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This blog is friends-locked, meaning not everybody can read it. Fanfic stuff though will not be locked. Feel free to friend me if you want to. I don't mind new friends but please let me know who you are first. If you want to more about me BEFORE diving headfirst into your doom, read my  Manual for myself . It's enlightening.

Some of the links will be to off-site.

Official Disclaimer: Most characters don't belong to me. I only borrowed them and totally intend to give them back again.

Updated: 4th September 09

( Fan and Fiction )

Are there any people from NZ or Australia on my f-list?

My parents will be traveling around in NZ next february and it would be nice to have someone tell me how things are working down under? Especially regarding caravan traveling and also flights between NZ and Australia?

So, please... anyone?

Disclaimer: Not mine. The usual.
A/N: Unbetad. *shames*

This.Is.War

The pathway lies in front of him, abandoned and empty. Weed is growing in small bushes from between the cracks. Fingers reaching up from hell. Footsteps of their predecessors still lingering on the cold pavement, vanishing fast like tear drops on a hot stone. The distance's end is marked by a few wooden steps and a lonely porch. The house already stinks and the smell carries an almost imperceptible note of sulphur. Worse than the garbage container behind their motel. The smell is invading his nostrils even though he was still standing ten yards away

„Don't worry, Sammy, I got your back.“ Dean says in a hushed voice and claps softly on his back.

„I don't want to,“ Sam whispers, feeling foolish before the last word has even left his mouth.

„You don't get to want, Sammy. This is war!“ Dean insists with a deep undertone that reminds Sammy of his father.

„I don't know, Dean. Does he really deserve this?“

„Deserve …?“ Dean's voice cracks with incredulity. “Deserve? This is exactly what he deserves, Sammy. He's a bitter old bastard. Remember Gina McDillon?”

Sammy bites his lower lip and nods. Remembers her and the tears streaming down her face. She's got a pretty butterfly painted on her right cheek and the tears make a rainbow coloured mess of it.

“Yeah,” he repeats and takes the offered weapon, carefully weighing it in his small hand until it feels familiar and warm in his palm. Then, he throws it at the same time as Dean does. Just like his brother, he aims for the front door and both eggs reach their aims, spot on, burst with an obscene splash and before he knows it, Dean grabs his elbow and pulls him swiftly along the street, the bag with purchased sweets banging hard against his calf.

From behind he can hear old Mr. Ramshak yelling and cursing in annoyance on the messy front porch. “Damn kids! I'm calling the cops, you hear me, you useless little critters?”

They run on, until their sides hurt with stitches and their breath is coming in short gasps.

“That...” Dean announces, leaning with his hands on his knees to get air back into his lungs. “... will teach that big old oaf to bark at little girls when they ask for trick or treat.”

Sammy grins happily, nods and feels accomplished.

Why Dean needs to forgive Sam! (buddytv article)

Igrnore the comments under the article! *headdesk* EDGs are EDGs after all!

Title: Dreamers and Renegades
Rating: R
Wordcount: ~12.000
Warnings: No spoilers but pretty disturbing in times.
Author's Notes: Written for spn_summergen and and more exactly se_parsons . I'm not responsible for how weird this story turned out in the end. Honestly, it totally went bitchy on me when I wanted it to go into another direction. The prompt I chose: “I’d like a story where the OCs have agency, especially some female OCs.”. The Story has been betad by the wonderful missanee. Remaining mistakes are all mine.
Genre: Angst, Drama, Humour
Summary: Rabid hillbillies, poisonous Tachos and one unlucky fellow can make a very grumpy pair of Winchesters. Notwithstanding the vicious ghost that haunts one really annoying red head.


( Part 1 )

Part 2

Der folgende Text ist eine wahre Begebenheit. Meine, wohlbemerkt.

Ich bin 28 Jahre alt, nicht ledig und Studentin. Eine von geschätzten 2.000.000 in Deutschland.

Ich bereite mich sozusagen auf die Arbeitswelt vor indem ich fleißig pauke, gute Noten anstrebe und jede Vorlesung und Übungseinheit mitnehme, die ich kriegen kann. Ja, so eine bin ich. Alkohol und Parties sind mir fremd, aber meine Noten danken es mir.

Ich habe Spaß am Studieren und sehe es als Chance, mein zukünftiges Berufsleben meinen Wünschen und meinem Können anzupassen. Ihr wißt schon, eine zukünftige Stütze für die deutsche Wirtschaft. Bisher klappt das auch ganz gut.

Ich arbeite nebenbei in der Uni als studentische Hilfskraft für 5,11€ die Stunde (Oh, Verzeihung! 5,45€. Gab ja eine Lohnerhöhung) um einigermaßen über die Runden zu kommen. Zusätzlich gebe ich Nachhilfe in einem professionellen Nachhilfeunternehmen.

Und weil ich ja elendig verhungern würde, wenn diese 450€ im Monat reichen müssten, bekomme ich außerdem Bafög. Elternunabhängig!

