jeannie_bean137

Writer's Block: Meaningful Words

2008-03-16T05:42:28Z

What is your favorite quote? And why?

"The opposite of love is not hate but indifference."

This quote helped me get through a pretty nasty breakup because it really is true and all the weeks he hated me I just kept that in mind.

Writer's Block: Sticks and Stones

2008-02-26T04:39:55Z

Something along the lines of: I hope that your parents die and don't leave a will so when you get cancer you can't afford chemotherapy and you die...

Lord Of The Flies Rant

2006-08-23T02:53:12Z

I shouldn't read Lord of the Flies right before I get to bed. I don't need images of bleeding pigs and gutsy heads with flies all over them before I sleep. But honestly it's one of those stupid books that makes you think. I kind of hate that the teachers know that I am going to ponder about human nature after I read it. I'm so predictable.

Anywayz, so the basic premise of the book is that while on a deserted island these boys slowly turn into savages and discover that the beast they are fearing is not from an external source but from within themselves. The author obviously had a problem with the human race because he is all "We all have evil inside that makes us want to kill and hurt and control and have power and mostly kill."

So is he right? Is the need to murder and have violence in *all* of us even children? Is is something imbedded in our DNA? Is it something so primitive like human nature that we cannot deny it? If so then what exactly is stopping us from going out a murdering every person we see? Is a conscience and guilt also part of our systems? Or is it something we have learned from being on the earth not something we were born with? Did God just create us with these instincts just to watch us flail around and kill eachother?

Did cavemen feel bad about killing those wolly mammoths? Did they feel love just as much as hate? Did compassion exist back then or did it slowly develop? If there is something in us that is evil then could there very well be something good in us as well? Something that makes us love and care for one another. There are people that beat there children. And it's horrible and unjust and sick and just...evil. There is no denying that. But there is also the love between a parent and child that even goes against the instinct to protect yourself first. Some women would die for their children. There *is* good in us. The mood I was in in my last post felt so sweet and just pure happiness. Could evil not exist in moments of pure innocent joy?

Also, if it is part of human nature to be cruel and violent then what the hell does the word "humane" mean? Does the "Humane Society" kill animals like they did in the book? I don't think so. Humanity is always seen as a good thing. We people have it in our heads that we are good and so are out intentions, but did we ever think that maybe to be "human" isn't a compliment? Should they be the "Anti-Humane" society?

The real question is not "Is there evil in us?" or "Is there good?" but "Just how much of each and can they be controlled?"

Damned book with it's cryptic meanings and symbolism. Now I'm never going to get to bed. *shakes fist at air*

And like anyone is going to read all of this anyway...besides myself.

jeannie_bean137 @ 2006-08-21T19:54:00

2006-08-22T03:13:30Z

Title: Through the Pain
Author: Jeannie_bean137
Pairing/Character: Dick/Mac
Word Count: A bit more than 3,000
Rating: Umm R for a bit of language
Summary: Dick has a migraine and the only one around the help is Mac.
Spoilers: 2x22
Disclaimer: I do not own Veronica Mars and credit for the Agent Scully line goes to the movie "Drive Me Crazy."
A/N: My second Mac/Dick fic and I swear these are addicting. Also, this is dedicated to anyone who has ever had a migraine. Because, damn, they suck. And thanks to north15 for the awesome Beta job.

"So tell me honestly. Agent Scully or Gillian Anderson?" Dick muttered between bits of popcorn and M&M's. He wasn't much of a phone conversation person, but Logan had been gone for a week with Veronica to New York and things were getting pretty dull.

Though Veronica huffed obnoxiously on the other end of the line, Logan continued the conversation. "Even though they're the same person and I think you've been watching way too much television, I'll humor you. Let's see, flaky, self-absorbed actress or a gun-toting, badass FBI agent with years of pent-up sexual tension? No contest."

"What I wouldn't do to Scully," Dick said dreamily. A shiny dot had appeared in the left corner of his vision, but he chose to ignore it. Maybe it'd go away.
"I'm sure she's been drooled on before. Hey man I gotta go. Veronica just got a call from her dad. Maybe he'll actually explain why he wasn't at the airport this time."

