#My FanFiction

[shadowquill17]

the fic where Charles can't stop touching Edwin's face

Charles touched Edwin’s face when they were in Hell, and it made them both feel better. So of course he keeps doing it. And of course it escalates.

based on this post by @tragedy-machine!

[morganaspendragonss]

you only see the light shine in dark times

5.01 has apparently given me inspiration again we love to see it! enjoy! ao3 | 1k | 5.01 coda, angst and hurt/comfort

He’s grown used to it by now, to Carlos rushing off in the middle of lunch dates and coming home in the middle of the night. He’s grown used to the thousand-yard stares and the constant presence of that case looming over them. He’s grown used to sleeping alone.

But it still hurts. It still aches something deep within TK when he spends yet another night with only Lou Two for company. He could invite people over, the crew, his dad, but he doesn’t want them to know that this is what his life – his marriage – has become. They wouldn’t understand, and he thinks perhaps his dad would understand a little too well, which is an uncomfortable thought.

Not that his marriage is going to end up like his parents’. TK won’t let it. And he is proud of Carlos; deeply, wholly, overwhelmingly so. Seeing him on the news tonight, standing at the chief’s right hand, the youngest Ranger in the line-up by far, had sent a pulse of love and pride directly to TK’s heart, where it still sits, beating strongly away. He loves Carlos for his dedication to his work, and he wouldn’t have him any other way.

But he would have him at home.

The loft isn’t a big place, smaller even than his New York apartment, but right now it feels cavernous, yawning around him. He can almost hear the echo of his feet on the concrete as he sets Lou back in his tank and clears up for the night. The remaining peppers go in the fridge, alongside the leftovers of a dinner he’d made last night in the foolish hope that they could share a full meal together without worrying about call-outs or cases. Instead, TK had been left with too much chicken pasta and Carlos had eaten vending machine energy bars and peanuts.

TK doesn’t fully trust that he won’t do the same tonight, but there’s nothing he can do about it now, except leave the light by the window on. He imagines it’s a beacon, a sole light in the dark, and he imagines that Carlos can see it from his office all the way across town. 

Come home, he thinks, wishes, prays. Come home to me.

Even after he gets in bed, he always tries to stay up for a while, waiting to hear the door rolling along the tracks, Carlos shuffling about, the click of the lamp being turned off. It’s a rare occasion, but it’s happened once or twice, and TK likes to feign sleep until Carlos is finally settled next to him. Then, he’ll pretend to stir, just a little, and he’ll roll over to pull him close.

Tonight, as with most nights, he doesn’t make it, though he’s not sure what time it is when he finally falls asleep. All he knows is that it’s late and Carlos still hasn’t come home.

*

While nights are an ever rarer privilege, TK can usually count on at least a few minutes with his husband in the mornings. Which is why he panics this morning, when he wakes up not to Carlos in bed with him, but to coldness on the other side of the bed. It’s happened before when he’s overslept after a long or late shift, but yesterday’s was neither, and a quick glance at his phone tells him it’s not even seven yet. If Carlos hasn’t come home… But he has to have come home, because who will TK call now that Gabriel is gone? 

His phone is in his hand anyway before he’s managed to disentangle himself from the bedsheets, but it’s proved unnecessary a second later. The bedroom door slides open and Carlos appears on the other side, smiling despite the exhaustion lying heavy across his features. 

“Hey, I thought I heard you,” he says, coming to sit on the bed next to TK. He puts a hand on TK’s knee, his thumb rubbing gently across the skin. “You look upset, what’s going on?”

TK waits before answering. It’s a difficult question to answer these days; he can’t let Carlos know what’s really wrong because that… Well, that’s an argument he doesn’t want to have just yet. 

“Nothing,” he decides. “Just, weird dreams, you know. What time did you get in last night?”

Carlos’s expression shutters and he pulls his hand back, ostensibly to look at his watch. “Uhh, no idea. I stopped for something to eat on the way, so.”

“Good.”

The silence that falls between them is tense, awkward in a way it so rarely is between them. TK doesn’t know how to fix this, doesn’t know when it broke in the first place. It was gradual, cracks forming with every missed dinner and late night. Sometimes it feels like the only thing connecting them is that light by the window, left on as a sign that there is someone to come home to. 

