#janie's eight feet flat

[messerkampf]

height comparison sites I love you

[maybeimamuppet]

I see stars

hello friends, happy Wednesday! before we get into this I'd like to thank my irl friends Nerd and Kween (I asked them if they'd like to pick an alias, that's what they each chose) for giving me scene ideas and helping me to write this chapter!

tw for:

outing

and something that could be seen as a suicide attempt if you squint. its really not, but... it'll make sense once you get into it.

anyway, please enjoy!

-

At 11:11, Cady makes a wish on a star outside her window. She’s just moved across the world, to Illinois from Kenya. She’s never felt more alone in her life.

So, Cady wishes for a friend. Someone who will stick by her side through anything. Doesn’t matter who. She knows it’s a cliche to wish on a star, but she’s desperate. She’ll try anything.

She’s not expecting to be woken by a blinding bright light at exactly midnight. She blinks blearily as she wakes, looking into the backyard. There’s a girl about her age, bathed in the light.

Cady tugs on her hedgehog slippers and runs downstairs, able to approach the girl lying in her grass as the blinding light fades.

She doesn’t seem to be breathing, but she gasps sharply and her eyes shoot open just before Cady can touch her.

“No, no, no,” the girl says desperately.

“Um... are you okay?” Cady asks quietly, very confused by the last several minutes. The girl looks at her and screams, making Cady jump.

“You, who are you?” The girl demands, her blonde hair flowing behind her. Her eyes are glowing and her hair moves on its own. That’s not normal.

“Um... I’m Cady. Cady Heron,” Cady says confusedly.

“What the fuck have you done?!” The girl yells at her. “You made a wish, what did you wish for?”

Cady is almost crying in fear as this terrifying... person? yells at her. “Nothing, I just-I wanted a friend, I didn’t-I didn’t mean to do anything to you. Who are you?”

“I,” the girl says with a sigh. “Am the star you wished on. Or I used to be, anyway.”

“You what?! That can’t... you...” Cady splutters. “But you’re a girl.”

“To you. This is my... Earthly form, you could say,” the star replies. “You don’t believe me. Here, touch me.”

Cady tries to, pulling back with a yelp as her fingertip makes contact. She’s burning hot.

“Ow! You couldn’t prove it some other way?” Cady hisses, sucking on her burned finger. The star stands up, shaking off her white robes and combing her hands through her long blonde hair. Now that Cady looks closely, her hair is almost exactly the color of starlight. And there’s still a sort of glowing aura around her. “Can anyone else see you?”

“They can now, thanks to you,” the star spits. “That’s a point, actually, hold on.”

She waves her hands for a second, somehow removing the light emanating from her. Her eyes stop glowing and fade to a rather beautiful honey-brown, and her hair lays flat in waves down just past her shoulders. She brings her hands together to condense the light, and like a magician releasing a dove, reveals two gold bracelets that she slides onto her wrists.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t... I didn’t mean to bring you here,” Cady whispers. “Can I help you get back?”

The star sighs, seeming to calm herself. “You had no way of knowing this would happen. It hasn’t for thousands of your years. You don’t need to apologize.”

“What did happen?” Cady asks in confusion.

“You made a wish at a very poor time for me,” the girl replies, coming to sit by her on the grass. “But we don’t have time to get into it now.”

“Okay,” Cady says. She doesn’t think it’s okay, she has so many questions, but she doesn’t want to anger the girl again. “Um… what’s your name?”

“I don’t have one,” the girl shrugs. “I suppose you humans have technically named me at some point, but I wouldn’t know it.”

“Are you staying here?”

“It would seem so,” the girl hums. “For a while, anyway. I’ll have to go back soon.”

“Then you need a name,” Cady insists. She stands and reaches to help her up, but pulls back quickly. “Are you still, um…”

The star chuckles. “No. If I’m not glowing you don’t have to worry.”

“Ah,” Cady says as if she understands. She doesn’t, nothing about this evening makes sense. “Come on, it’s cold out here.”

“You trust strangers remarkably quickly,” the girl says as she takes her hand to be led up the stairs to Cady’s bedroom. “I could be some crazy human telling you a lie.”

“You could be, but you were glowing and burning hot when you got here, and you clearly can do some kind of… magic, or something, with your… essence. And you already knew I wished on a star,” Cady whispers. “Now shush, you’ll wake my parents up.”

“Parents?”

“Yeah. You know, like… the people who made me?” Cady says. “Do stars not have parents?”

“Not that I would ever know,” the star says. “We’re technically composed of pieces of others who’ve already died. What are parents like?”

Cady sits the girl on her bed and roots through her dresser for something less conspicuous for her to wear. “It depends. Some aren’t great. Mine are nice, they love me. They’re a little dorky, but they’re good people. You’ll like them.”

The star takes the offered sweats and looks at them curiously. “What do I do with these?”

“Wear them,” Cady giggles. “You’ll attract a lot of attention in that.”

The star looks down at her long, angelic robes, then back at what Cady has on. She seems to realize that, indeed, she sticks out like a sore thumb. Cady yelps and turns around when she starts tugging her robes off.

“What happened?” The girl asks in confusion.

“You can’t just get naked in front of people,” Cady huffs. “Privacy is important.”

“Oh. Privacy.” The star replies quietly. She tugs on the offered clothes and rests her robes next to her. “I’m done now.”

Cady turns back warily and chuckles when she sees her. “You put the shirt on backwards.”

“Backwards?”

“The wrong way. Come here,” Cady says. The star approaches warily, and Cady helps her turn the shirt around. “For future reference, on human clothes, there’s usually a tag. That goes in the back.”

“Human clothes are so strange,” the girl says thoughtfully, tugging curiously at her collar. She gestures to the pants. “What do you call these? The… leg tubes?”

“Pants?” Cady chuckles, guiding her back to the bed so they can have a chat. “How much do you know? About… me? Or just humanity?”

“Good question,” the star says. “For humanity as a whole, I know most of the common belief systems and usually how cultures function, basic things like that. In terms of specific things like… pants, you said?” Cady nods. “That’s not my area of expertise.”

Cady nods thoughtfully. “And me?”

“You, I only know what I’ve seen. I was assigned to you when you were born. I’ve been watching you, sort of. But I can’t see into your soul or anything, I don’t know your thoughts. I just know what would’ve been observable by anyone,” the girl shrugs.

“Assigned to me? Prove it. When’s my birthday?” Cady says slightly suspiciously, folding her arms over her chest.

“In human time, February eleventh, 2001,” the star says instantly.

“Human time…? No, never mind. Um… where is my biggest scar?” Cady asks. “And how did I get it?”

“Your… oh, what is it called… ah, your stomach. You were playing with a lion cub named Louise and got scratched. You were ten years old and required eight stitches,” the girl replies.

Cady goes quiet. Her scar isn’t visible unless she wears a crop top, and only someone who knew her as a child would know how she got it to that level of specificity. The star is telling the truth.

“Okay, I believe you,” Cady breathes. “This is… a lot for one night.”

“I wasn’t expecting to be here either, I certainly understand,” the girl chuckles sardonically.

“You still need a name,” Cady suddenly realizes. “I can’t keep calling you ‘the star’ or ‘the girl’ in my head.”

“Okay. If you say so,” the star shrugs. “You seem to have decent judgement, you can name me.”

Cady hums pensively, her eyes drifting over to the records her dad had given her to introduce her to American music. There’s a Janis Joplin record on top.

“What about Janis?” Cady asks. It suits the girl pretty well. “Like this.”

The star reads over the letters on the record sleeve and nods. “I like it.”

“Well then, Janis, we should sleep. Wait, do you even need to sleep?” Cady asks. This is all so complicated.

“I think so,” Janis says. “We’ll find out. I know I can sleep, however.”

Cady nods with a thoughtful hum before she gestures for Janis to lie on the far side of her bed. Cady inches in after her, but makes sure to leave a gap in between them. Janis wiggles comfortably under the blankets, delighted at feeling their soft texture for the first time.

“Goodnight, Janis,” Cady murmurs softly.

“Goodnight, Cady Heron,” Janis whispers back.

————-

Cady wakes with a start the next morning when she remembers there’s someone else in bed with her. Janis seems to be spooning her, which is actually kind of nice. Cady takes a moment to think about how to explain this to her parents. They’d never believe the truth, but she needs some story that will convince them to let Janis stay.

She rolls out of bed when she decides on something believable, and tucks Janis in a little tighter. Janis snuffles gently but doesn’t wake.

Cady pads down the stairs and finds her parents in the kitchen making breakfast.

“Morning, binti,” her dad says when he spots her in the hallway. Cady comes into the room staring at her feet.

“Don’t be mad,” she begins, already smacking herself mentally. That’s never a good way to start a conversation. “Um, one of my friends came over last night. She got… kicked out, she needs somewhere to stay. I don’t want her on the streets. Can she please stay here for a while?”

“Kicked out?” Her mom asks. “How do you know this girl?”

“She… she didn’t say why. I didn’t want to ask,” Cady lies quietly. She’s been close enough to the truth so far. “And, um… we met at… the observatory. The one I went to after school last week.”

“Of course she can stay. We have plenty of room, she can stay as long as she needs. Just teach her the rules and stuff,” Cady’s dad replies. Her mom looks at him unhappily, but does nod after a moment’s thought. Cady hugs them both in a mix of happiness and relief.

“Thank you. Her name is Janis, by the way,” Cady murmurs. “I’ll go let her know.”

Her parents nod and send her back up to her bedroom. Cady returns to find Janis awake and turning the lights on and off curiously.

“Hey,” she says softly. Janis jumps and whirls around to see her.

“Good morning,” Janis replies. Cady chuckles.

“What are you doing?”

“How does this turn on the light all the way over there?” Janis asks in wonder.

Cady shrugs. “Electricity, I dunno. I’m not used to it either. Um, my parents said you can stay here. I told them you got kicked out, but they think that means, like, your human parents kicked you out. But you can stay here as long as you need.”

“How lovely,” Janis says. Her stomach suddenly rumbles and she looks at it in confusion.

“You must be hungry. Come on, my parents have breakfast downstairs,” Cady giggles. “I think you’ll like waffles.”

—————-

Cady and Janis set up a routine that day. Cady teaches Janis about human life, and has an added bonus of getting help with her chores. In return, Cady gets a friend. And a cool friend, if she does say so herself.

Cady had bravely taken Janis out shopping, and the fallen star had immediately taken to fishnet tights and oversized jackets. The punk clothes suit her far more than Cady’s hand-me-downs.

Janis stays home when Cady goes to school for safety. Janis also got a phone so she can contact Cady in an emergency, so they have that. Janis knows all the rules and especially not to mess around in the kitchen. She spends most of her days learning about humanity through TV shows and other media. Janis isn’t too keen on what she finds, but Cady seems to be an outlier. She hopes more humans are like Cady.

-

One day, the two girls are washing the dishes after dinner. Janis washes and Cady dries. Cady suddenly fumbles drying a knife and nicks her finger.

Janis looks up in surprise when she yelps. “What happened?” Cady shows off her slightly bleeding finger. “Oh. You’re bleeding.”

“Just a little, it’s not a big deal. I’ll grab a bandaid, it’s fine,” Cady shrugs, already moving towards the first aid kit. Janis gently grabs her hands to stop her moving away.

“I can help,” she says quietly. “Please?” Cady nods gently. Janis holds the wounded finger gently between her hands and closes her eyes. Cady’s finger feels warmer, suddenly, and there’s an odd tingling sensation. “There.”

When Cady looks, the only hint of an injury is a small scar. “Wow.”

“The scar will fade slowly. I usually don’t leave them, but my abilities aren’t quite up to snuff on Earth,” Janis says shyly.

“No, it’s… wow,” Cady says again. “You’re incredible. Thank you.”

Janis flushes and looks down. “You’re welcome.”

In a momentary fit of boldness, Cady leans in and kisses Janis’ cheek. Janis squeaks in surprise and blushes harder.

“Let’s get back to it, star girl,” Cady chuckles, grabbing her towel again. Janis shuffles back over and grabs her sponge.

-

Cady starts noticing strange things after that day. She feels emotions that don’t totally fit her situation. She’s beginning to have memories of doing things she hasn’t done. She has knowledge of things she didn’t study.

