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#fic I wrote

From the driver’s seat Rishi says, “It’s not the seeing, it’s the doing.

Quentin feels like this should mean something to him, but several cups of coffee later it’s still taking a lot of effort to focus and his head is full of the spell modifications he’s spent the past two hours learning. “The what?“

chapter three is up!  featuring: spell modifications; new findings on permeability; roads diverging; the buzz of september; wistful cartography; hills; & an unwelcome revelation.

read on ao3.

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Title: Welcome to Your Future
Author: klove0511
Artist: ncdover1285
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: T
Warnings/Spoilers: Angst with a Happy Ending, Time Travel, Pre-Series Dean Winchester, season 9/10 Sam Winchester, Mutual Pining, implied unrequited sam/cas, Show level violence, Demon Dean Winchester, Implied/Referenced Suicide (no actual suicide)

Summary:  When Dean is suddenly pulled through time, he’s confronted with a broken little brother a decade older than he should be. With Sam determined to send Dean back to his own time, will Dean be able to figure out where his present day counterpart is and fix things for Sam?

Art: Tumblr 
Story:  Ao3

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In fact he wants to be drunk right now, very badly, and for the rest of the day, and tomorrow as well. And like — would that really be so bad? On the one hand, he did almost drown himself, which would have been an even more embarrassing way to die than he’d managed the first time around. But on other hand: he’s an idiot. He totally could have done that sober. And plenty of very successful people have gone through life avoiding sobriety. Faulkner, for one. Poe. Hemingway — not a great example. But Dorothy Parker lived to seventy-three. That feels wildly optimistic for him. Not just writers, either. Grant won the Civil War drunk. Orson Welles made Citizen Kane. Mayakovsky —

— well, fuck.

chapter two of life on the west coast, featuring: reluctant phone calls; friends of bill; trial and error; new endeavors; burger chain comparisons; a brief history of neo-exorcism; half-remembered magazine articles; vernacular magic; the correct way to listen to animal collective.

read on ao3.

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Walking back through the wards around the house by the bay after Julia’s driven off, as alone as he’s been in his entire life, Quentin has a vision of what’s to come. He’ll settle into his new lodgings and here in the place where he’s chosen to stay, fortified by the boldness of his own decision, he will fix his fucking life. He’ll move on from the sting of his own self-injured pride and he’ll end the marathon pity party and he’ll just get his stupid shit together at last. He’ll trade cheap beer for organic smoothies with like wheatgrass for the antioxidants or whatever and late nights for early mornings and in the long daylight hours he’ll find his way to the person he’s supposed to be. He’ll read books and figure out a career path that will eventually end his financial dependence on his best friend’s trust fund and never again fuck a stranger whose name he can’t remember in the morning and eat a billion salads and like nine thousand fewer calories in sugar and grease and quit smoking and develop a taste for kombucha and have these epiphanies on the beach about what it’s really all about and when in a few weeks he has the answer and some practice behind him of being a functional adult he’ll go back to New York ready to rebuild the bridges he burned and step back into his actual life and be his old self minus the internal time bomb that set him on this path in the first place. Mended and exorcised, freshly made clean. He’ll be better and he’ll be smarter and more grown-up and a better daughter or — well, okay, that’s definitely a Rilo Kiley song, but. The concept is sound. Quentin pauses at the door of the mint-green house, under the birdsong windchime chirping its hello, to consecrate the moment in his mind, feeling awash with hope: New leaf, bitches. No more looking back.

So yeah, that lasts — what, like an hour? Not even.

