#later on there will probably be a couple short uploads as extras to the fic like scenes i wanted to include but couldnt find the right place

[fruitybashir]

Haven’t stopped thinking all week about Kris’s intentions for what he wants to do to Bojan when he gets him home. Will that part feature in the next chapter (*giggle)?

aaa im afraid ill have to disappoint on that part :D this chapter is very much pure fucking fluff and self growth and realisations etc <3

[evanjinx]

alternative universe buddie fics recs :)

note: the links weren't working the first time i wrote the post but i edited and they're okay now!! if it still isn't working for you is probably because you're trying to open from a reblog from before i edit it, so try open directly from the original post on my profile.

Blind Date by @sassypopstar [complete | teen and up audiences | 3.8k words]

Buck feels a little ridiculous dressed in a jacket and a shirt. But Maddie had insisted on him dressing up for the occasion and even Chimney had quipped that it’s the right thing to do. So Buck, who never went on a blind date before in his life, listened to his big sister and her boyfriend because apparently that’s who he is now. Or the one where Buck goes on a blind date with someone called Eddie.

Buckley's Bouquets by awashleyno [complete | teen and up audiences | 23.4k words]

A world where Buck owns a flower shop and manages to develop a huge, massive, ridiculous crush on a handsome firefighter that comes in for a visit one day. Or, 5 times Eddie gives flowers to other people and the 1 time he gives them to Buck.

Call It What You Will - Fate? Destiny? (A Tsunami) by @abow123456 [complete | mature | 20k words]

Evan Buckley's day of relaxation is cut short when a tsunami hits the beach he was relaxing at. He has to fight to keep himself and a lost little boy safe from the water, as well as anyone else he finds. After, he meets the boys father and family, and it causes a snowball effect of good things for him, for once.

Capuccino with extra, extra sugar by buckbng [complete | teen and up audiences | 2.7k words]

Buck is the cute barista and Eddie is the grinch that hates coffee. Until, he doesn't. Because if Buck says he looks like the kind of person that would love a cappuccino, who's Eddie to disagree with him? OR Eddie really doesn't like coffee but pretends he does just so he has an excuse to see the cute barista at the coffee shop.

Confirmation Bias by strifechaos [complete | mature | 31k words]

After the fallout with his ex-wife, Eddie believed he could only trust his family with his son. He hadn’t imagined falling for his son’s sweet-hearted nanny, Buck. With his own family so distant, Buck never considered that he’d be lucky enough to find a home for himself, let alone people he could count on. Not until he meets the Diaz boys. AU: Buck was never a firefighter, and becomes Christopher's sitter when Shannon's job takes her away from Eddie and Chris for the summer. Eddie tries to not fall for his son's nanny, he's not very successful.

dream of some epiphany by extasiswings [complete | mature | 7.3k words]

Evan Buckley is lost. It’s happenstance that he wanders into the navy recruiting center—he’s been in San Diego for a few weeks, bartending late nights and weekends, living in a house with three other guys not because he needs the roommates but because he doesn’t want to be alone, and the military is…respectable. Stable. So Buck thinks maybe and opens the door. Buck leaves ten minutes later with a set of printed instructions for sending his first letter, assured that he can drop it off whenever he’s ready, and a name. Staff Sergeant Edmundo “Eddie” Diaz.

Frequent Flyer by red_to_black [complete | mature | 13.4k words]

In his entire time being a firefighter, Eddie has never met anyone as accident-prone as Evan Buckley. And Buck - well, he's quickly becoming the 118's best customer. (Or - the one where Eddie is a firefighter, Buck isn't, and Eddie finds himself rescuing Buck from increasingly sticky situations. Sometimes literally.)

Gave me no messages, gave me no signs... by @reallysmartladymariecurie [complete | teen and up audiences | 7.4k words]

"Buck is beyond nervous, and he’s really trying to convince himself that the familiarity of the situation is not some sort of bad omen. Just because there are parallels of the start of his relationship with Eddie to that of his relationship with Abby doesn’t mean that this new adventure is destined to end in the same miserable fashion. He hopes it won’t, has to believe it won’t. Because even with Abby, he hadn’t fallen this hard for her before their first official date. With Eddie, everything is already intensified by a thousand." Or, Buck covers a shift for a firefighter at the 136 and it leads to a budding relationship through text messages.

Gotta Find My Corner (Of the Sky) by doctornineandthreequarters [complete | general audiences | 31.3k words]

It was the last day of 2016 and two lost souls found themselves in a quiet dive bar, as the loud noises of the city celebrating New Year’s Eve buzzed around them. Most people chose loud, flashy bars with DJs and entrance fees and promises of champagne for New Year’s Eve. But both occupants of the dive bar preferred the quiet. They both didn’t need the added chaos when everything around them already felt chaotic. --- Or, Buck and Eddie meet on New Year's Eve, 2016, a meeting that sets of a series of events that changes the trajectory of both of their lives.

I Didn't Know I Was Lonely 'Till I Saw Your Face by @hmslusitania [complete | general audiences | 10.4k words]

After the ladder truck and the blood clot and the tsunami, Bobby makes Buck go to therapy before he does something stupid (like sue the city). Buck's not totally comfortable being alone with a therapist, but fortunately he makes a friend and ally who's willing to help him out - Eddie Diaz from the 136 who's just been caught in an illegal fight club. OR Total strangers Buck and Eddie go to couple's therapy together to get out of the therapy requirements their captains have placed on them.

i want your midnights by allyasavedtheday [complete | teen and up audiences | 36.3k words]

In which Eddie decides to rent out his spare room to help with mortgage repayments right around the time Buck decides to move out of Abby's place after some not so gentle prodding from Maddie. It's a coincidence. Or serendipity. Or maybe just really good timing.

i wanna be know (by you) by @starlightbuck [complete | general audiences | 12.5k words]

“I didn’t mean to do it.” Hen glances down at Eddie’s phone then back up at him in disbelief.

“How do you ‘not mean’ to download a bunch of dating apps but still have them on your phone?”

Or  In which Eddie delves into the intimidating world of online dating.

if i got locked away (would you still love me the same?) by @firefighterhan [complete | general audiences | 3.7k words]

Buck gets accidentally thrown in jail after meddling in a fight outside of a grocery store. There, he meets an unexpected guest, famous music artist Eddie Diaz, who is being suspiciously quiet about how he ended up here in the first place.

if only in my dreams by @buttercupbuck [complete | general audiences | 5.4k words]

Years before Eddie joins the 118, Buck meets him at an airport bar on Christmas day.

in a week by @buttercupbuck [complete | explicit | 78.9k]

in which Eddie joins the U.S. Forest Service and in the meadows of California, finds the things he thought he lost and the things he thought he'd never have.

It Started With A Bang And A Hostage Situation by JayJay__884 [complete | general audiences | 6.6k words]

Buck goes to the store one late night to buy food because of Maddie's pregnancy cravings. Whilst at the store, Buck accidentally gets caught in the middle of a robbery and gets knocked out. After waking up in the backroom, Buck finds himself as a hostage with a handsome and caring stranger.

Leading with the Left by @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels [complete | explicit | 84.7k]

When Buck said he was a "bartender" in "South America" what he actually meant was "stripper" in "Mexico." And when Eddie said, "What's your problem?" what he actually meant was, "Is this about the time you gave me a lap dance?" In other words, there's a few things the 118 doesn't know about Buck. Or Eddie. Or Buck and Eddie's relationship.

Lift me up by @captain--sif [complete | teen and up audiences | 5.5k words]

Buck gets stuck in his apartment building's broken elevator with his good-looking neighbor from the sixth floor.

Love and Bullets Both Shatter Hearts (But Only One Can Put You Back Together) by @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels [complete | explicit | 11.2k words]

Agent [Redacted] Diaz is the best at what he does. Usually. But lately there's this real pain in the ass* who's been ruining his missions: Code Name "Buck."

*stupidly handsome and annoyingly talented rival spy

Mr. Buckley's After Hours Detention by aresaphrodites [complete | mature | 11.4k words]

It’s not like Eddie Diaz planned on this. Really, there was no scenario in his mind where he would ever be bringing his son’s teacher a freaking goody basket to class; a homemade goody basket, no less. Then again, Christopher has never had a teacher quite like Evan Buckley.

MukbangsWithBuck by @reallysmartladymariecurie [complete | teen and up audiences | 19.3k words]

After growing tired of eating alone in his loft, Buck decides to start a YouTube channel where he records himself eating dinner and telling stories about crazy things his team has encountered on calls. He eventually gains a substantial fanbase, and he is led to the channel of another LA firefighter who uploads informational videos and also casual vlogs with his ten-year-old son. It isn't long before the two start a friendship through messages, both of them secretly hoping it will turn into something more. Or, Eddie and Buck are both firefighters/YouTubers and they end up falling in love.

Objects in the Mirror by SevenSoulmates [complete | explicit | 139.1k words]

The voice had always been around, Eddie remembers it, like a stream of consciousness that babbled incoherently to the point where Eddie just tuned it out.  But then the voice started speaking directly to him. Conversing like he was a whole person standing right in front of him. Like he could see what was happening around Eddie. Eddie shook his head. No one was talking to him, and Eddie most certainly was not talking back. He wouldn’t talk to the boy in his head ever again. There was no boy in his head. 

Passive Aggressive Flirting by @starlingbite [complete | general audiences | 4.5k words]

Buck and Eddie have never met. They both work at the 118 but just on different shifts. That's all about to change when Buck finds a sticky note message, signed E.

String of hearts... by @reallysmartladymariecurie [complete | teen and up audiences | 11.1k words]

“Now. Eddie is this incredible presence. He’s funny and smoking hot, and he has a son who sounds wonderful. And he’s serious and vulnerable at times. But so enjoyable to be around, every single second that he’s there. And how can I put myself out there when the expectation is so high? When the thing I might lose is so beautiful?”

In which Buck owns a plant shop in LA, and Eddie becomes his new favorite customer. Pining ensues.

check out my post of buddie fics with dad!buck

[brokenkingdom-forgottenempire]

Bye, Drew..

Some..angst, I guess? A forced fic by a friend who advised me write a happy, fluffy fic for this ship but also told me to make sad fic for the same ship. The friend is either high, crazy or indecisive ... or all three. 

Summary: Roman and Drew are boyfriends who share house together, but one day Drew gets a new job in a new town. Drew moves out, and soon Roman is forgotten.

More to Roman’s p.o.v.

(16/12/20)

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He was waiting for this day to arrive. They had planned it days earlier. Roman was going to see Drew later after work. They wanted to go watch a movie together. They rarely had times to see one another ever since Drew got a new job outside of town and had to move out of their house. 

Drew would text him everyday, reminding him to eat and to rest. Roman would do the same thing. They did not have to wait for the other person to text first, they would just randomly send out a text. Ever since Drew moved out, Roman did not offer to rent out a room to any of his friends. He wanted the house all to himself. It was the house Roman and Drew used to share anyway. 

First couple of weeks had been rough for Roman. He would come home to an empty house, prepared dinner for himself and watched TV while waiting for Drew’s replies. They rarely met outside, Drew lived an hour away from him. Roman was often busy with his own work too. They were both busy with their own schedules but they would make sure their partners were well. 

Roman did not notice it at first, how Drew’s replies became shorter, how Drew would take longer time to reply to his text. The Samoan told himself that Drew just got the job, he had to perform well for the company so Drew could be extra busy. Roman, however, never stopped sending him texts. He was not bothered by Drew’s late replies at first. Soon, Drew would hardly send him a text. Roman would wait for days but still nothing from Drew. Is he okay? Is he sick? Roman was always the mother hen in their relationship so he would easily get worried about Drew.

Roman would ask Drew if he could call him? Just to hear his boyfriend’s voice for few minutes, but Drew would give him excuses after excuses to avoid any calls. When Drew did agree to have a video call with Roman that night, Drew looked distracted, tired and cold. It was Roman who had been asking questions and Drew would simply reply with a short ‘yea’, ‘no’, ‘okay’, with not further explanation. Roman thought Drew must be tired so he decided to end the call early. Before Roman could greet his boyfriend good night, the video ended. Roman sighed. Maybe Drew was not in a good mood.

Days turned to weeks. Weeks turned to months. Roman did not know what had happened but he realized how cold Drew was towards him. Drew no longer send him anything. Drew would not want to answer his calls. Drew would not even reply to his texts anymore. Roman cried again that night when Drew rejected his call. Again. What did Roman do wrong? Why was Drew acting this way? 

It was closer to Christmas and Roman just wanted to see his boyfriend again. Just once. For few seconds. Roman relentlessly tried to ask Drew out for a dinner and a movie, but Drew rejected the dinner and but fortunately agreed with the movie part. Roman was happy with just that. 

That noon Roman had finished all his work early. He had prepared the needed paperwork for his boss too. He did not want to be bothered during his movie date. He asked his boss for permission to get off work an hour early to get ready. He was excited to see Drew again. Before he left the house, Roman sent texts to his boyfriend, reminding Drew about their date.

Roman drove for an hour to reach to the nearest cinema in Drew’s new area. He waited for Drew’s replies but he received nothing. Roman waited. It was windy outside. Freezing cold too. An hour turned to two. Drew was still nowhere to be seen. Roman did not want to call Drew, worried if the other man was driving but he decided to give it a try.

The line rang once, twice, thee times, several times before Drew answered. “Hello?” Drew’s voice brought a smile on Roman’s cold face. 

“Hey, babe. Just wanted to know where you are,” Roman heard another voice, an unfamiliar one. Who was that? “Are you coming, Drew?” The Samoan’s voice was filled with hopes. 

He later heard Drew sighed at the other side of the line, “Listen, Ro, sorry I didn’t get to tell you earlier, but the office is having a dinner right now and I can’t leave. Maybe next time? Besides, I’ve watched the movie yesterday with my colleague. Sorry, babe,” God, that hurt him. Roman could feel his heart shattered. Drew was ditching him? Was that it? He could not believe this. What did he do wrong? He thought Drew still cared about him- ..was he wrong about that too? Roman swallowed a lump in his throat. He could feel tears at the edge of falling. 

