fic: a series of unexpected events | sherlock bbc | sherlock/john | mature but not explicit, fluff

Title: A Series of Unexpected Events (Mostly Involving Sherlock and a Dildo)
Writer: obsessionality
Alternate links: Originally posted here for sherlock_remix
Status of work: Complete
Characters and/or pairings: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Rating: NC-17
Warnings, kinks & contents: Sex Shop, verging on explicit, mentions of off-screen murders, less-than-Canonical Gruesomeness, Containing Pining, Obliviousness, Happy Endings
Length: 3241 Words
Author's note: This is written for Round 4 of the Sherlock Remix on LJ, and the fic I will be remixing is the AMAZING ‘The Vibe’ by ms_soma. Unfortunately, it’s not quite as porny as it sounds. If I can sort my life out, I will be continuing this with porn. Because the original fic deserves porn as a tribute. But I hope this is good, too.

Summary: John runs a sex shop. Sherlock is a consulting detective. They live in a city where people are endlessly inventive about murdering each other. Aka the fic in which Sherlock slowly runs out of excuses to visit the intriguing man who works at the sex shop, and John is not picking up Sherlock’s subtle hints.

Also posted at AO3

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fic: whiplash | pietro & wanda maximoff; pg-13 for minor character death and angst

Title: Whiplash
Author: obsessionality
Fandom: X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014); X-Men: First Class (2011)
Pairing: None
Relationships: Wanda & Pietro Maximoff
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Minor Character Death
Summary: It was strange how the tables turned, and how anyone could get dragged under the rip tide of life. Even quicksilver Pietro, who escaped every obstacle by simply being too fast to be caught. The problem with running was that sometimes there was nowhere to run to, and there was a big difference between running away from a thing and running towards it. Maybe Hank was right. Maybe no matter how good you were, the house always won, and in the end, life always screwed you over.
A/N: This was partially based on a one-line text post from tumblr which I can’t find now, which said “can you imagine what would happen with Peter Maximoff turned up outside Xavier Mansion after DOFP, like hey Prof, do you mind if I crash on your couch a bit?” Like I tend to, I took the prompt and beat it to death.

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It's been a rollercoaster year, culminating this morning when Mum was diagnosed with breast cancer


The drama's been going on since last year, tbh. She went for the alarm-bells mammogram in June 2013-ish. There was something there and they told her to come back after six months and check it up again, because it was too small for them to figure it out. She went back this January and they told her that while nothing had changed, they needed to send her to a specialist because they really couldn't tell from the external scans. The specialist told her to go for a biopsy, and then she and my dad dithered about it, because they had this notion that if they went for a biopsy they'd permanantly be labelled a cancer-risk, and that's bad for some reason. In the run up to my exams there was much panicking and dithering about the biopsy. The mammogram results told them that there was a 99% chance it was nothing, just benign calcification, but they wanted a biopsy just to make sure.

I convinced her to go for it, against my dad's wishes, because it's better to know than to not know, right?

Biopsy results came back today. They call it Stage 0 Ductal Carcinoma In Situ (DCIS). It's a "non-invasive cancer where abnormal cells have been found in the lining of the breast milk duct. In Stage 0 breast cancer, the atypical cells have not spread outside of the ducts or lobules into the surrounding breast tissue. Ductal Carcinoma In Situ is very early cancer that is highly treatable, but if it’s left untreated or undetected, it can spread into the surrounding breast tissue." So it's barely cancer, it's a super early stage of cancer. There's even a chance that it's not going to spread, but all treatment must be carried out just in case it does. Treatment either involves masectomy or partial removal of breast tissue + radiotherapy.

I woke up this morning to a call from my sister where she was crying so hard I couldn't understand what she was saying. When I finally figured it out I threw up twice. Between five in the morning and seven in the evening I have spent approximately ten hours crying. I'm exhausted. Beyond words. And my mum is in shock. And I don't know how to deal with it.

For those who are new to the blog, I'm in the UK finishing off my law degree. My mum's in Singapore. The thing is, everyone seems to be really positive. The doctors started with a "we have some good news and we have some bad news." The nurses all said that she's going to be fine, that it's very treatable and it's going to work out. My mum went home, had an hour to process, and went to work for four hours. When I tried to call her to actually speak to her, she was dealing with fifteen thousand fucking phonecalls from every fucking friend and relative and their godforsaken grandmas.. Every single one. Two problems with this: everyone wants to visit her today, to make sure she's okay, and she just doesn't have time, and isn't in the mood. Also, it means that the people CLOSEST to her, ie. me, my dad and my sister, are being thwarted at every turn because of another fucking phonecall. I have spoken to her a grand total of fifteen minutes and each time they've said there's another call and that they'll call me back in five minutes, I've waited for another three-to-four hours before calling them to find that they're still incredibly busy.