The kicker comes one day in her French class. Cady notices she suddenly has much more energy. Her knee is bouncing uncontrollably and her mind is racing. She takes a second to check her phone when she feels it buzzing wildly in her pocket.

stargirl: CADDY WHY DIDNT YOU TELL ME BOUT COFEEEe

stargirl: IS SO GOOD

stargirl: TASTE LIKE CHOCOLATE BUT NAKES MY BRAIN GO FSST I LOVE IT

stargirl: OPPS I SPELLED YOUR NAME WRONG BUT YOURE CADDY NOW

spacecadet: Janis how much coffee have you had?

stargirl: EIGT

spacecadet: Good lord, Janis. Stop drinking it and wait until I get home, please

stargirl: WHYYYYY

spacecadet: Because it’s affecting me too, and I can’t have that right now. Go run around the backyard or something. Just stop the coffee

stargirl: :(

stargirl: ohhhhhh i see now that looks like a sad face

stargirl: clever humans. i was wondering why you use that when you’re unhappy

stargirl: ok bye

Cady clicks her phone off and tries to tune back into her class, wondering what the hell is happening. She and Janis appear to share some sort of link now, if the coffee is anything to go by.

Janis is definitely coming to school with her after this.

-

Janis seems much calmer when Cady gets home. The caffeine crash appears to have kicked in, because she’s huddled up on the couch and staring lethargically at the ceiling.

“Hey, Jay,” Cady says softly. Janis whines and turns to look at her. “You okay?”

“Caddy, the fast juice makes my head hurt,” Janis whines again. Cady grins sadly and heads to fetch her some ibuprofen and water.

“Here, this will help,” Cady says quietly. “The headache is a part of caffeine withdrawal. I see you had a fun day.”

“I deep cleaned the whole house in two hours and the neighbors let me play with their puppy,” Janis replies. Cady chuckles again.

“Well, my parents will love having the house this clean, so good job there. But we should talk,” she says softly. “I felt the caffeine too. Just a little bit. I felt a bit of the energy, and my leg started shaking. What does that mean?”

“I’m not totally sure myself, but this can happen sometimes,” Janis replies. “I forgot about it at the time, I just wanted to help. But sometimes when I do things like healing your cut, or things like that, a bit of me… gets into you, kind of. Forms a sort of link between us. We’ll share a bit of our stronger emotions or sensations, learn things the other knows, stuff like that.”

“So… you healing my cut gave us a psychic link?” Cady asks confusedly.

“Kind of,” Janis agrees. “I can help you learn how to turn it off, in a way, if it bothers you.”

Cady shakes her head. “I kind of like it. Except when you have eight cups of coffee while I’m trying to focus in class.”

“Cady, it’s so good,” Janis says dreamily. “It’s the most wonderful human creation.”

“Well, I’m glad you had a good day, but take it in moderation. No more than two cups from here on, okay?” Cady giggles. Janis nods with a pout. “And I think… I think you should start coming to school with me. It’s only November, you won’t have missed too much.”

“But won’t it… what’s the word… embarrass you? If I say something strange? I’m still not used to humanity,” Janis asks concernedly. Cady looks away briefly.

“There’s not much more damage you can do. Nobody talks to me anyway,” she whispers. “It’ll be nice to have a friend there.”

Janis doesn’t quite know what to do here; she’s still adjusting to human emotions. But a hug seems to fit, so she sits herself up and awkwardly wraps her arms around Cady. Cady leans in and tips her head against her shoulder.

“Then I’ll go,” Janis says softly. “I’m your friend.”

Cady nods. “Thanks, Jay.”

“Oh, um… can I do something, for my sake, if I’m going to school with you?” Janis asks. “It might give you a headache for a few minutes, but you should be fine.”

“Should be? Oh boy,” Cady says worriedly. Janis positions them so they’re facing each other and gets another confirmation from Cady. She nods, and Janis reaches out and touches the center of her forehead.

Cady feels like her brain is exploding. Her mind rushes with thoughts and it feels like they’re pouring out her ears. She’s about to cry out for Janis to make it stop, but Janis ends it just before she reaches her limit. Cady is left with a minor migraine, but shockingly, no other side effects.

“What the heck was that?” She asks desperately.

“I’m sorry,” Janis murmurs. “I just made copies of the knowledge you use for school and gave them to myself. You were basically feeling all your intelligence being doubled and then half removed. But the headache fades.”

Cady supposes Janis will need to be able to do classwork and things, she needs the information. Cady can forgive a temporary headache. “Your hair.”

“What?” Janis asks, furrowing her brows.

“Your hair is brown. Here,” Cady says, touching her own roots. Janis scrambles up and runs to the bathroom to look in the mirror. Cady follows in concern. It doesn’t look bad, it’s only about a centimeter, but Cady had assumed Janis would be a natural blonde. “Are you okay?”

Janis stares at her reflection for a long moment. “Hm? Oh, yeah. It’s fine, everything’s fine.”

Cady’s part of the link floods with alarm bells saying ‘Lie. Lying. Lie.’ She decides not to question it, Janis seems distressed enough. She’ll tell her when she’s ready.

“Okay then. Come on, let’s go get your school supplies,” Cady says, reaching to hold her hand. Janis follows her away clinging to her hand tightly.

————-

Janis starts school with Cady the next week. After a fair bit of pleading, the school agreed to give Janis the same schedule so they can stick together. People still look at them oddly, but one mildly threatening look from Janis sends them on their way.

They manage to skate by relatively unnoticed until lunch. Janis hasn’t said much of anything in fear of causing a scene.

“Don’t you want to eat with the other humans?” Janis asks once they have their lunches, confused as to why Cady isn’t heading back towards the cafeteria. They get a few odd looks at the use of the term ‘other humans’, but nobody seems to think twice about it. High school is weird enough already.

“I usually don’t. I’ve been eating in the bathroom,” Cady says shyly. “Or sometimes with Ms. Norbury. I don’t think anyone would let me sit with them.”

“Well, now there’s two of us. Maybe someone will,” Janis says optimistically. Cady shrugs and decides to give it a shot.

They’re both immediately overwhelmed by the amount of people present and look around in shock. Janis is about to rescind her statement and take them somewhere else when a high, falsely sweet voice rings out from the table in the center of the room.

“Wait, why don’t I know you?” It asks. Everyone else turns to look at the two of them, seemingly in shock.

“Um… we’re new,” Cady stutters. “I’m Cady, this is Janis.”

“You’re both, like, really pretty,” the girl says.

“Uh… thanks,” Cady says.

“So you agree?”

“Huh?”

“You think you’re really pretty,” the girl says. “Or were you talking about that one? Are you some kind of-”

Suddenly, another voice comes by. “Absolutely not. Regina, stop with the mind games and kindly shut the fuck up. Nobody here actually cares what you have to say and your hair looks like hay.”

Janis yelps as she and Cady are dragged away from the table, down the hall and out the doors into the courtyard by the owner of the voice. They’re finally released once they’re under a large oak tree. They both turn to find a tall, sweet looking boy in a t-shirt with a drag queen on it.

“Sorry about that, but it’s for your own good,” he says. “I’m Damian Hubbard, token school gay and junior activities chair.”

“Oh, you’re in my French class! Well, our French class. You’re the one who wanted to go by Fantine,” Cady exclaims.

“One and the same,” Damian nods. He looks at them expectantly. Cady suddenly realizes what he wants.

“Oh! Sorry. I’m Cady, this is Janis,” Cady says. “We’re new here. Juniors.”

“Fun! Where are you guys from?” He asks.

“I’m from Kenya,” Cady says instantly. Luckily, Damian is so interested in this information that he doesn’t ask where Janis is from. Janis just quietly eats her burger while Damian and Cady chat about Africa.

“So what are your schedules like? I haven’t noticed you in my other classes,” Damian asks once his curiosity about Kenya is sated. He looks specifically at Janis. “I definitely would have noticed you.”

“Today is her first day, she’s been… homeschooled, for a while,” Cady explains as she hands her schedule over. “We have AP Calculus after this, then English.”

“Damn, AP Calc as juniors? You guys must be geniuses,” Damian says, impressed. “We have most of our morning classes together, but I have theater and study hall after this.”

“What’s up with that girl?” Janis asks suddenly, practically the first words she’s said all day. Damian looks at her in brief surprise before launching into a story.

“Regina is sort of queen bee here. Everyone calls her and her little group the Plastics, because… they… look like they’re plastic. She’s a manipulative bitch, just stay away from her. For your own good,” Damian warns.

“She seemed nice,” Cady says confusedly. “She said we were pretty.”

“Regina George is not nice!” Damian exclaims suddenly. “Sorry. I have some… history, with her. We shouldn’t get into it now. Anyway, are you guys, like, sisters?”

They both chuckle. Cady answers, “No, we’re just friends. We actually didn’t meet all that long ago. But we do live together.”

“Neat,” Damian says, not pressing and asking why they live together as just friends. “You don’t seem to talk much, Janis.”

Janis looks to Cady in concern, not knowing how to respond.

“She’s just… wary of new people,” Cady says for her. “She warms up after a while.” Janis nods as if to confirm.

“Ah, that’s chill,” Damian says. “Ew, that made me sound straight. Anyway. I usually eat lunch out here when it’s nice, if you guys want to join me. I’ll be glad to show you around.”

“Thank you,” Cady says gratefully. Janis’ instincts tell her to trust this boy, so she nods as well. The bell rings to signal the end of lunch and they all jump.

“No problem. I’ll see you in homeroom tomorrow!” Damian calls, tugging his bag over his shoulder and waving as he heads back to class.

“He seems fun,” Cady says, waiting for Janis to finish gathering her things. “And nice.”

“I like him,” Janis nods. “And I don’t trust that Regina girl. I think Damian’s right, we should avoid her.”

Cady nods. “Okay, I trust your judgement more than mine. Come on, star girl, we’re gonna be late.”

—————-

A few weeks later, Cady and Janis have officially formed a little squad with Damian. They’re nearly inseparable, and Janis is thankful for the opportunity to observe another human close-up. But she has questions.

“Caddy?” She asks one day while Cady is doing math. Janis is doing something called painting, which Cady had introduced her to. Janis likes it and does seem to have a natural aptitude for it.

“Hmm?”

“What does gay mean? Damian says he’s… whatever it is, but I’ve never heard it used before,” Janis asks.

Cady looks at her. “Um… a gay person is someone who’s attracted to the same sex, either romantically or sexually. So, Damian likes boys.”

“Oh. So I’m gay?” Janis asks. Cady chokes on the small sip of her drink she’s just taken.

“Do you like girls?”

“I think so. I’m not… totally sure what attraction is like, yet, but I’m pretty sure I’m not attracted to any man,” Janis says.

“That’s fine,” Cady says gently. “Girls who are gay are usually called lesbians. But you can also like both boys and girls, and people in between. Or nobody.”

“This is all terribly confusing,” Janis says. Cady chuckles.

“Believe me, I know. Here, you can read through this and see if anything fits. I’m sure it’ll be a little different for you, since you’re not totally… human,” Cady says shyly.

Janis takes the proffered laptop and scrolls through it. She desperately tries to ignore the bookmark on the ‘bisexual’ tab, clearly put there by Cady. That’s personal, Cady would tell her if she wanted her to know.

“I believe I am an asexual lesbian,” Janis says after about eight minutes. Cady looks at her in shock.

“You knew that quickly?”

“It’s what seems to fit best, that’s what you said I should look for,” Janis shrugs.

“Okay. Good for you, Jay,” Cady says quietly. “Proud of you.”

“Thanks,” Janis says. Cady’s eyes suddenly go wide as she looks at her. “What?”

“Your hair. More of it is brown,” Cady says.

“No,” Janis whispers anxiously, running to the vanity to check in the mirror. There’s about three inches of the dark brown now, but the rest is still her old platinum blonde.

“Janis, what’s going on? Please,” Cady begs. “What does this mean? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Janis says quietly. “It’s fine.”

Alarms go off in Cady’s head again. Janis will tell you when she’s ready. Don’t push, she reminds herself.

“You’ll tell me if something does happen, though?” Cady confirms.

“Yes,” Janis says. About anything except this. “I promise. It’s fine.”

Cady doesn’t question it further, even when she hears Janis awake all night.

————-

Janis is tidying the basement a few weeks later to help out Cady’s parents. For a bit of entertainment, she switches on the mental link she shares with Cady. They’ve discovered that if only one of them has it ‘on’, they only get the bare bones of what the other is feeling. It’s actually kind of handy.

Janis is immediately overwhelmed with stressed and anxious vibes coming through. To save herself a potentially literal headache, she flicks it back off and rushes upstairs to save Cady.

Cady jumps slightly when she comes barreling into the bedroom, but only looks up from her books briefly before she turns back.

“What’s wrong?” Janis asks.

“Nothing,” Cady says airily, but Janis can see the tension in her shoulders and the clench in her jaw. Cady can apparently feel her staring in disbelief, because she sighs and turns around. “We have a big English test next week, I’m trying to study. I’m… really not good at English.”

“You speak it well,” Janis says. “I think you’re good.”

“Thanks, Janis,” Cady chuckles sadly. “There’s just so many rules, and then there’s always exceptions to the rules. It doesn’t make sense.”

Janis has found this to be true with her studies of humans as well, so she certainly can relate. “Can I help?”

Cady grins at her affectionately. “I could use a cuddle.”

