I wrote some Sherlock fic! This is literally the first fanfic I've completed in...maybe three years? Just under, I think. Craziness.

to own your fears like soldiers
[ sherlock/john, R ]
Directly following The Great Game. They make it out alive, but neither of them is all right.

( Are you all right, he hears through one ear, and Sherlock’s looking at him with desperation and he hears himself say again yeah, I’m fine, fine as a hand grips his wrist and they start to run again, adrenaline all that’s keeping them upright. )

Title: Disburden (4/4)
Author: rangergirl
Fandom: House M.D.
Rating: R
Pairing House/Wilson
Warnings: Language, mild violence, references to canonical abuse.
Length: Long. 25,000 words, in four parts.
Summary: House’s parents die unexpectedly. In the week leading up to the funeral, Wilson does what he can.

( Part Four )

Title: Disburden (3/4)
Author: rangergirl
Fandom: House M.D.
Rating: R
Pairing House/Wilson
Warnings: Language, mild violence, references to canonical abuse.
Length: Long. 25,000 words, in four parts.
Summary: House’s parents die unexpectedly. In the week leading up to the funeral, Wilson does what he can.

( Part Three )

Title: Disburden (2/4)
Author: rangergirl
Fandom: House M.D.
Rating: R
Pairing House/Wilson
Warnings: Language, mild violence, references to canonical abuse.
Length: Long. 25,000 words, in four parts.
Summary: House’s parents die unexpectedly. In the week leading up to the funeral, Wilson does what he can.

( Part Two )

So, I finally finished it. The EPIC House/Wilson thing I've been writing on and off for like...over a year now. It's by far the biggest I've ever written, ever. Kind of can't believe it's over. I sense some kind of major emotional upheaval coming when it actually hits me. But in the meantime...posting!

Title: Disburden (1/4)
Author: rangergirl
Fandom: House M.D.
Rating: R
Pairing House/Wilson
Summary: House’s parents die unexpectedly. In the week leading up to the funeral, Wilson does what he can.
Warnings: Language, mild violence, references to canonical abuse.
Length: Long. 25,000 words, in four parts.
Disclaimer: Not mine, except for some of House’s family.
Notes: So, yeah. I’ve been writing this, which started out from the very basic premise of “House and Wilson go to House’s parents’ funeral” for over a year. With certain things coming up on the actual show, I figured I should get it finished and posted before Doris et al entirely upstage me this week. This is set sometime after series 3 and disregards canon beyond that point.

( He used to know how to hold other people together. He thinks, once, he even knew how to hold House together, knew where to apply pressure and when to keep his distance, knew every wound and every weak spot like the back of his hand because after Stacy left he'd had to learn, there had been no alternative. )

Um, so. I'M ALIVE, and stuff. jomel10 kindly pointed out to me last night that my last entry was back in September, which is just...How the hell did that happen? I choose to blame university, with its work and its deadlines and its alcohol (though the first two largely outweigh the third this year). Way too much stuff has happened for me to even try and get into it (is anybody actually still reading this? I'd be kind of amazed if everybody hadn't given up on me by now), but I AM going to try at some point to start posting more again. Yes.

In the meantime, I have fic. I feel the need to confess that this was vaguely inspired by an Avril Lavigne song. Yes, I feel dirty. BUT IT'S SLASH. With some het on the side, sort of, but not really because everybody who knows me at all knows that House/Wilson is my OTP to end all OTPs. This came to me right in the middle of a much bigger, much longer House/Wilson piece that I've been working on since, like, July. That will be along...sometime. Did I mention that since starting second year I have NO TIME?

Title: Progressive (One Thing That Stays Mine)
Author: rangergirl
Fandom: House M.D.
Rating: R
Pairing: House/Wilson (Wilson/Amber, House/Cuddy)
Words: 5,385
Summary: Post “Don’t Ever Change”. Jealousy doesn’t suit House.
Disclaimer: Not my sandbox.

( He goes home, drinks his way through the remainder of a bottle of Maker’s Mark and even as he’s drifting, pleasantly numb, he can’t escape the pounding echo in his skull, the truth that he is losing Wilson, losinglosinglosing and this is only what he deserves, this is poetic justice. )

Okay, so it's finally here. Petrelli fic. I hit kind of a block with this last month, but oddly enough the experience of meeting the lovely boys themselves not once but TWICE in the last week, really gave me a boost of inspiration.

So, this is basically a character study of Nathan, while also being pretty much all about the Peter/Nathan relationship. It starts way pre-series, goes right up to the end of HTSAEM, and while it's not 'cest as such, you can definitely read that into it. I think, anyway.

( Some rambling about this fic and Nathan in general which you may or may not care about. )

Comments = love. Seriously. First time in this fandom, so any feedback at all is hugely appreciated.

Title: Four Times Nathan Saved Peter (And One Time He Didn’t)
Author: rangergirl
Fandom: Heroes
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Nathan, Peter
Words: 5,095
Summary: A view on the brothers throughout the years, all the ways their relationship changes, and one way it doesn’t.
Spoilers: The whole season, pretty much. Specific for Genesis, Don’t Look Back, Six Months Ago, Landslide and How To Stop An Exploding Man.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.

( Four Times Nathan Saved Peter (And One Time He Didn’t) )

Okay, so. Um. I think I really, really love Petrellicest, a lot. You know, I tried to resist. I really did. I tried to ship other pairings, was all ready to get behind Peter/Claire until THAT turned into the creepiest thing ever (thanks, show), read lots of Peter/Claude (which I love and is totally my #2 ship), and tried to content myself with the small amount of Petrelli genfic I could find. But in the end, I succumbed. I went on flyingpetrellis, and several hours of my life disappeared, and...it's so good. So wrong, YET SO RIGHT. I mean, read this. And THIS.

You know, it's really weird that I can be so in love with this pairing, but want to gouge out my eyeballs with a blunt object at the slightest mention of Wincest. I think it's because Peter and Nathan, much as they love each other, have a bit of a weird, self-destructive relationship to begin with, what with Peter's clinginess and inferiority complex and Nathan's bizarre combination of neglect and overprotectiveness. And then there's all the touching.

( a picspam tribute to the Petrelli brothers, and their incredible TOUCHING )
They're kind of asking for it, to be honest. I mean, it took two seasons and approximately seventy nine billion kilos of angst for Sam and Dean to HUG, these two are all over each other at the drop of a hat.

Aaaanyway. What have I been doing lately, besides indulging in pretty, morally dubious fanfic? Working lots - I got paid today and worked out that I'm making about £8 an hour, which I did not know and is sweeeeet considering that the most challenging part of this job is probably opening bottles of wine. And I know exactly where my first paycheck is going, because this weekend I'm headed to Dublin for Lisa's hen night which will be AWESOME, and will also require lots of money because I plan on getting quite obscenely plastered. It's been farrr too long.

Final note: I love Stephen Fry and want to have his awesome Harry Potter audiobook voice babies. ♥

So, yes. Finally, I had a stab at SPN. I found Dean's voice kind of tricky to pin down, but really satisfying when I finally did. As usual, comments are love.

Title: walls you built within
Author: rangergirl
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Dean, Sam
Words: 3,295
Summary: Dean cleans up, and thinks too hard.
Notes: So, it’s another Heart coda. Gen. An excess of manly angst, though no more than the show would allow.
Disclaimer: Damn you, Kripke.

( It’s a few seconds before he remembers to breathe; his lungs burn and his eyes swim and he’s moving forwards without volition, dreamlike, gliding round corners and over pristine carpet spattered with blood. )