Hach, Bafög. Eine tolle Sache. Man bekommt Geld und muss irgendwann später etwa die Hälfte zinslos rückzahlen. Wirklich tolle Sache.

Kleiner Wermutstropfen: Es muss jedes Jahr neu beantragt werden, was ich letztes Jahr beinahe verpeilt hätte. Anyway, dieses Jahr wollte ich ganz vorbildlich sein und habe meinen Antrag inklusive aller erforderlichen Zusatzangaben bereits über zwei Monate vorher eingeschickt. Genauer gesagt ist mein Antrag am 26.06.09 im Bafög-Amt eingegangen. Und damit begann eine wahre Irrfahrt von Zusatzformularen und Bestimmungen, die Skylla und Charybdis in ihrem Schatten verblassen lassen.




Dieser Text soll aufregen. Mit Absicht und *kleiner Wink mit dem Zaunpfahl* bitte gebt die Url weiter! Ich meine es ernst mit dem publik machen!

During the last half hour bunnies were trampling like a horde of gnus over my imagination. They made me write Crack. Again! HELP!

Title: Lil' Angel, Lil' Devil
Rating: PG
Spoiler: 422, Lucifer Rising
Genre: Crack, Humor
Wordcount: ~ 400
Disclaimer: Oh God, I'm glad this is not mine. I'd be so screwed.
Summary: While Sam is facing Lilith in Lucifer Rising Little Angel and Little Devil have a little talk on his shoulder. And there's popcorn involved.

A/N: I blame today's fresh air. *headdesk*.

( Don't read more... )

Title: Hangman Coming
Author: annj_g80
Rating: PG
Warnings: none
Disclaimer: Nothing and nobody is mine except for the hard work and the English grammar atrocities.
Recipient: mlebayre
Word Count: ~ 3.000
Author’s Note: geminigrl11 did some last minute betaing and I owe her my firstborn for her awesomness *lol* Thank you! Laura, this is for you.
Prompt: mlebayre wanted "Something going into what happens after Folsom Prison Blues, how the guys dealt with prison life, what happened or could have happened during their time separated from each other," and that's what I did with it.

Summary: It's the bars that hold them separated but it's trepidation that keeps them apart.

( Prison is different. It's sharing your whole, pitiful existence with just a few walls, bars and a hundred inmates. )

This story has been written for the Summer of Sam Love Contest 2009 as you can see by the awesome banner.






Title: Patterns of a Lifetime
Author: annj_g80
Rating: PG
Warnings: none
Disclaimer: Nothing and nobody is mine except for the hard work and the English grammar atrocities.
Recipient: starrylizard
Word Count: ~ 13.000
Author’s Note: I want to say thank you to my wonderful beta blueeyedliz . You're awesome! Yet remaining mistakes are homegrown, hehe. Starrylizard, I really hope you like what I made of your prompt *chews on her fingernails*
Prompt: Sam at Stanford and there's a ghost on campus.

Summary:  There's a saying that you always meet twice in life. But sometimes even once is not granted.



( Patterns of a Lifetime - Part 1/2 )

I totally screwed today's exam. I mean, really!

In order to cheer me up I read a BigBang Fic.

Big Mistake!

Don't get me wrong. This IS an actual recommendation. But not really. I'm just saying that you really, really should read this story because... (OMG I'm crying here... *searches for tissues*)... just because.

Ten Thousand Miles by mimblexwimble 

(not)summary
This isn’t a story with a deeper meaning. There is no moral at the end. On December 28th, 2007, Sam Winchester walked out of the motel room he was sharing with his brother and never came back. This is the story of what happened after.

Why you should read it? Hm, honestly, this story is beyond painful, it's literally heartbreaking. Not in a "Oh that's so sad, sweetheart"-kinda way but I'm talking about the real stuff. The terrible car accident you can't stop looking at. You have to KNOW. It was almost like a physical drive that kept my eyes on the screen any my hands near the tissue box. Mind the warnings, though. This story kinda has side effects! Don't expect to feel good afterwards.

I'm kinda glad I can distract myself after this torture horrortrip relaxing reading session with some nice and substantial studying (Meeeh!).

Wrote this drabble eons ago. Found it again today and thought I'd post it. Didn't want to, actually, because I re-read it so often, it totally wasn't funny anymore. indiansummer17 told me it was. Funny, I mean. In case you feel bored to death, blame her. :-D

Oh and I think I was prompted to write this one based on a hysterically laughing doll on youtube. Creepy thing, that is! I just can't remember where I read the prompt though.

Title: Laugh-a-Lot
Disclaimer: Nothing is mine. Yadda yadda.