“You still there, Ro?” Drew asked when he realized how quiet Roman was. Roman bit his trembling lower lip hard enough to calm his voice. 

“Yea. Yea, sorry to bother your office dinner, Drew. I didn’t know,” 

“How about we meet another time, huh? My treat next time?” Roman’s head felt light. He did not know what to say. He was not sure if Drew still wanted him around anymore. His mind was a mess at this point. He loved Drew so much. He loved the Scotsman. Drew was his everything before. Drew would always care for him. Drew would at least tell him he would not be coming tonight. Drew would not leave him like this. In the middle of a new town, freezing outside of the building for hours.

“It’s alright, babe. You’re......you’ll probably be too busy with your work too. I’m sorry, Drew but I hope you eat well tonight. I have to go now, the movie is starting soon. Bye, Drew,” Roman did not wait for the other man to answer as he ended the call instantly. Tears ran down his face. Roman had to walk to somewhere less crowded as he cried. Of course, some people were looking at him but it was not like they knew who he was. Roman felt nothing but pain in his chest right now. His heart was broken. His trust was gone. The warmth that he hoped to feel tonight was blown away by the cold winter night. Had Drew really fallen out of love? Did he find someone else there? Roman’s lip was bleeding by the time he had calmed down. He did not want to scream in the middle of the street. 

The Samoan decided to not watch the movie. He went to a café to get himself a hot cup of coffee and a slice of cake. He drove back once he had bought everything he needed for himself that night. He saw Drew called several times during his drive but Roman continued to focus on the road. Sure, he still had tears leaking out of his eyes as he handled the wheel, but he tried to ignore them. Drew did not want him around anymore, what was the point of staying? 

When Roman finally reached home, it was already 10:45pm. He brought everything inside and placed them on the dining table. Roman was exhausted. His eyes hurt. He did not feel like crying anymore. He looked around the small living room area. They used to cuddle up in that sofa. They used to be happy. Drew used to be there for him. Used to. Maybe he did find someone else. Someone new. Someone closer to home. Roman sighed heavily. He could not even bring himself to cry anymore. 

Roman switched on to IG as he sat the box of cake on the small coffee table. It had been awhile since he last logged into his IG account, he almost forgot his own password. His thumb scrolling down to see latest uploaded posts, but suddenly his eyes fixated on one particular post. It was Drew’s. A video actually. Drew was laughing and joking around with another man. A friend, maybe, for now. They went to places together, based on Drew’s IG posts. A recent video was of him went ice skating with the same man. Roman closed his eyes. He was tired. His heart was tired. It was still in pain. He could not breathe properly. 

Roman logged off his account and went to text his friend instead. Mox was in town, Seth was in town, his cousins were still on vacation so he decided to text Mox. 

‘Mind if I sleep at your place tonight?’ Roman clicked send. Lesser than two minutes later, his phone dinged. A reply.

‘’Course not, big dog! Been wanting to drag you out of the house anyway. I’ll call Seth too. Sleepover party, baby!’ Mox’s reply made Roman smile again. He laughed a little before he told Mox he was packing his things up. He did not think he could sleep in his own house tonight. Not with this heartache. Roman packed whatever he needed and drove away to Mox’s place. 

Drew sent him some texts that night, asking Roman where he was and if he had made it home safely. He tried to call Roman again the next day but Roman just stared at the little device in his hand as it rang, and later tucked it away. His chest still hurt. It was like someone just set his whole ribcage on fire. Maybe it was the best for both of them. Roman locked the door to his small home. The home he used to share with Drew. He was staying with Mox for now.. Drew did not need to know that.

Bye, Drew.....

[n0iseyniya]

Baby-Doll {1/?}

Warnings: A Dark-Fictional Piece, Contains Eventual Non-Con Elements. (18+)  

Characters: (Dark!) Steve Rogers, Reader.  

Summary: (For this Chapter) Steve and the Reader meet for the first time.

Synopsis: Steve begins an unhealthy obsession over the reader, whom he meets at a bookstore. With times comes an unhealthy relationship which sprouts into complete madness. 

Note: Hi guys, this is a pretty bland chapter only because I wanted to set the plot, characters and overall tone of the story up. This is my first time at a dark! fic (and writing for Marvel) so please leave suggestions and notes. There are no warnings for this chapter except for a glimpse of Steve’s attitude towards the reader? Though I doubt that this counts as a warning. The second chapter will be uploaded on 9/23. I hope you enjoy!

-------

You honestly couldn’t remember a time where Steve wasn’t somehow intertwined in your life

It had started off small, a rare fleeting glimpse of him in the crowded city of New York. A small mention of his name when you made your way to the nearest café.  A brief praise of him when you turned on the news for the day. Really, everywhere you went Steve Rogers lingered around you. You never did seem to mind, after all the man did save the world only hundreds of times, it seemed only right for the media to praise him.  

Despite forever being surrounded by his impact, you never did grow tired of him.  

He was humble enough and was always sweet when he was approached, never showing a hint of irritation when all he had wanted was to take a stroll around the city he had come to love. He was unwavering in his diligence to his people. But he had always had a soft spot for quiet secluded places where people never quite lingered.  

So, it never came as a surprise when Steve Rogers had first made his appearance into your tiny, family owned library on the corner of Bleeker Street.  

He was wearing nothing out of the usual when he had arrived for the first time. A plain blue jacket, a plain white T-Shirt, and a pair of black shoes. The only thing that led you to do a double take, was the simple basketball cap that did little to hide his face.  

It was a horrible disguise, if it could even be called that. But then again, it was a Sunday morning, so was there anything for him to be hiding from.  

You watched as he made his way around the library, carefully taking everything in. He walked slow and calculatingly as he examined shelf after shelf, stopping sparingly to examine books that he found mildly intriguing.

Catching yourself staring, you took a small step back, deciding to leave him be. He probably had enough people staring at him on the regular, and you didn’t want to be labeled as weird by him.  

You turned your head back to your computer and focused on the new shipment of books that needed to be delivered to your library soon enough. Your favorite author had just released a new installment of books to her series, and you wanted to be the first library to get them.  

You huffed in annoyance, rapidly clicking the keyboard keys as you typed in your confirmation code. Skimming over the information, you squinted your eyes as you looked for a confirmed delivery date, frowning slightly when you see that there hadn't been an updated delivery date yet. It appears you were going to have to wait the extra two weeks.  

You tapped your fingers on your desk as you pondered what you were going to do, your whole schedule had been around the release of her books. Your mind ran rampant as you thought of other books to advertise, but nothing came up.

You were so wrapped up in your thoughts that you had barely registered the soft ‘ahem’ behind you. Turning around quickly you stumbled on your feet. Grasping the edges of the desk, you steady yourself, finally facing the customer.

You were met with an amused Steve Rogers. He was slightly bewildered at your clumsy state, yet his eyes held no judgement in them.  

You gaped at him, your mind not fully coming to terms that this man is right in front of you. You'll scold yourself for that later, embarrassed that you had made such a big deal out of it. You were supposed to act natural, not be a clumsy, blubbering mess.  

However, he seems to not be put off in the slightest, no doubt use to it. Instead of paying your shock any mind, he sets his books down on the desk, and smiles.  

“Just this, if you don’t mind, please.”

You immediately snap out of your trance and shake your head ‘yes’. Ringing up his books, you scan the barcode smiling when you see the titles. They’re simple books, but they delve into deep topics. One is about LGBT liberation, another on Civil Rights and one on Global Warming.  

You can’t help but to lightly shake your head in adoration, raising your head to him, you see that he is already starting intently as you; almost as if he’s inspecting your reaction. His gaze is sharp and unwavering, but when he sees your reaction, he can't help but to blush, raising his hand to scratch lightly at his head.  

“I just thought I’d brush up on some things. It’s never to let to get educated on some issues, right?” Steve says softly, as if he’d ruin the quiet atmosphere. You giggle and shake your head, “No, not at all. I completely understand.” You reach for a brown paper bag to place his things in, now aware that he’s staring pointedly at you. He reaches for his wallet, pulling it out and digging for a couple of bills, “How much do I owe you Miss?” You stop momentarily, looking at the screen, and then back at him again. You shake your head and smile warmly at him.  

“It’s on the house. It’s the least I can do since you.... you know’ save the world n’ all.”

The grin on his face gets wider, and the tips of his ears flash red. He shakes his head a little and gently pulls his bottom lip into his teeth.  

“Thank you for that. I’ll be sure to remember that.”

You roll your eyes playfully in response, turning your head to the computer to void his transaction.  

Steve’s stare widens, and he finds himself clenching his fist in order to calm down. He didn’t like that. You, rolling your eyes that is. It sent all the wrong messages to him. He tries to desperately shake the negative thoughts out of his head.  

She didn’t mean it. It’s not like that. Just breathe in and out. That’s it...relax Steve.  

He’s back to normal the moment you turn around, broadcasting his dazzling smile, his hands still clenched tightly next to him; as if to remind himself to remain calm.  

You gingerly slide the brown bag across the desk towards him, slowly looking up at him.  

“And there you go. You’re all set.”  

Steve grabs the bag and swings it over his shoulder beaming at you. Nodding his thanks, he makes his way to leave. Opening the old, dingy door, he makes his way out into the quiet street, but not before turning to look back at you.  

And if you hadn’t already turned your back already, you would have seen his eyes stare intently at you before he makes his journey back to the tower.  

-----

1,271 Words. I know this chapter is short, but I wanted to establish the setting and all of that. I hope you guys enjoyed! The next chapter will be longer, and I think you guys would like it! Thank you 😊.  

[nicolewrites]

heartstrings - i

hurray for writing motivation and late nights and realizing that this thing that started as a one-shot is entirely too long for that. so it’s a multichapter fic now though it’ll probably be max 3 parts.

Rating: T Genre: Romance Characters: [Vax’ildan and Keyleth] [Percival de Rolo and Vex’ahlia] Words: 6,979

Kiki @keylethashari has tagged you in a tweet: New Q&A up and we’re talking music! creds to @vexmachina @vaxmachina @burtreynoldsesq @thelumineers and others!! // CR1 Vaxleth+Perc’ahlia YouTuber/Musician/Celebrity AU

AO3

Vax had played guitar since he was seven years old. He had sung along back then too, his voice wavering at his young age while his sister’s voice drifted along clearly overtop. Through his whole life, music had stabilized him and had bound him so tightly to his sister that he did almost anything she asked.

In the end, it was Vax’s close friend Gilmore who insisted that the twins make a YouTube channel even if they just uploaded one video in the end. Vex was all for it, but she liked the spotlight. Vax hesitated, but, Vex and Gilmore were his favourite people, so when they ganged up on him, he caved.

Vex argued that they should use their names, Vex’ahlia and Vax’ildan, as the channel name, but it felt too personal, so Vax looked again to Gilmore. Gilmore suggested a play on words and the twins considered it. Three days later, Vax shook his sister awake with the name they would eagerly assign to the channel as they uploaded their first video.

They went simple for the first cover, choosing an Ed Sheeran song that basically broke the music industry. They sat side by side on Vex’s bed and Vax spent most of the video singing while staring at his hands as he played the guitar. Vex floated through the tune, smiling at the camera and her brother.

It took them a while to get the footage cut and to a reasonable sound quality, but as of March 3rd, Vox Machina’s YouTube channel went live with a single video: Thinking Out Loud.

Vex was quick to share it to her Twitter and Instagram, and Gilmore retweeted her tweet, and between them, they got a few hundred views and about 10 subscribers off of one single video.

Vax agreed to film another video when he saw how happy it was making his sister. He fiddled with chords and eventually they settled on a cover of Landslide that made them both happy. Vax let Vex sing while he played and just harmonized where it was appropriate.

This video got a few more views and the subscriber count on the channel jumped to around 200. Vex was giddy and dragged her keyboard in front of the camera and filmed one of her own covers. Vax was content with this as he headed off to work at the café he worked at.

After about a week, he found himself in front of the camera again as Vex insisted the duo act was more popular. Vax agreed on the condition that he picked the song and they did a stripped down version of House of the Rising Sun. This time, Vex pushed him into the lead and Vax sang, but he still restricted the amount of time he actually looked into the camera.

A few more months flicked by and the twins worked hard at their day jobs to support their tiny, crappy apartment. Any time not spent at work was spent practicing music, filming, and editing to make more music. It was a tough life, but the consistent presence of music made both Vex and Vax a lot happier than they had been in a long while.

Eventually, they had fifteen covers uploaded and around 300 subscribers, most of whom came from friends or people following Vex’ahlia and Gilmore on Twitter.

It’s a hot summer night when Vax couldn’t sleep and he rolled over to check the time. His screen was so clogged with notifications that it took him almost a full minute to process that something was happening. It was all notifications for his Twitter page and requests to follow his Instagram account.

Vax pulled his phone closer to his face and blinked at the screen in shock. He opened Twitter. He had almost 8 thousand followers compared to the 50 ish he had had the previous night. His notifications were clogged with people tagging both him and Vex in tweets sharing links to their videos, making song requests, and just generally complimenting them.

Vax’s brain short-circuited and he quit the Twitter app quickly. He had 17 unread texts and over 300 Instagram notifications. He ignored Instagram and opened the text app. A few were from work friends or mutual acquaintances that were questioning his sudden popularity explosion, but 9 of the messages were from Gilmore.

Vax scrolled through Gilmore’s messages to the first unread one and saw it’s a link to a YouTube video. He pressed it and was taken to the YouTube channel of one Scanlan Shorthalt, one of the biggest YouTube musicians on the platform. Vax knew that Scanlan released a video each month discussing good YouTube musicians that he’d found on the platform.

Vax skimmed quickly through the video before a clip of him and Vex appeared on the screen. They were currently ranked number one to watch for YouTube talent by Scanlan who praised their range and musicality despite low production costs.

Vax fumbled through his apps and pulled up Twitter again, doing a quick search for Scanlan Shorthalt. Scanlan’s page came up, and the words “follows you” stared Vax in the face.

