I just can't help this fanfiction stuff.

If you've come to read, it's all here in one place. Feedback is very much appreciated, particularly if you tell me what didn't work for you. Ain't kiddin': constructive criticism is prized like a Zulu coconut. Anything from "I think this comma is misplaced" to "I think your protagonist is wildly out of character."

I hope y'all enjoy.


( Supernatural )

( Nazareth 'Verse )


( Firefly )


( Harry Potter )

Because I totally forgot last night. We had people over, and I was making meatloaf, and I got distracted by the fun part where you toss all the ground beef and turkey in a bowl with the egg and bread crumbs and you totally get to plunge your hands in and mash it like Play-Doh, and...

Yeah.

Also, I got to sautee the onions and then boil them in beer. Awesome.

• First: a letter.
  
  Dear Saints and Sean Payton,
  Don't do me like that, baby.
  You know nobody else can make me feel the way you do, and it's true that yesterday you got us there in the end, and it was good for me too. So don't take this the wrong way.
  Next week, could we maybe finish a little stronger and harder? Please? Instead of yesterday's drawn-out teasing? Because I get all wound up, and then my hands shake for the next half hour...
  We can? Thanks.
  
  WUVS,
  Duckie
  
  P.S. - Drew, you were adorable asking Santa to bring your present "in February."



• Second, have an awesome Cracked.com article about The Six Most Badass Stunts Ever Pulled in the Name of Science.
  
  Here we look at seven self-endangering scientists who only wear lab coats because you can't get explosive-bear-proof tuxedos outside of MI6. Each one of these researchers has been voted "Most likely to inject themselves with the Omega Serum while shouting, 'Dammit, there's no time for testing!'"
  
  
  
• Coleen Perilloux has put together a gallery of photographs of New Orleans, some of which were taken in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina. Some of the photos are intensely beautiful, and others are heartbreaking. The one I found most striking is here.
  
  
• A belated link to some commentary on the trial of Khalid Sheik Mohammed. Talking about the detainees at Guantanamo, Fafblog! states the basic problem rather well:
  
  Everybody else has to stay in Special Torture Jail forever on accounta they have all come down with Schrodinger's Guilt. If they stay in the box they might be guilty, but if we open the box they might not be.

Poll #1498946 Sunday Evening Wossname
Open to: All, detailed results viewable to: All, participants: 5

"Sunday Evening." You keep using that phrase.

It's windy and cold-cold-cold in New Orleans today. (The forties! It's in the goddamn forties!) Someone needs to have a calm, rational discussion with God about the designation "humid subtropical." I do not think it means what He thinks it means.

For no particular reason - have a list.

Things I Have Done Which Dean Winchester Has (Probably) Not Done

• Owned a dog.


• Written a thank-you note.


• Enjoyed a Christina Aguilera song.


• Opened a checking account.


• Stood in a wedding.


• Paid a health care professional for services rendered.


• Exchanged corsages and boutonnieres with a date.


• Wheedled money from Mom.


• Memorized a poem for the pleasure of it.


• Skinny-dipped in the Gulf of Mexico.


• Learned to waltz and foxtrot.


• Cried in front of Dad without feeling even a little bit ashamed.



Anybody else want to play?

On receiving male attention -

Every morning I park my car near my workplace, walk two blocks to a cafe, and walk back with my large black coffee with two Splendas. Every morning I pass the same two older gents, who sit outside the Please-U Restaurant and grin at me. "Mornin', princess," they'll say. Or, "How you doin', sweetheart?"

I smile and say, "How're y'all?" or "Fine, thank you," and if they whistle as I walk away, I don't really mind. I've never understood why they'd flirt with a girl who will never flirt back, but hey, it's harmless.

( Now maybe I get it. )

Slightly rescheduled due to attention span issues.

• First, I have a present for you. D'awwwww.
  



• And, because I am a bitch, I will now scare you shitless by linking to this graphic depicting the shift in unemployment rates in the United States from January 2007 to December 2009. Watch. Tremble.



• Then I will direct your attention to my everlovin', motherfuckin', black and gold-ass SAINTS, bitches. Because they are fucking 12-0 this morning!
  
  Of course, they came from behind to win yesterday's game in overtime by a combination of gritty determination and ridiculous rabbit foot luck. Don't believe me? Observe.
  
  
• And finally: I made these maple-chili glazed pork medallions a few nights ago. They didn't take me long at all, and I found they tasted just as good with or without the chipotle.

Poll #1495773 Wossname Poll
Open to: All, detailed results viewable to: All, participants: 12

Baby otters?

Climategate?

GEAUX SAINTS!

On Thursday evening, I ran a mile continuously - no walk breaks, no stopping to tie my shoe. I could still breathe afterward, and I didn't end up on the floor in the fetal position rocking through the shin splints (which is what happened the last time I tried to take up running).

