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16 February 2005 @ 02:32 am
I could do with some distractions, right about now.  
So I'm going to list some last lines from my stories, and if anything moves you, you can write me a ficlet. It'll be fun, I promise.

For me, anyway.

She wonders what signs Buffy will leave behind.

Maybe he’d just been waiting for Ray to thaw out a little.

"Ray, do you ever have trouble sleeping?"

And neither of them would say anything. They wouldn't have to.

When he looks up, it´s snowing

He endures, and that´s no small thing, he tells himself. It´s no small thing.

And the clock ticks on, hands slipping future-ward as two men make love in the tilted room.

He never dies. Nightmares never do.

He smiles – it’s going to be a good spring after all.

“Jonah,” it says, “Jonah.”

And this is what *you* are like in the rain.

He never knew heartbreak was filled with such stillness.

The moon pushes its way up through the thick orange of the sunset, and Clark's happy –just as he is.

He stayed that way until mornings, eyes open. Unsteady under layers of blankets, watching sun rise – alone.

She puts down the top of her convertible, and presses her foot firmly on the accelerator, and doesn't think about anything as she drives toward Smallville -- as she drives toward home.

Lex pants at the ceiling and rolls over, alone in his bridal bed.

And if you're not up to doing that, that's cool. But you know, if you maybe wanted to say something like "Lindsey and Angel are SO HOT OMG" or "I <3 Ioan Gruffudd" or just anything positive that makes you smile, that'd be neat. I need to cheer up a little before I can even thinking about dealing with my day.
 
 
Current Mood: indescribableindescribable
Current Music: Strange Fruit-Billie Holiday-Billie Holiday
 
 
 
digitalwavedigitalwave on February 16th, 2005 10:50 pm (UTC)
Mid-Winter
He endures, and that´s no small thing, he tells himself. It´s no small thing. Easing out of bed he tries not to wake Martha. Clark's night was filled with nightmares again last night so none of them got much sleep. He wonders again, for the thousandth time, what kind of people stuff a baby in a closed, dark place? It's no wonder the little guy wakes up screaming.

Moving quietly down the hall he stops outside of his son's room. Peeking in the door, he sees him, small body curled in a knot in the center of the bed, clutching the bear Martha had sown for him out of two of their old shirts. It seems to be the only way he can rest, is with that bear or with one, or both of them.

Jon looks forward to the spring; Clark thrived in the summer months. Winter has been the worst, the darker the days the more he's slipped away from them. Like a flower, Clark seems to need the sun. So, for now, they'll get him through it. Hold him when it's bad and cuddle him close on the good days. He's a good boy, filled with love. Jon smiles, looking down at his son, it's not a chore, it's a privilege.
Sarahgiddyfangirl on February 17th, 2005 12:54 am (UTC)
Re: Mid-Winter
Awwwwwww. *melts*
pure FORESHADOWING: Bobcatitude!nifra_idril on February 17th, 2005 09:05 pm (UTC)
Re: Mid-Winter
Aww -- that's really sweet. I love when people love each other! *snugs you* It's so pretty! Thank you!