Which in retrospect, he thinks, lying on the bed he guesses he’ll have to start thinking of as his, moving only to day-drink his way through the bottle of wine he left the house for exactly the fifteen minutes it took to acquire it and come back and occasionally to tell Netflix that yes he is still watching Arrested Development, like, god, even fucking algorithms can’t just let him live — like, he really should have known.

hello! this is the beginning of the story that comes after damage control! it is, at heart, mostly a story about quentin trying to figure it out on a beach, and about what comes after the aftermath (and, yes, eventually of course a story about quentin and eliot being boyfriends, i’m not a MONSTER); it’s evolved as i’ve worked on it to also be a story about magic, and a way for me to answer some of the questions posed or implied by the magicians in alternate ways. that comes in a little later, though; this chapter is mostly quentin, featuring baby steps; organic paninis; wildfires; teen spirit; the 27 club; broken mirrors; selkie magic; the uncanny valley.

read on ao3.

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Yachi has been one of Hinata’s best friends for a long time now, so he’s pretty used to her skittish nature and random panic attacks. It still comes as a surprise when she walks into his apartment and shrieks in terror, then dives behind the kitchen counter.


“Hinata,” Yachi wheezes out through her panic, “why do you have a panther in your room?”

“Panther?” Hinata looks over to his new pet, who has padded over to Hinata is nosing his hands for treats. “I told you about him, remember? I found him on the street.”

“You said you rescued a dog!”

“Isn’t he?” Hinata says, patting Yamayama on the head.

“No! That is a full grown panther! Hinata, you don’t actually believe that’s a dog, do you?” Her voice carries a tone he’s used to hearing, although not usually from Yachi. It’s mostly a, “even you can’t be this much of an idiot” voice, and Hinata resents the tone now.

Because, okay, sure, Yamayama doesn’t really look like a dog. Hinata knows that. When he found Yamayama outside his house, injured and covered in mud, he hadn’t looked much like anything. Probably a dog. Then he followed Hinata home, and he behaved very nicely and let Hinata give him a bath and he ate half of the bento Hinata bought at the supermarket for his dinner. Yamayama was still recovering from his injuries, but he would play fetch with Hinata whenever Hinata tossed a volleyball at him, so really, even though he wasn’t exactly canine-shaped, Hinata feels like he’s justified in thinking Yamayama is just a really strange looking dog. It certainly made more sense than thinking there was a wild panther loose in Tokyo who really likes katsudon and volleyball.

Hinata tries explaining this, but Yachi doesn’t cut him any kind of slack. “He’s probably some rich guy’s pet! There are all kinds of people who keep wild cats as pets, there was a whole documentary and everything. Hinata, you have to call a zoo or something!”

“What, why? If he’s a pet, then he can just be my pet.” Considering how beat up Yamayama had been, Hinata feels like clearly his previous owners do not deserve him.

“Because he’s still a wild animal! Even the pets occasionally eat their owners.”

“Oh.” Hinata looks down at his dog (panther), who just licks his hand. Hinata pats him on the head. “Yamayama wouldn’t eat me, would you, Yamayama-kun?” He rubs the panther’s head, who starts to purr. It occurs to Hinata that he had thought the purring was strange behavior for a dog.

“Yamayama?” Yachi says, sounding surprised instead of panicked for the first time since she walked into his apartment. “Like Kageyama? Did you name your panther after the guy you have a crush on?“

The panther abruptly stops purring and stares at Hinata. Hinata jumps up and says, "I don’t have a crush on him! Shut up!”

“Yes, you do, you never shut up about him. Did you really name him after your crush?”

“‘Cuz he has black fur,” Hinata mumbles. “And he was really grumpy when I first brought him home. It reminded me of Kageyama, that’s all. It’s not because I have a crush. Because I don’t.”

“Uh huh. Call the zoo, Hinata, it’s mean to keep a wild animal in an apartment this size.”

Hinata sighs and looks down at Yamayama, who is still staring intently at him. “I’ll call tomorrow, I guess.”


He goes to bed feeling very dejected. Yamayama jumps up next to him, like he has the past couple of weeks. Hinata wraps his arms around him and says, “I’m going to miss you. I liked having a dog. You were so clean and you didn’t bark at all and, yes, I probably should have figured it out sooner, but still. You’re a good dog.” Hinata’s going to miss the company. 