I realize a mile is not that fucking far. When I was fourteen, I ran a nine minute mile every Friday in P.E. But that was six years and thirty pounds ago, and now my standards are somewhat lower. So I take my pride where I can get it.

Yay, mile.

This morning mile-point-five was not nearly as graceful, which might have owed something to the massive hangover from my cousin's bachelorette party last night. Yay, marriage. Boo, tequila.

I also have thoughts about the season finale of Sons of Anarchy, and some disturbing observations about Weston the Aryan True Believer. Specifically, the creepy parallels between him and John Fucking Winchester. ( Spoilers for Sons of Anarchy and Supernatural under the cut. )

From the Houma Today:

"Instead of attending committee meetings Monday night, three Terrebonne Parish Council members were in the Superdome watching the Saints beat the Patriots."

Oh, Louisiana political-types, you are just determined to be freaking ridiculous, aren't you?

WHO DAT

WHO DAT

WHO DAT SAY DEY GONNA BEAT DEM SAINTS



Black and gold, bitches.

New tradition - linking to miscellaneous cool and worthwhile things discovered in the course of the week.

And a poll. Because everyone loves ticky-boxes.

( Sunday fun under the cut. )

It's almost five in the morning, and I am seated on a dorm room floor next to a paper bag with blue vomit leaking through the bottom of it.

( None of this is my fault. )

Wishing all the best to the smalltwndreamer, who is as warm and generous a flisty as they come.

Hope it's been a great day, boo.

Marry me, Drew Brees?

baylorsr has written a wonderful crossover with "Dark Angel" that meshes the two canons and their Ackles characters with style and class, and the balance between broad strokes and fine detail lets the author tell a lot of story very economically. Max's prickly relationship with that smart-aleck Dean is great fun to watch, and watching her come to care for the Winchesters is even more rewarding.

He said his name was Ted Nugent but Max also figured him for a great big liar, so she started thinking of him as Alec in her head, for smart-alec.

Prodigal

Via kimmer1227:

The problem with LJ: We all think we are so close, but really we know nothing about one another. So I want you to ask me something you think you should know about me. Something that should be obvious, but you have no idea about. Ask away.

Then post this in your LJ and find out what people don't know about you.

Part Five
Genre: gen casefic
Characters: Dean, Sam, various OCs
Rating: R
Word Count: 3,000
Summary: In February of 2008, a hunt takes the Winchesters to New Orleans just in time for Mardi Gras. Dean's plan is to work the job, get elbow-deep in oyster po-boys, and hit the parade route. But what Dean plans and what takes place ain't ever exactly been similar.
[One] [Two] [Three] [Four] [Five]

( If Ever I Cease to Love (5/5) )

Part Four
Genre: gen casefic
Characters: Dean, Sam, various OCs
Rating: R
Word Count: 5,500
Summary: In February of 2008, a hunt takes the Winchesters to New Orleans just in time for Mardi Gras. Dean's plan is to work the job, get elbow-deep in oyster po-boys, and hit the parade route. But what Dean plans and what takes place ain't ever exactly been similar.
[One] [Two] [Three] [Four] [Five]

( If Ever I Cease to Love (4/5) )

Part Three
Genre: gen casefic
Characters: Dean, Sam, various OCs
Rating: R
Word Count: 4,500
Summary: In February of 2008, a hunt takes the Winchesters to New Orleans just in time for Mardi Gras. Dean's plan is to work the job, get elbow-deep in oyster po-boys, and hit the parade route. But what Dean plans and what takes place ain't ever exactly been similar.
[One] [Two] [Three] [Four] [Five]

( If Ever I Cease to Love (3/5) )

Part Two
Genre: gen casefic
Characters: Dean, Sam, various OCs
Rating: R
Word Count: 4,500
Summary: In February of 2008, a hunt takes the Winchesters to New Orleans just in time for Mardi Gras. Dean's plan is to work the job, get elbow-deep in oyster po-boys, and hit the parade route. But what Dean plans and what takes place ain't ever exactly been similar.
[One] [Two] [Three] [Four] [Five]

( If Ever I Cease to Love (2/5) )

Part One
Genre: gen casefic
Characters: Dean, Sam, various OCs
Rating: R
Word Count: 5,000
Notes: This fic sponsored by the fabulous kimmer1227 and her purchase of a Sweet Charity Ho. Babe, you've been incredibly patient, and I hope it was worth the wait. Cheerleading by the lovely luu_alita, beta-fu by the indomitable saberivojo and the take-no-prisoners Dress Without Sleeves.

Summary: In February of 2008, a hunt takes the Winchesters to New Orleans just in time for Mardi Gras. Dean's plan is to work the job, get elbow-deep in oyster po-boys, and hit the parade route. But what Dean plans and what takes place ain't ever exactly been similar.
[One] [Two] [Three] [Four] [Five]

( If Ever I Cease to Love (1/5) )

The first five or ten minutes were sparkly fun, and then the rest was just... meh.

( In which there is squee-harshing. )

( SOON. )