He heard a shriek from down the hall and he realized that Vex must have just discovered the same thing he had. He rolled off his bed, phone in hand, and made it halfway to her room before she burst out of it, brandishing her phone in his face.

“We were number one of Burt Reynold’s Star Search!” she basically screeched. “We have seven thousand subscribers on YouTube and I’ve got twelve thousand Twitter followers.”

“I guess we should probably thank Mr. Shorthalt,” Vax muttered. “For the publicity.”

Vex’s eyes widened and she opened her Twitter app quickly.

Vex’ahlia @vexmachina • Just Now

Thank you from @vaxmachina and I to @burtreynoldsesq for the feature on Star Search! New music coming soon!! #voxmachina

Vax raised an eyebrow and his sister smirked. “I guess we’ve got a big thing going for us, brother dearest.”

Vax’s phone chimed in his hand as his notifications blew up from Vex’s tweet. “I guess so,” he mumbled.

-

Their popularity didn’t, to his surprise, taper off shortly after Scanlan’s video. Instead, their subscriber count climbed to 40 thousand and they had nearly 70 thousand Twitter followers between the two of them.

Gilmore took them out for drinks to celebrate the release of their next cover, Everything Has Changed, and Vax knew he hadn’t seen Vex this excited about anything in a long, long time. Gilmore tweeted a photo of the three of them, Kima, and Allura, two other friends, at a bar and immediately blew up on Twitter.

Kima found the whole thing hilarious and pushed the twins up to the karaoke machine the bar had. Neither twin was one to back down from a challenge and Gilmore tweeted out 4 videos of them singing while Allura recorded the whole thing for a future video.

Vax continued to allow Vex to drag him to her room to record music and he started to love the process of making the videos and picking the songs as much as he used to love just playing casually. Their popularity grew slowly and Scanlan featured them on his Star Search again the next month.

The internet seemed to have realized that Vax wasn’t a social media person because he only followed his sister, Gilmore, Kima, Allura, and a handful of others and hardly ever tweeted or posted. He would share the link to a new video when they posted, but not much else. He hovered around 30 thousand Twitter followers which was still completely insane.

Vex, on the other hand, easily cracked 100 thousand followers on her own as she promoted the channel, interacted with their fans, and teased new music and their personal lives. Vax was content to let Vex handle all the personal questions and he only really responded to tagged tweets when people got confused and named them as a couple instead of twin siblings.

Their growth was pretty steady and they could usually predict when their channel would hit the big milestones. They released 3 extra videos in honour of fifty thousand followers and were preparing a Q&A video for 100 thousand followers.

One day in October, Vex was sitting in the main part of the café where Vax worked part-time. He was wiping a counter nearby when he glanced over at her and she was staring slack-jawed at her phone. He stepped to her side quickly and she turned the screen towards him.

Their channel, which had previously been hovering around 89 thousand subscribers, had jumped almost straight to 150 thousand subscribers. Vax froze and swiped at the page to refresh it. The number increased to 180 thousand subscribers. He exchanged a shocked look with Vex.

“What the fuck just happened?”

Vex shook her head mutely and they both resumed staring at her screen until she got a Twitter notification.

Kiki @keylethashari has tagged you in a tweet: New Q&A up and we’re talking music! creds to @vexmachina @vaxmachina @burtreynoldsesq @thelumineers and others!!

Vex clicked on the notification and her phone jumped apps to Twitter. Vax hadn’t the slightest clue who this Kiki was, but the tweet was almost brand new and already had over a thousand likes and over 300 retweets.

Vex glanced at her brother. “Do you know who Keyleth is?” Her voice was giddy with excitement.

“Haven’t a clue,” he replied honestly.

Vex smacked him. “She’s one of the most popular vloggers on YouTube and the best part is, she’s actually really nice.”

Vex turned back to her phone and pulled up Keyleth’s Twitter page. Keyleth had 1.5 million followers and was following around a thousand accounts. Vax glanced briefly at the tiny bubbled icon and felt his heart skip a beat. Keyleth had fiery red hair, vibrant eyes, and freckle-covered skin.

She was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen.

His phone vibrated in his pocket and he heard a heavy cough from behind the counter. His coworker was giving him an odd look. Vax flashed an apologetic smile and hurried back to the counter.

“Big news or something?” his co-worker asked. “Usually you and Vex can at least wait until after your shift to chat.”

Vax shrugged. “Got shouted out by a major YouTuber and may have accidentally jumped to fame, but we’ll see.”

He turned back to the espresso bar before he saw his co-worker's reaction.

-

Three hours later, Vax was staring at his Twitter feed. He had retweeted Keyleth’s tweet, as had Vex, and the vlogger’s response had been to follow both of them on the platform which had only increased the influx of followers he was gaining.

Vex had tweeted a sweet message out a while ago, and Vax was still dumbstruck. Vex was currently in the process of skimming through their channel’s email, looking at a couple of offers from producers which had appeared suddenly.

Swallowing tensely, Vax clicked on Keyleth’s profile and then clicked on the little mail icon, leading him to her DM inbox.

@vaxmachina: hey, i really don’t know what to say besides thank you for all the crazy publicity we’ve been getting. it means a lot to my sister and i.

He hit send before he could think better of it. He dropped his phone onto the couch beside him and looked over at Vex. She was scrolling through stuff on her laptop and looked up when she felt his gaze.

“We should write our own stuff,” Vex said as soon as they made eye contact.

Vax raised an eyebrow. “No more covers?”

Vex waved at him dismissively. “Fewer covers. Come on, I know we’ve both been writing lyrics for so long. We have all these offers of people who want to work with us, we have over 100 thousand YouTube subscribers out of nowhere, and we have a chance to get out of this dump.”

Vax smiled. “When we moved out to LA after mom died we found this dump, Sister, it’s been good to us.”

Vex returned his grin. “And now we can both quit our shitty day jobs and do what we’ve been meant to do all this time.”

Vax’s phone chimed before he could reply.

@keylethashari: Oh but of course! You guys have such a unique sound and range and I’ve loved everything I’ve heard since I found you through Scanlan.

@keylethashari: I’m eagerly awaiting new content from you guys too!!

Vax blinked at the quick reply and easy positivity from Keyleth that he’d received.

“Hello? Brother? Are you still there?” Vex demanded. Vax snapped his head up and she tipped hers, questioning, in response.

Vax waved his phone. “I DMed Keyleth to thank her and she’s awaiting new music, apparently.”

Vex gave an airy laugh. “This is crazy. Absolutely crazy.”

-

As it turns out, crazy had been an understatement. Keyleth’s video continued to provide them with fame, and Scanlan shouted them out for the third month in a row. Still, as it turned out, they weren’t the only big YouTubers taking note of Vox Machina.

“Vax,” Vex called from across the room.

Vax spun in his desk chair, looking away from the monitor where he had been editing their latest video, raising an eyebrow at Vex. “What?”

She waved her phone at him. “Check Twitter, you goof. We’ve gotten another big shoutout and I bet you know who these folks are better than I do.”

Vax blinked, but Vex turns away, back to the keyboard she had been playing a moment before. Vax minimized the video editor and pulled up Twitter. He had a bunch of new followers and a couple of new tags, but a quick search through Vex’s page gave him what he was looking for.

Pike @thetrickfootp • 1 hour ago

It’s that time again! Time for @barbariangrog and I to roast @burtreynoldsesq but at least he’s given us @vexmachina and @vaxmachina this time. youtube.com/watch?v=fTgqwhK

The tweet was fairly recent and Vex was right, he did know who it was from. Pike Trickfoot was a variety YouTuber who did a lot of gaming streams and videos along with the occasional vlog and workout video. Her channel, Major Monstahs, was a collab with her and her best friend Grog Strongjaw. One of their most notorious video series was the monthly roast video that they published to make fun of Scanlan, who was also a very good friend of theirs.

Vax clicked the link in the tweet and it brought him to the newest video on Major Monstahs. The video, titled September 2018, Scanlan FINALLY hits something good, started and Vax saw Pike and Grog sitting together on a couch, with a view of their TV edited over top of their lower bodies as they watched some of Scanlan’s more recent videos.

Pike and Grog were playful and teasing as they roasted Scanlan while also throwing the occasional backhanded compliment. He skimmed through it quickly and played it again as soon as he realized they were reviewing Star Search for the month.

“And well, the one thing Scanlan actually did that was good, was introduce me to Vox Machina! Man, their sound is so nice and they sound great together. Even Grog, who’s more of a heavy rock kind of guy likes them,” Pike said as she gestured animatedly.

Vax chuckled and paused the video. It had over 18,000 views and the channel has 2.3 million subscribers. Two clicks later and Vax was looking at the homepage for Vox Machina’s channel. They had 260 thousand subscribers now and the channel was looking better than ever.

Gilmore had taken some pretty professional shots of Vex and Vax posing so they finally had a good icon, and Allura had created a neat looking text banner for them that served as the channel background. They had invested in a better camera and a real microphone along with a better video editing software so even the videos were of a higher quality.

With all of their new equipment and the sudden burst of fame, both Vex and Vax had quit their part-time jobs and were in the process of packing all of their stuff to move to a better apartment in the better part of town. Their lives had completely turned around, and as Vax listened to Vex start to sing over by the piano, he didn’t regret any of it.

They had stuck to releasing covers on the channel so far, but they were working on more original stuff. Vex was polishing the instrumentals for a pair of songs she had written, and Vax was working on lyrics for a piece he was writing.

His phone chimed and he lifted it.

@keylethashari: hmmm, i like that verse a lot but maybe something about where you guys started. You were trying to be grounded, right?

Vax smiled when he saw the message. Since the first time Keyleth had tweeted at him and he had DMed her, they had been keeping a steady conversation over Twitter and had become decent friends. Vax has sent her a couple of lines of lyrics and asked for her opinion, and she was, naturally, teeming with useful advice. He quickly typed out his reply.

@vaxmachina: that’s pretty good! hm now I have an idea, thanks Kiki

It was only a minute before she replied.

@keylethashari: no prob!!

@keylethashari: also hey I saw the Monstahs shouted you guys out during their roast! That’s awesome!! :)

@vaxmachina: :) yeah, pretty cool

Vax placed his phone down and looked back at the editing he had been working on. Struck by a different sense of inspiration, he saved and jumped up from his desk, heading towards his room.

Though most everything was packed away in boxes, the guitar was leaning against the bedside table as it always was. He grabbed it and sat on the edge of his bed. He plucked a couple strings before moving into a C-F-A-G chord progression warm up.

He then played a soft melody and hummed under his breath. He repeated the pattern, changing the root chord and adding an inverted chord in for good measure. He went back to the original chord and let his mind whir.

“One day they’ll tell the story of the girl they left for dead,” he sang gently. Vex’s music stopped abruptly and he heard her walk in the direction of his room. Vax grinned. “Indomitable, unbeatable, unbreakable, she said,” he continued. He paused and strummed an A minor and a C arpeggio.

“She had fire, but he was the fuel,” Vex sang back, slipping through the door and leaning against the far wall. “Those who left them would soon be the fool.”

Vax nodded along with his sister before putting the guitar down. He pulled up his conversation with Keyleth. “From the ashes they arose, starving and broken, you know how it goes.”

Vex clapped excitedly. “Wow that’s really good,” she said. She crossed the room and peered over his shoulder at the phone screen. Her eyebrows shot up and she rested her elbow on the crook of his shoulder. “Advice from the girlfriend?”

Vax shook his shoulders, tossing her off. “Butt out Vex, it’s just a couple DMs. She’s nice.”

Vex rolled her eyes. “Yeah and the last person who you made heart eyes like that at was Gilmore and that was years ago. You like her.”

“Well it doesn’t matter much, does it? She’s a big shot, we’re just on the rise.”

Vex stepped away, pausing to look back at him. “Record her something exclusive,” she suggested. “A snippet or a preview or something. She’d love it.”

Vax looked contemplatively between his sister and his guitar. “I’ll think about it.”

-

He did end up sending Keyleth a small recording of the song that would eventually become Vax’s original song, Phoenix. Naturally, she loved it and had demanded he stop wasting time and finish it so that she could brag about how much she loved it.

The move to their new apartment was finally done and the place was high class. It had originally been far out of their price range, but the real estate agent had apparently seen some of their covers and Vex had charmed him into accepting a much lower price than originally agreed in exchange for some authentic autographs. The building was rich and apparently housed the places belonging to several other celebrities, both internet and from the film or music industries. Vax hadn’t seen anything to back up the rumour, but it was an interesting thought.

There was a coffee shop just around the corner that he liked to frequent: it reminded him just enough of his old job that he felt comfortable enough there to hum and tap out rhythms while he scrawled lyrics or edited videos. They’d recently released a cover of Just Give Me a Reason which, thanks to Keyleth using it in the background of one of her cooking tutorials, had quickly become their most viewed and most beloved videos.

Their Q&A video had become popular enough that they’d made it a monthly tradition and Vax was currently filtering through submitted questions to put together a good panel for variety. He was sorting through a whole slew of questions inquiring about the relationship status of both twins when the bell above the café door chimed. He allowed himself a cursory glance up out of curiosity, but the people he saw had him stop dead.

It was Pike Trickfoot with her blonde hair coiled into two twin buns atop her head and her smile as sunny as ever. At her side was Grog Strongjaw who was laughing loudly at something the third member of their party had said. Scanlan Shorthalt stood between Grog and Pike, smirking proudly.

Vax was frozen in his seat. He knew the three of them were close friends and that they were definitely in a more influencer-influenced area of L.A. now, but in the two weeks they’d been in their new place, he had never seen any of them around the small coffee shop. He found himself unable to tear his gaze from the trio as they approached the counter to order.

By chance, Pike glanced back at Grog and her gaze landed on Vax staring at her from nearby. Her lips parted in shock before curling back into her brilliant, sunny smile. Vax blinked and looked back at his computer, almost praying that she hadn’t recognized him. He stared blankly at the screen in front of him for a long moment before someone cleared their throat next to him.