Hinata wakes up in the middle night to find Kageyama Tobio holding him. He’s pretty sure he’s dreaming. It wouldn’t be the first time Kageyama has appeared in his dreams. He pats Kageyama on the head, because it’s a dream and he can do anything.

“Not a dog, dumbass,” Kageyama mumbles in his sleep, holding Hinata closer. 

That’s certainly a weird thing for Kageyama to say, but it’s a dream and doesn’t need to make sense. Hinata goes back to sleep.

A/N: Thanks for the prompt, friend! I couldn’t quite capture everything, but it was fun to do a different variation on Haikyuu shapeshifters =D

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The biggest surprise about becoming a Hafuri is how suddenly desirable he is. Youji is the shinki of an unpopular god of destruction, and up until now, had been snubbed as a worthless weapon. Before that, he was a worthless ghost, and while he can’t remember his human life, he’s pretty sure he was a worthless man.

So it’s a little unsettling to now be sought after.

“Really, Youji, just imagine what we could do together,” Everett says. “My shrine is so large. I can give you anything you want, every luxury you can think of, any kind of pleasure.” Everett is a god of prosperity, so of course he gets a lot of prayers and the best shrines. Youji is a little distracted by the fact that Everett’s hand is currently on Youji’s lower back, in a half-embrace that brings them very close together.

“Ah, thank you?” Youji says, a little flustered by this attention. “I mean, that’s nice. You have so many shinki, though. You don’t really need me.”

“I don’t have any Blessed Regalia,” Everett points out, which Youji thinks is an unnecessarily fact to mention. There are only two shinki who have transitioned to Hafuri, Youji and Hinami, and Hinami would never leave the goddess of wisdom. Youji wishes Hinami would have warned him that other gods would be interested in him after he transitioned. (But then, maybe she hadn’t known. It would be obvious to all that Hinami is fiercely loyal to Shiori. Hinami would have attacked anyone who dared suggest she should leave Shiori.)

“Come, Youji, I have so much to offer you,” Everett says, low and enticing. Youji can’t help but feel a little regretful, as Everett is very rich, and also rather good-looking.

“Sorry, Everett. I’m Masaomi’s shinki. Always.”

“We’ll see,” Everett says. “Always is a long time. I’m sure I can persuade you eventually.”

Youji shakes his head. He’s about to let Everett down a little firmer this time, when he hears, “Hey, let go of Youji!”

A hand sneaks around Youji’s waist and pulls him into an unexpected hold. “Don’t try and steal Youji just because he’s the best. If you want a Hafuri so bad you can get one of your shinki to do it.”

Youji rather likes how Masaomi holds him, like he’s something precious that he doesn’t want to lose. And Masaomi smells nice. Youji has always thought so. 

“Think about what I said, Youji,” Everett says, ignoring Masaomi completely as he makes his exit.

“I’ll be richer than him some day,” Masaomi says. “I have a plan.”

“Sure, Masa-chan,” Youji says. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“You said always,” Masaomi says. “I’m holding you to that.”

“You heard that? How long were you listening?”

“Not important! Let’s go drinking.” Masaomi releases his hold and Youji, but grabs his hand and leads him away. Masaomi might not be a popular god, but Youji can’t imagine putting his life on the line for anyone else.

A/N: Thanks, anon-friend! MasaYou is always a viable option for prompts =D And as an obligatory self-promotion, you can read a whole bunch of Masaomi and Youji in Shine the Brightest! Also, I want you to know that when I got your ask, I went, “I have a Noragami MasaYou AU?? That sounds like a thing I could have written, but I have no memories of this.” I was able to find the first part, though, so that was fun! Thank you! I’m glad you enjoy them!!

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Title: Titans Remembered 
Artist: Midnight Silver 
Author: Klove0511
Rating: T
Warnings/Spoilers: Brief, non-graphic attempted bestiality; referenced animal sacrifice, hurt Dean
Summary: Following a string of missing people and livestock mutilations, Sam and Dean stumble on a case where the monster has a personal beef with them. When Dean gets himself in trouble trying to do everything himself, Sam must come to the rescue and remind him that they’re better as a team.