The shimmering colors and patterns would have been beautiful under any other circumstances, had he not known what they meant. "Fuck. Wait Logan."

"What? What's wrong?" A serious tone had edged into his voice.

Dick shook his head disbelievingly until his shaggy blond hair covered his face. "Shit. I haven't had one of these in forever. I'd thought they'd stopped." His strangled laugh turned into a tiny whimper at the end. "I'm having a migraine."

"Damn, Dick. Why did you have to fall apart after I left?" Logan had been witness to the many times one of his best friends had to be taken away from the playground or from school. One time he had stopped by the Casablancas' estate and could even hear the shouts of pain from the front door, two stories down. During high school they'd gotten so few and far between that everyone assumed they'd stopped. He guessed they were wrong. "There's some Excedrin PM in the cupboard."

The spot had grown until it was covering his entire left side of vision. A sick feeling started in his stomach. He didn't know what was worse: getting a warning and knowing you were going to be facing pain soon or just having it sprung upon you. "I can't see my hand let alone find my way through those damned complicated hotel cupboards."

"Well what do you want me to do Dick? I'm 3,000 miles away." This was the first time he'd gotten one and been completely alone. The thought of not having anyone by his bedside to make him toast and hold his hand was dizzying. You're not a child anymore. You can handle this on your own. But when his left arm started to go numb, any pride he had left was washed away.

"Can...Can you call someone?" He hated to hear the weakness in his own voice. He thought carefully through his actions during the day. Eat breakfast? Check. Get 8 hours of sleep? Check. Avoid bacon and turkey at all costs? Check. He had been almost obsessive in his early teens with figuring out what he'd done wrong to cause the headache this time. It was always the little things, little slip-ups that could cost him the entire day.

"Just lay down and I'll try to get a hold of someone." When had his best friend become his mother? Oh yeah when his own flew off to enjoy the easy life in Europe.
"Thanks man and tell 'em to hurry." The phone was flung across the room along with his shirt and shoes. Dick fell face first into his bed and closed his eyes tightly. Why did life always have to kick him when he was down?

----

"No."

"Mac, please. Logan won't stop freaking out about Dick. He thinks he's going to swallow a whole bottle of pills or something."

How did Veronica get her into these things? And why did it have to be Dick? It couldn't be Logan or Wallace in trouble or someone she could actually tolerate? "Can't Wallace take care of him?"

A cab sounded in the background of Veronica's words. "He's at basketball camp. I'm sorry about asking you to do this, and I swear I wouldn't if Logan didn't think it was completely necessary. I would have no problem leaving him to suffer." A muffled sound could be heard over the speaker then Logan's voice replaced Veronica's.

"Mac, I know you don't like him, but he's been doing some pretty stupid things since....you know and a migraine could be just the thing to push him over the edge," he sounded genuinely worried. "And we're coming home tomorrow morning anyway." Damn Logan and his manipulating ways. Maybe that's how he got Veronica to date him again.

Just for an hour. Just for an hour. I'll make sure he's okay and then I'll leave. I don't need another death on my hands. There will be rules, though, like no communication whatsoever.

"I'll check on him and stay for a while, but after that you so owe me. I'm not talking doing a favor, I'm talking computer equipment. Expensive computer equipment and lots of it." He laughed, thanked her sincerely and said goodbye. What am I getting myself into?

The trip seemed to take days though Mac only had to drive five miles to The Neptune Grand. Her decision plagued her. It seemed as though by agreeing to care for Dick she was admitting she actually gave a damn about him. And why in the world would she? He was the brother of the boy that had broken her heart. Was that the reason for caring or the reason she should hate him?

The only connection she had to Cassidy, the sweet brown eyed boy she'd once known, was through Dick. He was the only one that didn't pretend her first love never existed or that only saw him as a killer. He was the only one that knew what it was like to hate someone and miss them at the same time. Mac desperately didn't want to forget the person Cassidy once was and being around the one person that loved him as much as she did may just prevent that.

----

Migraines were torture. Alone they were hell. The pain didn't start until about a half an hour into the ordeal, but the promise of them was just as bad. With his eyes closed and body curled tightly against the headboard above his bed, he did not hear at first when his nurse came in.

