“The floor is lava…”, he whispered. Nobody heard him. And if they did they always chose to ignore him. “Hey! The floor…it’s…it’s lava”, he said a little louder. Amber gave him a quick glance then pretended he wasn’t there. It was like that one time he finally managed to confess to her in 9th grade. She had stared at him with a puzzled look on her face and then walked away without saying a single word. The next day he was as good as dead to her and her friends. He could still be in the same room as them but his presence got unacknowledged. “I am telling you! The floor is lava!” “Oh, fuck off, Jake”, said Amber. It was the first time Amber, let alone anyone, spoke to him since the death of his parents. A tear rolled over his cheek and was followed by a smile. “But but…”. “Listen to me Jake. The floor is lava, the sky is lava, the floor is my pussy…” (He could see Max picturing the latter in his mind’s eye), all of it.. just stop it, okay? This has been going on for days and nobody gives a damn. You are only making a fool of yourself Jake!“, she exclaimed. "Bet he wished the floor was your pussy”, howled Max. “Fucking loser." A smile appeared on Jake’s face. "See! Told you! He really wants the floor to be…” “Oh, shut up, Max!” Sweat started to drip from Jake’s forehead. He grinned. “The. Floor. Is. Lava.” 5…..4…..3….2….he jumped on his desk….1….and then watched Amber, Max and their friends being swallowed by the lava. Their screams music to his ears and the smell of their burning corpses something he would cherish forever. The same way he cherished that of his parents. “The floor is lava, bitch.”
I don’t think ‘want’ is the word. I guess I gotta try. My father told me once, he said, “If you see something wrong happening in the world, you can either do nothing, or you can do something. And I already tried nothing.
“What toothpaste brand do you like?” you asked as you walked down the aisle. You were too busy staring at the different brands of toothpaste in your hands to notice the person you were talking to wasn’t Hoseok.
“I like the one in your left hand” a strange voice responded.
Your head snapped up to look at the owner of the voice that didn’t belong Hoseok. As you took in his frame, he was definitely the complete opposite of the person you had mistaken him for.The boy in front of you was tall, muscular. His messy dark hair hidden beneath a beanie. He smiled at you and for a second you forgot how words worked, incapable of processing anything else that he was saying.
“I’m sorry, I thought you were my roommate” you nervously spat out as soon as you regained the ability to speak.
He laughed as the two of you stood awkwardly across from each other, “Don’t worry about it”
“Marco!” you heard Hoseok’s voice ring out through the otherwise quiet pharmacy.
“Polo” you responded as your cheeks flushed a million different shades of red as the boy’s face lit up even more. But you couldn’t get the nerve to look at him, avoiding eye contact by returning one of the tubes of toothpaste back onto the shelf you had taken it from. The sound of your rescue, Hoseok’s footsteps, got louder and louder as they filled the growing awkward silence between the two of you.
“Y/N, where have you been? I thought you got swallowed by a toothpaste monster or something” Hoseok teased as he walked up to the two of you.
Sam: As soon as you found out, you began plotting how you were going to tell him. Of course he noticed the slightly different things you did, resulting in him pestering you to see what’s wrong. After you told him the news he began prepping for the baby immediately. Regardless of the fact you two had nine months to get everything ready. Guess excitement overtakes people’s senses.
Dean: The minute-no the second you told Dean, he began to treat you as though you were going to explode. Taking junk food from you because “it could hurt the baby”. Not letting you lift anything. Barley even a book or glass of water. Once you started to show more and more he refused to hug you…or even sleep in the same bed with you once you further progressed because “what if I roll over onto you?”, even though he never had before. Luckily for you, once the baby was born he directed all that paranoid attention to the munchkin.
Castiel: It’s no surprise that he found out before you did. He was in a state of complete shock and awe from the second he heard a second heartbeat lingering inside of you. At first you thought it was cool or adorable how he could check in on you. That was until he was doing it every other hour to make sure nothing was wrong. It only got worse when the little being inside of you grew to be bigger. Any movement you made, or small noise at the feeling of a kick in your ribs, Cas had to give you the full examination. Sooner or later he realized that everything was going to be fine and he could stop worrying so much. That didn’t happen until a week before your due date.