„I'm telling you, we should salt'nburn it.“

„Dean. It's a doll.“

„Yeah, a possessed one!“

„Dude!“ Sam rolled his eyes with an exasperated huff. „It's just a doll. With batteries!“

„We should saltn'burn it anyway. There's nothing wrong with salting and burning.“ He frowned, then smirked. „You're doing the same thing to your steaks, remember? With mine too, now that we're at it.“

Sam wisely chose to ignore his brother's comment. „We should just give the doll back to that kid you fucking stole it from and tell her to complain about it at Toys'R'us. I'm serious.“

The doll in front of them was starting to giggle madly in a strangely tinny voice and Dean wondered, not for the first time, how kids were not ending up in long-term therapeutic care after having to listen to it.

„Honestly, Sam. Listen to this! That's not normal.“ The doll started swinging on its rocking chair and Sam grunted, throwing the doll an irritated look. The swinging and laughing stopped abruptly and the doll sat quiet again, seemingly innocent.

Sam's brow furrowed and he made an appalled face. “You're right. Let's salt'nburn it!”

Yes, I know, I should be learning.

Shut up!

But I had this sudden rush of humourous creativity going on which just had to be written in form of a nice and compact drabble.

So, here comes the reply to this meme and The Oscar it goes to sendintheklowns 

Actually, I wanted to write a nice h/c for her. But I tend to do the hurting without the comfort which would've been ... unfitting. *hangs head in shame* So, out came this instead.

Title: Send in the Clowns *giggles* I'm feeling so clever right now.
Rating: PG for one bad word or two.
Genre: Humour
Pairing: Sam, Dean
Disclaimer: Nothing's mine. The usual. I'm just playing in the sand box.
Wordcount: 200 on the dots.


“Ghost hauntings in Disney World is totally my favourite,” Dean all but whooped, jiggling the keys with the four inch long Mickey Mouse in front of Sam's nose. “Dude. This. Is. Awesome!”

“Don't 'dude' me,” Sam replied, his voice low and tense, which didn't seem to trouble Dean in the slightest. Far from it! The older brother's eyes shone wickedly and he grinned like Christmas had come early (the non-supernatural one) while Sam took in the hotel room in all its glorious details. “You did this on purpose, man,” Sam added, still not moving from where he was standing in the doorway. “We could have gotten the freaking Mickey Mouse Suite or the Arielle one. Hell, My Little Pony, for all I care!”

“It's just wallpaper, sissy,” Dean grinned and heaved his rucksack on the first of the two beds. “And the lamp post.” He leaned down, unpacked his stuff and coughed, covering a badly restrained burst of laughter.

“Clowns, Dean! Clowns on the wall and on the lamp post and everywhere,” Sam whined, throwing the red, nose-shaped door knob an evil glance and followed, shoulders hunched. “Please, kill me now!”


Okay, then. Back to studying.

Response to this meme. This one goes to starbright73 . Hope you like it :-)

Title: As I lay me...
Spoiler: 422
Characters: Sam, Dean, Castiel
Genre: angst, drama, angsty drama
Warning: The fandom of "Supernatural" matched with "Drama" should be warning enough. Oh, and unbeta'd. Yes, this is a warning, too.
Wordcount: ~1500
Disclaimer: Nothing is mine... the usual. I'm just visiting my sandbox.
Summary: Sometimes, you have to speak out loud the question, you already have the answer to.

( The air holds the smell of earth and moss and humus. A little bit like fresh mowed grass, a fragrant scent full of the illusion of life. )

Honestly, I'm a political loser and I'm deeply ashamed of being so... ignorant of the worlds anger and pain. So here comes my little drop in the ocean. *blush* Original text by one_hoopy_frood. You might want to spread the word if you think it's worth it. You can find the code at her post here

( Read more... )

I'm feeling awkward because I totally sucked at being an lj friend the last few days. But I'm feeling better now, more stable now thanks to a few good night's sleeps, my fucking awesome boyfriend and my sister. Not to mention my beloved reekwadge , who's coming to visit in less than two weeks.

\o/

In the meantime my stresslevels are spiking again. Where the hell did this semester go? Exams are in a month and the stupid calculations for production systems don't make sense. At All! I should have become shepherdess, I knew it.

****

Also, me has new rec. *nods* Read the story this morning to procrastinate my studies. I'm pretty good at this. The procrastinating, not the studying. And here it comes:

Questhaven by spuffylvr3

Summary: After a hunt gone wrong, Sam isn’t getting better. Could a case from Dean's past hold the answer?
What I liked?: Good old Sam-bashing with a light pinch of hurt!Dean to the mix. Also Bobby! You can't do anything wrong with Bobby. The story is nicely written and thrilling. Oh and there's mucho psychic!Sam *happy sigh*. The story is finished too. So no nerve wrecking cliffys to make you tear your hair out. Big plus.

****

Last but not least....

THE ANONYMOUS WRITING FEEDBACK MEME

All of you know how depressing it is not to get that much feedback. So, tell me please if I'm boring you to death with my wannabe fics... or not. Preferably without the boring to death note. Still, don't hesitate to stay anonymous, just be honest. Thanks.

****

Oh and one last thing: Star Trek today! You'll hear my squeeing later today *nods*