Pike was standing right next to his table. “Hello, I’m a huge fan of you and your sister,” she said pleasantly. She slid into the seat across from him without asking and beamed at him. “I’m Pike, and you must be Vax, right?”

“Well, I’m definitely not Vex,” Vax replied. He was a little shocked that she was sitting with him, and as such, his brain couldn’t find more words.

“Wow, ever since Scanlan found you guys, I’ve been listening non-stop!” She glanced at the laptop before her. “Working hard, I see.”

Vax shrugged. “At least this type of work is fun.”

Pike laughed. “You should try streaming: all the fun of videos with almost none of the editing pressure.” Vax cracked a grin. Pike was definitely as charming and sweet as her videos made her out to be.

“Pike! You just disappeared on us!” A voice boomed and Vax and Pike both looked up sharply to see the hulking form of Grog above them.

Before anyone could say anything, Scanlan smoothly stepped around Grog and offered Pike a to-go cup with a flourish. “Your coffee, my lady,” he said teasingly.

Pike smiled and accepted the cup. She waved a hand between Grog, Scanlan, and Vax. “Grog, Scanlan, you’ll never believe who this is.”

Grog looked puzzled for a long moment, but recognition flashed on Scanlan’s face immediately. “Ah half of my new favourite music duo!”

“Nice to meet you,” Vax replied carefully.

Scanlan spun and snagged two chairs from the table next to them and dragged them to the table so the four of them were crammed around one small table. “Scanlan Shorthalt, at your service.”

“Vax. But, I guess you already knew that.”

Grog pointed at Vax. “There’s normally two of you.”

Vax smirked. “Vex’ahlia is currently at our apartment.”

Scanlan leaned forward conspiratorially. “So any insight on who you guys are considering signing with? I’ve heard a lot of offers are going your way.”

“I think last we discussed Whitestone Records was our first choice.”

Scanlan nodded sagely. “They’re great. I have an in there, so I can definitely shoot them a message.”

Pike elbowed Scanlan. “Or you know, just invite them tonight!”

Scanlan glanced at Pike. “Pike, you really are a genius.” He looked back at Vax. “My good sir, it would be an honour if you and your sister joined us and our friends tonight at my place. Going to be a small party, but it’s great for networking if you’re going to be into that kind of thing.”

Vax raised an eyebrow. “I should call Vex.”

Pike nodded. “Of course. Well, it was a pleasure to meet you Vax. I hope to see you tonight! Come on boys, let’s roll.” She stood up from the table and gave Vax one last sunny grin before she swept away. Grog and Scanlan both smiled and followed her out, leaving Vax alone with a racing mind.

It took a long moment for his thoughts to slow down enough to be decipherable, but just as he pulled out his phone to call Vex, it pinged with a new Twitter notification.

Pike @thetrickfootp • 48 seconds ago

They really exist, guys! @barbariangrog, @burtreynoldsesq, and I just had the immense pleasure of meeting @vaxmachina in person and now I absolutely must meet @vexmachina tonight! #voxmachinaisreal #voxmachina

Scanlan almost immediately retweeted the message, as did Grog and Vax chuckled. He liked it before replying to it with the side-eye emoji. His notifications dinged several times, but before he could check any of them, his phone buzzed as his sister’s photo filled the screen.

“Vex’ahlia, hello,” he said as he answered her call.

“You met Pike, Grog, and Scanlan?” she demanded, forgoing a greeting.

“I just had the pleasure. I did invite you to join me here today so it’s your loss.”

“Oh fuck off, Vax. What happened?”

Vax paused, thinking about the best way to drop the news on his sister. “What are you doing tonight?”

-

One DM to Scanlan and a twenty minute Uber ride later, the twins arrived at the Shorthalt mansion. The place was spectacular, as expected, and they could hear the music from the road. Vax was suddenly almost nervous. Vex linked her arm with his and tugged him up the driveway.

“Come on brother dearest, we have some socializing to do!”

The bouncer at the door barely even cast them a glance as he waved them inside. Light flashed through the room and people milled about exuberantly. Vax spun as he walked taking in the open foyer, glittering decorations and the dozens of people dancing and singing and talking. Scanlan really didn’t know the meaning of “small party”.

“You made it!”

Vax turned and saw Pike and Grog weaving towards them. Pike was grinning and wearing a sparkly cocktail dress with her hair still in her “fun-buns”. Grog was wearing jeans and a t-shirt, but Vax wouldn’t be surprised if he was wearing that all the time. Vex smiled brilliantly at the pair and pulled Vax forward.

“So this is the famous Pike Trickfoot and Grog Strongjaw, it is an absolute pleasure to meet you both,” Vex greeted, her charm oozing from every word.

Grog laughed and waved his hand at both twins. “See! There are two of you.”

Vex laughed and Pike elbowed Grog. “You must be Vex’ahlia, then.”

“Just Vex is great.”

Vax smiled as Vex wrapped her arm through Pike's as the two women chatted pleasantly. Vax turned an eye to Grog who looked increasingly bored with the small talk. “Hey big guy, is there somewhere I can get a drink around here?”

Grog and Vex both perked up at the same time.

“A drink?” Grog asked.

“Something hard, preferably,” Vex chimed in, a smirk playing at her lips. “We’re going to need some courage for this night.”

“Then let’s go take shots!” Pike cheered. “I know where Scanlan keeps his best liquor. Plus, he’ll never get mad at us for drinking it if we say it was my idea.”

-

Several shots and a lot of hand-shaking later, the party was still in full-swing and Vax was fully buzzed. Vex had disappeared from his side an hour ago, sliding off to work her charms on an attractive guy with stark white hair who looked vaguely familiar. Knowing his sister, he would probably be headed home on his own tonight.

Scanlan, Pike, and Grog had all spoken with him at different times during the night, though the last he’d seen of Grog was him absolutely destroying the competition at a drinking game inside while Pike and Scanlan had disappeared onto the dance floor. Despite Pike’s insistence that the two were just friends, Vax had seen the identical grins they wore as they danced and sang along to the music.

He leaned back against the wall and sipped his drink. Rich people parties were definitely different from what he was used to. Not for the first time, Vax wished they had thought to invite Gilmore along with them. Gilmore was both a better social creature than Vax, but also an excellent networker, especially on behalf of Vox Machina since he was the closest thing the twins had to an agent or manager.

He was just considering slipping out of the party when a blaze of red hair along the side wall caught his attention. For a moment he wondered if it was possible that it could be Keyleth, but he forced himself not to get his hopes up. Most of the people who were at the party had tweeted about it at least once during the night and Keyleth’s Twitter had been notably dead. Still, he peeled himself off of his wall and headed to where he saw the brilliant flash of hair.

He slid between two dancers and ducked under the exuberant flailing arms of another. He twisted to get out of the way of two dashing figures and was rocked back on his heels trying to regain his balance when he stumbled back into someone. Quickly turning, he held his hands up and burst out an apology.

“Sorry!”

His eyes and brain finally caught up with the rest of him as he noticed who he had unceremoniously crashed into. It was a beautiful young woman with flaming red hair and fair skin that was dotted with freckles across her face and shoulders. She was wearing a strapless green cocktail dress that matched her eyes and was staring at him with wide eyes. Vax blinked and his brain short-circuited.

Keyleth was staring at him and he had just bumped into her like an absolute fool.

“Vax?” she asked carefully. The uncertainty in her tone was charming and her voice was as melodic as he recognized it to be from her videos.

“Yeah, and you must be Keyleth,” he replied.

She smiled at him and he swore it was the most beautiful smile he’d ever seen. “Wow, I had no idea you’d be here tonight! It’s amazing to finally meet you!”

Vax was about to offer her a hand in a handshake when she threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly. She was a tiny bit taller than him in her heeled shoes and her waist was slender. Her frame was much more willowy than Vex’s, but it suited her. He hugged her back, unsure of what else to do, and then Keyleth pulled back, still smiling.

She shuffled her feet and bit her lip, a charming blush darting across her cheekbones. “It’s almost weird to see you in person when all I’ve had before was your videos and our Twitter DMs.”

Vax lifted a hand and brushed back some of her fiery hair with a courage that came from God knows where. “You’re even prettier than I’d expected.”

Keyleth’s flush deepened and she stepped out of his personal space. “Thank you,” she said softly. She glanced around the crowded house where people were shouting and dancing. “Do you, by any chance, want to head somewhere quieter? This is all a bit overwhelming for me,” she admitted shyly.

Vax reached down and took her hand. “As long as we still get to hang out, I’m one hundred percent on board with that idea.”

Keyleth smiled brightly again. “Great!” She tugged on his hand and led him towards the front door.

They cut through the kitchen to get there faster, but as they were just about to leave the kitchen, Vax heard his sister’s familiar laugh. He paused, unintentionally pulling Keyleth to a stop, and looked around for his sister.

Vex was standing next to the window, pressed close to the same attractive young man with white hair from earlier. She was obviously flirting with him, and by the smug look on the young man’s face, it was definitely mutual, but Vax saw his sister sway gently and he knew what that meant. Vex was very excellent at pretending she was far soberer than she was, but the moment that swaying was involved, her night was almost over.

“Vax?” Keyleth questioned and he snapped his head back to her. She was looking between his face and their joined hands curiously.

He sighed. He really, really, wanted to get to know Keyleth and to hang out with her, but he needed to check on Vex. Just because she was handling the popularity better, didn’t mean that her mental state could cope with the fame.

“Kiki, I’m afraid I’m going to have to take a raincheck on this early morning adventure. I think my sister needs assistance getting home.” The nickname slipped out before he could stop it and he felt his ears burn gently.

Keyleth glanced past him and noticed Vex and the white-haired stranger. She smiled at him and laughed. “Of course, don’t worry at all. But,” she paused for a moment and disentangled their fingers. “Give me your phone. I’m giving you my number so we can actually reschedule this thing.”

“Hopefully not at two thirty in the morning,” Vax joked as he passed Keyleth his phone.

She giggled. “Maybe not, but if Scanlan invites you guys around again, you never know what could happen. Now, go help your sister, Vax, I’ll see you around.” She leaned forward and kissed his cheek gently and for a brief moment, Vax wanted to abandon Vex and go on whatever adventures that Keyleth could dream up.

But then Keyleth was slipping away from him with one last playful wave and Vax was left in Scanlan’s kitchen with a few strangers, his sister, and his sister’s flirting partner. He sighed and strolled in their direction pointedly.

The white-haired man noticed his approach and inclined his head to meet Vax’s eyes. Vex turned to face him when she noticed that her new friend’s interest had been stolen from her. She smiled sweetly when she saw Vax.

“Brother! Isn’t this a great party?”

Vax shook his head at the obvious drunkenness of his twin. He looked again at the white-haired man. “Vax’ildan, Vex’s brother,” he introduced, holding his hand out.

“Percy,” the man replied, shaking his hand firmly. “You’re the other half of the dynamic Vox Machina then?” To Vax’s surprise, Percy had a British accent, one complementary to the lingering accent his sister held.

Vax nodded, shifting his gaze to his sister as he tried to gauge her level of drunkenness. “Yes, I guess she mentioned that.”

Percy shrugged in response. “Actually, I just recognize you both. I like your music.”

Vax’s eyebrows rose. Vex was notorious for finding easy prey at parties, but this guy actually seemed to be drunk enough to have low inhibitions but was still sharp enough to hold a fast-paced conversation.

“Well, thanks,” Vax replied. “I do need to steal my sister though, I need to get her home before she can’t walk.”

Percy chuckled. “Do you need a hand at all?”

Vax stepped closer to Vex and slid an arm around her waist. “No thanks, this is about normal for us.”

Percy shrugged and stepped away from Vex, giving her a look that Vax recognized carried some attraction. “Well, hopefully our paths can cross again another time.”

Vex laughed. “If you keep smiling at me like that, I don’t think they’re ever going to diverge,” she teased, flashing him a flirtatious smile.

Vax chuckled under his breath as Percy’s ears tinged red and he blinked, caught off guard by Vex’s forwardness. He nudged his sister towards the front door. “It was nice to meet you, Percy,” Vax said before he turned and escorted Vex out of the kitchen.

Vex stumbled along with him, but as they exited the mansion, he noticed she was pouting. “You always have to ruin all my fun, don’t you?”

Vax sighed. “And you always have to throw yourself at the ones who don’t know what to do with you, don’t you?”

Vex laughed loudly. “But he was so pretty and smart, so I really don’t know why you’re complaining about him.”

Vax nudged her towards the road, calling an Uber on his phone. “I’m not complaining about him. He actually seemed like a huge step above your type lately. I’m talking about you and this drinking obsession you’ve developed recently.”

Vex waved him off, stumbling a few steps away. “I’m not even drunk, Vax.”

“Yes, Stubby, you can barely walk, so you are drunk. Very. Just like you’ve been almost every night this week.”

She scowled at him. “Mind your own business.”

The Uber pulled up and Vex marched towards it, purposely not looking back at him. Vax sighed. “I wish I could.”

-

The next week, Vex and Vax had finally decided to meet with the owner of Whitestone Records about potentially signing onto the label. The very thought that the two of them could sign to a major recording label was absolutely mind-blowing and a few months back would have seemed incredibly unlikely.

The twins were in their Uber on the way to the fancy restaurant that Cassandra de Rolo, the owner of the label, had selected as the meeting place. Vex was fidgeting with the hem of her stylish black dress, but she was smiling nonetheless. His phone vibrated in his pocket and he slid it out, his lips twitching into a small smile when he saw the message.

[Keyleth] Good luck with your meeting with Whitestone!! I’ve heard nothing but good things about the label since it moved to LA from London!! You’re gonna kill it!

Since the night of Scanlan’s party, Vax hadn’t found a moment of spare time or confidence to reschedule his night with Keyleth, but they texted every day and he had been sending her snippets of the new song he was working on while she asked him if he had any suggestions for a DIY video she wanted to do.

[Vax] Thanks, Kiki. i’ll let you know how everything ends up.

