you’re off-limits.’ His friend winked, before collapsing onto the arm of the sofa. ‘Anyway, I actually came over because me and the girls are organising a sleepover tonight and we want you and Todoroki-kun to come!’
‘I dunno, Uraraka-san.’ Izuku bit his lip.
‘Oh Deku-kun...’ Uraraka smiled playfully and crossed her arms. ‘Were you under the impression that this was an optional invitation?’
Izuku stared into determined hazel eyes and gulped.
☀️🌙
Shoto wasn’t quite sure how he got himself into this position.
One moment, he was asleep on Midoriya, having a lovely dream where his friend admitted to Uraraka that he wanted to kiss him, and the next, he was sitting in a circle with the rest of his class, waiting while Mineta and Bakugou stood in a broom cupboard together.
Shoto wasn't entirely sure what the point of that particular game was, but he'd learnt long ago not to question his classmates' antics. Plus, he had more important issues to focus on, like the fill-in game Ashido had decided to start between each pair-up. Apparently, everyone had to raise their hands, while the speaker admitted to never having done something before. Then, if you had done it before, you had to lower a finger.
Shoto wasn't sure what happened when you ran out of fingers.
'Never have I ever been walked in on by my parents.' Jirou smirked.
Several people lowered a finger, including Shoto. After all, his father never had learnt the concept of knocking. Privacy was non-existent in the Todoroki household.
'Woah, dude! You're telling me Endeavour has walked in on you jerking one off?' Kaminari sputtered.
'What?' Shoto raised an eyebrow. 'He used to walk in my room all the time when I was studying or napping. Yeah, I called him a jerk because of it, but-'
'It's okay, Todoroki-kun. Ignore him.' Midoriya laughed nervously. 'You can put your finger back up.'
'But-'
'Never have I ever broken a bone in my body.' Uraraka interrupted with a giggle. Shoto hummed suspiciously but let the matter go this time.
'URARAKA-SAN!' Midoriya exclaimed. 'How could you? This is a betrayal of the highest form.'
'Suck it up, Osteoporosis.' She stuck her tongue out and waited. Over half of the room, once again including Shoto, lowered their fingers.
'Fine, be that way.' Midoriya mumbled, before stroking his chin in thought. 'Never have I ever-’
'HAS IT BEEN SEVEN MINUTES YET?!' Bakugou suddenly roared from inside the closet, promptly silencing Midoriya. 'I swear, even an unconscious grape bastard can be annoying as fuck!'
'You knocked him out?!' Uraraka gasped, smacking her cheeks, before her face became eerily stoic. 'Good.'
When Bakugou was finally released, along with a limp Mineta, she then turned back to the circle and handed the empty bottle to Midoriya.
'Your turn, Deku-kun!' She sang. Shoto noticed how his friend turned bright red at the declaration. 'Come on, spin it!'
'O- Okay, fine!' He stuttered, taking it from her with shaking hands. After he placed it back in the centre of their circle, he flicked it with his wrist and it began spinning quickly.
Shoto narrowed his eyes when the bottle cast a small shadow as it rotated, but he quickly became distracted when the bottleneck suddenly came to an abrupt stop in front of him.
'Well, would ya look at this!' Ashido gasped dramatically. 'Midoriya, Todoroki! Give us your phones and get in the closet!'
'Wait!' Midoriya exclaimed, but he was promptly silenced when Uraraka pounced on him, stole his phone and carried him to the storage room, throwing him over her shoulder like he weighed nothing.
Shoto looked at the rest of the class, sighed and handed Hagakure his phone, before he followed his classmates, significantly more civilised than Midoriya, who was flailing around and shouting for Uraraka to put him down.
'Whatever you say, Prince Deku.' She smirked, before opening the door and throwing him into the small room. When he landed with a thud, she gestured for Shoto to follow.
The moment they were both inside, the door slammed shut behind them and they were surrounded by darkness.
'Are you okay, Midoriya?' Shoto asked as he heard his friend clamber to his feet.
'Yeah, yeah. I've had worse.' Midoriya laughed, before his tone became more sombre. 'Ugh, Todoroki-kun, I'm so sorry about this.'
Why was he sorry?
'It's okay.' He shrugged. 'I know they took our phones but we don't have to stay in the dark.' 
'Wait, no. Todoroki-kun, I didn't mean-'
Shoto raised his left hand and conjured a small flame, which illuminated the broom cupboard. Cylindrical shadows cast upon the walls, dancing slightly as his fire flickered. The action also allowed Shoto to glance at Midoriya, who rubbed the back of his neck nervously. A harsh flush decorated his cheeks.
'Are you sure you're okay? You look hot.' Shoto reached out a cool hand to check his friend's forehead.
'Ah!' He felt slightly hurt when Midoriya jumped back. 'I'm f- fine, really! I'm just… Sorry for dragging you into this.'
Yeah, about that…' Shoto looked away and scratched his cheek. 'What exactly is this?'
Midoriya somehow managed to turn even redder.
'W- Well, I didn't th- think you'd ask that-' He covered his face with his hands and began mumbling to himself about how they were friends and something about crushing someone.
Shoto was very confused.
'No, what's this 7 Minutes in Heaven game we’re supposed to be playing?' Shoto raised an eyebrow. 'I don't actually understand why we're in here, but I didn’t want to ask the others.'
The mumbling stopped. Midoriya's head shot up and he looked at Shoto with watery eyes that reflected the light of his orange flames.
'O- Oh…' He looked momentarily relieved and let out a laugh. 'That… Makes more sense. Ignore me!'