Keys slammed against the table in the living room and cupboards opened and closed without mercy. "Who is it?" he shouted then cringed when the first bit of pressure was applied to his eyebrow. He dared open his eyes to find half a slightly irritated face staring back at him. Even with the fog he could still see Mac's bright pink hair, and he suddenly reached to fix his own.

"Don't bother. Even if you fix your hair you still have pillow marks all over your cheek." He smiled just to hear someone else's voice. It didn't matter that it was her...or so he tried to convince himself. "I hear you have to take these." She held out two blue pills and a glass of water. He groped around a moment for her hand before she helped him out. Her eyes went anywhere but to his bare, tan chest. Though he was weak, heat still radiated off his skin in waves. She shook her head fiercely to rid her mind of his cologne before speaking "Now will you explain what's wrong with you?"

He pointed to his head a mouthed "migraine" before pressing his palm to his forehead. She inched toward the door "Now I've done my job. I'll let you get some rest." She hadn't even thought him capable of such quick movements in this state, but suddenly his hand was around her first three fingers holding her in place. Each knuckle was calloused from surfing and the contact sent a jolt of adrenaline straight to her belly. His eyes were pleading with her to stay, and though her mind was telling her the opposite, her heart was proving quite a formidable opponent.

"How can I possibly help? I can't make it all go away," the blue depths that were staring back at her understood the different meaning in her words in a way no one else possibly could. Why did I bother coming? All I'm doing is just opening up old wounds. Her voice constricted around the words. "It hurts and there's nothing either of us can do to stop it. I don't how long it will last and...if it'll get less painful in the meantime." She wiped at her face in one quick fluid motion hoping he hadn't seen the tear in her eye.

He broke eye contact and stared at their joined hands. "Can you please just distract me? Just stay and talk until the pain goes away? I know it will eventually...it has to right?" His voice faltered with desperation and he gave her hand a little tug. The headache would definitely stop eventually, but other types of pain could haunt them forever.

For twenty seconds she stood, deciding. Had Cassidy's death changed him that much? Could he be a good person and not act stupidly without regard to others? If she opened up and they dealt with this together could she trust him? Another tug on her hand and all questions were forgotten as she sat on the edge of the bed.
"So when did these headaches start?"

A little hiss of relief escaped his lips and he settled back against the pillows. "Do you really want to know?" Her eyebrow creased skeptically so he shrugged. "I was in 5th grade and we were reading 'The Hatchet' when the first dot came. I thought I was going blind, but it was like a warning for the migraine." He chuckled and shook his head. The second wave of pain hit him so he kept his neck bent. "These things are some twisted shit. Whoever thought head pain could make you throw up or not be able to feel your hand?" Dick slowly raised his left arm "Hit it I dare you. I won't feel a thing."

Mac merely pushed it slowly back to the bed and squeezed the arm he could feel. "So how do you make them stop?" She hoped against hope that talking wasn't making it worse. Though his eyes weren't open she could still guess his condition from the bead of sweat that had formed along his upper lip and his tightly clenched jaw.

"Not really much I can do. Just take some medicine and wait it out. If they aren't too bad or if the meds work I can fall asleep to make it easier." Mac adjusted herself on the bed to be more comfortable as a constant pressure built against his skull. "So you got any mysterious medical ailments I should know about?"

As she explained about her childhood asthma he relaxed a bit, though still showed signs of awareness. It was strange to talk to him so casually under these circumstances. Every once in a while he would bite his lip and groan but still urge her to continue as if he was genuinely interested.

She had just finished her story when suddenly Dick arched back against the bed. He was tossing and trying not to scream as another fierce wave crashed against him. It was as if someone's fingers were digging in and trying to pry his brain apart.

Mac would never admit it, she was supposed to be the strong one here, but she was scared. He looked so fragile, surely one more strong stab of pain would be the end of him. Yet no matter how hard he gripped the bedspread, he never held her hand firmly enough to hurt. She wanted so badly to stop anything that hurt him.