Carlos sucks in a deep breath and TK turns to him, already knowing what he’ll say. 

“I was just about to head out, wanted to see you before I left. You should go back to sleep.” He pats TK’s knee again and makes to stand, but TK snatches his hand before he can fully pull away. 

“I’m awake now,” he tries, pouring as much love as he can into the words. “Maybe I can drive you to work, we can pick up some breakfast on the way? I’ll pick you up when you finish.”

Carlos smiles, but it’s small and regretful. “I already ate, and I don’t want to bother you on your day off.”

“It’s not–”

“Besides, I might stay late again,” Carlos interrupts. “I’m not sure, but I have to keep working on this, TK. I can’t– I couldn’t forgive myself if I stopped.”

TK nods. “I understand.”

And he does. He does. Still. His heart sinks as he lets go of Carlos, allowing him to stand up and leave.

“I’ll leave a light on for you,” he calls out as Carlos reaches the door. “I love you.”

Carlos turns back once, smiles. “Love you.”

Then he’s gone, and TK is alone again.

[amnevitahdrawsstuff]

Take Care of Business for Me cover

A cover for my fic Take Care of Business for Me.

I’ve been working on this thing basically all summer and I’m so glad to finally be done with it. 🫠

[tabbytabbytabby]

Wanted Man

Word Count: 1,019 words

Rating: Teen and Up

Fandom: 9-1-1

Relationship: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Tommy Kinard

Tags: Established Relationship, Established Evan "Buck" Buckley/Tommy Kinard, Future Fic, Fluff, Humor, POV Tommy Kinard, Soft Evan "Buck" Buckley/Tommy Kinard, Worried Evan "Buck" Buckley, Cuddling & Snuggling, Sharing a Bed, Peacocks, Mentioned Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Laws

Summary: When Evan shows up at Tommy's house in the middle of it night, Tommy is just happy to see his boyfriend. Until he notices how tense Evan is, and things only get stranger from there.

Read on AO3

[lulucifer-s-husband]

Hi everyone !

I finally completed chapter 18. I hope you will like it. If you want the context around this chapter, please read the notes at the end.

Also, I am happy I was able to write a longer chapter this time.

[alectoperdita]

jou makes kaiba a character bento of blue eyes. kaiba believes this is a murder attempt via starvation because how can he eat blue eyes

Anon, I'm not sure if this was what you were hoping for, but here we go.

---

"Fubuki, if you don't put on your jacket this minute, I'm punting you out the door like a football!"

A child's screeching echoed through the high-ceiling foyer, followed by two sets of footsteps pounding across the marble.

Seto listened, barely straining to make out the sound of his husband giving chase to their four-year-old son. There was Fubuki's obstinate "no!", the clatter of some piece of furniture, and Katsuya's bitten-off swearing. After a beat, he considered getting up and checking on them.

But then, bright amber eyes, framed by golden blond bangs, peered up from his lap. Asuka, swinging her legs gently, reached out with one chubby hand to offer him a mini-sausage off her plate.

"They'll sort it out," he muttered, both to himself and her.

Her response was to wave the sausage more insistently. The beginning of a pout formed on her stained lips.

Quickly, he bent over and took a small bite. This was their bargain: she finished her breakfast as long as he ate with her. The taste was a bit on the bland side. But she was three, so they didn't want to flavor her food too heavily.

Beaming with pride, his daughter stuffed the rest into her mouth. Her cheeks puffed out, reminiscent of a chipmunk.

Seto couldn't help but grin at the picture he made. His hand was halfway into his pocket for his phone before he caught himself. God, he was becoming one of those parents.

Thankfully, his husband's reappearance in the kitchen door restored his dignity. Katsuya's hair was tousled and sticking out in every which way, reminding Seto of their youth. He leaned heavily against the door jamb, using the frame to support himself and the bundle hefted under one arm. Fubuki kicked his feet wildly as they dangled in the air, but it wasn't in a tantrum. He enjoyed being carried like a sack of potatoes for some reason.

"Got 'em," Katsuya grunted, pushing his bangs out of his eyes. It was a dreadfully handsome look on him. "Is Asuka ready to go?"

