In the interests of being better organised, here is the link to my fanfic.net page where every fanfic I have ever written is listed in chronological order.
Most of these fics have appeared over here at one time or another, but it's hard to keep track of them, so I'm very happy to sit back and let FF.net do the work for me :)
Until then, here's a little compensatory Jensen to make up for my silence ...
Lovve you lots x
There was a lot of laughter - and one or two tears!
And here's a group mugshot of us bunch of reprobates.
( There's even a rare bonus picture of Mr D! )
Today marks the thirty-fourth birthday of our very own Sam Winchester. Everyone's favourite baby brother; the magnificent moose; the purveyor of a bitchface that can kill cows at ten paces, and the puppy eyes that can melt granite.
We've followed his trials and tribulations over the last twelve years, and watched him grow (as if he can actually grow any more without suffering from altitude sickness) from boy to man. And what a man!
We love you!
I think this is an easy-peasy one... while good looks are all very nice and pretty, a relationship is built on shared interests and values, and I, for one, couldn't possibly share my life with someone who didn't make me laugh.
So, yes, personality wins out every time!
Now I need to concentrate on finishing up at work, figuring out photo op poses, sorting out all my travel paperwork, tickets and ID, and planning my packing properly so that I don't turn up in Blackpool with a suitcase containing a box of tampons and one sock.
Unfortunately my scanner has chosen the busiest and most manic time of my year to die (as you can see I'm very sympathetic to it's plight - the bastard!), so this picture was taken by camera under a flash, hence the wishy-washy colouring. I'll be taking Sam into town tomorrow to get him scanned properly.
( Parody Sam )
Word Count: 200
Disclaimer: I don't own her.
After her fiftieth birthday, the Impala reflects on the important numbers in her life.
Like any other car, my life is ruled by numbers.
I was built in 1967, so it's been fifty years. Fifty years on the open road since I first rolled off the forecourt. In that time I've had three owners and countless trips that have chalked up over two hundred thousand miles. I lost count after the clock ticked round the second time. It's my age, y'know?
I cost two thousand, two hundred bucks when John Winchester bought me; I have an eight valve engine, a three twenty seven, four barrel carburetor, a top speed of a hundred mph and I pull two seventy five horsepower.
I'm a big ol' bird, with a hundred and nineteen inch wheelbase, and no, I'm not telling you how much I weigh – a girl's gotta have some mystery, after all!
Over the years, I've had two hundred and twenty four tyres, one hundred and ninety two headlamps, seven timing belts, three gearboxes, and one complete rebuild.
But, all things considered, there's only one number I care about. That number has kept me on the road, and gives my life meaning. It's the number I love more than life itself.
That number is two.
And those two are walking toward me right now.
1. My Supernatural boys
2. My Supernatural boys naked
3. My Supernatural boys naked, covered in coconut ice cream, and not a spoon in sight
5. Drabbling and fanfic
6. Food and wine
7. Work (unfortunately!!)
(I haven't included Mr D in this list because, well, he's kind of always on my mind one way or the other!)
This story was written for a lady from Russia who translated some of my stories into Russian for her fansite and did some gorgeous artworks for them which she generously shared with me. In return I offered to write a story especially for her if she had some ideas for prompts. This is one of the prompts she came up with:
Prompt: "Dude… oh, sorry… Sir! It's an awesome place! But we shouldn't go here".
Aliens decide to captive humankind. A couple of aliens come to earth as a secret scouts. And run onto Sam and Dean at once. They begin to spy upon Winchesters, considering them as "normal". After some time one of the aliens send his report to the boss – about Winchester's life and absolutely in Winchester (mostly Dean) style - Jerk, bitch, awesome, Baby (aka Impala), pranks, salt lines everywhere, burgers, etc. (Aliens POV)
Originally posted at amilliondays community
Everyone was fine, the sun shone and my mother fed me enough to sink a battleship!
This morning I took my parents to the local garden centre, and while they were busy discussing the merits of geraniums, my mind began to wander when I saw a bag off rock salt.
And I found myself thinking ... do you reckon Sam and Dean bother with the health and safety information?
Just in case you were wondering, I don't find garden centres particularly stimulating!
In the meantime, here's a random bit of nautical humour that I found on a facebook trawl which seems oddly appropriate, both for my journey and for fandom in general!
Catch you all later ...* MWAH*