Mac had spent enough time sitting by idly as things fell to pieces. "I'll be right back," she muttered and sprinted to the kitchen. She returned with a cloth and a bowl of cool water.

"I...I thought you'd left me," he said through ragged breaths. She simply smoothed down his hair and brought the cloth to his forehead in response.

"Shhh...Shut up now. You wanted me to take care of you and that's what I'm going to do."

------

It took two mediocre renditions of "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star", a whole bowl of water, and three bathroom visits before Dick drifted off to sleep. Mac was exhausted as well. Not so much psychically, but mentally. It was difficult to see someone go through that much suffering and not be able to really help.

The sweat had long since evaporated on his warm skin and the tension on his face had been erased. The peacefulness was a stark contrast to the fits of agony he'd experienced earlier. Thank God it's over. Mac's hand was still gripped in his and oddly enough, she had no desire to let go. She didn't want him to wake up alone and disoriented. After all, what if the migraine came back?

Sleep was calling as well as the soft mattress beneath her thigh. The space between Dick's body and the edge of the bed was large enough for her to settle into. Temptation won over. And before she could really think about what affect her decision might have in the morning, her head was cradled between Dick's arm and the soft pillow. His calm face was so close she could feel him breathing and hear his heart beating inches away from her own. Even as sleep engulfed her, she was acutely aware of her own hand in his.

----

Waking up with Mac sleeping soundly next to him wasn't something he'd expected, but it was far from something he'd wish against. Though his instincts told him to enjoy the moment, her hair was soft and smelt like strawberries, his stomach and Logan and Veronica's impending arrival spoke otherwise. "Mackie," he whispered softly until she finally stirred.

Her body stretched out like a cat's, and Dick found it difficult to look away as her shirt inched up over her stomach and a smile of contentment came over her face. Her eyes opened hazily and the brief eye contact they shared left little butterflies in Dick's stomach. Realization finally hit as she gazed at him and in a flash she was up and into the master bathroom. The comfortable atmosphere they'd enjoyed that night seemed to go with her for the moment.

Dick still felt dizzy if he got up too quickly, but overall it was a vast improvement. So much so he decided to attempt breakfast, but unfortunately all the food two teenage boys in a hotel room had was beer and chips. Mac came out of the bathroom just as the room service arrived. Her hair was brushed and all the sleep had been washed from her eyes.

"I um...figured you might be hungry."

"I guess that brain is functioning again, well as much as it did before, because you figured right." She sat down at the table in the kitchen and he tried not to show just how happy he was that she didn't leave. The domestic feel of eating breakfast with her was shocking, yet comforting. It was a strange concept, having someone there for you. He definitely wouldn't mind waking up to her feline-like stretches every morning and hearing her snark at him while getting ready for the day.

While he loaded the empty dishes onto the serving cart she made his cupboards more handicapped-friendly. The Excedrin could now be found right on top of the microwave and the cloth and bowl she had used in a drawer just to the left of that.

The morning was slipping away and Dick was running out of excuses. Mac had already packed up her purse and was looking for her keys. He bent over and picked them up from where he'd seen them near the couch. The metal was cool against his flushed skin. "Here," he muttered quietly and offered the ring of keys to her. After her fingers grazed his own they ended up at the door, standing somewhat awkwardly as she pondered what to say upon her exit.

"I'm um...glad you came," Dick muttered. He was still a bit embarrassed by his child-like behavior.

"Yeah maybe next time we hang out you can not be medicated." Relief flooded his chest, and Mac's smile showed she was genuinely looking forward to being around him again. He was never very good at this kind of thing, but he felt a sudden strong urge to thank her for everything she'd done. If she hadn't showed up at his door and played nurse things could have been so much worse.

Instinct took over and Dick brought his lips to the slightly open corner of her mouth. Mac let out a small yelp, but didn't pull away as he took a few seconds to enjoy the feel of her soft lips. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears as realization of what he was doing finally clicked into place. Oh god, she was Cassidy's girlfriend. Yet, as her sweet perfume enveloped him, he couldn't help but think that their history shouldn't matter. That this was a moment in the present and whatever was between them now was something that their sordid past shouldn't have an effect on. Time slowed to a crawl as he pulled away and saw shock and possibly happiness reflected in her eyes.