Seto plucked the napkin off the dining table and wiped her face clean. As soon as he finished, he invited her to wordlessly hop down from his lap. Without further prompting, she lifted both arms so he could help her into her jacket.

"Now she is," he announced and stood.

Asuka laughed and twirled, before running to join Katsuya and Fubuki.

As much as Seto could spend the rest of the day staring at his impossible family, the kids were due at kindergarten and he had an early meeting. While Katsuya tidied the children's appearance, zipping up Fubuki's jacket resoundingly so he couldn't throw it off, Seto brought over the bentos from the kitchen counter.

He arched a questioning eyebrow at his husband as he handed them off. "Don't you think you've overdone it?"

In addition to each child's usual bento box, there was a two-tiered one. Then again, Katsuya always slipped comfortably into the role of house husband when it was the off-season for the pro-circuit.

Warmth spread through Seto's body when their hands brushed. Katsuya's fingers purposefully lingered on his wrists. Nor did he let go after he closed his palms over the back of Seto's hands, drawing him in for a short kiss.

Katsuya smiled. "Nah, the big one's for you."

"You didn't have to."

"Someone says you've been skipping lunch lately. So now you don't have an excuse."

Seto sighed. "Isono."

"I'm not giving up the identity of my mole that easily." Katsuya gave a wink.

Another kiss, a muttered goodbye; and then they were gone. The mansion always felt eerily quiet without them.

*****

Meetings were the bane of his existence. On days like today, when they were packed back-to-back, Seto longed for a megalomaniac or two. At least they had the decency to settle matters, even if it was of life and death, through Duel Monsters.

He collapsed into his office chair for the first time since he arrived hours ago. At the moment, he couldn't bear to check his inbox and see how many messages awaited his attention.

Likely too many.

For now, he wanted to enjoy the peace and quiet of his private office.

Eventually, his gaze roamed across his desk's surface: paperwork, pens, photos of his family, a black two-tier bento box.

He straightened.

He'd completely forgotten about the lunch Katsuya made for him until now.

Well, it was lunch time. He didn't have an excuse now as Katsuya said earlier. And he so hated to disappoint his husband. Plus, he liked Katsuya's cooking.

The top level contained an assortment of side dishes: a small salad, stewed beef and vegetables, and a couple of the same hot dog octopuses Katsuya always made for the children's bentos. But the tier below that? Seto gawked at what he uncovered.

Katsuya had been making character bento for Fubuki and Asuka since the start of autumn. The kids loved showing off their colorful arrangements to their classmates. Over time, Seto too had watched his husband get increasingly more creative and elaborate with their lunches.

It appeared he was no exception.

A rather faithful depiction of his ace monster stared back at him. Shaped out of suspiciously blue-tinted rice, his Blue-Eyes roared triumphantly at a background of black rice. It was mostly the head, neck, and upper shoulders with a hint of the wings, but Katsuya had captured its essence, using carefully cut pieces of dried seaweed to fill in the finer details and contour.

Seto wondered how long it took him to make this.

He snapped a photo for posterity. Then he tested his husband.

I think your plan may have backfired.

Katsuya responded instantly.

Why's that?

There's no way I can wreck her majesty.

I love you, even if you are a huge dork.

[recurring-polynya]

Ranking my Habitual POV Characters, from Easiest to Hardest to Write

Renji. Too easy, actually. He's a yapper. I love him, tho, he is my favorite narrator and I would never write anyone else if I could get away with it.

Byakuya. I hate this for me, too. He is a man of few words, but internally, he is also a giant yapper. Uses all the fun words you can't use irl or people will know you are autistic, like "repast" and "phantasmagorical".

Orihime. Also very fun to write! Sometimes insists on honorifics. A minor yapper.

Uryuu. Easy, but not exactly fun to write. I just gotta let my brain go into full-anxiety mode and ride the wave. It works, but, like. I write fanfiction so I don't have to listen to my brain's anxiety barf, please and thank you.

Rukia (present day). She would be a lot lower on this list if I didn't have a ton of practice and spend twenty hours a day thinking about her.

Ichigo. I don't write him very much because he's already got a whole manga about him, but he is fine and remarkably well-behaved as characters go. Also an internal yapper, worse than Orihime but not as bad as Renji.