Janis heads over immediately to wrap her friend in a tight hug, resting her chin on top of Cady’s red hair. Cady sighs contently against her neck and cuddles closer. Janis squeezes her in return.

They stay like that for a long, peaceful moment before Janis suddenly gets a brilliant idea.

“Ooh! Wait here, I’ll be right back,” she says excitedly. Cady pouts at the sudden removal of her snuggles, but sits obediently back at her desk to wait.

Janis comes stumbling back in with her easel and all of her painting supplies, crashing into the room and setting everything up with a good deal of noise.

“I need to teach you some more subtlety,” Cady giggles. “What are you doing?”

“Paint,” Janis says around a mouthful of brushes. She removes them before she continues. “With me. To relax!”

“Jay, that’s sweet, but I really can’t paint,” Cady says. “I should get back to studying anyway.”

“No,” Janis insists. “I don’t know human physiology that well, but I know that’s not healthy. You come paint with me. Right now.”

Cady can’t help but giggle as she purses her lips and puffs out her chest dramatically. “Fine, fine. If you want me to waste your paint.”

“You bought it for me,” Janis shrugs. “And its whole purpose is to make things. It never says it has to be something professional or seen by others as ‘good’. If you make something with it and it helps you calm down, then I don’t see how it’s been wasted.”

“You’re awfully poetic sometimes, you know that?” Cady chuckles. “You have to help me.”

Janis nods eagerly and gets her pallet all set up. She stands behind Cady and guides her hand to help her paint a sunset, resting her chin on Cady’s shoulder and murmuring instructions into her ear. Cady seems a bit more tense than before, for some reason.

Cady does relax after a while. The texture of the thick paint flowing over the canvas is very soothing, and she has an excellent guide behind her. But the painting still isn’t turning out the way she wanted, which is frustrating.

“Relax, you’re so tense,” Janis says calmingly. “You’re shredding the brush.”

“I’m painting,” Cady grumbles.

“You’re massacring it,” Janis chuckles. In retaliation, Cady dabs some lavender paint onto her brush and swipes it over Janis’ nose. “Hey!”

Teasingly, Cady reaches out again and waggles the brush in front of Janis’ face. Janis snatches it and the pallet and dabs some yellow over Cady’s cheek. Cady gasps at the betrayal.

She grabs another brush and a bottle of cheap acrylic, squeezing some out onto another pallet that she also uses as a shield. Janis lunges again, barely managing a streak of blue down Cady’s forehead. Cady retaliates with some pink on Janis’ collarbone.

By the time Janis runs out of materials, they’re both much more colorful than they were a few minutes ago. But Cady is laughing delightedly, which was Janis’ whole goal.

Janis lunges forward and grabs her small friend, holding her close and spinning her around while Cady laughs. Janis suddenly realizes she really wants to kiss her. That’s new.

Cady cuddles close once Janis puts her down and nuzzles into Janis’ neck. “Thank you, Jay. I needed that.”

“Anytime, Birdie,” Janis replies quietly.

“Birdie?” Cady asks.

“Your name,” Janis says. “Heron. It’s a bird. I learned that humans sometimes call animals things that end with that sound for affection. Like doggy or kitty. Or birdie.”

“Cute,” Cady hums. “Herons aren’t really… cute birds, though. They’re pretty big.”

“Let me have this,” Janis pleads.

“Okay,” Cady giggles. She pushes up on her tiptoes to kiss Janis’ cheek. “I’m gonna go wash this off. Thank you.”

“Of course,” Janis squeaks, thankful that the paint hides how hard she’s blushing.

Nearly a third of her hair is brown when she checks the mirror to scrub the paint away.

————-

Janis gets home the next afternoon after a hangout with Damian to find Cady with a green face. She jumps and runs back out of their shared bedroom in fright.

“Janis, come back,” Cady laughs. “I’m just doing some skincare, it’s okay.”

“Why are you green?” Janis asks warily.

“It’s a face mask. This one has avocado,” Cady says, putting her book aside and reaching for her. “The paint yesterday kind of irritated my skin, so I’m doing this to help calm it down.”

“Oh,” Janis says. “You’re not sick?”

“No,” Cady says. “I’m perfectly fine. Face masks are actually very relaxing. Did you have fun with Dame?”

“Yeah,” Janis says absently, looking curiously at the green goop on Cady’s face. “He taught me the dance he came up with for that one Lady Gaga song.”

“Oh, really? You’ll have to show me later,” Cady giggles. “Do you wanna try a mask?”

Janis nods curiously, so Cady heads back to the bathroom to grab the pot of it. Janis eyes it warily but does let Cady lie her down and gently brush it over her face.

Cady doesn’t think for a terribly long time before she decides that straddling Janis is the best way to get it on. She’s filled with regret quite quickly, realizing this is a rather compromising position.

“You have beautiful skin,” she murmurs as she rubs the goop gently into Janis’ cheeks.

“Thanks?” Janis says confusedly. “Like, to eat? Is that what you’re doing?”

To kiss, maybe, Cady thinks, but desperately doesn’t say. “No, not to eat, goofy. But it’s very soft. Feels nice.”

Janis nods thoughtfully. Cady swipes a little bit onto her chin, and she pokes her tongue out to taste it without thinking. “Blech.”

“It’s not to eat, I just said,” Cady giggles. “It’s for your skin, it’s not food.”

“You said it was avocado,” Janis pouts.

“I said it has avocado, it has other things in it too,” Cady says. “Things that don’t taste very good.”

Janis continues pouting at the lack of food as Cady finishes covering her face. Cady suddenly realizes she’s very tempted to kiss it away. It’s romantic, in a way, to be doing this with Janis. Sharing a face mask and looking into each other’s eyes.

“What now?” Janis asks curiously. Cady goes to clean her hands off before she answers.

“Now you leave it on for a while and relax,” she responds, shoving Janis over on the bed and crawling in next to her. Janis pouts again.

“Relaxing is boring,” she whines.

“It wasn’t boring yesterday,” Cady responds. “Just talk to me.”

“About what?” Janis asks.

“I dunno,” Cady shrugs. “Um… what’s your favorite thing about Earth, so far? Besides coffee?”

Janis thinks for a while. Cady twines their fingers together in the meantime without thinking about it, giving Janis’ hand a gentle squeeze. Janis squeezes back before she answers.

“You,” she says quietly. “And Damian. Getting to know you face to face is… so much better than watching you from above. And I would never have met him if I hadn’t fallen. I got the best tour guides to Earth.”

Cady is nearly in tears at her answer. “I’m glad I can. Well, I’m not glad you fell. But I am glad it gave me a chance to meet you. I love-“ I love you.

Janis looks at her expectantly.

“I love getting to know you,” Cady finishes. That was close.

Janis grins at her adorably. “Thanks, Caddy.”

“Of course,” Cady whispers. Janis continues talking, saving Cady having to try to recover for a long moment. When the time is up Cady grabs a warm cloth to swipe the mask away with. She finds herself having to actively hold back from kissing the star beneath her.

Maybe she is still stupid with love.

—————-

Janis likes Damian. He doesn’t mind that she doesn’t speak very much, and makes an effort to get to know her anyway. They have little hangouts without Cady from time to time, just to get to know each other.

“Damian?” Janis asks quietly one day as she sits on his bed. Damian pauses his passionate cover of Hello from The Book of Mormon.

“Yeah?”

“Have you ever been in love?”

Damian pauses his backing track and comes to sit next to her. “Not real love, I don’t think. I’ve had, like, crushes and stuff, though. Why?”

“What is it like?” Janis asks. “How do you know?”

“Well, um… you think about them a lot. Want to spend time together, maybe you want to cuddle or kiss them. I always got a kind of warm feeling in my chest whenever I was around him, and it just felt… right, to be together. Like you make sense together,” Damian says. “That’s not a great explanation, sorry.”

“No, it’s-it’s fine,” Janis murmurs.

“Is this prompted by anyone?” Damian asks. “You don’t have to tell me, but I won’t tell them if you don’t want me to.”

“IthinkI’minlovewithCady,” Janis says rapidly. Damian gasps happily and looks at her, then scrambles back on the bed away from Janis. “Is that bad?”

“No, no, that’s-that’s fine,” Damian squeaks. “But what’s happening with your eyes?”

“What?”

“Your eyes are… they’re glowing. Why are they glowing, how long have they done that? Are you a witch?” Damian asks rapidly. Janis runs to look in the mirror, and sure enough, her eyes are glowing a gentle gold color.

She slaps her hands over them and presses her back against the wall. “Don’t freak out.”

“Too late,” Damian calls loudly. “Why the fuck are you glowing, Janis?!”

“Shh,” Janis hushes. “Would you shut up? It’s kind of important other people don’t know about this.”

“But why are your eyes fucking-mmph!” Damian tries to ask again, getting cut off by Janis’ hands slamming over his mouth.

“I’m gonna take my hands away,” Janis says. “And you’re gonna be quiet. I’ll explain, but you have to be calm. Or I will tape your mouth shut. Capiche?”

Damian nods, so Janis removes her hands. He takes a second to breathe. “But are you a witch?” He asks quietly.

“No, I’m not a witch,” Janis grumbles. “I’m a star.”

“You-you-you-“ Damian stutters. “Huh?”

“I’m a star. From the sky,” Janis says. “In your years, I’m about seventeen million years old. I’m Cady’s guardian star. She wished on me and I fell to Earth. And now we’re here.”

Damian blinks at her. “You’re… a star.” Janis nods. “You’re not bullshitting me?” Janis shakes her head. “Prove it. Please.”

“My eyes glowing aren’t enough for you?” Janis asks. Damian shakes his head. “Fine. Grab some sunglasses and oven mitts and meet me in your backyard.”

“What?”

“Just do it,” Janis groans, heading out to the backyard to prepare herself. Luckily, Damian lives in a pretty isolated part of the suburbs. He meets her after a few minutes wearing some cool shades and Animal Crossing patterned oven mitts. “Ready?”

Damian nods, so Janis slips her bracelets off and holds them in her hands. It takes a bit of effort to get them to shift back into her aura, which worries her, but she’ll have to deal with that later. She feels the once familiar warming sensation of her light emanating from her, and the soothing motion of her hair starting to flow down her back. The glow of her eyes is even stronger now.

Damian’s jaw drops in shock. His best friend is a star. He comes up and pokes her arm curiously with one of the mitts. There’s a sizzling noise and a small char mark on the glove, but luckily no other damage. Janis condenses her aura again, this time fashioning some cool piercings that she slips in. They fit her punk look much better. Poor Damian is still trying to process.

“You’re a star,” he says in awe. “That’s so cool! What is star world like? Do you have other star friends? How did you get to be Cady’s star? Do I have a star too?”

Janis grabs him gently and guides him back inside, promising to answer all his questions in due time. The only evidence left behind are two black footprints in the grass where she stood.

————-

Damian has a school show in February. Cady and Janis buy tickets on the first day they’re available, eager to see him in his element.

But Janis has come to a sad realization. Her hair changing colors and her waning ability to change her jewelry back can only mean one thing.

She’s becoming human.

Janis knows she doesn’t belong on Earth. She’s a star. She belongs in the sky, watching over Cady from above. If she stays much longer, she won’t be able to get back.

It’s not as if she wants to leave. She loves Cady in every way a human can love another. And recently, she’s had reason to believe that Cady loves her in return. Janis wants to experience that. But she thinks she wants to be where she belongs more.

Secretly, Janis writes letters. Three, to be precise. One to Cady’s parents to thank them for allowing her to stay with them and being so kind to her. One to Damian, to thank him for being such a good friend and sticking around to take care of Cady Earth side. And one to Cady, saying everything she wants so desperately to say out loud.

She hides them in her backpack, somewhere Cady won’t look until it’s time.

————-

Janis tries to spend as much time as she possibly can with her friends. She makes sure she can do her homework with Cady, and goes to Damian’s house after school almost every day. Neither of them complain. Cady especially doesn’t complain that Janis keeps sneaking into bed with her for cuddles in the middle of the night.

Today is a Damian day. Cady has a Mathletes competition that Janis wasn’t allowed to attend, so Janis gets to invite him over. Damian immediately pulls out a thick script and asks her to help him with his lines.

Janis does happily, curling up next to him on her bed and going off. Damian complains when she keeps giggling at his acting, but they make it through the first act mostly unscathed.

“D, can I ask you something?” Janis asks now that they’re taking a break, hanging off the side of the bed and looking around the room upside-down. Damian flops next to her and does the same.

“Sure.”

“When Caddy and I first met you, you said you had history with Regina,” Janis says. “But she’s not in our history class. What did you mean?”

“Oh,” Damian says. “No, I meant, like, personal history. Drama. We were friends in elementary school. We had dance classes together and stuff. Karen and Gretchen came along a little later and we were all buds. And then I came out as trans in middle school.”