So I understand that it's her illness and her life but she makes me so fucking angry because she needs to LET GO. If she's crying on the phone and she's got a headache and nausea and anxiety because of the phone calls, she needs to fucking turn off the phone. She says it's because they're using all available phones to try and get in touch with other doctors both in Singapore and in India, for a second opinion. Like, okay, I get it, but what I want to know is, what the second opinion is going to do. The worst case scenario is that she has to go for the surgery and the radiotherapy. If a second opinion tells her that actually it's okay, they're not going to be able to rest easy anyway. And if the second opinion tells her that she needs a complete masectomy, it's only going to make her shit bricks. Like I get it, I understand that the second opinion is her security blanket, but it's a meaningless one, and she needs to prioritize.

Second, my dad and my sister are being complete fucking retards. I don't use that word lightly because I don't like it, but I can't think of anything else strong enough to describe how fucking stupid they're being. Mum said she wants to run away and not deal with any of this. Understandable, tbh. My dad said 'the time to run away was last year. if you hadn't gone for the mammogram, none of this would be happening'. Which is, to be frank, complete fucking nonsense. There's a difference between wanting the problem to be gone, and pretending there's no problem in the first place. Everyone wants the problem to be gone. If we'd pretended nothing was wrong in the first place, we'd have ended up in deeper shit. My sister is completely insensitive. She keeps bitching about how they should still come for my graduation (Yeah, I'm graduating from law school on the 1st of July 2014, yay me) and go for a trip around the UK to distract themselves. To me that sounds like complete nonsense, because throwing yourself into work to be distracted from minor stresses is a completely different kettle of fish from travelling to the UK to be distracted from the imminent onset of cancer and invasive surgeries. She doesn't get that. She's being really pushy about it and to my mum it just looks like she wants them out of the house. With the relationship between my parents and my sister the way it is, I don't blame her for thinking so. I officially absolved them of the responsibility of coming to my graduation. Her health and well being is more important. I'll cope. I don't want to, and I'll probably cry fucking buckets, but I'll cope.

My mum was feeling nauseas etc. but she didn't have any food in the house because she's knackered and she can't put the fucking phone down. My sister just sat in her room and didn't do anything. She hasn't started uni, she's not doing any work, it's just. She's a complete waste. Even if she didn't cook, she should at least have spent some time around my mum. Even though my mum was on the phone the whole time, she should have just sat there with a book or whatever and given her company. But she didn't, because she's a fucktruck. My dad keeps yelling at my mum while she's talking to other people because either he doesn't want her disclosing the details, or he disagrees with the way she's saying things. TBF we are waaaay past the point of self-censorship and he needs to get that. When I finally got through the perpetual 'busy' tone, my mum was basically crying because she hadn't eaten and she was tired and she couldn't even complete her sentence before someone else called again.

To be frank, I don't blame that family friend of mine for dealing with the whole business on her own. I'd not want to invite the circus into town either.

She said she wasn't going to be able to sleep because she thought she was too scared or something, so for the first time in our lives my dad went to a clinic to get some anti-anxiety pills that would help her sleep. Then she refused to take them because she was scared of the side effects, like bad dreams or nausea or whatever. I understand fear. God knows I would probably be reacting the same way. But that's fucking ridiculous. She needs to take the fucking pills and go the fuck to sleep so she can get some perspective in the morning.

The procedure is a standard one. They do it all the time. The radiation therapy will carry on for six months, and it will be painless. Side effects would generally include fatigue, loss of appetite and weightloss. MT's 85 year-old grandfather dealt with radiation much heavier than what they'll be giving my mum. MT's mum had the same pre-cancerous things in her ovaries fifteen years ago, and she was fine. My mum's going to be fine. She has to be fine. We just need to deal with the emotional stuff while the doctors deal with the medical stuff. She just needs to come to accept it, that yeah she has cancer, and that she's going to be fine. To be fair it's just been a little over twelve hours since she found out, so it's not like she's had that much time to process, really. She needs to give herself time to panic and freak out, and then she'll be okay. My sister said some fucking bullshit about 'not enabling the victim mentality' and how 'mum needs to control her thoughts and her fear' and I wanted to scream and slap her, because my sister has some guts talking about controlling her fear responses. My sister is scared all the fucking time, and this time my mum bloody well has the right to be scared. If she's forced into pretending she's okay, she'll throw herself off a bridge, and I will cut my sister into fucking pieces.