"See you around."

Mac took a sharp intake of breath, as if she had been woken from a dream, and nodded. Her retreating form entered the elevator, but the sense of loss that Dick felt was nothing to what he had expected. As the doors closed, memories of her holding his hand and sleeping next to him flashed through his mind. It was strange and a bit twisted to fall for your deceased brother's girlfriend, but there was no denying that they had some kind of relationship now. It excited Dick like nothing had since Cassidy's death.

He had no idea how they would act towards one another in public now or if she would even pretend things were exactly the same, but no matter what happened next in this screwed up relationship they would always have that night.

Mac/Dick Music Video

2006-08-17T08:41:21Z

Band/Song: Alana Grace, Black Roses Red
Epsiodes: All
Link/Size: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TsxAoL2hyRo
Yousendit (17MB): http://www.yousendit.com/transfer.php?action=download&ufid=E6B226D262708C9A
Notes: This my second Mac/Dick video. The idea is that after certain events in 2x22 Mac and Dick feel empty, hopeless, and have lost faith in love and people. With eachother's help maybe they can regain those things.
Sample Lyrics:
As twisted as it seems
I only fear love when it's in my dreams
So let in the morning light
And let the darkness fade away
Can you turn my black roses red?

Also, finding clips of Dick looking serious is a pain in the ass. I look forward to season 2. And I'm kinda obsessing over MaDi right now :)

First Fic Post

2006-08-15T03:15:25Z

I've decided I'm going to keep up with my journal now and post my fics.

Title: Weakness?
Pairing/Character: Mac, Dick
Word Count: 1838
Rating: PG-13
Summary: She knew it was wrong. It was wrong to find solace in the slow deep breathing of someone you are supposed to despise. It was wrong to feel so comfortable with Cassidy's brother. But that didn't mean she had any intention of leaving.
Spoilers: Through 2x22
Warnings: If you are offended by underaged drinking then stay away.

Mac hadn’t cried since the night at The Grand. She wasn’t sure if that was something to be proud of or ashamed by. Her eyes and mind were frozen and numb, and she couldn’t imagine the effort it would take to bring forth tears. People told her to let it all out and release her sadness and anger. “Just have a good cry sweetheart,” yet somehow that wasn’t the answer. Forcing any thoughts of Cassidy to the back of her mind was the only strategy that made the feelings go away...if only for a little while.

With the police questioning you, it wasn’t easy to forget. Every time she had succeeded in not thinking about him for a whole hour she was called in for follow up interviews. It was a mindless drone to her now.

“No I did not hear Cassidy mention anything about the bus while we were dating. No he didn’t show suicidal tendencies. No he never mentioned any knowledge of explosives. I was in the room the whole time. I didn’t hear any gunshots in the shower. Cassidy never hurt me.”

It was a torturous endless cycle that she figured Lamb was quite enjoying. After hours in the small confinement of the interrogation room the late afternoon sunlight was blinding. An image flashed before her mind of days when she would sit out on her porch with a book soaking in the heat of the sun swimming around her. Now she almost ran to the comfort of her dark car.

It’s funny how the exact things (or people) you’re trying to avoid always seem to be everywhere. So it wasn’t much of a surprise to Mac when she ran with her head down past her own car and right into the door of Dick Casablancas’ red truck. He jumped, obviously startled by her intrusion on his thoughts, yet didn’t tell her to go away like she’d expected.

All the reasons he would have made the perfect person to talk to about her conflicting emotions about Cassidy also made him the last person she would. He was just as close to him as she had been and represented exactly what she didn’t want to be. Mac had heard news stories of his downward spiral and prayed she wouldn’t end up the same way. He was everything worth trying to run away from. Dick’s face couldn’t be seen without the accompanying flood of memories of his brother’s smile and laugh and she could do without the negative influence.

Despite all the obvious reasons not to, when he made the small gesture of unlocking the doors of his car, she opened the door and got in. What exactly she was getting herself into she couldn’t be sure.

They didn’t talk for quite some time. Mac had a feeling he was just as sick of questions as she was. So as much as she wanted to know why he hadn’t turned her away she didn’t pry.