Janis remembers seeing that term when she was researching the LGBT+ community online. She suddenly realizes this story is more personal than she originally anticipated.

“Regina was… not nice about it,” Damian continues after a shaky breath. “We were twelve. She already had some issues and stuff, and I’m honestly not sure she knew what trans meant. Not completely, anyway. She asked me what I thought I was, and I said that I knew I was a boy. And then she just kind of laughed and left me alone. I got to school the next day and there were a bunch of slurs carved into my locker. And suddenly the whole school knew.”

“Oh, Damian,” Janis mumbles. Damian cuddles closer into her when she reaches out. Janis has to hold herself back from unleashing her true form on Regina George and cooking her to a crisp. “That bitch. I’m so sorry.”

“It was what it was,” Damian shrugs. “Anyway, I didn’t know… what to do, really. I thought she would at least be willing to hear me out, learn with me. Still be my friend. But she never talked to me again. I turned around when I saw my locker and ran all the way back home. My mom took me out of school for the rest of the year and I got to go to this drama camp therapy place instead. And then I came back to school as a sophomore. And then this year I met you guys.”

“Thank you for telling me,” Janis murmurs. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Janjan,” Damian says quietly. “Can you only grant Caddy’s wishes or do I get one too?”

“I might be able to pass something on,” Janis chuckles.

“All I’ve wanted from Regina since then is an apology,” Damian says. “Just one genuine ‘I’m sorry’. I don’t even want to see her get, like, hit by a bus or anything anymore. Just that.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Janis whispers. She doesn’t have the heart to tell him it doesn’t quite work that way. But she’ll be damned if she won’t try. “In the meantime, we’re here for you. Cady loves you too, I know. You should tell her too, whenever you feel ready. She’ll support you.”

“Thanks, Jan,” Damian whispers. “Woo, this got too deep, come dance with me.”

Janis happily stands up and does their favorites dances with him. Cady joins in when she gets home, and they have their best sleepover yet. It’s a perfect day.

—————

“Janis?” Cady calls as she enters their shared room on a Thursday. Janis looks up from her easel to see her. “I have a competition tomorrow, do you want to come?”

“Yes,” Janis says immediately. She’s wanted to go to one of Cady’s Mathletes competitions since she first joined the team in the fall, but the opportunity never came up.

“Okay. What are you up to?” Cady says, coming to peek at her painting in progress. “Aww, is that us?”

Janis nods, letting her look at the vaguely abstract painting of their ‘art freak’ trio. She decides against letting her know it’s a goodbye present. That can wait.

“How sweet,” Cady says. “You’ve really improved, wow.”

“Thanks,” Janis murmurs. “How was practice?”

“Good! I think we’re ready,” Cady chirps. “Tomorrow is our biggest competition though, so I’m not sure.”

“You’ll do great,” Janis says confidently.

“Thanks, Jay,” Cady responds with a grin.

-

The next day after school, Janis heads to the auditorium to watch Cady compete. Cady had to wear her uniform to school, and she looks so cute in it that Janis had to walk to class alone to avoid pulling her aside and confessing everything.

She finds a seat close to the front, and on the opposite side to Cady so they can see each other easily. Janis smiles seeing her interact with her teammates. She’s glad Cady has made more friends. It’ll make things easier for both of them when it’s time for Janis to go.

—-

Cady laughs and jokes with her teammates before warm up, but she’s slyly looking for Janis too. She’s scanning the crowd for that familiar part-blonde hair.

She doesn’t find it until they head to their spots at the podium. Cady perks up when she sees her friend and waves happily, laughing when Janis waves back and gives her two thumbs up.

Cady realizes the issue a few equations in. She knows the work and how to do it, but she’s so distracted looking at Janis in the crowd that she almost misses the time. Focus, Cady.

But Janis has the widest smile on her face, watching Cady in her element, that Cady can hardly bear to look away. She shakes her head to try and snap herself back into the competition.

After a while Kevin notices her distraction, and he isn’t pleased. He looks up with her to see what she’s looking at. “Yo, Africa, get your head in the game. Talk to your girlfriend later.”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Cady hisses, but she does blush rather violently.

“Could’ve fooled me,” Kevin whispers back.

Cady grumbles nonsense under her breath and scratches down her thinking for the problem. This time she does make it and hits her buzzer to answer first. She’s tied the game. The competition goes into a lightning round, and, as always, her team picks her as their tribute.

Cady looks out to see Janis for a confidence boost, smiling when she sees Janis waving wildly at her and beaming proudly. God, why does she have to be so cute?

She doesn’t notice her time has started until almost half of it is gone, with her teammates yelling at her from behind. She scrambles to grab her pencil and tries to remember what she’s looking for in the first place. Janis, her mind supplies helpfully. Not helpful.

Luckily, the problem is on the screen behind the announcer. Find the limit. She looks back to her math again and continues penciling down her thinking, but the girl across from her slams her buzzer first.

“Shuck,” Cady grumbles under her breath as she gives her answer. Luckily, it’s incorrect and Cady has a chance to steal. “Oh!”

She feels a warm sensation in her head and faintly hears a, “You can do it.” Janis is cheering her on psychically. Cady looks again and realizes something.

“The limit does not exist!” She yells as she slams her buzzer so hard she almost breaks it. The boys erupt into cheers when the announcer reveals she’s correct and has won the event for them.

The audience breaks into polite applause as she shakes her opponent’s hand. Cady laughs as she hears a loud, “Woo!” That definitely came from Janis.

“Is that your girlfriend?” Tyler asks, pointing to the crowd.

“No! Why does everyone keep asking that?” Cady huffs. “She’s just a friend.”

“Then why are you blushing?” Marwan teases.

“Oooooooh, Africa’s crushiiiiiiiiing,” Kevin adds childishly. Cady blushes harder.

“No I’m not!”

“Dude, you were staring at her the whole competition, you almost lost it because of her,” Kevin says, suddenly much more serious. “You so are.”

“Okay, fine,” Cady admits squeakily. “Maybe I am crushing. Just a little.”

“Aww, our baby Mathlete has a crush!” Tyler coos. “And on a girl!”

Cady thinks they’d really get along with Damian. “Yeah, okay, laugh it up. But none of you say anything, I don’t think she likes me back.”

“I don’t know, she never stopped looking at you, either,” Marwan says. “It’s worth a shot.”

“Really?” Cady asks shyly. “No. Never mind. I’ll think about it.”

“We’ll take it,” Kevin says. “She’s probably waiting, you should go.”

“You guys won’t tell anyone?” Cady asks anxiously.

“‘Course not,” Tyler insists. “Go celebrate, Africa.”

Cady grins shyly. “Thanks, guys. Good competition, I’ll see you Monday.”

-

Janis meets her in the parking lot afterwards, startling Cady by scooping her up from behind and spinning her around.

“You won!” Janis cheers happily, wrapping her in the tightest hug Cady thinks she’s ever been in. “I’m so proud of you!”

Cady giggles in her hold. “Thanks, Jay. Did you like watching? I hope you weren’t bored.”

“No, it was fun! You’re very smart,” Janis says, linking their hands together as they start their walk home.

“You have all my knowledge too, you’re smart,” Cady says.

“I may have all the knowledge, but that sure as hell doesn’t mean I know how to use it,” Janis chuckles.

“That’s fair, I guess,” Cady chuckles. “God, I’m tired. I don’t wanna walk. Janis, carry me.”

“Okay,” Janis shrugs. Cady shrieks when she’s suddenly lifted off the ground and being carried baby-style back home. “What?”

“I was joking,” Cady chuckles anxiously. “I didn’t think you could actually carry me. I’m just surprised.”

“Do you want me to put you down?” Janis asks.

“I didn’t say that,” Cady murmurs. Janis chuckles as she cuddles into her neck and stays there the rest of their journey home.

-

Cady truly can sleep anywhere, because she falls asleep in Janis’ hold before they even reach their block. Janis helpfully carries her up the stairs and tucks her into bed, but she doesn’t manage to do it without waking her up.

“Don’t go,” Cady grumbles groggily, clinging to her hand.

“Okay,” Janis murmurs, crawling in after her and letting Cady snuggle into her again. Cady huffs contently. Janis is so soft and warm.

“Tell me a story.”

“About what?” Janis asks.

“I dunno,” Cady yawns. “What was your life like before you came to Earth?”

Janis nods. “Okay. I actually don’t think you’ll find it particularly interesting. I’m kind of like an intern there, I’m not old enough to really be a guardian star on my own. So I meet with the council periodically to discuss how I’m doing, and they tell me what events or other things to watch for while I observe you. Or help me grant your wishes.”

“Council?” Cady asks. She doesn’t even open her eyes.

“That’s the best way I can describe it. Elder stars, or ones that have more experience. Actually, your sun and the one you humans call Sirius are kind of like co-presidents. Council is in charge of carrying out fates, and they give final say on what wishes go through.”

“I never got anything I wished for,” Cady grumbles.

“I am sorry about that,” Janis murmurs. “They don’t work quite the way you would think. We can’t grant them literally, or you humans would realize there’s a sort of higher power at work. So when you wished for a pet cat when you were eight? I sort of… stepped in, and got those twin lion cubs to imprint on you. That’s as close as I was allowed to get.”

“I did love them,” Cady whispers. “Keep going.”

“Okay,” Janis chuckles. “Um… council also decides what happens to stars once their destinies are either fulfilled or broken. Shooting stars are the ones who get exiled for good. It’s sort of like death, but not. Every once in a while they decide who goes supernova, or who forms a black hole, things like that. I’m not sure why they decided to grant your wish literally this time. Or with me. But I’m glad they did.”

Cady puffs contently in her sleep once Janis stops talking. Janis takes that to mean that she’s glad too.

—————

Cady has definitely noticed a shift in Janis’ energy over the last while. Janis doesn’t talk as much, or smile as much. She seems to be making an effort to be with Cady and Damian as much as possible. Cady worries, but Janis promised to tell her if something was wrong.

So, they get ready for Damian’s show together. Janis looks dashing in her floral patterned dress and leather jacket, and Cady nearly matches in her own black dress and pink sweater. They’re opposites, but still go together. It’s rather fitting.

They head in together, holding hands as the house lights go down. They don’t let go.

-

Damian is a marvelous performer. Cady and Janis cheer by far the loudest when his curtain call comes, but it’s hard to tell over the applause of the rest of the crowd.

They meet him in the wings and hand over the flowers they bought on the way there.

“Dame, you were incredible!” Cady cheers, throwing herself at him for a hug. He catches her and holds her close happily.

“She’s right, it was killer,” Janis agrees. She knows she sounds rather melancholy and tries to keep that out of her voice. “Proud of you, dude.”

“Thank you,” Damian says happily. “Let’s go celebrate.”

He takes them to Waffle House for dinner. Cady is delighted, and Janis is cheered up a little just watching her with her favorite food. Her plan was to leave tonight. Maybe she can wait until tomorrow.

Janis snaps out of her thoughts for the time being and chats animatedly with her friends. They watch horror movies in their pajamas back at Damian’s house for a sleepover. Cady hides in Janis’ lap the whole time. Janis doesn’t mind.

Janis doesn’t sleep, either. Cady is snuggled into her chest, snoring quietly. Janis kisses her forehead, and the corners of Cady’s mouth tick up in a little smile. Cady cuddles in closer and snuffles contently. Janis stays awake to watch her all night.

Janis can’t bring herself to say goodbye. It’s not as if she wants to leave the only… family that she’s ever known. But she has to. Janis leaves the letters with each of her friends and heads into the woods nearby before they wake.

-

Cady wakes with a start. Janis is gone.

There’s a letter where she was when Cady drifted off in her warm, soft hold. Cady tears into the one addressed to her.

Cady,

I’m sorry. If you’re reading this then I’m gone.

I don’t belong here, I think you and I both know that. I need to go back. I think I granted your wish well enough. And now you have Damian. I know he’ll stick by you through anything, like you wanted.

Thank you for being my friend. I don’t think I could’ve asked for a better human to be assigned to. Even without my intervention, you’re number one. Keep that going. Keep being you.

I wish I could stay longer, but if I wait any more it’ll be too late. I’m already fading. You wanted to know why my hair turned brown. It changed color because I’m becoming human. I think I have you to thank for that. If I could stay it would’ve been a good thing. Because one of the most human things is to love.

Thank you for showing me what that means. Even though I practically forced my presence into your life, you accepted me with open arms. You treated me like a friend. You helped me adapt to a place I never imagined I would see. Thank you.

I love you so much, Cady. I wish I could’ve told you in person. I wish I could’ve known what it’s like to kiss you, to feel your touch.  To hold you close and call you mine. But it would be too hard to leave you if you knew how I feel. You’ll find someone else. I know you will. I just hope you’re happy at the end of the day, my little bird.