A/N: Written for the 2020 Wincest Reverse Bang, and inspired by the wonderful art of Midnight Silver Go check out the art post and give them some love!

Art: Tumblr 
Story: on Ao3

Dean glanced at the clock for the fifth time in two minutes. He was bored, and he wished he’d pushed harder to go with Sam to interview the witnesses. Their interview styles complemented each other, and sometimes that got them more information than they would get alone. Besides, it got him out of research. He sighed and clicked open a new browser window. Something wasn’t sitting right about this case, but he couldn’t figure out what. He’d learned to trust his instincts, though. He mentally reviewed what they knew from the news articles that had brought them here and away from their research on the Darkness. Four missing people in the last two weeks, with multiple more over the last three years, unrelated and having nothing obvious in common. A rash of livestock mutilations in the same time period that included a wide variety of animals from the usual cows to pigs and sheep. Their working theory was a demon, but Dean’s gut said they were on the wrong track there. There weren’t enough other demonic omens, and while cattle mutilations were a common sign, other types of livestock were usually left alone. It was possible that the animals were unconnected, but he doubted it. Rubbing his hands down his face, he groaned and mentally ran through the list of monsters they knew about. No bodies, no full moon and no missing hearts said it probably wasn’t a werewolf. No reports of seeing double or people suddenly acting weird, so not a shifter. No throats torn open, not a vamp. Just missing people and dead animals.

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hogwarts au? hogwarts au. tell me about rose (and the doctor? and charley?) at hogwarts!

Oh Abbey, bless you for just sending me asks based on the nonsense I’m already spewing at you. Here have 300 words of nonsense. 

“So, what do they say?” 

“The tea leaves?”

“No, the apples I’m about to throw at your head.”  Rose rolled her eyes from her perch in the apple tree behind Hagrid’s hut. They’d been coming down here to study since first year, when she’d been so desperately behind in History of Magic and needed a distraction to keep herself focused.

“Well, I suspect they’ll say something on the order of ‘What a bonehead.’“ 

Charley snorted from where she was sprawled to his left, a wide berth left between them, her Ancient Runes text spread open on the ground in front of her. “Don’t throw the apples. You promised whatever you picked to Hagrid earlier.”

Rose sighed and looked at her little basket. She doubted it would be enough for much cider, but she did promise the groundskeeper the apples. “Oh alright. Anyway, what did the tea leaves say, Mr. Divination Expert.”

“Based on the color, shape and texture of what’s left behind? You had a horrid cup of tea.”

“Thanks. Care to share anything I didn’t know?” Rose said, turning back to the apples in the branches of the tree

“I preferred it when you were calling me Doctor.”

“We knew that too,” Charley said, her tone betraying an edge of amusement. “Anyway, why are you asking him to read the tea leaves, it’s your homework.”

Rose tossed an apple petulantly into the basket against the trunk of the tree. “It’s stupid. They all mean things but there’s no way to know for sure.”

“It’s a matter of probability. Like Arithmancy, only with tea.” 

“Don’t even start with your comparison of Arithmancy and Divination. They’re in no way alike.” 

She heard the responsive gasp, and couldn’t help giggling to herself as the familiar argument started up below her. Maybe today was a wash for studying, but that was okay, she was happy to sit in her tree, fall wind gentle around her and listen to her best friends argue about their classes. They’d only had these new classes for a month, and already this was a common argument. Rose was just glad she’d not even attempted Runes or Arithmancy. Her head spun every time she saw Charley’s assignments. But that was okay. Rose knew she’d never be particularly good at Divination, or History, or probably even Transfiguration. But she still wouldn’t trade magic for anything.

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Summary: Dean has been missing for two weeks, and Sam is trying to bake a pie.

Pairing: None/Gen

Word Count: 535

Rating: G

Warnings: None

Additional Tags: pre-season 14, Sam, Castiel, pie

Square Filled: pie baking

A/N: written for @spngenrebingo. Thanks to my beta @agent-lizzo for looking this over for me!