It doesn't feel like it's been twelve plus hours. It feels like it's been a year. I feel like I've aged. Tomorrow I'm going to get my dad to cut all the phones. They need some time to process without playing host for every fucking loser around town. i know they're support, I know they care, but really, when my mum says she doesn't want to meet anyone for a couple of days, people should get the fucking message.

In other news:
- I finished my final exams in law school. They went relatively well.
- I turned 22 the day before my final exam on the 29th May to little fanfare
- MT has been a godsend
- I haven't eaten in 36 hours and the very idea of putting a biscuit in my mouth is making me want to be sick again.
- watched xm:dofp in 3D with LK

I've got a packed social calendar for the next ten days or so. All of this shit was planned waaaay in advance and I can't really pull out. But I can't not go either, because I'll never see most of these people again. Ever. But I feel guilty and exhausted that I'm having (or trying to have) fun while my mum is on sleeping pills. But if I sit in my room I'm going to do nothing but cry. I've cried so much today, I'm so beyond exhausted. And I'm so tired of not knowing what to say, or trying to have a proper conversation with them when they keep putting down the phone. I'm so fucking tired of it all, and it's not even happening to me.

Also this means me and my sister are at greater risk of breast cancer, which is just fucking perfect and wonderful. I don't know what I'll do to thank the gods I'm starting to believe in if my mum is okay, though. I just need her to be okay. 

fic: it only happens once a year; nc-17; tony/bruce; fluff & romance

Title: It Only Happens Once A Year
Fandom: Avengers (MCU)
Pairings: Tony Stark/Bruce Banner
Characters: Tony Stark, Bruce Banner
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: None, except for kissing and hints of sex
Summary: Tony’s excited. He’s been planning this for a while, but sometimes the best-laid plans fall apart, and sometimes, it’s for the best.
AN: Written for Avland Mission 7's Challenge 3 - Prompt Bingo!

Cross Posted to AO3

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something's wrong.

something's very wrong with me.

i've fallen into this apathetic state and i don't know what's caused it but it's like i'm sinking into a hole and i just don't care. i've not yet fallen behind on work but i'm so scared i will but i can't bring myself to care? i'm not even making sense. i'm procrastinating despite knowing i can't really afford to procrastinate, and i'm not caring and that's upsetting me, i think.

something's wrong. i'm having those weird dreams again. the recurring one with the island animal sanctuary and swimming around the island with a cat, and animals are being horribly mistreated and oh god.

oh god. DB says it sounds like a depression but i can't afford to be depressed. i need someone to lie to me and tell me it's all okay and that i'm overreacting and that it's all going to be fine. but everyone i talk to is like oh you can't afford to be depressed or what are you sad about and i think i'm going to be sick.


thoughts this week

- i actually fucking hate frozen breaded mushrooms because they are disgusting and i only buy them for the crispy bits. if i could get a bag full of frozen crispy bits i would die a happy woman.
- i really hope my job back home is still on. oh god oh god oh god please.
- i'm so fucking out of it i don't want to do any work. dissertation meeting went well. there are improvements to be made and he called my project ambitious and innovative twice in the course of an hour.
- i just want to write something happy and fluffy and fucking nauseatingly sweet okay. is that too hard? why am in the perpetual angst machine. even fics that have fucking happy endings aren't happy because i'm a fucking crazy person who can't let people be happy
- that creep from jc wants to visit me in durham and i said no no no. but i don't think he got the message sweet mother of god save me.
- have i put on weight? i think i've put on weight.
- i'm so fucking lonely oh my god.
- i want to get high once, before i go back to the land of soulless automatons and dead dreams. i unfortunately do not have the contacts. am wondering if one can actually get high on cough syrup.

a special note to everyone who responded to that horrific post about my dad and my sister; i want you to know that NONE of you have offended me in any way, and that i appreciated your words and your thoughts more than i can possibly describe. i fully intended to respond to all of you, and i will, but every time i read the responses i kinda teared up, and i'm sorry if i made you think i didn't appreciate the effort you put into reading/responding. because i did. i really did. you guys are my first and last bastion of support when it comes to things like this, and i don't know what i'd do without you.

just when you think things can't get worse...

yes, so more shit has gone down.

