This fic is dedicated to everyone who's addicted to fanfiction.

Even though I did my best, I'm worried that I made Yami a little OOC. Hopefully, I'm just being overly critical of myself, but the Pharaoh isn't really the type to fit well in a light-hearted, almost-parody type fic. So, if he is OOC, I am extremely sorry. (It's not as bad as when I'd envisioned Seto Kaiba as being the main character.)

Anyway, this is just something I thought up when I was in school, and I hope everyone here gets a kick out of it. And, just so you know, there's a minor breaking of the fourth dimension (go to my profile under 'spontaneous facts' if you don't know what that is). Also, there is the use of the 's-word,' but I didn't see it as being enough to warrant an upping of the rating.

I don't own Yugioh!.

It was fifth period at Domino High, Yami's psychology class. Well, technically it was now sociology since the semesters had changed, but everyone still called it psych. It was the only class he and Yugi weren't able to be together in, which was kind of hard on the two after having spent so long in the same body together.

The class was supposed to be doing something on the computers. Yami had heard the words, "Powerpoint… individually… due Thursday… directions on the net…," but Yami was busy thinking of something completely different.

The sight of all the computers in the lab being used as the psych classroom had Yami figuratively and literally on the edge of his seat, waiting for the command to—

"Alright, everyone, let's get to it!" Mr. Bronze directed, clapping his hands in emphasis.

Rolling his eyes, Yami did his best to hurry to the computer closest to him without giving the impression of rushing. When he reached it, his fingers were already flying over the keyboard, logging him in before he even sat down. Yami was ready to bet that he could give even Kaiba a run for his money when it came to his recently developed typing skills.

Okay, maybe he wasn't that good, and Kaiba did have a hell of a lot of money to run with.

Anyway, now he had to wait for the out-of-date, over-stressed system to boot up.

Great, he sarcastically quipped in his mind. If the stupid computer didn't hurry up, Yami knew he was going to lose the idea that had popped into his head.

He ground his teeth. He wished he was at home, where the laptop Solomon Moto had given him actually worked.

The computer continued logging on at its own, snail's pace, making Yami fidget, bouncing his knee feverishly up and down and obsessively tapping his fingers against his cheek.

So many things had come into Yami's sights and abilities once he'd gained his own body, but certain things had definitely stuck out, highlighting Yami's new life that was now completely his own.

Let's see. Should I make it Shuichi-bashing fic, or maybe a yaoi? No, remember, you can't write yaoi in case anyone ever finds out that it's you writing this stuff. Okay, so something to do with bashing Shuichi… maybe I could have Eiri dump him and run away with Hiro or Tohma? Hell, I could really break his heart and get Eiri and Ryuichi together.

Yami smiled cruelly to himself. He didn't mind Shuichi that much, he actually reminded Yami of what a child of Joey's and Yugi's would turn out like.

Now, that would make a good fic. Wonder if anyone's done a JoeyxYugi mpreg? But, that would be yaoi again. Damn it!

…I could do that idea Bakura had for "Death Note," the one with Ryuk discovering applesauce that he said I could use? That would be the first humor fic that I published. Hmm. It would be an interesting addition to my range…

But, that wouldn't be my idea…

Shit!

"Yami? What did you just say?" Mr. Bronze asked from behind him.

"I don't believe I meant to say anything aloud, Mr. Bronze," Yami responded, distantly, just barely glancing over his shoulder at the teacher.

"Well, whether you meant to say it aloud or not, I don't want to hear any more expletives in my class again, got it?" Mr. Bronze persisted.

"Yes, sir," Yami responded mildly, turning back to the computer screen with a blank mind.

Oh, no. I've completely lost any idea as to what I was going to write! NO!

If Yami were in Yugi's place he felt he just might start crying.

That was it. For Christmas, he was so asking for a voice recorder so that he could have a log of every bloody thought he had in regards to fanfiction. No excuses for lost ideas then. Nope.

Every fanfiction writer should be issued a voice recorder upon joining, as well as about a hundred blank discs on which to back everything up on. Yami had actually cried angry, wretched sobs when, several months ago, he had shut down his computer without saving the chapter he'd spent hours working on and the whole of his day's work had been wiped away as if it had never existed.

Grampa Moto had comforted him that the chapter would probably turn out even better when Yami rewrote it, and Yugi had reminded him that the readers could wait just a little longer for an update. Neither of them had done much to lift Yami's spirits, but at least they'd tried… Yami guessed.

Let's see an anime character, or any character at all, put up with a disappointment like that, and survive it wholly unscathed…

Wait a minute…

"I got it!" Yami shouted, springing up from his seat.

"Yami, what is going on? Why are you—?"

"I'm not feeling well, Mr. Bronze. I'm going home," Yami announced, hurriedly stumbling over seats and desks on his way to his backpack.

"You don't look sick in the least, Yami," Mr. Bronze pointed out, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.

"Uh, well… Bye!" Yami made a mad dash for the door.

"Mr. Moto!" he heard yelled after him as he ran down the hall and around the corner, to freedom, to his beloved laptop, to fanfiction.

Thanks for reading! The second chapter takes up the night after Yami runs out.

Can you believe it? There is only a single mpreg fic between Joey and Yugi on this site, and it's in Spanish. I'm shocked, incredibly so, as well as amused ^-^. I mean, if you can get Seto Kaiba pregnant by various people, you could at least get Yugi pregnant by Wheeler more often, don't you think? (Don't flame for this last comment. It was all meant in good fun.)