Read on AO3

Castiel knew something was wrong as soon as he entered the bunker, but he had difficulty identifying what it was at first. It was loud, as it always was these days. Small groups of hunters from Apocalypse World congregated in the library, around the map table, all over. They made extraordinary amounts of noise and clutter. Cas couldn’t help but think Dean would be annoyed by that when they finally found him. But none of that was out of the ordinary. No, this was…something else.

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I thought I for once would do a compilation of the fics I wrote last year. Especially since I realized I managed to write four whole (very short) stories last year. Yay!


Charles and Erik meet up at their usual spot, at the usual time, and play their usual game of chess. Only today the game has a rather unusual end.

On A Beach In Genosha With You

Charles and Erik celebrate New Years Eve 1993 on the beach in Genosha.

Stay With Me

The Dark Phoenix AU in which Erik asks Jean “Whose blood is it?” and the answer is Charles’.

Professor Lehnsherr

After years of being Charles’ thesis advisor, just as Charles has received his doctorate, Erik tells him that he wants to retire from academia. Well, Charles isn’t letting him go without a fight.

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I was tagged by @toomanylarrytears to share the last line I wrote, so here it is!

He’s out the door before Harry can remind the other man that Harry’s not allowed to be anywhere without Liam, and he just stares at the closed door, nose itching and the tremors in his hand getting stronger with every passing minute.

Prepare for a bucketload of angst, people. (once I actually finish this which could take another two years let’s be realistic)

I tag whoever wants to do this because I honestly can’t remember who has and hasn’t done this already…

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In the Lost Epilogue of The Hot Phlebotomist, which I wrote and decided not to use, Rodney’s waiting for John at the coffee shop:

Twenty minutes sounded ideal twelve minutes ago–enough time for him to prepare, but not so much that he overprepares and comes out the other side all crazy–but now that he’s sitting across from an empty chair and still has eight minutes to go he’s starting to think this was a terrible idea. Every time the bell above the door jingles, he looks up; there’s hospital staff coming in alone or in groups, but no John, and Rodney drinks an entire cup of coffee and shreds most of his napkin while running through all the ways this could go wrong. What if John changes his mind? What if he never meant to come at all? What if he’s hit by a bus crossing the street and Rodney’s so upset by the accident he unthinkingly orders the blackberry and lemon pancakes and has to be rushed to the emergency room where they’re put in adjacent beds and get sick of each other’s company? This is a terrible date, and if John ever gets here, Rodney’s going to tell him so.  

@esteefee expressed interest in an AU where they meet by ending up in adjacent hospital beds, which would be so good and also so terrible.

All you hear out of Rodney’s curtain is a steady stream of complaints interspersed with him begging to use his laptop for “just, like, fifteen minutes, I swear.” And from behind John’s curtain, some gentle snores and the occasional Beep! Bloop! Boing! Rodney discovers John has a Nintendo DS over there and “Why does he get an electronic device and I don’t? It’s not like we’re on an airplane and checking my email will send us crashing into a mountain! In fact, if you don’t let me check my email there’s a good chance we all might die!”

That gets him in trouble with the nurses, of course, and he can hear the other guy snickering behind his curtain, followed by a flourish of digital trumpets.

“Hey, psst, can you get the internet on that thing?”

“Did you just ‘psst’ me?”

“Answer the question! Wifi–do you have it?”

“Well, sure. How else am I gonna upgrade Cooking Mama’s rice maker?”

And then Rodney has to take another little break because the spike in his blood pressure makes all his machines beep and the doctor comes in to frown at him.

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Buck: don’t you miss me? Even a little?

Eddie can both hear and see the face Buck is making right now and he has to admit he is finding Buck extremely charming right now.

Eddie: I’m going to bed Evan

Buck: Ohhh the first name…so you’re definitely feeling some kind of way with me right now…probably annoyed huh?

Eddie smiles to himself.

Eddie: Goodnight Evan.

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