Today was a good day. I skipped the morning lecture because it was irrelevant to me. I had an IP law tutorial for which the reading was 300 pages long. I'D DONE IT, okay. I read all fucking 300 pages of it. So I was on fire in my tutorial. I knew everything and I walked out feeling good about myself. I found a spot in the massively crowded library and I was starting to get some shit done when I signed onto facebook to speak to a friend about my dissertation.

First post on my newsfeed: pictures of ElG, CdS, ES and LS, of all people, at a formal. Okay look, I don't care anymore. At least, I don't want to care. But whatever. Let me explain. These bitches and I used to live together last year. I'm sure everyone on my flist knows about what a disaster last year was, for me. Thing is, LS was not a part of it. As in, she was so busy with her boyfriend that she didn't participate at all. Everyone used to bitch about her because she used to have really loud sex with her boyfriend and it drove us all crazy. Like, mental. So yeah, no one liked her. And obviously, they didn't like me either. Apparently. Because the number of times I had to listen to them bitch about her is just incompatible with the fact that they asked her to a FORMAL.


Yes, okay I'm sorry for using that word I don't believe in using it but oh MY GOD. I'M SO ANGRY MY GLASSES ARE STEAMING UP.


I'm so angry I could be SICK.

If they'd asked me, I'd have laughed in their face. And yes, fair enough, I've always been a raze-this-bridge-to-the-ground type of girl. I razed that bridge down to the ground. I did. Because they betrayed me when they moved away. CdS by moving and ES by moving away with her. Honestly I'm happier without their drama this year, and logically I don't know why I'm so angry because I have more important things to do.

But I guess if I had to articulate it, it's to do with how you're supposed to leave Uni with lifelong friends, ya know? And I would have, if not for this nonsense. I loved them like sisters. Not LS, not ElG, but I did love ES like a sister. A slightly dim witted, prone-to-boy-trouble sister. I cared for all of them. And this is what I got. I invested my love in them, instead of other people. I think that's what it is. It's a failed investment that turned around and stabbed me in the back, so I couldn't even cut my losses and run. I want to confront all of them. I want to stand there and ask exactly what it is I did to deserve that treatment.

I fully intend to leave ES a letter at the end of this term, slip it into her mail or something. I intend to ask her whether she knows how much I had to listen to about her. She can show it to whomever she likes, I don't care. Because I had to listen to CdS bitch about her. I had to listen to her nonsense too, with her problems with KB and EW and her boy troubles and her issues back at home. I gave and I gave and I gave and I never took anything back. It was never an equal friendship but I guess I deserved at least some courtesy from them. Some respect. They left me bleeding. And I'm still bleeding.

And I have friends. I'm not alone. I don't have time for all the friends I have. I have a life and ambitions and a bright future, I know that I do. I can't walk out of my building without bumping into people I know, people who want to spend time with me. I am likable and kind and friendly. I don't doubt it. I'm a filial daughter and a diligent student and I'm not not-bright. I'm well spoken and I'm a good writer and I'm knowledgeable and I hate that they make me doubt myself. I hate that they make me question my personality, my behavior, my speech. Confidence was one of the things I had going for myself. And they took that from me. I hate that instead of working on the million and one things I have to do, I'm sitting in the library and trying to not cry. And I hate them.

I hate them so much.

God. I need to get them off my facebook. This isn't good for me. I'm still in a state of shock that they asked her to accompany them to a formal. They took the effort to ask her. They could easily have excluded her but how DARE THEY. HOW DARE THEY. They took the time to ask her on facebook, or by text, because she doesn't live with them anymore. And she went. I asked her, out of courtesy to accompany me to watch Frankenstein. And she fucking asked CdS. I'm definitely still angry at her for that. She told me she felt left out, at the start of last term. Well, I'd like to know how she thinks I feel, now.

You know what? I've never wished bad things on people in my life. Not with genuine intent. I've never really hoped that someone dropped dead, in my life. I hope they drop dead. I hope they squander their lives, and that they suffer. I don't care whether they think about me or now. I don't give a fuck. But I hope they suffer, and regret, because of who they are. I want them to suffer because of their personality, because this is unacceptable. It's not. God. Drop. Fucking. Dead.