Hinamori. The only problem with Hinamori is that she uses an entirely different naming scheme for everyone she knows than anyone else on this list and also often insists on honorifics.

Chad. Very pleasant to write, but much slower than other characters because he very carefully considers everything he wants to say before he says it, including his own internal narration. Says exactly what he means to say, no more, no less.

Kira. I am perfectly neutral on writing Kira-POV, I just think he's more fun from the outside looking in.

Have I ever written a Hitsugaya pov? I don't remember, but I feel like he should go here.

Inuzuri Rukia. What happens to Inuzuri Rukia is no one's business but her own. It is certainly not mine, the author.

Ikkaku. The problem is that I am a yapper, so every time I write Ikkaku having any sort of insight or introspection, I have to roll it back at least twice. His narration is just the thoughts that occur to him, completely in the moment, absent any sort of analysis. I could never. Doesn't use any of the fun words. Writing Kenpachi-dialogue is this, but even moreso, which is why I avoid him as much as reasonably possible.

(if you're a fanficcer and want to make your own list, please do!)

[fandom-hoarder]

Too F'n High

Summary: “Here, drink this,” Dean says. A small plastic cup is pressed to his lips, and the strong, medicinal odor of Nyquil almost clears Sam’s sinuses on its own. He whines again, not daring to open his mouth to actually voice his complaint, and hoping his stuffy nose lets him last long enough. Dean knows he hates this stuff. It makes him so groggy and woozy he can barely function, and he doesn’t even like to take a full dose. He tries to reach for the cup, but Dean grabs his wrist and Sam wonders how many hands Dean has.  The cup leaves Sam’s tightly closed lips and Dean sighs. “Sammy, c’mon, ya gotta let me take care of you, man.”

[AKA "dean feeds sam nyquil while he has a cold, and does somnophilia" --Finally, it is done!]

Written for @wincestwednesdays July 2024

July 31st Prompt: in sickness & in health

Tags: sickfic, caretaker dean, sick sam, fever, fever dream, dubcon medication, dubcon/noncon somnophilia, watersports elements, masturbation, underage, weecest, pining Sam, Sam POV, a dash of humiliation and praise kink, a pinch of oral fixation Sam, pubescent Sam

Note: Gifted to @supernaturalkickparty as a very late birthday present. Also extremely late finishing this for the fest. I was sick when I started this lol.

[philosopherking1887]

Rating: M

Ships: Oswald Cobblepot/Edward Nygma (endgame); Oswald Cobblepot/Jim Gordon (temporary but substantial)

Status: Complete!! At 138,076 words, good Lord.

Fic summary: Jim and Oswald agree that the relationship between Edward Nygma and Lee Thompkins is a disaster waiting to happen, so they come up with a desperate plan: plant evidence that they're having a secret affair to spark jealousy in Ed and Lee and draw them away from each other. Their plan is both complicated and helped along by simultaneous crises involving the brothers Valeska…

Chapter 24: Once Is Never (POV: Jim). Jim has a brief private conversation with Oswald before they finalize their agreement to a conditional alliance.

I kind of hoped to post the final chapter on or before September 15, which would have been exactly a year after I posted the first chapter, but that did not happen. Instead, I'm posting it a year and 7 days after the first chapter... and also, it turns out, exactly 10 years after the pilot episode of Gotham first aired! (Thanks to @hexevampyr for bringing that to my attention.)

Thus ends the longest, plotty-est thing I have ever written! Thanks to everyone who's come along with me for the ride -- especially @hellostuffedtiger, who helped me figure out plot stuff, and/or virtually held my hand while I agonized over it, when I was first setting out, and has continued to follow the fic even though she's not even in this fandom and hasn't watched most of the extremely convoluted, confusing show (which has surely made this a sometimes mystifying read).

[goditsmeagain]

Steddie time loop but Eddie's perspective

I'm fully back on my bullshit

[grasshopperdoingdogpaddle]

Wuya mocks Chase for his attachment to the monk, and Chase taunts Wuya for her attachment to the worm.

Their little human attachments could use a hand though, so the taunts are cut short and they handle their business first.

[drivebypainter]

What’s this? A fan fiction written by yours truly?! Yes! It is!