I’ll always remember you. If you ever get lonely, you know where to find me. I’ll be there to watch over you, always. I love you.

Shine bright for me, little star.

Love,

Janis

Cady bursts into tears when she reaches the end of the letter, startling Damian awake.

“Wuzzamatter?” He asks blearily. “Where’s Janis?”

“She’s gone,” Cady sobs. “She said she has to go back.”

“No,” Damian says, scrambling for his own letter. “She can’t be gone.”

“She didn’t even say goodbye,” Cady weeps. “And-and I never got to tell her how much I love her.”

“You guys have a-a link, right?” Damian asks frantically. “Maybe she hasn’t left yet, maybe-maybe we can talk her out of it.”

Cady needs a miracle right now. She focuses hard and turns the connection on, like Janis taught her to. Almost like a compass points north, she feels a compulsion to go west, towards the woods nearby.

“She’s that way, if she’s still here,” Cady sniffles, pointing to the wall. “Come on.”

Damian runs after her barefoot, both of them still in their pajamas. They run almost ten blocks, then hit the edge of the woods. Both of them desperately ignore the rocks and sticks poking their feet as they run into the forest.

A blinding light shines through the trees, and they both wince for a second. Are they too late?

“She’s this way, come on!” Cady yells, running full tilt into the light. “Janis!”

They suddenly burst into a clearing, and Janis lies in the middle. Her light surrounds her, and she seems to be floating.

“Janis!” Cady yells. “Wait, please! Don’t leave! Janis!”

Janis doesn’t react. Cady doesn’t know if she can’t hear her, or if she just won’t. As quick as they noticed it, the light fades, and Janis is gone.

“No,” Cady whimpers. “No, no, please.”

She stumbles forward to where Janis was, frantically feeling around in the grass and mud for any sign of her. All that’s left is ash.

Damian lets her cry and scream for a while before he comes to pick her up and guide her back home. “I know, Cads. I know. She’s still-she’s still here. She’s just back in the sky now. Where she belongs.”

Cady clings to him and sobs, so Damian picks her up to carry her away.

-

Cady pauses her desperate cries when a warm sensation hits her. She opens her eyes and is nearly blinded by another flood of light. “Janis.”

She scrambles out of Damian’s hold and runs back to the clearing. The light is so bright it hurts, but Cady presses on.

Just like the first time, Janis lies in the grass bathed in warm light. She’s not breathing, but her eyes suddenly shoot open and she gasps for breath. But this time she starts to cry.

“Janis,” Cady cries desperately. Janis quickly condenses her aura so Cady isn’t burned when she leaps into her. “What happened?”

“Cady,” Janis sobs. “I’m so sorry.”

“Why did you leave?” Cady demands gently. “Why-why didn’t you even say goodbye?”

“It hurt too much,” Janis chokes. “To know-to know I’d never see you again. I had to do it while I had the nerve.”

“And you-you didn’t think I’d miss you? You didn’t think I would want to say goodbye?” Cady sobs.

“I’m sorry,” Janis whispers, pulling her in. “I’m so sorry.”

Cady accepts the offered comfort and sobs into Janis’ shoulder for a long time. Janis lets her, and buries her own face into Cady’s neck. After a while, Cady chokes, “Why did you come back?”

“It’s not important,” Janis says immediately.

“Yes it is, Janis! I’m happy you’re back, but you can’t keep lying to me,” Cady insists. “Or yourself. What happened?”

“I… I’ve been kicked out,” Janis mumbles. “For good this time. I can’t-I can’t get back.”

“Oh, Jay,” Cady whispers. “I’m so sorry.”

Janis breaks down even harder, clinging to her and mourning the loss of her true home. Cady watches as her hair changes color for the final time, half dark brown and half her original platinum blonde. Half human, half star. Janis’ eyes glow briefly before fading to a gorgeous chocolate brown, and the jewels she’s made from her aura turn heavy. The transformation is complete.

“I’m so sorry,” Janis whimpers. Cady cups her face and looks into her eyes. They can both barely see through their tears, but neither of them care.

“Just don’t leave again,” Cady murmurs softly.

“I can’t, now,” Janis jokes weakly. She’s silenced by a glare from the redhead straddling her lap. “I won’t. I didn’t-I didn’t want to in the first place. I just knew I had to try. And I… I meant what I said. In the letter. Every word.”

“Good,” Cady whispers around a small sob. “Because I mean this.”

Janis gasps quietly as Cady pulls her in and slams their lips together. Cady kisses her hungrily, desperately, telling her everything they both need to hear without words. Janis can feel her soft but firm grip, can taste the salt of their tears mingling on their lips. She can hear the soft sniffles let out intermittently, can reach out to touch and pull her redhead closer, she can smell Cady’s cherry shampoo.

Janis has never felt more human.

Cady pulls back and tips her forehead to rest against Janis’. “I love you. I love you so much, my star.”

“I love you too, my little bird,” Janis murmurs. “So much.”

“You’re smiling,” Cady says with slight confusion.

“I’m happy,” Janis responds with a shrug. “Maybe I can’t go home anymore, but… I have you. I get to learn what it’s like to love you. You’re my home now. All I’ll ever need.”

Cady chokes out a sob and kisses her again. “I’ll help you. I’ll guide you like you did for me. We have each other.”

Damian comes bursting into the clearing then, dripping wet and panting slightly. Janis gently removes Cady from her lap and runs full tilt towards him.

He catches her with a small grunt, but holds her close. “You’re back.”

“Forever,” Janis confirms. “I’m sorry.”

“The only thing you have to apologize for is that fucking light of yours,” Damian grumbles. “I couldn’t see when you came back and I fell in the pond.”

So that’s why it had taken him so long to find them. “I’m sorry about that, too.”

“You’d better be,” Damian huffs. “What happened?”

Janis turns to look at her love, who is now lying on her stomach and chatting animatedly with a squirrel. Janis doesn’t think her old star magic had anything to do with it, that kind of thing just seems inherent to Cady.

“She happened,” Janis whispers. “She’s been the answer from the beginning. I just know it now.”

Cady looks up when she feels their gaze on her, smiling when she sees Janis. She comes running towards them when Janis reaches out for her. They hear a quiet gasp when they both lean in for a kiss.

“What happened, Dame?” Cady asks worriedly when they pull back.

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” Damian grumbles. “Can we get you lovebirds home so I can dry off?”

“Yeah, come on,” Cady chuckles. She stands in the middle and holds both of their hands, clinging to Janis especially tightly. They leave Damian at his house with the promise to meet again for lunch before heading back to their own.

Cady lies down on her bed, exhausted from the morning, and pulls Janis down with her. Janis falls with a gentle huff and cuddles in closer.

“Jay?” Cady murmurs against her chest.

“Hmm?”

“Why did you get kicked out?”

“The first time, I didn’t know. I was never great at being a star either, I thought council deciding to grant your wish with me meant I was being fired, basically,” Janis chuckles. “That’s why I was so crabby. I’m sorry about that, by the way.”

“And this time?” Cady asks quietly.

“Because I was meant to,” Janis says, stroking through Cady’s hair gently. “All along.”

“Huh?”

“Stars work a little differently from humans,” Janis says. “We have destinies, fates we have to fulfill. We’re kind of like puppets, in a weird way. We don’t even get to know our own destinies. Humans don’t have them, you’re- we’re- free to make our own decisions. Every once in a while a star just grants a wish to give you a little nudge in the right direction.”

“So… your destiny was to-“ Cady stumbles.

“To be with you,” Janis finishes. “From the moment the universe was created, we were destined to be together. I just didn’t know it until now.”

“So we’re like soulmates?” Cady asks, tipping up to look at her. Janis presses a sweet kiss against her lips before she answers.

“Kind of,” Janis agrees. “But it was never foretold what our relationship was meant to be. We could’ve stayed friends, or been… enemies, or just strangers who met in passing. You could’ve kicked me out when I showed up in the backyard and that would’ve been that. Or you could’ve waited to make that wish until you were eighty years old, we’ll never know. All that was ever dictated was that we meet and I stay near you. Falling in love was our doing. And now that I’m a human, I don’t have a destiny anymore. I’ve been fulfilled. I make my own life. The rest is up to us, now.”

Cady blinks at her. “Then I’m glad it turned out this way. I love you.”

“Me too, my little star,” Janis murmurs back. “Me too.”

I love you more than all the stars in the sky.

-

thanks for reading!! i apparently have hit the maximum number of text blocks (tumblr, ew) so get ready for a text block!! in some sad news, there will not be a new chapter next week. i need to take some time for myself for the sake of my own mental health. i’ve noticed a few little inklings of burnout, which is not what i want!! i want to continue this and give you guys quality stuff to read. im hoping that this will give me a chance to build up a cache of works so i’m not scrambling to write in a week to get stuff posted, and that will give me more time for myself. in some bittersweet news, this is also my last (for now) original idea! from here on i’ll be reliant on requests to keep going. im gonna finish some older ones and then hopefully, finally, open them up again!! yay! anyway, thank you all so much for reading, i hope you enjoyed!! lots of love, ezzy

[afni-fics]

In Hindsight: Chapter 6: Eight Years Ago... One Bad Day

In Hindsight: Chapter 6: Eight Years Ago... One Bad Day by C_R_Scott Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Tim Drake/Tam Fox, Jack Drake/Janet Drake, Janet Drake & Tim Drake, Jack Drake & Tim Drake, Lucius Fox/Tanya Fox, Tim Drake & Tam Fox Characters: Tim Drake, Tam Fox, Janet Drake, Jack Drake, Lucius Fox, Bruce Wayne Additional Tags: Tim Drake-centric, Family Drama, Family Secrets, Family Feels, Childhood Friends, Childhood Trauma, Childhood Memories, Childhood Sweethearts, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Good Parent Janet Drake, Bad Parent Jack Drake, no beta we die like robins, Bruce Wayne Tries to Be a Good Parent

Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter

Story Summary: What if Tim Drake was originally raised by his maternal grandmother for the first eight years of his life due to "circumstances" involving his biological parents? What if Tim's grandmother was also the next door neighbor and occasional sitter for Lucius Fox's family?

Chapter Summary: 9-year old Tim Drake had been staying with his parents, Jack and Janet, for the better part of three weeks following the hospitalization of his grandmother due to a serious illness. While he loved having this rare extended length of time with his Mom and Dad, he still missed his Nana, their home, and his friends in the neighborhood. She'd been in the hospital so long... She should have been getting better soon... Then they could both go home while Mom and Dad went on their next archaeological trip.

However, all it took is one bad day to change the course of his life.

Click... Whirrr...

Click... Whirrr...

Click... Whirrr...

Nine-year-old Timothy Drake looked at his mother expectantly as she picked up one of his Polaroid photos that had finally finished developing.

Janet Drake's eyes brightened as she looked over the photo her son had taken of the ancient Mesopotamian vase she'd unpacked from her most recent archaeological dig with Jack. She beamed at her child with undisguised pride. "This is really good!" 

"Really?!" Tim asked, his blue eyes brightening with delight as he watched his mother tape the photo into place alongside her notes cataloging the vase in her work journal. He slung the camera around his neck by its strap and crawled over to where his mom welcomed him over with open arms so he could get a closer look at the page with her notes, written with an graceful cursive hand. Janie tugged him into an easy comfortable hug as soon as he was within reach, nuzzling his hair affectionately until he pulled away giggling from the ticklish sensation. "Momma! Stop!" 

His mother's smile was full of love and mischief, but she finally relented. "Oh fine!," she said with a heavy amount of faux drama in her tone and an obvious pout as she release her grip to allow him to pull away.

"Really?" Tim asked, his head tilted to a curious angle.

"Mmmm... Nope!" was all the warning Tim got before Janie pounced again and pulled him into another nearly smothering hug and kissed the top of his head, causing him to shriek with delighted laughter as his weak attempts to escape were completely ineffective. In the end, fighting his mother's affection was not something he had it in his heart to do for very long. Eventually, their laughter died down as he laid down with his head on his mother's lap, sighing with contentment as she carded her elegant long fingertips through his hair.

As much as he loved living with his Nana, Tim cherished these special moments alone with his Mom that were so few and far between year after year. His parents were out of the country so much because of their work. Normally when they were back in the country, it was only for a week or two at most.

"What's going on here?"

Both Janet and Tim froze when a new voice joined the living room. The two looked up from their places on the floor at Jack Drake, who was leaning against the doorway.

"Oh, hi Dad!" Tim said cheerfully with a more demure smile as he sat up to address his father, not noticing how Janet's hands stayed wrapped subtly around him, continuing to hold him close.

"Just cataloging the latest shipment from our last dig," Janet said impassively with a slight shrug of her shoulders and her expression aloof. "Timber was helping me with photographs for the journal."