Meanwhile at home, things are apparently going down, too. My mum and my sister are desperate for my dad to leave. Honestly I don't even know what to say. I know that it's bad when she's trying to sneak calls with me when he's not around. I know he's insufferable, but he really needs a fucking project, for everyone's sanity. Apparently his bullying of my sister is escalating and he's causing trouble for my mum too. I don't even know how to help. She just wants to talk about stuff and he's always around so she ends up talking to me about other, random stuff. My life's a disaster. Also, apparently they're not turning on the internet at home, so my sister can't access it. I do not want to go home. I'm dreading it. I don't want to go at all. The thought of having to live with them, with their rules and their restrictions and their PROBLEMS makes me sick to the stomach. Like okay I know it sounds horrible but they have so many PROBLEMS. And if my grandma ends up coming to live with us, I will live under a bridge if I have to, because I can't deal with that. I cannot, will not deal with it.

I'm so fucking done with my dissertation. So fucking done.

Also yesterday I want to tesco and they didn't accept my card. I had all my food in a bag, ready to be checked out at the till and my card didn't go through. It was a disaster. I was so lucky that I bumped into a friend who'd loan me the money. It was terrifying. I don't generally feel ashamed but I was really scared because I didn't know what had happened to my card. Turns out that my current account was too low, because nothing had been transferred from the savings account. God. When I sorted it out, I was so relieved the room was spinning.

Note to the chick in the library who's clearly very incredibly ill, please go home. stop inflicting your illness on us. you can't possibly be getting any work done when you can't even take two consecutive breaths without having a coughing fit. 

it's a miracle how my parents can make me lose my cool in a matter of seconds.

it's like a special talent of theirs.

it's been a while since I've written but so many things have happened. like, so freaking many things. I don't even know. every time i want to write an entry i type it out and then re-read it and it sounds like i'm related to patients in an insane asylum. did i mention the time my dad said he didn't want to come for graduation because i refused to order take-away? no? yeah, he did that. because it was my mum's birthday and they wanted me to do something special. i said okay. then he reminded me to get take-away six times between 9am and 3pm on that day. the seventh time i asked to be put on speakerphone and told him that even if i wanted to, i couldn't order take-away before 5pm. cue half an hour of crying and yelling on the phone (because i don't deserve to be his daughter and that he doesn't want to be related to me anymore) and a week of silence from him. this was the first week of term and i had four deadlines + my dissertation chapter submission. good times, right?

this morning, they're on their way to an early morning doctors appointment. they called me from their mobile phone and i called back on the landline. apparently they'd left home already and my sister picked up the phone. they fucking flipped their shit. cue fifteen minutes of incoherent screaming on the phone. i have no words. i have no words at all.

life is exhausting. i have a 20% presentation on clinical negligence litigation policy making tomorrow. i'm on the verge of tears. i have so much stuff to do, and i was supposed to do a tesco shop today but this emotional nonsense drains me. i just want to be happy and content. i'm happy and content when i don't have to deal with them. people say that you're supposed to detach yourself from negative people in your life. what do you do if the negative people in your life are your family? what do you do if it's neither culturally appropriate nor practically possible to detach yourself from them? how long do i have to live with this? i'm on the other fucking side of the planet and they're still enough to make me lose my mind.

i don't want to go home. i don't want to live with them. i'm so tired of this nonsense.

can i please live in my office? do you think anyone would mind?

fic: the hollow man; 221B drabble; post s3; one-sided John/Sherlock

Title: The Hollow Man

Fandom: Sherlock BBC

Rating: None

Characters: Sherlock Holmes, John Watson

Pairing: One-sided Sherlock Holmes/John Watson; mentions of John Watson/OFC (Presumably Morstan)

Summary: One day we’ll pass each other on the street, you and I, and you won’t recognize me.

A/N: This is the first fic I've written in 221B format. It was a lot more difficult than I'd anticipated - every word hurt. The references to T. S. Eliot's 'The Hollow Men' were both intentional and not; Everyone knows the line 'this is how the world ends etc.' but I'd never known which poem it came from. The drabble with written with the line in mind but the title came later, and any references of Hollow Men within are completely unintentional (believe it or not).

Alternate Link @ AO3


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