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16 March 2012 @ 09:01 pm
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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.

Current Mood: busybusy
30 December 2020 @ 07:39 pm
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: 21th July 10

Fan and FictionCollapse )
31 August 2016 @ 04:37 pm
Fandom: Forever
Title: What would have to be proved
Spoiler: Anything up the season finale
Summary Jo did remember what he told her about his "condition". But when, a few weeks after their Talk, she's confronted with it in all its bloody glory all she can do is not let it break her.
Warning: Some swearing, blood and tears. Must be Tuesday.
Rating: If you watch the show you can read this.
Disclaimer: The characters don't belong to me and I very much intend to give them back after playing.
Words: about 5000

Her feet hit the pavement in a dramatic staccato rhythm that would've made a heart patient jitter with fear. Her breaths came in painful gasps while her eyes raked the pavement in front of her for unexpected obstacles that would've turned her run quickly into an acrobatic tumble and she didn't need that.

It was 3am and so it wasn't like the streets were crowded, but it was a generally known fact that New York never slept. Traffic was slow and the occasional honking and laughing as well as the booming of loud music accompanied her flight. Her eyes started to water and she wasn't sure whether it was because of the pain in her side, the cold wind in her eyes or the knowledge that she was spattered with the blood of the man she started to like a little more than a friend. Which, of course, she'd never have admitted.

"Whoa, lady!" A man yelled, jumping violently out of her path, but she had already passed him before she even had the chance to apologize. She didn't care. She also didn't care that she probably looked like a psycho with her whole front, arms and hands covered in a dark red blood, itching where it started to dry.
With an Olympic jump she vaulted the hood of a car, leaving behind an ugly trace of blood over the yellow hood and another angry voice yelled obscenities after her. She still didn't care. All she cared was the river and the fastest way to get there.

Don't be dead! Don't be dead!, her mind kept screaming while at the same time the hope kept pulsing that maybe – just maybe – he wasn't crazy after all. Maybe, the story he had told her – the one that had stood between them since that day a few weeks ago – wasn't the result of a delusional mind and advanced photoshopping but the story of his admittedly long life. And maybe he really had told the truth when his last words before he died and vanished (HE FUCKING VANISHED) into thin air were a hoarse "See you at the river…"

Because the alternative was unthinkable.
Read more...Collapse )
I wrote fic and need help.
I actually found myself flung into a new fandom that's seemingly totally unknown to most people on this God-forsaken planet. I mean WTF?
Anyone here who know the series "Forever" and can help me out with a quick beta? The story is almost done and just about 3000 words. Just a tiny one-shot. Summary not included as I don't want to spoil anyone. Just let me tell you... it includes a death of one certain Henry Morgan (Duh! Surpise)
08 July 2015 @ 11:30 am
End of Times


Except for the piercing sound of the wind whispering its endless litany of wordless poems. Lonely walls standing guard beside the dusty path. Derelict ruins of times long gone and yet powerful enough in their seemingly never aging perseverance. Making the impression of having always been there and never leaving until the end of times.

The sky hung low over the landscape and if it weren't for the distant croaking of an angry crow one would think the end of times for every living creature had already happened.

In the distance two lonely figures staggered over uneven ground, their feet stumbling over dead roots of withering, leafless trees. Their scarfs were wrapped around their heads, held in places by fingers numbed by the icy wind.

Stones were crunching under their feet as they passed the scarred remains of former civilisation, stopping merely for a second to catch their breath.

"Next time," rasped the smaller figure and crouched a little lower to offer as little surface as possible against the strong breeze. "I'll decide where to go on our holiday, got it?"


Also, what the hell with wrong with this editor? It keeps swallowing my vowels and won't allow copy and paste. Stupid thing!
29 July 2013 @ 09:20 pm

„Ich hatte schon immer den Verdacht, daß das Ausblasen der Kerzen auf der Geburtstagstorte ein getarnter Gesundheitstest für die Versicherung ist.“

Katharine Hepburn

Liebe Rica, lass dir die Geburtstagstorte dadurch aber nicht verderben :-) Wünsche dir alles erdenklich Gute. Allem voran Gesundheit und Zufriedenheit in deinem beruflichen und privaten Leben.

Ich hoffe du hattest einen schönen Tag mit lieben Menschen.
17 October 2012 @ 09:14 pm

It just makes me smile (and jump up and down very much to my boyfriends amusement)

Tags: ,
Current Mood: cheerfulcheerful
02 August 2012 @ 09:00 pm
Fairy Tale Thursday:

An old Italian man lived alone in the country. It was Spring and he wanted to dig his tomato garden, as he had done every year, but it was very hard work for the aging man as the ground was hard. His only son, Vincent, who used to help him, was currently in prison. The old man wrote a letter to his son and described his predicament:

Dear Vincent,
I am feeling pretty bad because it looks like I won't be able to plant my tomato garden this year. I'm just getting too old to be digging up a garden plot. If only you were here my troubles would be over. I know you would dig the plot for me.

Love Dad

A few days later he received a letter from his son:

Dear Dad,
Not for nothing, but don't dig up that garden. That's where I buried the BODIES.
Love Vinnie

At 4 a.m. the next morning, FBI agents and local police arrived at the old man's house and dug up the entire area. However, they didn't find any bodies, so they apologized to the old man and left.

That same day the old man received another letter from his son.

Dear Dad,
Go ahead and plant the tomatoes now. That's the best I could do under the circumstances.
Love Vinnie
Current Mood: amusedamused
16 March 2012 @ 08:46 pm

Ja, liebe lupina78. Du bist gemeint :-)

Hab einen schönen Tag (was davon jetzt noch übrig ist).
Current Mood: bouncybouncy
23 February 2012 @ 09:32 pm
So, I might have a teeny weeny question for you, dearest f-list. Does anyone live in Miami or has at least a little insider knowledge where one might spend a night between to flights without having to pay enough money that one could have rented a private jet in the first place?

Background: Next weekend my sister comes back from her traveling in Central America and she and her friend need some place to stay from March 2 to 3 not too far away from Miama Airport. Of course there's enough hotels but since doesn't that much of a fortune I'd be thankful for any tip you might have.

Ok, off to bed. Sleep's calling.