Jack regarded the several Polaroid photos resting on the table with the Mesopotamian vase. "Is that a fact?" he asked as he sauntered into the room, getting closer to the two of them.

Even as Tim unconsciously leaned closer to his father, sitting up straighter and drawn out of his mother's embrace, Janet pulled her hands reluctantly back into her lap, one hand folded neatly over the other, while her sharp blue eyes stayed on her husband and watched every move he made.

There was a tense moment of silence in the air between the three of them as Jack picked up one of his son's photos to review. His eyes flickered between the vase and the photograph. "Not bad," he finally said with a small smile of approval. "The image is in frame and in focus, the balance between light and shadow isn't bad, and the quality is fairly decent for a simple Polaroid." He handed the photo to his son, who regarded him with wide-eyed amazement. "Good job."

"Wow! Thanks Dad!" Tim said brightly, practically glowing at the rare praise. Marginally, Janet relaxed the tension in her hands and released the breath she'd been holding.

Jack nodded. "C'mon over here. Let me show you what else to take pictures of on a piece like this." 

For about twenty minutes, Jack had his son's undivided attention as he instructed Tim on what details deserved close-up shots on the vase and several other pieces Janet had unpacked earlier. He also offered several detailed critiques on a couple of earlier photos that had not turned out well at all, explaining exactly how he thought they went wrong and how to avoid such errors in the future. If the boy had wilted a bit under the heavy-handed criticisms, his father didn't seem to notice.

All the while, Janet was silent and off to the side as she busied herself with unpacking the other boxes and making her notes, though she kept a weather eye on both her husband and her son. 

As Jack was helping Tim line up a new shot of a statue that Janet had just unboxed, a phone rang. Jack reached into his pocket and glanced at the screen. "I need to take this," he said as he rose to his feet and made his way out of the living room. While Tim's focus was completely absorbed on the statue he was photographing for his father, Janet's eyes followed Jack until he was completely out of view. Only when he was gone did she fully relax.

For about ten minutes, all was right in their world. Tim was happily snapping photographs without a care in the world. Janet was watching over her son with a content smile on her face as he occasionally came over to share his better shots with her for the journal.

Everything was fine.

Then everything wasn't.

"Janet," Jack's voice cut through the peaceful quiet of the living room. Both mother and son looked up to see him standing in the doorway again. This time, he did not re-enter it. There was also something in the tone of man's voice that seemed... off. "We need to talk."

Tim, who'd been kneeling beside his mother, pressed against her side as they compared which photo to add to the journal next, noticed Janet stiffen at the sound of her name. "Momma?" However, when the boy glanced at her face, her expression was reassuring as looked at him and stroked his hair. 

"It's alright, Timber," she said softly before pressing a kiss to the crown of his head. Then she glanced around until she zeroed in on a small crate that was opened, but hadn't been unpacked. "Can you do me a favor?"

"Favor?"

Janet pulled the crate closer. "This box has a bunch of broken pieces that we think makes up flat relief sculpture." She reached in and pulled a shard of red stone about the size of Janet's palm that had the partial image of what looked like a lion's head. "Can you unpack this and see if you can't start fitting some of the pieces together? I know how good you are with puzzles." She smiled at her son.

And Tim smiled back with a nod. "Okay!"

As soon as she knew her son was preoccupied, Janet rose to her feet and followed her husband out of the living room.

   Piecing together the relief sculpture kept Tim busy for quite awhile. He didn't realize how long, though, until his stomach rumbled. The boy lifted his head from the halfway completed puzzle and blinked owlishly at the clock sitting on a nearby end table. It was at least a good hour past their usual lunchtime and neither his mother nor his father had returned to the living room yet.

Sitting back on his heels, Tim looked around uneasily. The spacious room suddenly seemed too big, too cold, and too quiet for just him. He was suddenly reminded of how different his parent's spacious immaculate, almost antiseptic English manor-style house was from his Nana's smaller, Victorian-styled cottage. Back there, every room was filled with signs of life. Nana's knitting or sewing projects sat on the sofa or at her favorite window seat. Music from the radio or a show on the TV was filtering in from one room or another. Tim's toys and books were scattered haphazardly here and there. The wonderful aromas of homecooked meals or baked goods were always wafting on the air. 

Suddenly, Tim felt very homesick. He loved his parents very much, but he really didn't like their home, especially when he was alone.

"Mom? Dad?"

There was no answer to his nervous calls.

His interest in the relief sculpture completely gone for now, Tim got to his feet and tried to ignore the queasy feeling in his stomach as he walked out of the living room and into the hallway. 

"Momma?"

Tim wandered down the hall, peeking into the adjoining rooms but not seeing his parents anywhere. They weren't in his father's office or the kitchen or the dining room. A momentary spike of fear stabbed through the boy's heart. 

"Did they leave me?!"

But as soon as the thought crossed his mind, he shoved it into the furthest recesses of his mind with a shake of his head.

"No. If they left the house the security system would've beeped. It always beeps if someone goes in or out."

Tim finally noticed his parents' bedroom at the far end of the hallway, just across the hall from his own bedroom. The door was slightly ajar and light from the room cut into the dimly lit hallway. And, much to the boy's relief, he heard the sound of voices coming from inside.

"Mom? Dad?" 

Tim knocked on the door before entering, but the action also served to nudge the door further open inward. Normally he wouldn't dare to intrude upon his parents in their bedroom and invite his father's ire, but he was too uneasy and desperate to not be alone in that great big house anymore.

Unfortunately, the uneasy feeling did not dissipate once the door was open. 

Jack and Janet were both in the bedroom, but something was very wrong. His mother was in his father's arms, sobbing softly with one hand clamped over her mouth to muffle the sound even as Jack stroked her hair in a comforting gesture. He did spare a quick glance at his son, eyes narrowed slightly with irritation for a split moment at the unexpected intrusion before disappearing with a blink into a more neutral expression.

Tim would've been immediately cowed by the brief look his father shot him, except he was more alarmed by the state his mother was in. "Momma?! What's wrong?!" Despite his own growing distress, Tim didn't dare enter the bedroom without being invited. He looked immediately to his father. "Dad?!"

Jack sighed as he glanced away from his son, turning his visual attention to the still crying woman in his arms who was trying desperately to regain some semblance of self-control. "It's your grandmother," Jack said distantly. "I just got a call from the hospital."

"Nana?" Tim whispered as he felt his chest tighten uncomfortably, and the earlier queasiness in his stomach intensified. "Why did the hospital call? Is she still sick? Does she have to stay longer?"

"Oh baby," Janet whimpered as she turned her red-rimmed eyes to Tim. She pulled herself away from Jack's embrace and reached out for her son. Jack stepped back as the boy cautiously walked into the room and reluctantly filled the space in his mother's arms. 

After Janet gave him a small nod and motioned with her eyes toward the door, Jack nodded back and exited the bedroom, closing the door behind him. Though the heavy wooden barrier muffled most of the sound, he knew the moment his wife delivered the tragic news to their son, a completely indifferent expression on his face to the sound of his child's heartbroken sobs as he walked back to the living room to finish the last of the cataloging that had been interrupted. 

Author's Notes:

Author's Note: I took the title of this chapter "One Bad Day" partially from a concept introduced by the Batman storyline "The Killing Joke". The idea is that all it took was "one bad day" in their respective lives to create both the Batman and the Joker. Of course, Bruce Wayne's "one bad day" was the murder of his parents. Who knows what Joker's true "one bad day" was, though there are several possibilities in canon.

In this AU, Tim Drake's "one bad day" was when he was told his grandmother had died and he was suddenly and cruelly ripped from her care and forced into the care of his parents, not knowing his father was a manipulative abusive liar. If it hadn't been for that event, Tim would have never been set on the path that would lead him to becoming the third Robin and joining Bruce Wayne's war on the crime and all the grief that followed him afterwards.

#tim drake#tam fox#tim/tam#red robin#fanfiction#wip#rr: in hindsight#batfam#batfamily#lucius fox#bruce wayne

[zweiginator]

Unknown Pleasures- Brian x Reader

Summary: Buying a vintage guitar on a whim was a seemingly bad idea, until you find Brian, who agrees to teach you a thing or two about playing. 

Word Count: 5,074 (my god i apologize)

Warning: ABSOLUTELY FILTHY: unprotected sex, fingering, oral sex (male receiving) 

You had never been very musically inclined--you’d always been a listener, resting your head against the car window as a deep, mellow bass coursed through your body, your father playing oldies on the tinny car radio. Letting the cutting sound of the cymbals, the ferocious beat of a drum solo almost sync with your heartbeat as you listened in your room, alone. But the guitar had an unprecedented intrigue that left you in your flat, short of a few hundred dollars and staring at a semi-pristine, vintage guitar. You didn’t regret the purchase entirely, but you had definitely bought it on a whim.

You were walking through London alone--it was the first warm day of the new year and you longed to stroll through the city without an umbrella or a huge coat or soaked socks. Your feet tapped against the pavement as people pushed through you--eager to get to the train. Strangers in black coats whizzed past you, shoving against your shoulder, stepping on your shoelaces, glaring at you as you did the same to them. It was busy and stressful and you wanted to get away--so you sped to the first store you could find, jaywalking through morning traffic into a music store which was adorned with a crooked neon sign, flickering red against the clean storefront window. Vintage drum sets lined the back wall, drumsticks decorously hung on the walls. The lighting was harsh and the store smelled musty, but you felt welcome, calm. Your fingers absentmindedly strummed thick nylon strings of bass guitars leaned in a corner--and then you saw a guitar, alone in a display case, golden yellow, barely used.

“It’s a 1950 Fender, shipped in from California--she’s something, isn’t she?” A stout man said from behind you, wearing grey trousers and a formal-looking shirt. He looked out of place--but then, so did you.

“I love the color,” You admired, looking at the rustic metal, oxidized slightly, near the frets.

“Fender began in the late 40s, so this is a pretty early model. This specific sort is hard to come by in Europe, or really anywhere else. Sales of them surged at the birth of rock n’ roll in the 50s.” The man fished in his pocket, pulling out a keyring. He fiddled with a small brass key, unlocking the tall display case.

“Oh, I can’t play guitar, I was just admiring.” You blushed slightly, scratching the backs of your hands with your chipped nails.

“You could always learn. Just hold it. You’ll be surprised how natural it feels.” He smiled, picking up the guitar delicately, holding the neck with one hand, the curved yellow body with the other. He placed it in your arms, and he was right. It felt innate, warm even. The body was smooth, almost silky against your fingers, the strings rough and ridged.

“I’ll take it.”

And you bought it, without thinking about the fact you had never touched a guitar in your life. So you stared at it, sitting on the kitchen counter, still in its case--it’s makeshift cradle. You sighed, and took a bite of your toast, tying your hair back as you stood up to play with your new instrument. You lifted the buckles of the leather case--which the salesman gave to you for free, insisting you give a proper home to such a vintage beauty. You lifted the guitar, putting the strap over your body, already confused. You didn’t even know how to hold it properly. You felt awkward, helpless and stupid, unable to finger the frets correctly. You knew nothing about music notes, composition, the technical skills it took to actually play guitar.

“Y/N, what the hell is that?” Your flatmate, Janie set her purse down, it’s silver buckle clicking against the counter, where your new-old Fender once sat.

“It’s a guitar.” You mumbled, frustrated by how off-kilter the instrument sounded. It was flat--or sharp--you had no clue.

“I know, but you can’t play guitar. You’ve never shown interest in playing the guitar. How much was that?” She sat down across from you, eyebrows furrowed as she fixed her bangs, shaking her head slightly.

“I’ve always loved guitar, and I don’t want to talk about the price.” You glared up at her, your fingers splayed against the neck of it, definitely and completely wrong.

“Okay, forget I asked.” Janie rolled her eyes. “Well, speaking of music, Jonathan is taking photos of a band tonight at their concert. They’re up and coming I guess, so you can learn a few things from them maybe?” She nudged you, getting up to change her outfit.

You set the Fender down in its case, following her to her room. It was unorganized--accessories trailed around her desk, earrings mismatched, necklaces tangled. Scarves hung from a hook by her door, clothing was everywhere. She sat on her bed, pulling her boots off, sighing.

“When is it?” You asked, desperate to actually use your guitar; you felt guilty for buying it. Maybe you could learn a thing or two if you were close enough to the stage--and Jonathan, Janie’s younger brother--always had front row seats to take his pictures.

“Uh, I think at 8, maybe half past.” She put in hoop earrings and they jingled against her neck. “I heard the band is really good, actually.”

At eight sharp, you and Janie met Jonathan at the venue, a small theatre in west London which looked better equipped for a play than a rock concert. Velvet seats were lined before the stage, cramped together and deep red. You guys were the first in the small theatre, save for the band and stage crew. You could hear the resonating of the bass vibrating in the stuffy air as Jonathan focused on his camera, brows knitted together as he dragged on a hand rolled cigarette, tiny billows of smoke fanning throughout the immense room.