[Keyleth] of course you will :P

The car pulled up to the restaurant and Vex basically dragged him out of the back as they threw quick ‘thank you’s’ to their driver. Vex raised an eyebrow at the phone he held in his hand as she adjusted the neckline of her dress again.

“Texting your girlfriend?”

Vax rolled his eyes. “She’s no more my girlfriend than Percy is your boyfriend.”

Vex shoved his shoulder. “Rude. I didn’t even manage to get his number or his last name so it’s not like I’ll ever see him again.”

Vax shrugged. “He has white hair, how hard can he be to find?”

“Not hard, apparently,” a familiar voice chimed in. Both twins turned to see another well-dressed pair behind them on the sidewalk. It was the man who had spoken. He had tousled white hair and sharp flint-blue eyes that were strikingly familiar. Vex’s brain put the pieces together faster as she did a double take.

“Percy?”

“Hello, Vex’ahlia, Vax’ildan,” he greeted politely, a smile playing at his lips.

The young woman at his side cleared her throat. “I’m Cassandra de Rolo, the one you’re actually here to meet. You apparently are already well acquainted with my brother, Percival de Rolo.”

Vax’s eyebrows shot up. Everything in his brain clicked as he glanced between the siblings, his brain aligning their similar bone structure and eyes. Cassandra was the owner of the recording label and notably, the younger sister to the actor, Percival de Rolo, who was the very same Percy that Vex’ahlia had flirted with ruthlessly at Scanlan’s party.

Cassandra smirked as she looked between the twins and her brother, all of whom seemed appropriately puzzled. “Let’s go in and talk music, shall we?”

-

Vex left the lunch with Percy’s number saved in her phone and a promise to meet for coffee sometime while Vox Machina left the meeting with a contract to look over about signing on with Whitestone Records.

As they walked along the sidewalk side by side, Vex elbowed Vax. “So if I actually manage to snag Mr. de Rolo despite his famous Hollywood status, does this mean you actually have to call Keyleth, because God knows you want to.”

Vax bumped their shoulders to push her back. “No promises.”

[frauleinsmaria]

The Village Is a Glow (1/2)

A/N: Merry (belated) Christmas to those of you who celebrate! This was written for my @cssecretsanta2k18 giftee, @eastwesthomeisbest , who expressed an interest in modern au’s with a fantastical element. While this was a bit out of my comfort zone where fic is concerned (and ended up being fairly light on the fantasy), I took suggestions from a few friends and came up with this story based on some of her preferences. This was both fun and challenging to write, and I've so enjoyed interacting with you over the past few weeks! Part 2 should hopefully be up and posted by this time next week.

Special thanks to @profdanglaisstuff for beta’ing, @justanotherwannabeclassic and @forestiyari for helping me think of this idea, and @welllpthisishappening for answering my questions about NYC. (Also, please keep in mind that I’m not a native, so there may or may not be a few things I did less research on that should be taken with a grain of salt.)

Summary: Killian Jones credits moving to the Big Apple for getting his photography career off the ground. He also has it to thank for causing his first run-in with Emma Swan, who makes him question every photo he takes afterward. 

AO3

Three years and a handful of questionable experiences had shown Killian that almost anything was possible in New York.

For starters, there were things like the number of naked people you could spot on a normal day in Times Square, a Storm Trooper getting arrested, and a teenage couple making out while standing in a dumpster. And those were all things he’d seen within the first week after his move. Being a photographer had only given him the opportunity to catch things like this on camera and show them to his friends both in the city and back home in London who didn’t quite buy the odd stories he had to tell on any given day.

Despite the regularity of seeing things that made him wish he had issues with his memory, there was so much Killian loved about his now home that made up for it all. He loved the constant energy and excitement that lived within the city, whether that be in the middle of the night or first thing in the morning. The first few weeks after his move, he’d dealt with the jet lag by wandering around at all hours of the night and taking pictures, trying but never fully succeeding to capture the neon lights, hoards of people, and bumper to bumper traffic guaranteed to be found at every corner.

Killian also had to credit the move to New York for getting his freelance photography career off the ground. He’d gotten some attention back in London from friends and colleagues, but it wasn’t until after relocating when he began posting pictures he’d taken around the city that his Instagram account started to receive a considerable amount of attention. He was able to use the site as a way to both market his work and seek out potential clients. Since coming to New York, he’d received offers to shoot everything from weddings and parties to family portraits and sessions for online companies and influencers. He still took a few shifts a month at a local bar to make ends meet, but he was grateful his photography was able to cover most of the costs and requirements that came along with living in New York.

Killian had grown to love almost everything about his new home and tried to encompass as much of it as possible in his photos, but the main focus on his Instagram account over the past year or so had been capturing the lives of mundane New Yorkers like himself on film. Killian had soon learned thanks to comments from his friends back at home that most outsiders saw the city as the home for the rich and famous, and assumed only those that fit one or both of those categories were able to thrive and succeed there. It wasn’t hard to believe that such ideas existed thanks to the typical depictions of New Yorkers in fiction and the media. But, from his experience, the majority were just common people trying to make a life in the city that never slept.

And, yes, many of these people and the pictures he took of them were a little on the unusual side. But he’d never taken a photo that made him question his own sanity, until he met her.

It started on a Tuesday morning. Despite having the ability to create his own work schedule most of the time, he preferred getting out early a few times a week to take photos and observe the city as the work rush began. He’d been walking around with his camera for an hour or so around Tribeca taking snapshots of people and scenes that caught his eye. There was the elderly couple holding hands while waiting at a crosswalk, a young dog walker who looked as if he could barely keep up with his four legged clients, and one he was particularly fond of, a pair of young twins sisters walking their dog in Hudson River Park he couldn’t wait to share after receiving permission from their parents.

It was just after eight-thirty when he decided to wrap things up before he went back to his apartment to edit this morning’s photos and make a call to a client who he was scheduled to do an engagement shoot for that weekend. He wasn’t far from a nearby cafe when he spotted a distinct golden glow coming up from the side of a building. It was probably just the way the early morning sun was reflecting, but it caught his attention enough that he considered it worth documenting for himself if nothing else.

After taking a handful of photos, he was scrolling through the media library on his camera while still walking (something he should have known better than to do in the first place) when he felt himself slam into something just as he was passing the building in the picture.

“Oh!”

Whoops. Not something, a person. The first things he saw were blonde curls and a pair of bright green eyes that didn’t look nearly as angry with him as they should.

“Bloody hell,” he cursed under his breath. “I’m terribly sorry, love. Are you alright?”

“Well, I’m definitely awake now,” she laughed. Killian was grateful she didn’t look ready to strangle him, which seemed fair considering the circumstances. “Just maybe be careful what you do with that thing while you’re walking,” she added, nodding toward his camera. She had to either be a saint or in an exceptionally good mood.

He shoved his camera back inside the bag on his shoulder. “You’re right. I apologize again. Can I buy you a coffee to make up for it?”

“Emma Swan. Make it hot chocolate instead and you’re forgiven.”

He liked this woman already. “Killian Jones. And I believe I can swing that.”

Killian opted for taking her to the nearby cafe he often visited since he knew they served hot chocolate, as well as his own preferred Americano. It was a short walk from where they were now.

“This is neat,” she said when they arrived and she followed him inside. He had stumbled across Gotan in Tribeca not long after his move to the city, and often dropped in at least once a week to drink coffee while he edited photos or answered client calls. The modern, eclectic feel of the place made it enjoyable for working, and hopefully enjoyable for sharing a hot drink with the stranger he’d just inconvenienced.

There surprisingly wasn’t a crowd considering what time of day it was, so they were able to quickly order their drinks. Emma picked out a table near one of the large windows, wanting to sit by the sunlight.

“Tell me something about yourself, Swan. Do you live in the city?”

She nodded. “As of last weekend, yes. I’ve bounced around different areas on the East coast for awhile now, but it was time for a change, and my friend had an extra room in her apartment. So, here we are. What about you?” she asked. “Although the accent kind of gives your roots away.”

“Afraid so.” As the barista approached the table with their drinks, he briefly explained his childhood and life in London and why he’d chosen to move to the city. “There wasn’t much rhyme or reason behind it. I also wanted a change, and to do something with my photography. New York seemed to be the best option. I’ve been here almost three years now; it’s worked out well, at least by my standards.”

“I hope some of your luck is contagious then.” Emma took a sip of her hot chocolate and gave what he hoped was a satisfied smile. He saw then that she’d gotten whipped cream on the corner of her mouth and tried not to laugh, instead handing her a napkin from the stack on the table. “You’ve got a little something there, love.”

She laughed when she caught her own reflection in the window and wiped the mess away. He liked hearing her laugh. Actually, he liked quite a few things about her, he soon realized as they spent the next half hour discussing everything from rom coms to the best restaurants in New York.

“You’re the first guy I’ve ever met who’s willingly admitted to liking Mean Girls.”

Killian shrugged. “I suppose you could say I’ve been personally victimized by Regina George, love.”

It was a bit of a disappointment when she announced she had to leave. “Job interview,” she explained.

“In that case, I hope some of my luck you mentioned earlier is contagious too.” Killian considered asking for her number but decided against it; it seemed too forward and there was a good chance she wouldn’t be up for sharing personal details with someone who was still virtually a stranger in many ways. “Perhaps I’ll be lucky enough to run into you again in the future? Although I’ll try not to make it literally next time.”

“Thanks. And I appreciate the consideration.” She smiled and disappeared around the corner a moment later. Despite being in a city with millions of people, a small part of him couldn’t help but hope he hadn’t seen the last of her.

He spent most of the afternoon uploading the morning’s pictures onto his laptop to see which ones were worth holding onto. Most of them turned out well, aside from a few that were out of focus and one unintentional shot of the sidewalk he’d taken while trying to avoid being hit by a pigeon. The few that stood out the most, though, were the handful he’d snapped of the sun coming around the side of the building where he’d come across Emma Swan. They weren’t particularly great in comparison to some of the others he’d taken earlier, but what he hadn’t seen before was a strange golden glow that seemed to cover the scene like a filter. He must have hit something on his camera that changed the color settings when he and Emma collided. That was the only reasonable explanation.

Even though it was unlike the others and wasn’t his normal style, it was the one he posted on Instagram first after making a few minimal edits.

Kjones87: I’d call it a successful day.

If he noticed the number of likes and comments were higher than on any other photo he’d uploaded recently, he chalked it up to coincidence, or maybe what Emma Swan thought was his good luck.

The scheduled engagement photoshoot plus a local business event he’d been asked to photograph at the last minute kept him busy enough that he wasn’t given a chance to repeat his habit of wandering around the city with his camera until the following week. It was Wednesday when he found himself exploring Tribeca again. He liked the area, and it was close enough to his apartment that avoiding public transportation was typically an option.

His routine followed the same pattern it normally did, simply walking around to take random snapshots of people or things that caught his eye, until two women holding hands approached him at City Hall Park.

“Hi,” said the taller of the two brunettes, wearing a bright shade of red lipstick that matched the streaks in her dark hair. “I really hope I won’t bother you by asking, but is there any way you’d be willing to take a picture of my girlfriend and me?” she asked, holding up her phone and squeezing said girlfriend’s hand, a shorter woman with dark curls and a stack of books sticking out of the bag on her shoulder. “If you don’t have time or you’d rather not that’s totally fine, we just saw you taking pictures and figured you would know what you were doing better than someone else.”

Flattered by the unexpected request, Killian reached for the woman’s phone and then paused, thinking of a better idea. It wasn’t something he would normally suggest in similar circumstances, but they seemed like a sweet couple and why waste the opportunity to do something nice for them? “I can do you one better. Suppose I take several shots of you two on my camera and just email you the final results?”

“Seriously?” the shorter brunette asked. “How much do you charge for doing something like that?”

“No charge. I mean it,” he continued when they both attempted to protest. “I would probably consider posting one or two pictures on my Instagram, with your permission of course.”

Killian spent the better part of an hour following the couple around the park and taking various pictures of them holding hands and embracing in the different picturesque locations. He found out their names were Ruby and Belle, and they had come to the city from Boston for a few days to celebrate their second anniversary.

“Are you sure we can’t pay you?” Belle asked for the umpteenth time when they were preparing to leave. “I mean, we’ve probably taken up a good part of your day.”

“I was glad to do it,” he insisted. “I hope you enjoy the rest of your trip.” He got both of the women’s contact information and watched as they left the park hand in hand.

He was just walking away when he heard a vaguely familiar voice. “I hope that camera hasn’t caused any run-ins today.”

Killian turned and saw Emma Swan walking toward him, clutching a well-read paperback he couldn’t make out the tile of and a steaming cup of what he assumed was hot chocolate. “Ah, hello, Swan. And, no, I am pleased to report that I’ve succeeded in being aware of my surroundings since our meeting last week.”

“Good to know. Otherwise you’d probably go broke buying hot chocolates for every girl you ran in to in New York.”

“Aye. I’d rather save those for you anyway. I’d offer to buy you another if you hadn’t already beat me to it,” he said, gesturing to her cup, feeling both amused and reluctant.

She shrugged. “Maybe. But it’s almost lunchtime, and I never say no to a grilled cheese.”

He’d be an idiot to turn her down.

Emma chose the place this time, a small diner called Granny’s located a few blocks away. “My roommate got me hooked on this place,” she told him when they walked in and took a booth near the back of the restaurant. As expected, she ordered a grilled cheese with a side of onion rings, and a second hot cocoa topped with whipped cream and cinnamon. “Just because I can,” she explained when he raised an eyebrow at her odd selection. (She laughed when he caved and ordered the exact same thing.)

Killian learned quite a bit about Emma Swan during the hour they spent sharing greasy food and random tidbits of information. She shared that she’d recently been hired at a local bookstore, hence the interview she’d been headed to after their first encounter, had a liking for eighties teen movies, and usually found herself on Amazon Prime when she couldn’t sleep, leading to receiving a number of random items in the mail that she never quite remembered ordering. She asked a question about his photography, which led to him explaining what he did as a freelancer, as well as his occasional work at the bar.

