13 Works by moonkistforlife
Listing Works
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Jane Crocker and John Egbert work together to complete some odd jobs. This is a small recounting of their adventures.
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Jane Crocker on New Years Eve.
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Being Mituna Captor.
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A friendship fic.
Dave's brother dies. Jane finds him in the apartment, alone, and broken. -
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Your name is Jane Crocker, and today you are spending time with your best friends Dirk Strider and Jake English. It is an ordinary day at the mall, just teens hanging out, Roxy at home, quarantined by her mother. You wish she were here, but you kind of think maybe this is a good thing. Maybe this is a thing you need to tackle by yourself.
You take a deep breath, and hop out of the car, waving to Dad as he leaves the parking lot and turning to face two of your best guy friends.
Guy friends who just happen to also be boyfriends.
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Alternate-Universe, NOT Virusstuck, simply an AU in which zombies have taken over. Drabble, written for a friend of mine at 4am.
- Words:
- 1,420
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 8
- Hits:
- 192
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"If this is a dream, I want to sleep forever."
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What matters today is not what they are thinking, saying or hearing, but what they are feeling.
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“The amount of agony you cause me on a daily basis is directly proportional to the amount of times you say the words “Nic Cage”, “Windy Thing” and do that really awful whiny thing with your voice.”
"I love you too, Dave."
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Dave is the New Kid at Washington Academy for Boys, a 6-12 grade program complete with one gender, one uniform, and two vicious kids who could not stand to be in the same room with each other for more than ten minutes without trading insults for practical jokes that were on the mean spirited side.
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Every time I leave, I feel as though I have forgotten something. By the time I realize this, it is too late to go back, so I continue on with this weight on my chest. It is not until I sit on my bed, unpacked, staring out at the city lights from my apartment building that I remember what it is I forgot.
You.
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He has to stop thinking. It’s driving him insane. It’s going to kill him. He shuts his eyes and stops thinking- or he tries. He tries so hard, to make his brain black, but all that does is give him clips of memory and brushes with fear and dread and loathing and jealousy.
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There was an author, you think, that expressed everything perfectly about Jane Crocker-
“If people were rain, I was drizzle and she was hurricane.”