Crowley: From the moment you told The Boy King about your little gift, he had a certain change in him. Whether he saw this as father redemption or was just filled with happiness, you couldn’t tell. The most overprotective he got during your pregnancy was not letting you leave Hell without him. Which was understandable, so you didn’t really put up a fight. Carrying the King of Hell’s child had its perks. Like food whenever you wanted it, and whatever you wanted. Anything you asked for, demons would scramble about trying to get it as quickly as possible. It was really something funny, watching them trip over their fear of not being fast enough. Of course your new little munchkins first outfit had “The prince/princess of Hell” labeled on it. That one you didn’t really have a say on.
Lucifer: It all started when he sat straight up in bed and just looked at you with furrowed eyebrows. Just when you thought your life couldn’t change anymore, it did. On so many levels. Honestly it was really weird knowing that all of Heaven and Hell knew you were with child before you even had a clue. The fact that you had Angels hell bent on killing you, but mainly the baby, didn’t really help with the whole pregnancy stress level chart. As if it wasn’t stressful enough having a human growing inside of you. But Luce was by your side 24/7. Always keeping the Angels or anything that meant to harm you far away. Somewhere between all the baby assassins and pregnancy hormones, the two of you still had time to have a somewhat normal upcoming. Anytime a kick or a movement was going to happen he knew. And he’d be right there to witness it.
Gabriel: Never had you thought that Gabe and his trickster tendencies would be something you would appreciate. That was until it came handy to have to help hide you from those who meant to cause your unborn child harm. Most of your pregnancy wasn’t spent fighting some war against those who intended to harm you. It was spent fighting another war over what the babies name would be. First idea Gabriel had was “Little Ass Kicker” because for some god awful reason that made sense. Obviously you weren’t about to call any child of yours that, but he was persistent. “What about Lak?” He would ask while you were just about to drift off to sleep. “Lak? The hell kind of name is-…it stands for Little Ass Kicker doesn’t it?” There was no way around it. He’d go to pretty lengthy extents trying to get you to say yes just once so it’d be official. Like rubbing your back for an hour. Or getting you a shit ton of the food you were craving. Long story short…you gave birth to a Little Ass Kicker…
“See? I told you he’d come when he saw us talking” she said, grinning like he had any idea of whatever her stupid plan was. “Dipper, this is Wirt, Wirt, this is a guy who finds you very nice to look at”
By this point every circuit in Dipper’s head had long since fried, and he only offered a hand to shake after Wendy subtly -but painfully- pinched his shoulder.
“Uh… Hello?” The guy -Wirt, he reminded himself- smiled. Why was his smile so lopsided and shy and cute? What the fuck. “Mind if I call you Dipper? The other name is a bit too long” he asked.
“You can call me whatever you like. I MEAN YES” What was wrong with his brain today? Was this guy actually supernatural and killing his neurones or something? “Yes, Dipper is my real name. Not that the other thing isn’t real of course, but it would be weird to call me that and- uh… Yes. Dipper”
It’s exam week and I am tired. Instead of coherent content, please enjoy this list of random dialogue that I currently have no context for:
Damian listened thoughtfully until Tim got to the end. “So basically we need your help. Any questions?”
“Yes,” Damian decided, after a few seconds of silence.
“When did I give you the impression that I cared?”
“Oh come on.”
“What was my mistake?”
“We’re on a timeline here.”
“No, really,” Damian asked, raising his hands in an exaggerated gesture of confusion. “Where did I go wrong?”
“I’m confused,” Duke told him. “Red Hood Jason or Trophy Case Jason?”
For some reason, Tim didn’t seem to understand the question. He pointed across the cave, to where Hood was sorting through medical supplies. “Jason.”
“So not the Robin that died.”
Tim pointed again, slower this time. “Jason.”
“That’s… the same person?”
“He didn’t actually die?”
“Oh boy,” said Tim, biting at his lip. “No, he was definitely dead.”
“Short-term. You really didn’t know?”
“It’s not an uncommon name?” Duke could hear the panic in his own voice, but he didn’t feel inclined to check it. “Why would I assume that one person… came back from the dead?? Instead of assuming there are two people named Jason?”