He had just pulled out his phone to show her his Instagram page (which he realized later probably would have looked like gloating) when she had to leave for her shift at the bookstore. “I have a feeling you’ll see me again,” she said, almost as if she knew something he didn’t.

“I have a feeling you’re right.”

He spent the better part of his afternoon editing the photos of Ruby and Belle in the park earlier that day. When he got to the last of them, it was impossible not to notice the golden glow over the couple in the final picture he’d taken of them kissing in front of the fountain in the park.

The last picture he’d taken before meeting Emma.

Just like the last picture he’d taken the week before...right before meeting Emma.

There was a reasonable explanation behind all of this. There had to be. He just had no clue what said explanation was.

One thing was for sure, he needed to see Emma Swan again.

[mocacheezy]

Wanted to make a seperate post for this, because this stuff will go under a readmore. (damn it got long)

Added my two cents on this post, but here is what I do when I do have the energy leave comments on fics (and some extra thoughts on my kudoses):

Comments

There is such delight when I find a fic that I have to write my thoughts down while reading, because I love to scream my joy @ the author in the comment once I am done with the chapter/fic itself.

And hopefully by the time I reach the end of the chapter I can calm down enough to actually write something coherent aside from screaming and keysmashing.

Some fics get me that excited!

Some fics I had to put down while reading, so I could pace around the room, because the possibilities for where the situation could go are ENDLESS!

Some fics I've put down and picked up MONTHS later, because a chapter was just so good and made me feel SO MUCH, I was unable to read further!

There are fics I forgot about and returned to years later and was DELIGHTED to see them finished or still going (there was this one back on fanfiction.net that I adored with all my heart, and I plan on checking out what happened to it. The author went on a break around the time another fandom took my attention, but the fic was so good I still remember it from time to time. It made my life more than just bearable, it made me laugh to tears at some points. )

When a fic gets me that excited, I noticed I tend to either comment short excited comments before nyooming to the next chapter, or read all of it over a course of a couple of days, gather my thoughts and leave an almost essay long comment, because the whole fic was just so good and I want to say it all in one place!

There were a couple of fics that I actually WANTED to write essays on, because I appreciate the authors writting style so so so much! For some I still do, because holy hell, the writing and characterization is great, while ALSO gives us things canon/source material didn't explore. But, if I do that, I wanna do it good because KUDOS TO THE WRITERS!

There are also fics that have me grinning and commenting on what's happening outloud, but there isn't really that many questions popping up for me.

It's the delighted gasp and a "Bitch, you said WHAT? 8D".

It's the "Ohohohooooo this is going to h u r t".

It's the grimace or a snort of "You fucking bastard, I knew he was planning something."

With fics like that, I can sit still or do something that isn't too demanding attention wise.

It's relaxing. It's nice, it let's my usually very active and overwhelmed brain rest, WHILE ALSO giving me serotonin and the excitement/feels, but on a smaller scale.

With fics like this (especially one shots), I tend to leave shorter comments, because if I want to comment, but don' t have much to say, I'll still comment and tell what the fic made me feel.

"I liked/loved/really enjoyed this fic, it had me experience x"

Because I do like it! And so far almost every fic I read gets atleast one kudos because this stuff is so good and the authors are amazing.

I just don't have much to say at that moment. Or what I want to comment is missing something and feels too flat to me.

If I know I'll want to reread a fic, I usually bookmark it and write down some highlights/what I liked about it/make a comment of its own in the bookmark! Because looking at older bookmarks/bookmarks from a fandom you are no longer involved with can bring back quite the laughter... AND get you back into the fandom even!

Reading fics is supposed to be a thing you enjoy. If you are starting to dread it because you feel obligated to say something, hey.

Take a step back for a while. This kind of fear happened to me at some point when I was younger, especially when I started interacting with active content creators. They appreciate comments and those comments help so much when an obstacle presents itself and it seems like abandoning a story will be it. Comments and encouragment bring back the fire and joy of writing.

There is a comment I have yet to reply to, that's been sitting in my Ao3 inbox for 160 days (ALMOST 6 MONTHS, MOCA, GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER AND REPLY ALREADY!).

It's from an author who really wasn't feeling motivated and the comment brought them such joy and excitement!

Why is it taking me so long to reply?

I never expect/wait for a reply from authors. ESPECIALLY not if it's a fic that's older (there are some amazing fics that were posted in 2013!!! Who knows if the author is still active in the fandom!*), or if it's an ongoing one that gets alot of comments. In the second case, it's because the author is already writing the fic, editing said fic and uploading it, could also be working on a bunch of different fics (because writting inspiration strikes at the weirdest of moments and as someone who has around 4fic ideas happening simultaniously, people who ACTUALLY WRITE THEM? Kudos. You are amazing.), not to mention most fic authors do this in their free time. So there's also their jobs, social circle outside the internet, on the internet and the amount of energy they have for social interaction with strangers online. Who am I to expect a reply to that behemot of a comment I left on their fic? If it made them happy, great! If it made them go "woah, that's alot of words" *shrugs*, eh. I am a rambler, it's what I do, if they like it they like it, if they don't they don't. Not much i can do about that, though I did leave a note on my ao3 profile that they can contact me if long comments/ramblings annoy them, so I can stay off their comment section and scream about my love for their works somewhere else. Noone has asked me to stop as of yet, but I like to offer just in case.

Most of my comments are actually posted as if I was at cafe or a restaurant, and was offered the Book of Complaints, Suggestions and Compliments/Thanks.

Complaints? I don't have complaints to leave, because it's my decision on what content I consume, and if I don't like it, I can always search for something else.

And if I didn't read the tags? Well, that's on me. That's like ordering a new dish when you have a food allergy, not reading the provided and highlighted allergen notes and warning, and then screaming at the staff when your food arrives. It's not THEIR job to know what kind of allergies their customers have. It's the customers.

Suggestions? Is the author asking for those? If not, no suggestions from me! If they do ask, and I don't have an answer I usually take some time to see if I have anything to offer.

Compliments/Thanks. That is the thing I love and what I click the comment box for. If a fic made me FEEL something, I will let the author know.

Do you know how amazing it is to read a fic and sit staring off into space after you finish it because "woah... that. That made me feel so much at once that I can't even name it." ?

When you read a crackfic, and keep snickering and chuckling, before you finally burst out in laughter or wheezing or snorting with tears in the corners of your eyes because "OH THIS GOLD, I haven't laughed like this in a while!" ?

When you read angst that tugs at your heartstrings and causes actual tears to run down your face and feel the anguish the characters feel?

When you read angst, but the story has a happy ending? Any you get to see the characters claw their way towards it, and actually reach it?

When you read hurt/comfort and there is that gentle care and love and safety that makes your heart melt?

When you read a fic that feels like sitting by a window with a cup of warm coffee while relaxing music plays? (this last one is becoming my favourite of them all and is actually the one I struggle to comment on the most.)

There is such a variety of works out there! So many talented and amazing writers, with their AUs and a billion different ways of writing!

3. I am a very forgetful person, who has to check her inbox more often. Plain and simple. Nothing more to it.

4. Some of these authors write back such lovely comments that make me smile everytime I open my inbox. I think I might make a scrapbook of some sort, to keep track of them, because getting the feedback of "HEY YOUR COMMENT MADE ME HAPPY/EXCITED!" or "I really appreciated this comment, thank you." makes me smile. ^u^

Seriously fic authors are amazing, and this is why "Kudos to them." has become a thing I say irl as well, and in any conversation where someone creating a thing is brought up. I may not know or have a strong opinion on the stuff someone enjoys creating, or have nothing to really say, so "Woah, Kudos to them." is my way of saying "I admire their work (but don't have anything else to say about it)."

Learning it means Glory? Hell yes, those works are worthy of praise,and the authors really are glorious.

So here's where that lovely button comes in.

Kudos

I use the kudos button both when I have a comment to write and when I don't. I spam that button when I like something so much words fail me, and I click it when a fic reads like I have just finished a cup of coffee.

If I use the cafe/restaurant thing I talked about before as an example, leaving a kudos, to me, is like giving a smile or replying to the waiter with "It was great." when they asked if you enjoyed it.

I enjoyed it, but I don't have anything else to say.

Maybe it was just an interesting read, even if not to my usual tastes. It might get a kudos.

And if I read something that I thought I would like but it turned out I didn't like it or I felt meh abput it?

Well, *shrugs* well.

I don't have anything nice to say, and I probably won't read stuff from that author. There are others who will and others who will leave a kudos.

I don't think much about it because I read fics for fun.

I ramble about them because I am having fun and finally know I can share my experience with others.

You guys have probably seen the "Holy shit two cakes!" comic, which was originally about how artists/writers feel bad when creating something with a concept that many other more skilled creators used.

I remember that comic at some point also being used to explain that "It really sucks when you bake a cake, but noone wants to eat it."

I can't speak as a writer, because I don't post the fics I daydream about (yet! I don't post them yet!), but here's a little thing my daydreamer self likes to think.

I baked my cake, and I can eat it too, but I hope the cafe I frequent has something similar too.

Translated?

I wanted to read a fic like this, I made a fic with the idea I wanted, I enjoyed the process and the result, but I sure do hope someone else also makes a similar fic in the future.

I do however mostly daydream my fic ideas. So again. These are just my thoughts on the whole thing that is Comment > Kudos/Like > Reading > Not Reading

[hyunjin-writes]

photographer!kihyun au

i,,, have had a thing for photographer kihyun for like,,,eVer sinCE i started stanning him,,,

and since there’s not much out there fics/aus about photographer kihyun

/rolls sleeve/

ok but photographer!kihyun would be both cool and cute i kid u not

the type to always???? ALWAYS!!!! have his camera by his side; either slung on his arm or in his backpack

there was this one time he forgot to bring his camera along and his friends thought something happened to him or the camera

“is ur camera oKay??????r YOU okay????” “why wouldn’t they be okay and im here aren’t i?”

turns out he just forgot to charge the batteries overnight shdsdsj clumsy

but how much do you wanna bet he can’t sit still without his camera by his side?

“yOo kihYUN sTop FidgEting” “i cant help it!!!!i’m so used to have my camera with me i-”

his camera is basically his wife,, but anyways moving on,

the type to be gone during the weekends to take short trips to the beach or countryside for pictures

“hey kihyun are you free this weekend” “can’t im going to the beach” “hey ki-” “CANT i have to go to the neighbouring city”

but his pictures ended up being to die for so it’s forgiven ;;

his phone wallpapers,,, would mostly b pictures of sceneries he took. Only on rare occasion it would be faces of people,,,, prob mainly bcs it was him who took it.

imagine him putting a picture of minhyuk because he loved the way the pic turned out and minhyuk saw,,,

“omg ki i didn’t know u liked me that much ;”^ )” “i  DONT. the pic just turned out nic-” “AWWW SHUSH I Like Me Too ;););)” “sdhjsdhjskajhskja remind me to not take a pic of u ever again”

“no way u like the way he poses for pics too much to not take pics of him” - prob shownu

“,,,,,, riTe”

its tru tho kihyun is picky when it comes to his pictures, especially potraits and he always complains about how its so hard to take pics of shownu

“shownu u do know you can breathe like normal, right?”

but anyways,

his instagram!!!!

god his instagram would b aesthetically pleasing nd like, low quality-ly hq,,

pics from his trips? pics from his coffee stops? pics of mx hanging out? you got them all!

but like,, what’s hard to see in his feed is probably his selfie since he takes bad selfies according to wonho and minhyuk

“i  DO NOT. take bad selfies” - says kihyun as he poses the same pose for 2938482 selfies with the same angle

sighs

so instead of uploading his selfies, the only pictures that would have his face in it would be the candids the boys took of him

from when he’s drinking coffees, or from when he’s taking pictures,,,

mostly r pics of him taking pictures w his camera since he find himself looking extra cool doing those

but like,,, since most of his pics r candids, u can hardly see his face since it’s always being covered w camera or looking down

also since most pics r from  the boys, u could expect to see minhyuk or wonho annoyingly commenting on his pics

“omg what a cool pic i wonder who took them” “i bet the photographer’s good looking tell him i’m a fan of him!”

“im  Blocking. both of u”

ok but you,,,, you do know kihyun, sort of

that is if u consider being friends with changkyun and hearing changkyun bragging about how good this one photographer friend is then yeah you do know kihyun

you follow him on instagram, but like,,, u never actually met him before??

tho judging on his ig pics he seems attractive but also seems like a snoob?? or a bit cocky?? based on his comments so idk,, u just dont really like those type of guys

but anyways, you’re studying filming major in school so you’re always standing behind the camera or screens instead,

but you’re been told a handful of time that you have enough visuals to be a model,, it DID crossed ur mind but like???me??? a model??? must b mad enough to do  That,  so u didnt

so you’re a close friends with changkyun, and you two are always hanging out when kyun ain’t hanging out w mx

so when you’re out together, it’s always u who takes kyun’s pictures and you’re no photography student, but you could say your pics r decent (since you actually like photography as well,)

changkyun loves!!!! ur pic and he always say that you would bond well with kihyun since the two of you have similar taste

youre like  “naaaaah no thx” and kyun just shrugs bcs like okay then sure no fOrcing u

so u continue to hangout with changkyun with him mentioning about wanting the two of you meeting up but you always refusing

UNTIL 

one day you two were hanging out at the park, just casual and being a bunch of goofs when kyun said some of the mx boys r here and wants to meet up nd if its okay with you

“yeAH??? i mean i would love to meet them anyways especially minhyuk! i heard he’s kinda cool,,”

“yeah but there’s gonna be kihy-” changkyun before his words being interrupted by a hollering minhyuk from afar

you immediately recognize minhyuk based on his jumpy attitude and also wonho who’s following behind a sprinting minhyuk

minhyuk immediately pounced on changkyun and you like,, laughed at how done kyun looked

u suddenly heard some clicker sound beside u and when u turn, ur eyes meet w a pair of very??? beautiful??? eyes???

it took a few seconds but u then realized it was kihyun,, with his camera his hand,, like OF COURSE kihyun would b around taking pics

immediately introducing yourself to the boys, changkyun immediately said, “ah ki hyung, she’s the one who always took my cafe an d ootd pics”

youre like ?? but when u look at kihyun he was like O-o and was saying “yeah i sorta figured?? since u hardly hang out w anyone else anyways” but he wasnt even looking at u or anything,,,

“wow he really /is/ snobby,,,,” was what u thought at first since even after a few mins of hanging out at the park, he still wont meet ur eyes??? even when he’s talking to you or something??? wow   rood.

but like yea you guys hanged out for a while longer before u decided to leave the boys alone

so when you excused yourself, changkyun was like “yeah yeah sure i’ll see you later” but

kihyun seemed weirdly and surprisingly disappointed for someone who hardly made any eye contact w you through out the hour of hanging out

nd judging on his personality around the boys and on what changkyun told you, you doubt he’s actually  SHY

(in which he is but we’ll get to that later)

but anyways, kihyun was like: “you’re leaving already?”