'But I asked you a question?' Shoto tilted his head to the side. 'There would be no point asking if I ignored you.'
'I… I didn't mean… Oh nevermind!' Anxiety came flooding back to Midoriya's face. 'Okay, so basically two people get randomly picked to go into a small space together for seven minutes - but you already knew that, huh? Of course you did. Right so, there's no set rules for what we're meant to do in here, we can technically do whatever we want, but usually, the two people selected have to… Er…’
‘Yes?’ Shoto pressed.
He watched as Midoriya twirled a loose strand of hair around his finger and narrowed his eyes.
‘We’re expected to k- ki- kiss and stuff.’ He finally answered. ‘The game’s designed to get people together romantically.’
‘Oh...’
'Not that we have to kiss or anything!' Midoriya scrambled to clarify, frantically waving his hands in front of him. 'I don't want to make you do anything you're not comfortable with and I totally understand that you don't want to kiss me!'
'I never said I didn't want to kiss you.' Shoto frowned. He actually quite liked the idea of kissing Midoriya. He was brave, kind, attractive and someone incredibly special to Shoto. He’d never wanted to kiss someone or hold their hand before, not until Midoriya came into his life. Now, the idea was rather appealing.
‘Well, no… But I just sort of assumed-’
‘Do you want to?’ Shoto suddenly blurted out, before he could stop himself.
Midoriya’s eyes widened.
‘Do I want to what?’
‘Kiss me. Do you want to kiss me?’ Shoto clarified, shuffling on his feet. Heat flooded to his cheeks and his stomach felt funny, but all he could focus on was the surprised look Midoriya flashed him, as he searched Shoto’s eyes questioningly.
‘Y- Yes...’ He stuttered out, taking a step closer.
Shoto mirrored the action.
'Good, because I want to as well.'
Izuku smiled at that and found Shoto's free hand, tentatively intertwining his fingers with his own calloused ones.
Shoto swallowed at the contact, familiarising himself with how much warmth such a small touch could radiate. 'Kiss me.' 
He watched as Midoriya drew closer, regarding him through heavy-lidded eyes as he reached up. Shoto felt the pad of a rough thumb stroke his cheek and immediately leant into the touch, eyelashes fluttering.
'With pleasure.' Midoriya's breath fanned against him and Shoto inhaled sharply when those wonderful lips finally met his own.
His flame burnt ever brighter and Shoto quickly extinguished it before it could grow out of control. When darkness surrounded them once more, he closed his eyes and allowed himself to be completely consumed by the feeling of slightly chapped lips pressing against his own. He had no idea what to do next, but when Midoriya opened his mouth and licked at the seam of his lips, Shoto eagerly parted them in response.
As they deepened the kiss, he let go of Midoriya's scarred hand and wrapped his arms around his waist instead, pulling him closer as his friend tangled his fingers in his hair. A slight tug at his roots had Shoto gasping into Midoriya's mouth.
Feeling bold, he snaked his hands under his friend's shirt and explored his toned torso with half-hot half-cold hands. The juxtaposition in temperature coaxed a string of moans from Midoriya, which sent shivers down Shoto's spine. Hoping to hear more of those wonderful noises, he proceeded to drag his nails down a freckled back, eliciting a guttural sound that he'd never heard from Midoriya before. However, it was quickly swallowed by another kiss.
When Shoto's hands eventually came to rest on his hips, Midoriya pushed him back until he hit the locked door with a thud.
'Fuck, Midoriya.' He barely had time to whisper before those lips were on him again. 
It was all moving so fast, but he didn't care. Shoto had gotten a taste of Midoriya and now he was addicted. He craved more and more.
'Is this okay?' His friend asked between each peck of lips.
'Mm, perfect.' Shoto bent forward to mouth at Midoriya's neck. He sucked at the sensitive skin there, not caring if he left a mark.
'This goes without saying, b- but I- ah!' Midoriya panted, tilting his head to give Shoto more access. 'But I really- really like you, Todoroki-kun.'
Shoto pulled off him with a pop and kissed a trail along his jaw, before his lips came to rest against Midoriya's own, their breath intermingling.
'I like you too, Midoriya.' He whispered, rubbing their lips together as his back rested against the door. 'So much.'
Their chests heaved in tandem as they kissed once more, simply enjoying the feel of one another. Touching and smelling and tasting. Shoto had never felt so at peace...
Then the door opened.
Shoto latched onto Midoriya out of reflex as the two of them fell backwards. Calloused hands scrambled to cradle the back of his head, cushioning him when they landed on the floor with a loud thud, and Shoto had to marvel at Midoriya's inherent instinct to protect.
'Todoroki-kun, are you okay? Are you hurt?' He pulled back and cupped Shoto's cheeks to check him over.
'I'm fine, Midoriya.' He reached up to cover his hands with his own and smiled softly.
'Good.' His friend leant back down to kiss him languidly, ignorant of their classmates around them, who were stifling giggles.
'Wow, get a room, guys.' Kaminari heckled.
'We had one actually.' Shoto pointed out as his hands wandered lower. He squeezed Midoriya's ass through his shorts unabashedly, relishing in the small squeak he let out, followed by the jeers from their peers. 'Not our fault you guys decided to interrupt.'
'Bro!'
'Disgusting!'
'Put them things back where they came from or so help me!'
'Stupid Deku and Icyhot!'
'That's one way to come out of the closet, Deku-kun.'
Midoriya giggled quietly at that. Shoto had no idea what Uraraka meant, but he didn't mind. Instead, he just smiled softly and looked up into verdant eyes filled with mirth.
Perfect.
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