50% of All Marriages End in Divorce by Teacat11

Rated: Mature

Tags: Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fake Marriage, Fake Pregnancy, Queer Platonic Relationship, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Obsessive Luo Binghe, Confused Mobei-jun, Tired Shen Yuan, Shang Qinghua & Shen Qingqiu Friendship, Canon-Typical Violence, Oblivious Shen Yuan, Awkard Kissing, Enthusiastic Kissing, Dubious Kissing, Delusional Thinking and Activities, Real Marriage, Happy Ending.

Summary:

"“Well it goes like this, if we get fake married it won't be suspicious to Mobei-jun or anyone else if we both wander off together to look for Moon-Dew Sun Mushrooms-“

“Sun-Moon Dew Mushrooms.”

“-and if one of us pretends to be pregnant-“

“WHEN DID PREGNANCY COME INTO PLAY?!”

“-then Luo Binghe won't hurt us, after all, he wouldn’t hurt a pregnant person or the pathetic husband of said pregnant person! Which means we could avoid having to die in the first place!” Shang Qinghua finished his explanation with jazz hands. Shen Qingqiu felt like spitting blood.

Or

Months after the Immortal Alliance Conference disaster, Shen Qingqiu learns a bit of crucial information: Shang Qinghua, the treacherous rat behind the disaster in the first place, is a transmigrator! The two immediately begin to work together to find ways to survive Luo Binghe's return and the subsequent demise of their sect and lives, and with few options and time running out, they come to a quick and easy solution to save their skins; get fake married."

[idiot-mushroom]

my oneshot is turning into a whole ass slowburn (i hate it here)

[lizthewriter]

please please please / theo nott

PAIRING  bad boy!theo nott x popular!reader

SUMMARY  theo constantly messes up and you're sick of it. either he pulls his act together or you pull the cord of this relationship. theo acts accordingly. (blurb)

QUOTE  "please please please, / don't prove i'm right, / and please please please, / don't bring me to tears when i just did my makeup so nice, / heartbreak is one thing, / and ego's another, / I beg you don't embarrass me motherfucker," - please please please by sabrina carpenter

WORD COUNT  900

WRITTEN  7.7.2024

"stop moving." you let out a huff of irritation as theo hissed and sharply moved his head away from your gentle touch. you crossed your arms, incredulity written all over your face. "you better stop moving or else i'm gonna leave."

"no," he protested softly, grabbing you by the wrist. he fidgeted with the golden bracelet draping so elegantly over your wrist. "please, stay. i'm sorry cara mia, i won't move."

your hardened expression softened at his words and with a forgiving smile, you drew closer to him. dipping a small cotton ball into some alcohol, you pressed it gently into the wound on his cheekbone, causing him to wince again. purple bruises stained the skin surrounding it in various shades, painting his face a lovely array of color. "how many times have i told you to stop getting into fights?"

he glances away from you with a clenched jaw. "many times," he responds in a constrained tone.

"my friends are starting to say things about you - that you're dangerous and reckless," you told him, patting on the wound gently before reaching in the box next to you for bandages. "and now everyone's expecting me to break up with you to make a statement."

theo sighed and bowed his head, rubbing his temples in frustration. you grabbed his chin and gently tilted his head up to look at you. he relaxed as he saw the warm, loving smile on your face - the way your eyes affectionately met his with an overbearing amount of love. a small smirk started to grow on his face. "i love you theo, but you're getting out of control." the smirk fell from his lips into a deep, remorseful frown. "you need to make this work - so don't embarrass me. don't prove i'm right. or else i'm done."

-

"she's gone mad," mattheo said with a roll of his eyes, glancing at you from across the courtyard. him and theo were huddling in the corner, a thick air of smoke surrounding them. you were in the courtyard with your other friends, obviously talking and enjoying yourself. theo tilted his head and puffed out another cloud of smoke - you looked extra pretty today. he couldn't exactly place what made today different than other days. maybe you had pulled your skirt up just a bit higher, or something new with your eye makeup or your hair.

"no, she's right. i can't keep fucking up like this," theo responded to mattheo, stomping on the cigarette butt before beginning to walk away. "i think we're done, mate."

"nott, where do you think you're going? oi! what the fuck?" mattheo called from him across the courtyard as he approached you. as you turned around and saw theo approaching you, at first, a wide grin painted your face. but it soon dissipated as you saw who was coming up behind him.