“I don’t like you smoking those, Jon.” Janie snatched the cigarette from his mouth, salt and pepper colored ash sprinkling the floor as she did.

“Oi! What the fuck, Jane? I’m an adult, let me live. I didn’t have to invite you to this. Rolling Stone said they’re the new Led Zeppelin, this is pretty elite shit.” Jonny grabbed his cigarette back, cupping a hand around the burning end of it, using his other hand to relight it as his camera hung, angled around his long neck.

A blond peeked his head out from behind the velvet curtain, the thick rope tassel swaying as did his hair. “Jonny boy, do you have another smoke?” He flashed a cute smile, holding a hand out, a white sweatband tight against his forearm. Jonathan playfully rolled his eyes, flipping open a rusted metal box to fetch him one.

“Good luck with the high notes with tar in your lungs, Rog.” Jonathan pat his back, giving him a light. Roger winked at you and Janie before disappearing behind the curtain.

“Is that the singer?” Janie yelled, scooting closer to her brother’s ears, as people began to file in as the clock was soon to strike 8:30.

“No, Roger is the drummer. He helps with the really high notes, his range is insane.” Jonny nodded his head before flicking the butt of his cigarette out of his fingers, putting it out with his leather shoes.

The music began to permeate the theatre, the thick bass rhythmic and warm, the guitar screeching, delayed, effortless. They were about to begin. Soon Jonathan was pulling you guys forward so you were flush against the stage, your necks craned up as he snapped pictures of their figures, emerging onto the stage like ghosts, nearly invisible.

“The singer is Freddie. Mercury. He’s very different, but in a good way. And he has quite the stage presence.” Jonathan explained, wiping his lens with his shirt quickly. “Roger, like I said, is the drummer. Cocky, very funny, kind of a slut.” He nodded towards the drum kit, where the blond was warming up, flipping splintered drumsticks between his fingers. “The bassist is John. Everyone calls him Deacon or Deaky. He’s shyer, but very friendly, super talented, he never misses a beat. You just have to wait for him to open up to you.” Then he nodded his head to the tallest of them all, with poofy, almost black curly hair, mouth parted as he strummed at a guitar which looked antithetical to your own. It was a red oakey color, classy and unique. “That’s Brian, the guitarist. Rumor has it he and his dad made that guitar from a fireplace and old motorcycle parts. Read in in Rolling Stone. He’s mad talented, acts like playing hard rock on the guitar is the easiest thing ever.”

Janie nudged you as you watched the band intently, their warm-up messy but somehow cohesive, communicative. “Maybe you can learn a bit from him, yeah?”

You did learn something--that you would never, ever learn to play guitar even one-eighth as good as him. His playing was relaxed, no matter how technically difficult. His fingers were assured, his face contorted in concentration, plump lips parted as he moved about the stage. Your neck hurt, perpetually craned upwards as you followed his legs around the stage, which seemed to take up more than three quarters of his massive stature.

As the concert ended, Roger cocked his head, drumsticks between his teeth as he deconstructed his kit, motioning for you guys to head backstage. Jonny raised his eyebrows, giving the drummer a thumbs up before leading you and Janie up onto the stage. It was hot and foggy and hard to see, but a beacon of light was being emitted from behind the side-curtains, so you followed it.

Jonathan and Janie beat you to the band, and he was already enthusing about the show, gesturing towards his camera, still hung around his neck. “The photos are incredible. I can’t wait for you to see them, I just have a feeling about them; it’s not often bands have such good chemistry, and I think it shows in the pictures.” He nodded, and Freddie kissed his cheek.

“I can’t wait! We don’t have many photos together.” He took a sip of champagne, clicking his class with Deaky’s who was dripping from sweat, ridding himself of his stage costume, in favor of a quite plain t-shirt.

Brian was silent next to you all, an abiding smile glowing upon his rosy face. His hand tapped nervously against his guitar, white nails scratching gently over the polished, wooden surface. You made eye-contact and strode closer to him, your hair blowing by the fan which was cooling the band down.

“You’re really talented,” You said, trying to raise your voice enough so he could hear. He blushed and pointed to his ears, shaking his head as a cue for you to speak up.

“Sorry, it’s really noisy, can’t hear too well after a concert.” Brian said, straight into your ear. He led you to a back room, with backup drumsticks, guitars, and broken microphones. His hand hovered over your lower back. “What were you saying?” He cocked an eyebrow at you.

“I was just saying you’re talented.”

“Oh, thank you. I’m glad you think so.” Brian sat down on a small couch, and scooted over for you to sit down next to him. He looked uncomfortable, nervous.

“I actually bought a guitar this morning--on a whim.” You sat down, the side of your legs were touching, the velvet of his pants soft against your bare legs. “I don’t know the first thing about playing music, so I’m not sure why I bought it.”

“What kind of guitar? Do you know?” Brian leaned into the conversation, fluttering his eyelashes as he listened intently for your answer.

“I guess a Fender. 1950. It’s yellow, and I guess I couldn’t resist.” You smiled, looking at your hands which rested on your knees. His hand brushed against your knee as he gestured with his hands.

“1950? I’d love to see that, or play it! I’ve always wanted to experiment with one.” He composed himself, annoyed that he had gotten overly excited, like he always did.

“Actually, I’d love for you to give me lessons, maybe? Don’t worry about it if you’re busy. But I don’t even know the first thing about guitars.”

Brian nodded, his curls bouncing against his forehead, brushing against his cheeks. He thumbed the charm on his silver necklace, a small, abstract shape which hung from his sweaty, lengthy neck. “I’d love to. It probably needs tuned. I can help you to get situated with it tonight, if you want.”

You hesitated, taking in Brian’s face. His eyes were drooping, he was blinking slowly, yawning into his arm, covered by long bell sleeves.

“Are you sure? You seem tired.”

“I’m fine, don’t worry about me. I never get sleep anyway.” He flashed you a smile, getting up and grabbing his guitar case which sat up against an exposed brick wall. He tucked his coat under his arm and led you out of the small room, back where the rest of the band was.

“Um, I’m going to help Y/N with her new guitar. Don’t wait up on us.” Brian took a quick sip of water from a glass sitting atop a broken amp, squeezing Deaky’s shoulders. The boys raised their eyebrows in unison, then collectively said their goodbyes.

Brian’s hand was on the small of your back, leading you out of the theater, into the cool spring air. It felt fresh, the smell of rain was raw and wet in your noses, the sky impossibly clear, illuminated by the occasional star, and downturned street lights lining the pavement.

“How did you know my name, Brian?” You looked up at his face which was watching the sky, his jawline prominent, his nose sharp like his cheekbones. But his eyes were soft and nice, his eyebrows gave him a friendly, approachable--very handsome look.

“I heard Jonathan. My hearing’s not so bad before the concerts.” He looked away from the sky to grin at you, his canines protruding slightly from his light pink lips, slightly chapped.

“And how did you know my name?” Brian teased, lightly pushing you to the side; you stumbled a bit, giggling.

“You’re a rockstar, aren’t you? Up and coming? Why wouldn’t I?”

He blushed, looking down at his shoes--scuffed white clogs, which were loud against the street. You walked up the stairs to your flat, fresh dandelions peeking through the cracks. Brian picked one, putting it in his unruly hair, smiling at you wordlessly. You were flustered being near him, your hands a bit shaky as you unlocked the door, letting him in. He hung his coat on the rack, taking yours to hang next to his, waiting until the wobbly piece of furniture was stable before strolling into the living room. He gasped as he saw the guitar case, setting his own down on the couch.

“May I?” His fingers hovered over the buckles of the case, looking at you, his mouth slightly agape.

“You know more than I do.” You nodded, eager.

He opened the case, flipping the buckles up with his thumbs before opening the top. “Damn, that’s nice.” He commented, looking towards you again, a silent ask for permission to get the instrument out. You nodded, scooting closer to him as he picked up the guitar carefully, just like the man who sold it to you. His fingers were wrapped around the neck of it, and he pulled a coin out of his front pocket, lifting his hips for leverage as he held onto your guitar tightly. He looked at you again, a barely audible, breathy laugh emitting from his parted lips as he strummed the chords to Keep Yourself Alive. He played for only a few seconds before he cringed and turned the tuning pegs slightly, playing after every small adjustment to listen to the sound.

“It’s very out of tune, but I can fix that.” He smiled at you reassuringly, holding his ear to the guitar to listen closely to the sounds. He turned each peg very slightly and with care.

“Perfect” He whispered, before getting back to his playing. He made it look so easy, his fingers gripping a rusted coin, strumming quickly, with painful precision. You looked at his face which was sinfully beautiful, eyes hooded, eyelashes fluttering against his cheekbones as his hair shifted like his fingers--quickly and gracefully.

“Do you want me to show you something easy? We can go slow,” He looked into your eyes, his hazel irises sparkling. The dandelion was still in his hair, placed haphazardly, almost falling out.

“That would be great, Brian.” You watched him as he took the guitar from off of his lithe body, handing it to you as if it were your child. You held onto it as he did, looking at him through your eyelashes for approval. He gently nodded and you held onto it tightly. He handed you his coin.

“It’s lucky, I like to think.” His breath fanned over your neck, warming the skin, and you felt blood rush to your face, streaming through your ears, hot. You took the coin, your fingertips brushing his, and he brushed your hair behind your shoulder, peeking over it to see what you were doing.

“Relax, try not to hold it so tightly. You can be looser.” He looked at you from over your shoulder as he sat behind you, his socks mismatched, his hair messy, lips parted in a small, pretty smile.

“Put your fingers on the fret to the left, and a little above” He pointed to where he wanted you to have your fingers, and he lightly moved them, making your whole body tingle, like warm Christmas lights lit up throughout your limbs, your neck, everywhere. You strummed with the coin, and the sound was deep, echoic, vibrating throughout the small flat.

Then the door slammed, and the sound of Janie and the rest of the band bickering overwhelmed the robust sounds; cut the tension.

“Did we interrupt something?” Roger quirked an eyebrow, slipping his shoes off as he hung his coat overtop of Brian’s.

“I was just helping Y/N with her guitar,” He scratched his neck, looking guilty. “Hey! Don’t put your soaked coat on top of my perfectly dry one!”

Roger mocked him and moved it to a different hook, rolling his eyes before sitting down between you and Brian. As soon as the door had opened, Brian moved away from you like a reflex, like he had something to hide.

“Nice guitar, Y/N!” Deaky sat on Brian’s leg, admiring the yellow coat as Roger strummed it mindlessly. You thanked him, biting the parched skin from your lips, pushing your hair behind your ears.

Brian grabbed Deaky’s shoulders and got up from underneath him, sitting with you on the other end of the couch. “Here’s my number,” he grabbed a pen from the kitchen and grabbed a small, torn slip of paper, writing it down on the hard, bony surface of his knee. Your knees were against his; they were velvety and tepid.

And then they left, giving you and Janie small waves, their rings sparkling in the ambient light of the foyer of the flat. Brian gave you a toothy smile, slightly lopsided and thoroughly adorable.

__

You called Brian the next day--midday. Your fingers twirled the coiled phone cord which reminded you of his curly locks which you found yourself thinking about more than once.

“Hello?” Brian’s voice was groggy, and you heard him yawn and groan a little. Tiredness was seeped into his every word.

“Oh! I’m sorry to wake you up, Brian. I’ll leave you alone.” You apologized.

“No! No, It’s fine. I should be awake anyway. My sleep schedule is just off. I’m glad it was you who woke me up instead of Roger though.” Brian laughed softly, running a hand through his hair as he leaned against the wall, as you were.

“I’d love to learn more, if you’re up to it. Janie is out, so we don’t have to worry about bugging her.”

Those words made Brian’s stomach flip and his tongue feel much heavier in his mouth; he felt the words becoming choked, stuck in his throat, still dry from just waking up.

“I’ll come over as soon as I’m decent.” He replied, only able to utter a few words at a time. You muttered a small ‘okay’ and hung up, quickly fixing your hair and changing into a skirt and a nicer, tighter shirt. You didn’t know why you did; it was just a guitar lesson.

Twenty five minutes after your call with Brian ended, he was at your door, wearing an oversized winter coat, a hood pulled over his head. His skin was wet from the steady afternoon rain, and he apologetically handed you a purple umbrella as he hung his heavy coat up. You shook the umbrella dry and your eyes widened as you saw what he was wearing. His forearms were tanned, contrasting from a light denim shirt which was rolled up, halfway buttoned. His chest and collarbones were angular, sharp bones protruding from barely freckled skin. He was wearing slightly flared trousers and his clogs--which were already taken off and by the door.