“Oh boy,” Tim repeated. He turned to Damian, who Duke suddenly noticed was smiling in a very unsettling sort of way. “You didn’t tell him?”
Damian shook his head. The smile became downright maniacal.
“Tell me what??”
“It’s a family meeting,” Dick told him. “You have to stay.”
Jason collapsed back into his armchair, glaring. “You know sometimes I think I never actually came back to life? I just died and went to hell.” He crossed his arms. “Because honestly? This could be hell.”
“Stop being dramatic.”
Jason threw him a look that clearly communicated ‘when hell freezes over’ in the most dramatic way possible, or at least that was the goal.
Dick turned away, rolling his eyes. He seemed to get the message. There, Jason thought. Nailed it. He felt better.
“What’s the holdup?” Tim asked, settling onto the couch next to Cass. “Something wrong?”
Dick shrugged. “Bruce says he has an announcement.”
“We have a new sibling?” Tim guessed.
“What? No.” Dick frowned, probably running the odds just to be sure. “Not that I’m aware of, anyway.”
“You had to think about it,” Tim noted, and then turned to face the door as Bruce finally made his entrance.
“I have an announcement.”
“We have a new sibling?”
“What?” Bruce asked. “No.” His eyes flicked upward for half a second, and then he continued, decisive. “No, you don’t.”
“See?” Tim asked. “He had to think about it.”
“I thought you were against this plan,” Duke said.
Damian nodded. “I am, but Todd and I reached an agreement.”
“Simple bet,” Damian confirmed. “If it works, I have to go to Drake’s birthday party, but if Todd dies again, I get to put ‘Damian told him so’ on his new headstone.”
“Oh,” Duke told him. “That sounds… fair.”
Damian leaned back against the wall, smirking. “I like my chances.”
At that point, Duke became pretty sure that the plan wasn’t going to work. He looked from Jason, up on the rooftop, to Damian, who was calmly punching numbers into his phone. “Uh. Shouldn’t we go help him?”
Damian raised a finger in a give-me-a-second kind of gesture while he put his phone to his ear. “Hello, Elliot Funeral Home? How much do you charge for gravestones? Midrange. I see. Very reasonable.”
“Fine,” Damian sighed. “Thank you,” he told his phone. “I’ll be in touch.”
based on a dream I had, I present: a short semi-fic about Jack and Shitty and their day-long, beautiful relationship.
Basically, this is what happens:
At a kegster during their freshmen year, in which Shitty is running around being the life of the party even though he’s a freshman, Jack is also in attendance– talking to Berger and Marsh in the kitchen. Jack is there, partly to keep an eye on Shitty, partly because he is surprised by how much he does like some of the guys on his team, mostly because they had won today and Jack is in quite a good mood. Not a good enough mood that he is going to risk going into the living room where music is blasting, but in a good enough mood that he is holding a solo cup of beer and chilling in the kitchen, chatting with Berger and Marsh. He is at ease as Jack ever is– laughing good naturedly as they tease both him and each other and of course, this is when the trouble starts.
The trouble is this: Marsh is drunk and excited that Jack has actually shown up to a Haus kegster and since Jack seems to be in a good mood, Marsh decides to take a risk and ask Jack a Question. More specifically, Marsh rams an friendly elbow into Jack’s ribs and goes:
“Yo, Zimmermann, you like anyone on campus yet?”
A few months prior, that question would have made Jack freeze up. But now, Jack smiles easily (because honestly, it is a rather respectful question– “like” instead of “fuck”; “anyone” instead of assuming “girl”) and he certainly doesn’t want to get into his romantic history or lack of crushes so he smiles, shrugs, and says
“Nah, love’s shitty,” It’s still friendly and he smiles and asks Berg about his crush that the whole team knows about and that should be that.
The problem, however, is that what Alex Berger and Carter Marsh heard was not “Nah, love’s shitty,” but “I’m in love with Shitty.”
Summary: “Well, it’s my last day home.” He said, stating the obvious as you came closer to him. You nodded, silently urging him to continue before he bent over and picked a box up off of the ground which you didn’t even look at. Your eyes were too focused on his face as he continued to smirk, “I just want to remember it, that’s all.”