It was a rare opportunity to look him over, examine the dark circles lining his eyes the scruff forming just along his strong chin. The eyes that had been so full of life and mischief had dimmed to a stormy dark blue. A shaky hand held his favorite silver flask and every minute or so he’d take a desperate gulp as if he couldn’t stand even a second of clear thought. Mac felt a wave of hatred toward Cassidy surge through her unlike even the one she’d experienced after finding her clothes missing.

Thanks, look what you’ve left of us.

Dick had noticed her right hand gripping the door handle so tightly her knuckles were white and held out the flask. A crossroad appeared in her mind. The thoughts and emotions churning throughout her conscious seemed to urge her to accept the offering and enjoy some freedom for a while. It wasn’t right. It was the weak thing to do. He was everything she didn’t want to be.......

Within the next twenty minutes they had finished both the flask and the small bottle of Vodka Dick kept under his seat. It was a blissful state of mind. The colors swirled and danced and she learned that it was much easier to suppress emotions while under the influence. Dick had the right idea. The small smile that grazed his lips when she attempted to turn on the radio (with no avail) would be reward enough for the hangover she would have tomorrow.

“This helps,” she muttered and he nodded knowingly. His hair looked so soft and layered with shine it was difficult to resist the urge to touch it. So she did. Impulses were fast becoming irresistible. Though it hadn’t been washed often it was just like she’d expected. It went smoothly through her fingers and left little tingles throughout her hand.

He just stared and didn’t ask questions. She wasn’t sure she could’ve answered them if he had.

An officer knocked on Dick’s window and motioned a thumb to the exit of the lot. They’d been parked for almost an hour. Mac recognized the man as the one that had looked at her with such pity the first day they brought her in she nearly threw up. She had told him with more than a hint of malice he had a bit of bagel in his mustache and he’d never looked at her again. Being ignored was better than receiving sympathy.

“We have to leave.” Dick muttered. He gave a small laugh “This should be fun.”

He only got as far as the nearest fast food restaurant from the sheriff’s department before he gave a sigh of defeat and parked as far from the entrance as possible.

“I thought you would have mastered drunk driving by now.”

He shoved hard against the seat suddenly and was thrown backwards. Over the sound of it cranking into a lounging position his voice reached her ears. “Not with passengers.” Mac convinced herself it was not a sign of affection but a common courtesy not to risk someone’s safety to get home.

The Pizza Hut sign seemed almost ominous in the still darkness now around them. Everything outside the safety of the vehicle was dangerous, complicated, and entirely a façade of deception and lies. Right now all that existed was Mac, Dick, and the smooth leather interior of a truck too form-fitting for its own good.

She knew it was wrong. It was wrong to mimic his reclining position and enjoy lying next to him and staring up at the roof of the truck. It was wrong to play along with his charade that you had no way home though there were cabs everywhere in the town. It was wrong to find solace in the slow deep breathing of someone you are supposed to despise. It was wrong to feel so comfortable with your dead boyfriend’s brother.

That didn’t mean she had any intention of leaving.

Neither had the energy for tension or awkwardness. As soon as the opportunity to let their walls down presented itself both had taken it with minimal hesitation. Suddenly a lump in her throat was growing and suffocating her. It was as if a hand was clenched tightly around her heart leaving her dizzy with emotion. The feeling was foreign in the midst of the coldness since Cassidy’s death.

This is what I get for letting down my guard for one day. I end up a crying fool. Don’t be stupid. You are in a completely comfortable situation and you are going to ruin it by being weird and dramatic.

The tears were hotter than she remembered them ever being. Salt stung her cracked lips and stuck to her cheeks. Even with her face tucked against the crook of her arm the embarrassment still burned. Crying was pathetic and weak. She didn’t want to be weak because weakness leads to desperate acts like suicide. Don’t let me be weak like him.

A warm soft hand engulfed Mac’s as it lay motionless on the center console. A jolt passed through her so intense it made her reveal her tear stained face. Dick, jackass, self- absorbed Dick, was holding her hand and running his thumb lightly over her knuckle. He looked up with reassurance in his eyes and shrugged. Just shrugged nonchalantly as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Impulse can be a strange thing.