“????y ea??? i have early classes tomorrow so,,”

“o right your filming classes”

???? ?you’re actually surprised that he knows??? but okay then

so like u go home and attend your classes like normal for almost a whole week, nothing unusual happened, and u doing ur usual routine,

like going to classes, having lunch w your friends and changkyun when he’s free, studying in the library,, and even going out during the afternoon for an hour of,,, walk

so here’s the thing

even when you’re a film student, you have a huge interest in photography, so,

every afternoon you would go out for an hour or two, just to walk around town, stopping once in a while to just take pictures.

people thought you go out for some exercises but l mao n O

you always have your small handy little camera by your side,, your loyal best friend.

so like it was a week??? after that meeting with kihyun and the other boys, but nothing happened,

you did saw kihyun around the campus once in a while,

but everytime your eyes locked, he would blin k for once or twice then quickly look away,

in WHICH, helped u to think that he’s really a snob

(u gH HE IS REALLY NOT but we’ll get there anyways,)

so like one afternoon you’re just walking around town, taking pictures like normal,

and you’re at this small park at the end of town,

its small, and not packed, just like how u like it,,

so you ended up just spending your afternoon there, taking pictures and stuff

nd after a while u spot a cute little kitten playing around, and of course u took pictures of it

the cat spotted you and it just ran towards you and soon,,

your camera was forgotten and you’re there,

just sitting on the ground and playing with the little kitten,,,

it was really peaceful, with just you and the kitten, and maybe some one or two people passing by, a couple sitting on a bench nearby,, but that’s just it

it’s not noisy or anything, just the way you like it,,

at least until u heard some sound of the flicker of a camera

looking around, you were expecting to see someone taking photos of views or the trees,, BUT

what you wasnt expecting was seeing a camera lens being pointed directly towards you,, just a few feet away from you,, and the kitten

you just stared at the camera,, nd the person behind the camera since you’re not really sure what to do

because like you’re not sure either to be mad or not?? since yea, it’s not nice to take other people’s pictures without permission but like,

you yourself have taken so many candid pictures of others,,, so??? u’re not exactly sure??

realizing they were caught, the person quickly lower down their camera and bow down their head slightly

but like you managed to catch their face and you just,,,: “kihyun???”

the person look up at you and with his round glasses on the bridge of his nose, his beanie covering his black hair, a simple round sweater hugging his figure,

you could easily tell it is indeed your campus’ infamous photographer, Mr. Yoo Kihyun

“what are you-”

“look, i’m sorry for taking your picture without permission it’s just that the settings was all so nice and the sunlight was on point, the kitten was active and you look really pretty so i just had to,, and like i hope u dont ask me to delete them??? because it’s really pretty,,, like i could show u if you don’t believe me it’s ReALLy nice!!! and-”

“l mao kihyun you’re babbling and yea of course you can keep them,”

“please dont tell me to- wait, what?? reaLLy???”

“yea h, i mean, as long as i look good in them tho”

“o- oh,, well,, u do look decent i guess???”

“don’t lie, i heard it when u said i looked pretty.”

“o h sh OOt”

CUE a cute blushing kihyun scratching his nape, trying to figure out how to cover up his honest words he blurted out a while ago,

but when he looked up trying to spit out some words about how it was the sun that helped you looked nice,, he sees you grinning at him while the little kitten still playing with your fingers,,,

and he thought,, oh screw it

“y-yeah,, well you always look good anyways, so nothings new”

and when he sees your cheeks slowly growing red, he was glad he said those words,,

he’d always thought you’re cute anyways, only he never actually brought up the guts to approach you properly

and now,, with you here for once smiling at him instead of looking at him as if he’s some kind of snob you hate, which he knows you thought of him that way before this,,

he decided he’s gonna be a  Man and not waste this chance with you

“but like, do you wanna see it though? the pictures, i mean.”

a/n : i might do a second part of this, who knows since i have a major big fat love for photographer!kihyun anyways! Also, newton was released today and photographer!kihyun made his appearance!!!! 

[dontbethatshank]

Awkward Moments (pt. 3)

Request: “ Can you do an “Awkward moments pt. 3”? Those are my favourites ❤️”

A/N: I did this request before others only because I hadn’t uploaded group imagines in ages and this was the first one for it. Don’t worry - I will be updating TMHTL soon as well as a couple other single fics, stay tuned shanks

Thomas: You see, what many people would probably never think of concerning the Glade, is how it affects the natural ways of the world and of people. For instance - periods. You knew what it was. You knew what a tampon was. And you thanked the heavens when the month after you arrive in the Glade a box addressed to you with a note for only you to open it was sent up containing the sacred objects that helped make your period less awkward. Because if you had to use a rag or cloth, washing it would either waste water or it would further litter the small stream the Glade had and that would just be disgusting overall.

Anyways - your monthly secret box came. Alby never asked. Newt threw curious looks but learned to be respectful. Nothing ever changed - so there was obviously never any harm. Except when Thomas came up. When Thomas came, the brunet never stopped the questions. Who, what, where, when, and fucking why. It drove you nuts. He was adorable with his puppy pout and glossy, sweet eyes - but those questions. God, you wanted to strangle him. And once he noticed you got a ‘special’ box every month he soon grew curious. Five months into his coming and it was his favorite topic with you. “Is it edible?”, “Will it help us in the Maze?”, “Why don’t you just share it with us?”; and on, and on, and fucking on. By the sixth month, Thomas took matters into his own hands.

It was Thomas’s day off from running and he volunteered to help unload the boxes of supplies that arrived that day. Upon unloading, he caught eye of the small wooden box that had your name scrawled on it in neat, thick, black handwriting. With a glance around, Thomas snatched it up. And within seconds, he cracked open the box and found the plastic tubes stuffed with the thick cotton material. Thomas toyed with one, curious and confused. Then, he called Newt over to ask him and then Gally, and then half the Glade was gathered around - watching as e toyed with this piece of cotton. Out of curiosity yourself, you slowly approached the growing circle of boys and pushed your way to the center to see what was going on. And there you saw the masterpiece that was Thomas -sticking one tampon up a nostril, another in his ear and then two tied together by the strings that were flossed between his teeth and being used to look like fangs, he called them.

“Y/N! Why did you keep these from us?! They look really usable- and fun!” Thomas grinned mischievously. You smiled sweetly, glad to exact a quick coming revenge. Thomas needed to learn when to stay out of your business. “I see you found my tampons,” you mused, smiling. Most of the boys were snickering, and watching along - most thought you had been fooled. “Tampons? The shuck? What do you usually use them for?” Thomas mused, looking thoughtful as he continued to toy with one that he had in his ear, tossing it between his hands. 

“Oh, the usual. They usually get put into my vagina,” you hummed aloud, your stance becoming cockier as half the boys choked and Thomas froze. “E-Excuse me?” he asked slowly. “Oh, yea! You didn’t know? You see, once a month, for about five or so days, I bleed. Out of my crotch. And, well, Tampons, what you have right there, are used to stop the bleeding so my clothes don’t get ruined. Very helpful,” you explained, a bemused and gloating smile coming onto your face. Thomas’s face slowly turned red as he daintily threw the Tampons onto the ground, and the boys around him began to laugh. Thomas earned the crude nickname of “Blood Boy” after that. Though many serious questions were asked later n by Alby and Newt - which was more awkward for them than you. God, how you loved being surrounded by boys sometimes.

Minho: Being Minho’s girlfriend came with many perks. You got to be in the map room which was surprisingly very cool, you got to eat extra meat and potatoes from his plate, you got to share an actual bed in the homestead, and several other things. But it also came with a few downfalls.

You see, Minho was a… possessive person. Mostly from his joking nature. He was like a child with a toy, or a puppy even - he wanted everyone to know that it was his, but he adored it and took the utmost care of his puppy. But everyone had to know the puppy was his otherwise someone might think it was their puppy and Minho couldn’t have that. Except, you were the puppy. And Minho indeed was very thorough on making sure everyone remembered you were his ‘puppy’.

In the Glade, you were a slicer. You were already decently isolated from the others. You worked with the animals, collected eggs, cut the meat, and took care of the scraps - making it into fertilizer for the gardens. You did a lot of dirty work and that meant you were around very few people. Which could also be seen as a blessing in disguise some days. One of those days being today, in fact.

Last night, while cuddling with your boyfriend, Minho decided your neck and shoulders looked too nice. Too clean. Too perfect, as he said. So now, you had the small red marks going down in a bit of a sloppy line just right from the center of your neck. There were two marks below your collar bone and then two more on your shoulder. There was no way to hide it. Being the one to do the dirty work of the Glade you often wore baggy loose necked, short sleeve shirts. It was hot and the only thing worse than being around the smell of dead animals and animal manure was being a sweating, over heated mess while doing it.

So far, you managed to avoid most everyone. You get up early most morning and eat breakfast with Minho and start your work early once he leaves. This means you can leave early by about 30 to 40 minutes every day to go and shower since you were the slicer who was on strict fertilizer duty - which was probably the dirtiest job, honestly. So really only Minho had seen your oh so pretty marks, which he proudly admired very smugly, might I add. But now it was late afternoon. Runners were coming back and in about 20 minutes, the walls would close. That meant dinner would be soon - and you’d be around every single person in the Glade.

With a sigh, you finished cleaning up the living space for the animals, pushing manuer to the side to be used for fertilizer and laying down fresh patches of hay for the animals to eat/lay in. You walked off, calling over your shoulder you were going to shower. The other slicers got used to the routine and none of them minded - you tended to clean all the knives and prep all the stations in the barn every day before anyone got there. So it was honestly fair. So off you went, to go and wash yourself as clean as you could. And then, it would be dinner time…

Traveling forward about 30 minutes, you were out of the shower, dried off mostly, your wet hair thrown over your shoulder to best hide your… markings. You put on a baggy shirt and some old sweat pants you had found, walking over to the canteen to eat. Most boys had gotten their meals and you soon got your own, hastily saying a hello to Frypan and the other cooks and thanking them kindly before you found a seat with Minho. But your incognito could be hidden for only so long.

“Oi! Minho! What did you do to her!” Newt suddenly shouted. He sat in front of you. He was a runner also, but also Second In Command. He spent half his days in the maze the other in the glade. With a deep blush you looked down, but now all the other boys were curiously peering- and soon the wolf whistles and shouts started. “At least someone’s getting something!” a voice called, and Minho barked out a laugh while you only became redder and warmer. “The girl looks like she’s diseased almost, Christ,” came another voice. “Wonder what the bed looked like,” someone else joked. And that week, well, let’s just say you were the Glade Gossip and no one let you escape the existence of those little marks you had littered on your skin. And boy, did Minho enjoy every moment of it.

[hillbillyisms-blog]

To a Better World

Notes: I originally posted this with the whole link thingie, but Archive of Our Own apparently uploaded my fic twice, and I ended up using the link I originally deleted because one had kudos and the other one didn’t and so it ended up redirecting to the deleted fic (so obviously not getting to the fic itself) and arrrgh.. Anyway, I was originally planning for this to be an extra-long oneshot, but then it got real long, and I realized I’m probably gonna need to turn it into a multi-chaptered fanfiction. Considering this first chapter took me about a month, it might take me about a month for the next chapter, too. I’ll try to get it out sooner, but I can’t make guarantees.

Anyway link here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/10248044

Summary:  Fiddleford McGucket has only ever wanted to make the world a better place. Seeming to be stuck between a rock and a hard place, he comes to a decision that changes his fate, the fate of his closest friend, and the fate of the world as he knows it. But as the world changes for the better, he can't help but wonder if he has made the right choice.

Fiddleford arrived at the diner much earlier than the agreed upon time because he felt he needed the extra time to prepare for his talk with Stanford. He took his seat at a booth; his knee was already beginning to bounce, and he had to force himself to take his hand out of his hair twice before the waitress showed up.

“Hey, you. Long time no see. Fiddle, right?” The waitress had a wide smile and wore cat earrings, but she didn't seem all that familiar to him.

Fiddleford's brow furrowed. Had he been here before? He shot the waitress a small, nervous smile. “Fiddleford,” he corrected. “Nice to, uh, see ya again?”

“Oh, that's right! Fiddleford! So, what can I get you today? Our special today is the Everything Soup. It's got everything in it, including some stuff we found in the kitchen sink this morning-”

Although the Everything Soup sounded pretty good to him, it would've been rude to start eating dinner without Stanford, and he wasn't all that hungry at the moment, anyway. He shook his head. “No, thank ya kindly. Just some coffee for right now would be fine.”

“You got it! I'll get you a cup in a minute, and you let me know if you need anything else.” The waitress sauntered away, presumably to pour him some coffee.

Fiddleford sighed and put his hands through his hair again. Tomorrow, they were going to test the portal. If he was going to put a stop to it, he had to try and get through to Stanford. It wasn't as if he hadn't been trying, but now, he only had a last ditch effort to rely on. The thesis paper tucked away in his jacket felt heavy. His shoulders felt heavy, too, as if the fate of the world rested on them.

