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Everyone's a Critic

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"What are you doing?" Liam asked, taking a swig of his beer as he dropped down on the sofa beside Sam.

Sam didn't glance up from his laptop. "Writing fanfiction."

Liam opened his mouth. Then, without saying a word, he closed it again and instead took another drink of beer.

"I'm almost scared to ask," he said slowly, after a long pause that made it clear he hadn't imagined Sam's reply, "but why are you writing fanfiction?"

This time Sam did look away from his screen. "Because I read some earlier, and the writer got everything wrong. I figured I could do a better job."

There were so many things wrong with that sentence that Liam didn't even want to start in on it. Sometimes it was better to pick your battles.

"What kind of fanfiction are you writing?" Liam asked, not entirely certain that he wanted to know the answer. "I'm assuming it's for Critical Role." He narrowed his eyes. "Are you writing about our characters?"

He took another sip of beer.

Sam's gaze was focused on his computer again. "Nope," he said cheerfully. "It's about us."

Liam choked on his beer. Just a little. He felt that it was justified.

"Okay, I'll bite," he said, coughing a bit as his beer attempted to go down his windpipe, "why are you writing fanfiction about us?"

Sam shrugged. "Why not?"

Liam stared at him for a moment. "That's fair," he agreed. "Budge over. If you're going to write fanfiction about me, then I want a say in it."

*

"We don't need to add aliens," Liam repeated for the third time.

Sam opened his mouth.

"No aliens."

"Fine. What about—"

"No."

"You don't even know what I was going ask!"

"Sure I do. And the answer's 'no.'"

*

"My penis is larger than that!" Sam cut in, gesturing at the descriptive sentence Liam had just finished writing.

Liam raised his eyebrows. "Sam, husband, love of my life—"

"Fine, but you have to agree that my penis should be larger than that."

*

"That's not how you use a wine aerator!"

"It's fanfiction," Liam said, glancing over at him. "It doesn't have to be completely accurate."

Sam glared at him.

After a long pause, Liam sighed and deleted the paragraph he'd just written. "Fine," he said, handing the laptop over. "You write this part."

*

"Are you writing about making out with a wine aerator?"

Sam covered the computer screen with his hand. "No."

Liam gave him a look.

"Maybe?"

*

"That's completely unrealistic."

Sam reread the scene again before giving up. "What's unrealistic?"

"That!" Liam leaned in and pointed at a sentence in the center. "Come on, nobody's going to buy that line. Also, you misspelled Trinket."

*

"Do you really think anyone's going to want to read this mess?" Sam asked.

"Sure," Liam said, "people will read anything."

"I just wrote 700 words involving very improper usage of a wine aerator."

"People will read almost anything."

*

Sam raised his eyebrows. "First of all, what's a kink meme?" he asked. "And exactly how long have you been secretly writing for it?"

Liam waved his mostly empty beer glass in his direction. "Something like two years now? Taliesin's written a lot more than me."

"But what is it?"

*

"Just how many prompts are you going to leave?" Liam asked, frowning.

Sam absentmindedly waved a hand in his direction. "I'm almost done. Then we can get back to writing."

Liam leaned forward, looking more closely at the computer screen. "I'm pretty sure that Obby the Rat is spelled O-B-B-Y and not O-B-I." He tilted his head. "And did you mean to write Travis, or was it supposed to be Tarvis?"

*

"This fill on the kink meme is disturbingly accurate," Sam said slowly.

Liam took a look at the screen. "I'm pretty sure that Taliesin wrote that one."

"How can you tell?"

"Who else would know that about you?" Liam asked.

Sam paused for a second. "You have a point."

*

"I'm fairly certain that's not anatomically possible," Sam said skeptically.

Liam grinned. "Sure it is."

Sam crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Prove it."

"Sure," Liam replied without even a second's hesitation. "Do you remember where we left the handcuffs?"

"I think they're over there."

*

"I told you that it wasn't anatomically possible."

"Shut up."

"Do you want me to look for those handcuff keys again, or would you rather I try to get those feathers out of your—"

"Shut up."

*

"Can you move your hand for just a second?" Liam asked distractedly. "I just thought of something to add to that first part of the fic."

"Sure."

The laptop dropped to the floor with a thud. "Shit!"

"Oh," Sam asked sheepishly, "is that not where you wanted me move my hand?"

Liam made a strangled sound.

*

"Should we talk about writing fanfiction in our next podcast?" Sam asked.

Liam frowned. "We have a podcast?"

"That's what people on the internet keep saying."

"Huh. Weird."

*

"I think we might be finished," Liam said slowly.

Sam grinned. "Let's post it," he said. "I found a site earlier that had all sorts of fanfiction about us."

"If it's the one I think it is, we can use my account."

"Wait, you have an account? Liam, just how much fanfiction have you written about us?"

"About us? Not that much. About our characters, well, that's another story."

*

"Why is your name listed first?" Sam asked, frowning.

Liam shrugged. "It's probably alphabetical."

"I want my name first," Sam said, shaking his head. "Hand over the laptop. I need to change it."

"You can't change it! That's the canonical tag."

"I don't even know what that means."

"It means my name is going to be listed first."

*

"What's a Yuletide and do I want to sign up for it?"

Liam pressed a kiss against Sam's cheek before leaned forward to take a closer look at the screen. "I have no idea," he said, "but why not? What's the worst that could happen?"