“I won’t look,” he said and closed his eyes. It was the first time she had allowed herself to enjoy the freedom and release of crying in years.

Mac awoke to the beating of the sun down on her face and of a security guards fist against the window. It would have been sweet to say that he had held her hand all through the night, but as always that wasn’t how things happened. Dick laid facing towards her with his face stuck against the seat and groaning from the thumping sound. His hair was a matted mess so she smoothed it down gently before he opened his eyes and faced the man. The muffled voice shouted for them to leave the premises if they were not customers.

“People suck,” Dick said and flashed the man an innocent albeit exaggerated grin. It took some time but eventually they pulled out of the lot and made their way back to their lives. Civilization seemed to destroy the comfortable understanding little world they had back at the Pizza Hut.

Mac was surprised at his lack of derogatory comments as she directed him towards her house, but that did nothing to ease the empty feeling rising in her chest. Even as he pulled up to her familiar house and yard it felt like a goodbye. As if as soon as she left this truck the world would right itself again and Dick would be his usual self.

He snapped in front of her face. “GW you still there?”

“GW? Because Ghost World was so hard to say you needed to shorten it even more?” She smirked and saw her mother emerge from the house out of the corner of her eye. Another “mother daughter discussion” would probably be in order after this adventure. She grabbed her purse, but still didn’t touch the door.

“So same time next week?” He held up the flask quickly so her mother wouldn’t see then reached across and pulled the handle. Things may never be as simple as they were on the first night they ever spent in each other’s company, but with that simple reassurance there was hope. Hope that things wouldn’t be as bad as they had been before and hope that this new Dick might just stick around.

“If you haven’t drank it all by then.” A slam and a smile and he was off. Her mother’s voice was quickly tuned out to be worried about another time. For now she basked in the realization that embracing vulnerability for a little while may make you stronger in the end.

A/N: My first Mac/Dick fic and although I'm worried about post finale-Dick being in character I'm pretty proud of it.

The "villian" of Veronica Mars

2006-05-14T03:45:33Z

I wish the villian would have been....

Easier to hate. I mean last year Aaron was just pure evil. He had no real reasons and no non-fake good side. We could hate him and hope he went to jail and not write AU fics where he isn't bad because he was just oozing evil. Now with the whole Beaver thing...he's just so multilayered and so....un-hateable. I'm sure a lot of people will disagree with me and say he's a pathetic murderous pervert who deserved to die and a big part of me thinks that too. But on the other hand he's a helpless but smart little boy who got his innocence taken from him and resorted to murder in desperation to hide his disgrace. He was beaten down and torn apart and ignored by his father, brother, classmates, mother...etc. etc. He could have been a great and loveable person. It doesn't justify what he did but it makes you feel so bad for him and almost wish his actions were justifiable. I loved Cassidy and his line of "My Name Is Cassidy!" just broke my heart into a million little peices. Never. Ever did I feel that way about Aaron. This time around things aren't just black and white and Cassidy is covered in shades of grey.

Thoughts?

Anyone else wish we'd learned more?

2006-05-06T01:51:44Z

Is anyone else just a tad disappointed with the last episode?

It was brilliant on an emotional level. It made me want to scream and cry and yell right along with Keith and Veronica. I can't deny that, but as important as Aaron's case was, I would have been more satisfied if they gave us more clues to the bus crash mystery. I (and many other people) have had the Woody is a child molester theory ever since the touchy-feely Logan moment (not that you could blame him I mean have you seen Jason's arms??). I know that they had to have a whole lead in thing where they had to slowly discover that there was an e-mail, it was Peter's voice, the person with the video camera panned along the baseball photos, etc. etc. but if it was that obvious to the viewer than the wirters should have found a way to reveal it to us earlier. This only gave us another suspect and another possible red herring. I mean last 21st episode we got the discovery of the all knowing creepy cameras which no one could have predicted. I guess I was expected something like that. Am I being too picky?

jeannie_bean137 @ 2006-03-20T20:07:00

2006-03-21T04:06:59Z

My friends always wonder why I'm obsessed with faerie (or however you want to spell it) lore and I hope this can help express why mystical things like that appeal to me and so many people....