He pointed an agile finger to the couch you sat on the day before with him, and you got him a glass of water, watching him chug it down as you bent down to pick your guitar from it’s temporary home on the floor, against the kitchen counter in it’s tattered case. He gulped as you bent down, looking away, feigning interest on an arbitrary book in your bookcase--something about painting. You sat down next to him, perched at the edge of the couch, a few inches away from him. His legs were spread as he leaned back against the cushions, watching you intently as you strummed the chords he taught you. Your tongue poked out slightly.

“I think it would be easier if you sat between my legs. So I can show you more easily.” He clarified, his hands ghosting over your hips. You nodded and he pulled you back into him, easily. Your breath hitched as his fingers ghosted over yours. You could hear the blood pulsing through your extremities, flooding to your heart and away from your brain. He pressed his nimble fingers over yours, pulling them over the frets, making your other fingers strum gently, fingering the tough strings slowly, with expert precision. His fingers left yours to pull your hair behind your shoulder, and the soft ends of his own hair stroked your shoulder, moving across your exposed collarbone. His forefinger and thumb titled your chin, turning your face towards his. And you looked at his mouth, peach lips wet, his chin was peppered with day-old stubble. He leaned in, still holding your chin as his tongue entered your mouth, warm and gentle, massaging yours with a confident, tender control. He pulled the guitar strap over your shoulder, and then your head, gently setting the instrument in its case, which sat open on the floor by the couch. You leaned back into him, your back flush against his hot chest, his heart beating against your shoulder blade as he kissed you passionately, his teeth lightly clicking against yours as he deepened it even more. Your hand squeezed his narrow thigh, just above his knee. His hand left your chin and you leaned your head back as he kissed the junction of your neck and your shoulder, nipping softly at your collarbone. His hand massaged your thigh, just under your denim skirt. You whimpered slightly as his hand inched upwards, clean nails scratching gently against the inside of your soft thighs. He stopped kissing you and looked up at you with innocent eyes, dilated and fluttering with anticipation and lust. You kissed his neck, a silent command for him to continue. He unzipped your skirt, rubbing his hands over your hips as he pulled it down your legs which were moderately shaking, ready. He looped his fingers in your panties and pulled them down too, tossing them by the guitar case; they caught on the end of the neck. He kissed you again, moaning into your mouth as his thumb massaged your thigh more. He brought his fingers to your mouth, parting your lips. His incredibly long fingers entered your warm, wet mouth pressing down on your tongue. You closed your mouth around them, sucking his digits. He whimpered and your eyes fluttered closed.

“Look at me, angel.”

You opened them again, tilting your head back to make eye contact with him. His brows were furrowed, he was watching you intently. You could feel him harden against your bare lower back. He tapped your chin, signaling for you to open your mouth and you did. His fingers left from between your lips, a string of saliva connecting his beautiful fingers with your bitten, kissed mouth. He rubbed at your entrance and your hips bucked up, he held them down with his other arm, veins protruding, pulsing under his tanned skin, dark against the light denim shirt he was wearing. You held his wrist as he fingered you, pumping two long digits into your heat, slowly, deliberately. Your other hand held on to his necklace, gently tugging the delicate silver chain between your fingers.

“Brian,” Your grip tightened on his wrist, you could feel his pulse racing against your fingers, and still against your shoulder, where his chest was.

He pumped faster, curling his fingers, tickling a spot inside of you that made you scream, pulling on his necklace harder. Your knuckles were white as you moaned.

“Do you want another one?” Brian whispered against your neck, before kissing your neck gently.

You nodded, unable to form words, you were too aroused, too close.

“Use your words.” He commanded, tilting your head back again.

“Yes, Brian. Please, one more.” You pleaded with him, scratching your nails down his forearm. He was rock hard behind you, leaking onto his trousers which were becoming increasingly tight. He pulled his fingers out and you groaned in protest, feeling empty, disappointed. He sucked his own fingers and you turned around so you were face to face. Beads of sweat were dripping from his temple, he was panting. You looked down at his crotch. The outline of his cock was staggeringly obvious, thick, and long.

You sat on your feet in front of him on the couch, the rough rug scratching at your knees. You unbuttoned his trousers and pulled them down his thin legs, until they pooled at his feet. He was going commando; his dick slapped against his toned stomach which was visible, as he had unbuttoned his shirt during the process of you undressing him. You smirked at him and he shrugged his shoulders.

“They’re tight pants,”

You leaned forward on your knees and looked up at him as you spit on his tip, before you swirled your tongue around the head, sucking on it gently. He pulled on your hair and whined.

“Oh--my god,” He stuttered, his hips doing the same.

You stroked him as you took him into your mouth, as deep as you could take him, his length pulsing at the back of your throat. He guided your head, pulling your hair into a messy, makeshift ponytail. It was sloppy and your eyes were watering from the pressure in your throat, but you moaned around him, before licking a stripe on his shaft and focusing your attention on the head again, rubbing your thumb against a sensitive strip of skin on the underside of him. His eyes were heavy, his eyelashes fluttering as he whimpered quietly.

“I’m gonna cum, baby,” He announced, and you halted your movements, payback for him doing the same to you. You took him out of your mouth with a pop and he rolled his eyes, leaning forward before pulling you up on the couch, sitting you on this lap. Your hands rested on his chest, fidgeting with his necklace as he kissed down your neck and pulled your shirt over your head. He took your bra off with one hand, laying you down on the couch. He rubbed down your chest, licking at your nipple as he tweaked the other one, your back arching at his touch. His curls tickled your sternum, and you moaned as he rubbed himself against your entrance, teasing you.

“I don’t have a condom.” He realized, looking up at you with widened eyes.

“I don’t care.” You threaded your fingers through his hair and pulled him up, kissing him deeply, pulling his locks. He was putty in your hands as you massaged his scalp, whining as he thrust into you, his forearms resting by your head as he stared into your eyes, his mouth open, jagged, uneven breaths leaving his bruised lips. He was so deep, and you scratched down his back, whimpering as he thrust into you forcefully, moaning into his mouth.

His hips stuttered as you clenched around him, pulling at his hair swiftly.

“Fuck,” He cried, slowing down his thrusts to savor his approaching orgasm. “You’re so tight,”

You grabbed his face and wrapped your legs around his waist, locking your ankles, encouraging him to thrust faster. He did, and all you could hear was panting, strangled moans and his skin slapping against yours. You felt him pulsing inside of you and he groaned from deep within his throat, still scratchy from just waking up. He was about to pull out, but you pushed your heels into his back and shook your head, permission for him to do exactly what he wanted. He came immediately, and you felt full as his seed oozed down your leg, thick and hot. He collapsed on top of you, panting, and you stroked his hair. He was still inside of you for a few minutes, catching his breath. When he pulled out, more of his cum leaked out of you, and it covered him, sticky and semi-dried. His chest was blotchy and fiery hot.

He grabbed a kitchen cloth and soaked it with warm water, cleaning himself off before he wiped you down, you flinching from overstimulation. You both were in bliss, until you saw a massive wet spot on the couch that would be impossible to remove.

____

Taglist: @silencedleviathan @alexfayer @ledger-kaos @ma-ntequilla @discodeakky @richiethotzierz @thisloveisreal1 @heartsarecompatible @thelondondreamer5 @brian-may-brian-may @okqueenie @gailymlee @trickster-blr @bubblypenguin123 @queensdarlingg @soloosunflower @dvndermifflinassociate @fredthelegend @miez-lakatz @arrowswithwifi @mouse507 @mespetitestortues @yourstateofdreaming (sorry if i missed someone! message me if you want to be added)

[madelinemurphy680-blog]

Surf a Popular Way To Sea

Stand up paddle boarding (SUP) is FUN! The use of stand up paddle boards has had a huge increase in popularity recently. While it is a different surfing style some surfers say it might be easier than traditional surfing. These boards were first used for learning to surf, but as time passed it developed into its own sport. It gives you an opportunity to enjoy the unique view of the water and it can be used in more than just ocean waters - you can use a paddle board in rivers, bays and lakes to have tons of fun while getting a great workout. Another reason for SUP's popularity is that you can do this anywhere there is water. Stand up paddling grew popular in Hawaii and was mainly developed by surfers. But it has since come mainland onto all continents and is being done not only on oceans and bays but on rivers and lakes as well. Stand up paddling can be done on flat water, rough water, across boat wakes and in river currents. And windy days just give you a little more exercise. In a nod to the tougher economy, the ticket price for the Ft. Myers Boat Show 2009 has been reduced this year, to $7.00; kids under 12 get in free. Although there is every possible type of boat for sale, from kayaks to yachts, there is so much more to do, see and learn, for the whole family. For pure shopping, the boat show has vendors selling everything related to boating, fishing, diving, skiing, and the newest rage, learn how to surf using a SUP. Marine finance and insurance companies will be on hand for the serious buyer. History buffs enjoy learning about the local landmarks with the http://www.standuppaddleboarding.co.uk/supboard-guide the Downtown Surf City USA Historic Tour with Chris Epting. He'll take you from the boom town of the 1920s when oil was discovered here and tell you about the Golden Bear Nightclub of the 50s and 60s, now a Subway's, where Janis Joplin and Jimi Hendrix played. If you are planning to spend some time on the beach and want to enjoy surfing in a unique way, SUP is the right choice for you. Make sure that you purchase the right set of equipment and have the finest quality of stand up paddle boards brisbane. SUP boards are made of fiberglass, epoxy or carbon fiber and generally very large in size. An SUP may be eight feet to fourteen feet in length. Good quality paddles are also required to propel SUP and paddle boards. While an SUP may cost you anywhere between $1000 to $3000, the paddles for SUP range between $100 to $300. Physical fitness is something that we all need to be concerned about but it so hard to stay with an exercise program. People every year join a gym but then stop going within a few months. It is not really a surprise that they quit because they do not truly enjoy what they are doing. Eventually even the effort of driving across town seems too great. The secret to losing weight and getting in better shape is simply to find something that you enjoy doing. Stand Up Paddle Boarding water sports may be the answer. It is a great way to enjoy the fresh air, see the sights and gradually get in shape without injury. Tune your skis/board. If you have not done so already, make sure your board or skis are ready to go for next season. Put a layer of storage wax on the bases and make sure that you scrape off any excess on the edges. summer camp activities, modern stand, boarding began making

[molliebalshawlevel4]

Artist Research

                                           Barnett Newman, 1949

What is the explanation of the seemingly insane drive of man to be painter and poet if it is not an act of defiance against man's fall and an assertion that he return to the Garden of Eden? For the artists are the first men.

— Barnett Newman

Newman wrote catalogue forewords and reviews and also organized exhibitions before becoming a member of the Uptown Group and having his first solo show at the Betty Parsons Gallery in 1948. Soon after his first exhibition, Newman remarked in one of the Artists' Session at Studio 35: "We are in the process of making the world, to a certain extent, in our own image." Utilizing his writing skills, Newman fought to reinforce his newly established image as an artist and to promote his work. An example is his letter on April 9, 1955, "Letter to Sidney Janis: ...it is true that Rothko talks the fighter. He fights, however, to submit to the philistine world. My struggle against bourgeois society has involved the total rejection of it."

Throughout the 1940s he worked in a surrealist vein before developing his mature style. This is characterised by areas of color separated by thin vertical lines, or "zips" as Newman called them. In the first works featuring zips, the color fields are variegated, but later the colors are pure and flat. Newman himself thought that he reached his fully mature style with the Onement series (from 1948). The zips define the spatial structure of the painting, while simultaneously dividing and uniting the composition. Already 1944 Barnett Newman tried to explain America's newest art movement and included a list of "the men in the new movement." Ex-Surrealists, like Matta are mentioned, Wolfgang Paalen Paalen is mentioned twice together with Gottlieb, Rothko, Pollock, Hofmann, Baziotes, Gorky and others. Motherwell is mentioned with a question mark.

The zip remained a constant feature of Newman's work throughout his life. In some paintings of the 1950s, such as The Wild, which is eight feet tall by one and a half inches wide (2.43 meters by 4.1 centimeters), the zip is all there is to the work. Newman also made a few sculptures which are essentially three-dimensional zips.

Although Newman's paintings appear to be purely abstract, and many of them were originally untitled, the names he later gave them hinted at specific subjects being addressed, often with a Jewish theme. Two paintings from the early 1950s, for example, are called Adam and Eve, and there is also Uriel (1954) and Abraham (1949), a very dark painting, which as well as being the name of a biblical patriarch, was also the name of Newman's father, who had died in 1947.

The Stations of the Cross series of black and white paintings (1958–66), begun shortly after Newman had recovered from a heart attack, is usually regarded as the peak of his achievement. The series is subtitled "Lema sabachthani" - "why have you forsaken me" - the last words spoken by Jesus on the cross, according to the New Testament. Newman saw these words as having universal significance in his own time. The series has also been seen as a memorial to the victims of the holocaust.