-

theo glared at the ground as you cleaned up his wounds again. you weren't listening to him, berating him about getting into yet another fight. he tried to tell you that he didn't start it, it wasn't his fault - that he was gonna quit smoking and hanging around mattheo for you.

at some point, he couldn't take it anymore - he pushed himself off the edge of the tub in your bathroom and grabbed his coat.

"where are you going?" you asked him angrily.

"i'm going to prove you wrong," was all he mumbled in response before slamming the door to your bathroom shut, leaving you all alone.

-

three days passed and neither of you spoke to one another. but on the fourth day, you entered the great hall to find it soaked, dripping in beautiful red roses. they were covering every orfice and surface of the room, every table in the hall. you looked to the professor's table to see roses hung in the air above it, spelling out one simple phrase. i'm sorry.

you glanced towards theodore, who was sitting next to blaise zabini, not at all listening to what his friend was saying. as soon as he spotted you entering the hall, he stood up nervously. people stared at the two of you before whispers spread like wildfire throughout the hall. you weren't sure if you were more flustered or embarrassed by his grand gesture.

you felt someone run up beside you. "you got a right boyfriend there," said a hufflepuff boy that had once tried to put the moves on you at a slytherin party, only to end up on the ground with a broken jaw. "he's just sent every guys he's beat on a care package. a care package!" the boy exclaimed in disbelief. "he's a keeper, that one."

you looked towards theo with a small smile and approached him timidly. "this is all very grand, don't you think?" you asked with an arched brow.

"nothing more fitting for the most beautiful girl in the world. i assume you got my message? hope it didn't get lost in the post," theo said jokingly and nodded towards the floating roses with a sheepish shrug.

you hummed. "i got the message quite all right." and you kissed him on the cheek before sitting beside him at the table. "you didn't dissappoint me after all."

"well not after you threatened to break up with me."

"that was only a motivator!" you exclaimed as he barked out a laugh, shoving him in the shoulder. "seriously, theo, thank you. it means a lot to me."

"you're welcome, cara mia."

[tansyuduri]

Art by @kairennart for "Treat Me Warmly"

Arthur returned to the bed and pulled Merlin close to him. Then he looked away. 

“Have to stay close for warmth,” Arthur stumbled over the words, likely due to the cold, his tone almost apologetic. Merlin had to reassure him! 

“It’s fine. I enjoy it.” The words came tumbling out of Merlin's mouth before he could stop them. He wanted to hit himself and started screaming internally. WHY HAD HE SAID THAT!?

Arthur froze, turning his head so his eyes met Merlin's. Then his blue eyes narrowed. “Wait, you enjoy it? You enjoy me holding you?”

Merlin panicked. “No! I didn't mean– I mean, yes, but no! It doesn't have to mean anything, and yes... no… I… enjoy the warmth… I mean you holding me is a bonus! NO! I mean, I don’t enjoy it at all! I mean…”

“I enjoy it too,” Arthur mumbled as he held Merlin against him. A grin started to form on his face. “So, stop rambling.”

“I mean, we never have to talk about or, or do anything about it. I mean, not that there is anything to do anything about. I mean…” Merlin broke off as Arthur’s words registered. “You enjoy it too?” he stammered in disbelief. 

“Yes, Merlin.” Arthur looked at him and sighed.

Fic found here

[dizzyhslightlyvoided]

Ramona: Yeah, uh, Roxie and I are both trans women.

Scott: Oh! So that's how she's one of your "evil ex boyfriends" despite being a girl!

Roxie, six inches from slicing him to bits depending on what he says next: Oh?

Scott, oblivious: Not "ex ... boyfriend", but "ex-boy ... friend!"

Roxie: ... y'know, that's the funniest way I've ever heard any "cis" person describe it.

Scott: Oh, really? -- Wait, why was "cis" in quotes?

Ramona, as innocently as she can manage: What do you mean in quotes?

Roxie, ditto: Yeah, this is a verbal conversation.

Scott: Uhhh, never mind.

The catgirl speedrunner from the High Council of Trans Women who was ready to clip through the wall and deck Ramona or Roxie in the face if either of them tried to violate the Trans Prime Directive, like with the Vegan Police: (retreats)