Fairy
She fits in the palm of my hand
Everything I wish to be in such
A tiny grain of sparkling sand
She makes it seem so easy when it’s so much

Her hair is dazzling red
Almond shaped emeralds shining through
Mesmerizing all those around her away from dread
Head always held high and true

Never hesitant she speaks her mind
And her angelic voice carries for miles
Spreading words of faith beyond her own kind
With confidence and courage in her trials

She cries tears of glass
Always pure and worth every drop
Never wasted on self pity or loneliness
But on desperation and loses she wants to stop

She has her life planned from start to finish
Yet somehow manages to spend hours for fun
She’s fueled by fire that can never diminish
Unlike others who are fueled by envy of someone

I know she's something I’ll never be near
As she hovers gracefully above the dance floor
But as long as I keep her here
I'll know perfection is more than just faerie lore

Why Do They Hide?

They hide in the shadows
Little dancing beads of light
They wish to join us
Wish to dance among us
Not hidden any longer
But they can’t because they gift us
Every emotion we possess is a life altering present
Without them we’d be empty shells
Anger is her own, Joy is her own, Envy is her own
Love is her own, Sad is her own, Passion is her very own,
Everything we express is inspired
By those who hide from us in their own world
Is it out of fear?
No, they fear no one
Anyone that expresses hate
They can be easily manipulated against such thoughts
No, as much as they wish to reach out to us
They don’t want to become us
Everything they are is pure
Untouched, uninfluenced, unchanged, real
That is what they are and wish to remain
That is what separates them from us
In all their radiance, understanding, beauty, and elegance
With all their grace, intelligence, and unadulterated emotion
They are perfect and so very very un-human
Time has shown that though their influence is great
Our negative unnatural one is greater
If we were to know them, see them
Then they would become one of us
Then there would be no point, no cause
No more little protectors, guardians, givers of emotions
They’d have no reason to live
And as empty as we’d be without them
Neither would we

Not my best sorry....

jeannie_bean137 @ 2006-03-19T00:33:00

2006-03-19T08:33:15Z

Hi, random poem... enjoy.

What exactly had tied him down after the second time his heart had been ripped out? Something inside him told him that, oddly enough, it was the pain. Every time he drove by The Beach, where their relationship had finally crashed among the rocks, there was this fiery pain somewhere in his chest that gave him the energy, passionate jealousy, and hate that kept him going. It was inspiration enough to tease her, torture her and kept his mind off her budding love with his now ex-best friend and his own devastation. But what had changed? Now that he'd seen her crying over some sort of grief that he'd caused by staying around there was still pain, but it wasn't burning nor inspiring. It was freezing cold and harrowing. The guilt and aching loneliness was eating away at him like a huge hole in his gut. It wasn't fun anymore. She was right. He should just leave. The last lifeline he had was severed and if he stayed he would just be drifting aimlessly. He handed the woman his ticket and boarded the plane. Once they had lifted off, he discovered that if he closed his eyes tight enough and turned his headphones up high enough he couldn’t see her shining blue eyes bearing through him and her lips next to his ear, gently grazing it and sending shivers down his spine, whispering from what seemed so long ago “I love you. I need you. Please don’t ever leave me.”

I'm Still Here- Johnny Rzeznik

2005-11-14T05:16:55Z

Title: Logan Tribute
Vidder: Jeannie_Bean137
Band: Johnny Rzeznik (the lead singer of The Goo Goo Dolls in case you didn't know)
Size: 27.5
Spoilers: Season 1 and up to 2x06
Summary: This is a tribute to the wonderful Logan. It shows his best moments, worst moments, low points, high points, snarkiness, sweetness and all the things we love about him. It focuses a lot on his relationships with the people around him such as Veronica, Aaron, Dick, Weevil, Duncan, a bit of Kendall, and the cops.

Lyrics:
"And how can the world want me to change?,
They’re the ones that stay the same.
They can’t see me,
But I’m still here."

File Factory: http://www.filefactory.com/get/f.php?f=913ff83902eef2959674f8c0