He pulled a napkin from the napkin holder and pulled a pen from his pocket. He started to sketch a diagram, the very same one that he had drawn in his room.

Probability of Failure.

If his calculations were correct, then the fate of the world might very well rely on his ability to sway his closest and dearest friend not to go through with the test. He must have rehearsed the conversation a thousand times in his head. He had to be convincing. He just had to be...

His knee continued to bounce. But what if he wasn't? What then? It wasn't as if there was any way he could stop Stanford from testing the portal. Even if he quit right then and there, Stanford was smart enough to be able to start it up all on his own.

His thoughts turned toward the memory-erasing gun he had built. Perhaps he COULD stop Stanford. Fiddleford felt his stomach sink for a moment at the thought. He wasn't sure if he could do that. Sure, he had erased Stanford's memory before on a few separate occasions, but it was to keep him from interfering with his use of the memory-erasing gun. Stanford had brought up good points about how dangerous it could be if it fell in the wrong hands, but Fiddleford was using it to help other people with their bad memories and to keep the portal a secret. And probably help himself with any bad memories, too. He was using it for good reasons, and it wasn't his fault that Stanford couldn't see that.

The thought of using it to actively manipulate Stanford into doing what he wanted, though, that was much harder to rationalize. Even if it was for the greater good, completely overriding or even just outright erasing someone's free will... and not just someone, but his closest friend... could he really do that? Could he really call himself Stanford's friend if he did such a thing to him? Not to mention, it might not be one of those things he could just forget about afterwards. Stanford had to have come to the conclusion about building the portal somehow. What's to say even after his memory was erased that he wouldn't come to the same conclusion later? If Fiddleford didn't have his own memory intact, maybe he wouldn't stop it the next time around.

“Coffee for you,” the waitress said, setting down his coffee on the table.

Fiddleford snapped out of his own thoughts and managed another smile at her. “Thank you.”

“Enjoy it. Everything okay? You're looking kind of worried,” the waitress said, showing some concern. She glanced around a moment, then lowered her voice. “You didn't see our outdated health and food safety inspection certificate, did you?”

Fiddleford sighed and forced his hands out of his hair and onto the table. “I'm fine. Thank you for your concern. I just have a lot on my-” He paused a moment; her words sinking in. “Wait, what?”

The waitress stiffened and forced a big smile. “Nothing! I was just checking to make sure you're all right! Enjoy your coffee!” She backed away a few steps, then quickly left his table.

Fiddleford stared after her a moment, then he focused on putting cream and sugar in his coffee. A moment later, Stanford walked into the diner. Quickly, Fiddleford pulled the napkin with the diagram on it out of sight, and he greeted his friend with a somewhat strained smile. Stanford returned his smile; though, it seemed slightly more genuine. He slid into the booth.

“Sorry, I'm a little late. I was just making a few minor adjustments on the project and lost track of time,” Stanford told him.

Fiddleford had completely lost track of time while immersed in his thoughts. “Oh. Don't ya worry about it none. I wasn't waitin' long.”

That was a lie, of course, since he had arrived at the diner much earlier than he was supposed to. He looked over Stanford a moment; his gaze settling on Stanford's still-red eye. Stanford had claimed it to be the result of an infection of some kind, but Fiddleford was unconvinced.

“How's your eye doin'?” he asked, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Fine, fine,” Stanford said, in that dismissive, nonchalant way he always did. He paused a moment, noticing an opossum scurry across the floor of the diner. He glanced back at Fiddleford. “This is an... interesting place you picked out, Fiddleford. I'm not sure I would have trusted a place called Greasy's Diner. It sounds... questionable.”

Fiddleford felt a little relieved that it seemed like he wouldn't have to get into what would no doubt be a difficult conversation right away. He smiled a little. “I dunno. Small-town place like this seems quaint and charmin'. Besides, I thought it might be nice to try some local cuisine, ya know?”

Stanford gave him a skeptical look and seemed about to comment when the waitress stopped by the table with a couple of menus in her arm. “Oh, is this your friend? I don't think I've seen him around here before.”

Fiddleford noticed Stanford had already stuck his hands under the table, probably in an effort to avoid having to deal with someone commenting on them. He gave a nod. “Yep, this here is-”

“Dr. Stanford Pines,” Stanford said quickly. “I, uh, don't get out much.”

“Oh! A doctor! Oh, wait! Are you that scientist that lives up in that shack in the woods? I've heard some crazy things about that place. I'd do anything to find out what you get up to in there,” the waitress said, a hint of awe and wonder in her voice.

Stanford glanced at Fiddleford questioningly. Fiddleford shrugged his shoulders. Although, he interacted with the locals a little more frequently than Stanford did, he had kept himself tied up in work, too. He had no idea what rumors might be circulating around.

“There's nothing interesting or crazy about what I do, and the shack isn't open to visitors. We'll call you over when we're ready to order,” Stanford told her as she was setting down the menus.

She frowned at Stanford, then walked off.

Fiddleford frowned at Stanford, too; though, the man had already taken to browsing through the menu and wasn't able to see his disapproval.

“Now, Stanford, that wasn't very nice of ya. She was just curious.”

“What else was I supposed to say? We have to preserve the secrecy of our project until we're ready to share it with the world. To do otherwise could mean risking everything we've worked for,” Stanford said, in a matter-of-fact tone.

“Well, yes, but ya didn't have to be so short with her about it.”

“She'll get over it,” Stanford said, not even looking up from the menu. “Ugh, do they serve anything here that wouldn't be swimming in grease?”

Fiddleford shook his head, taking a menu for himself. “Well, it is called Greasy's Diner.”

Stanford looked over the top of the menu at Fiddleford. “When you're right, you're right. Next time, I'm picking the place.”

Fiddleford raised an eyebrow. “You? Stanford, if ya had your way, we wouldn't actually go anywhere. You'd just have me cooking for ya at the shack.”

Stanford looked as if he was trying not to smile. “Would you rather I cook instead?”

“Heavens no!” Fiddleford tried to resist smiling himself. “The last time ya tried cookin' ya darn well almost made ashes of all of us.”

“I was trying to be efficient,” Stanford said.

“If by efficient ya mean tryin' to set fire to everything in a 10-mile radius, then yes. Ya couldn't have gotten much more efficient unless ya actually succeeded in doing that,” Fiddleford told him.

Then, he was unable to help himself and a chuckle escaped his lips. Stanford started chuckling, too. Fiddleford enjoyed these little moments when they weren't talking about the portal. It reminded him of how things used to be when they were in college. It reminded him that, no matter what happened, Stanford was still his friend. That knowledge gave him some small amount of comfort, and he felt some of the tension in his shoulders ease up. They lapsed into a short but comfortable silence as they both overlooked their menus.

“I think I'll have the coffee omelette,” Stanford said, after a moment.

“Don't ya think ya get enough coffee as it is?” Fiddleford said, picking up his cup of coffee and taking a sip.

Stanford looked Fiddleford in the eyes, then made a show of directing his attention to the coffee cup in Fiddleford's hand. He looked back up at Fiddleford, arms crossed.

Fiddleford took another sip of his coffee as if he hadn't noticed.

“For your information, Fiddleford, I've only had fifteen cups of coffee today.”

Fiddleford took another sip. “Ten here.”

“Oh, like that's so much better,” Stanford said, snorting.

“I wager it's about twenty percent healthier to drink ten cups than it is to drink fifteen plus a coffee omelette,” Fiddleford said.

“You made that percentage up, and you know it,” Stanford said.

“I made it up,” Fiddleford said, agreeably.

Stanford didn't get a chance to reply when once again the waitress came by, ready to take their order. Fiddleford ordered the Everything Soup and a ham sandwich as well as a refill for his coffee, and Stanford ordered his coffee omelette as well as a cup of coffee. The waitress mentioned off-hand that the coffee omelette had a secret ingredient, and Fiddleford found it more than a little amusing to watch Stanford's expression contort into one of deep befuddlement and mild horror.

After some light-hearted banter (although, it was mostly him just outright teasing Stanford), they both easily slipped into conversation after conversation as they waited for their food to arrive. It arrived just in time, too, because Stanford was thinking about complaining about the service. One of a number of things they had in common was that they were both quick eaters. Stanford didn't like to waste anymore time than necessary to eat (a fact which sometimes concerned Fiddleford since there had been more than a few instances where Stanford simply skipped eating altogether). As for himself, well, meal times back when he was living on the hog farm were a battlefield. If he didn't eat quickly, there was a good chance someone would take his food before he could even blink. Old habits died hard.

“You know, Fiddleford, even though, I'd rate this restaurant as the worst I've ever been to,” Stanford began.

Fiddleford gave a bit of a frown as he held up his cup of coffee to his lips.

“I'm glad you convinced me to come out and dine with you.” Stanford offered him a smile.

Fiddleford was certain the warm feeling in his stomach wasn't just from the food he had eaten and the coffee that he was drinking. He set his cup of coffee down and smiled back at his friend.

“I'm glad ya came, too, Stanford.”

Stanford's smile only grew broader. “I think this dinner together was a great way to celebrate our future success! I propose a toast. To the project, to us, to making history, and to making a better world!”

He raised his cup.

Fiddleford felt his stomach sink, and he kept his eyes glued on his own coffee cup. It was now or never. But the words weren't coming to him. They felt stuck in his throat.

“Fiddleford? What's wrong?” Stanford asked, his voice low and concerned.

Fiddleford heard the cup getting set back down on the table. He ran a hand through his hair and cleared his throat. “I'm...”

He glanced at the napkin he had drawn on that was hidden behind the condiments. He grabbed it and slowly slid it over to Stanford.

“What's this?”

Fiddleford closed his eyes and breathed. “I'm havin' second thoughts.”

“Second thoughts? But we're so close to finishing the project,” Stanford said, sounding incredulous.

That was the hard part, right? Admitting it aloud? That was over. Now, he needed to explain himself. He opened his eyes to look at Stanford briefly, noting the man seemed confused.

“My final calculations have revealed deep flaws in our design – flaws that could have disastrous consequences. I've quintuple-checked everything that isn't an unknown variable, and by the way, there are too many unknown variables. We have no earthly idea where that portal actually leads, Stanford. Nor do we have any frame of reference for what might happen as a result of essentially punchin' a hole in the fabric of reality.” Fiddleford tried to keep his voice level, but it was reaching that higher pitch it got to whenever he was in distress.

Stanford looked around the diner a moment and leaned in close. “Shhh, shh. Keep your voice down. This project is supposed to be a secret, remember?”

Fiddleford nodded slowly and lowered his voice.

“The structural integrity of the portal is about as solid as we can possibly make it, but I ain't convinced that a strong enough gravitational anomaly won't tear the whole thing apart. The fuel for the portal itself is inherently unstable, and besides the fact that we're riskin' serious radiation sickness, we could have a potentially explosive situation on our hands. And I ain't meanin' a small explosion neither; I mean an explosion that could wipe out this entire town, county, and its surroundin' counties. The gravitational anomalies themselves also present a danger in -”

Stanford interrupted him. “Fiddleford, you're talking about worst-case scenarios here. Everything is going to be fine, I-”

Fiddleford interrupted him in turn. “No. No, I've done the math. The probability of failure outweighs the probability of success in nearly every case. These are LIKELY scenarios, Stanford.”

Stanford fell quiet a moment. “I'm not convinced-”

It was Fiddleford's turn to sound incredulous. “Are ya questionin' my math?”

“No, no,” Stanford said hurriedly. “But Fiddleford, you look tired. I noticed you looked tired when I came in here, and you've been stressed a lot lately. Maybe I've been pushing you too hard...”

“We're being reckless. We need to reconsider this whole plan, if not for our own safety than for the safety of this town. These people have no idea what we're buildin'. They have a right not to be put in harm's way,” Fiddleford said, managing a firm note despite the shakiness of his voice.

Stanford sighed, then he clenched his fists. “What if I told you that I know everything is going to turn out fine? You can trust me.”

“You can't know that. And numbers don't lie,” Fiddleford told him. Nonetheless, he looked at Stanford curiously. Why would he say that? What was his friend seeing that he wasn't seeing?

“I started this project. Do you really think I would continue work on it if I thought it was dangerous?”

Fiddleford's expression went flat. The look would no doubt be familiar to Stanford. It happened often enough when Stanford said something contradictory or foolish.

Stanford gave an exasperated sigh, rolling his eyes. “Fine. Do you really think I would continue work on it if I thought it was THAT dangerous? I wouldn't risk an entire town's safety like that. You know me. I'm not like that.”

Fiddleford fell silent for a moment, turning this thought over. He had known Stanford once. But now? Now, he wasn't sure. He felt a distance between them that hadn't been there before in their relationship. Idly, he plucked at a few strands of his hair. There was something else that bothered him. Something he had brought up before, but Stanford kept dismissing.

“There are things you're not tellin' me, Stanford,” Fiddleford told him.

Stanford fell silent this time.

“I know I've asked before. But I'm asking again because... because we're friends, and we should be able to trust each other. This project we're developing... it's more advanced than anything the human race is currently workin' on. We're developin' technology and usin' theorems and exploitin' discoveries in quantum physics that don't exist and shouldn't exist for another thousand to several thousand years. This is an unprecedented rate of development.”

Stanford's downcast look came up for a moment, and his eyes gleamed. Fiddleford once admired that look in his eyes, but now it concerned him.

“Isn't it thrilling?” he asked, a whisper of awe.

“It's impossible,” Fiddleford said, feeling himself starting to tremble due to his nerves. “It should be impossible, Stanford. Where did ya get the idea for the portal?”

Here, he managed to look at his friend, trying to search his eyes, hoping for answers at long last. Stanford remained quiet, his expression hesitant. Fiddleford felt that all too familiar sinking sensation in his stomach again. He knew Stanford wasn't going to tell him. He knew it. Stanford didn't trust him. It was as simple as that. What's worse was that Fiddleford was sure Stanford had gotten himself involved into some kind of supernatural strangeness. He didn't know if the man had been visited by aliens or what, but whatever it was that had given him the idea for the portal, he couldn't be sure it had their best interests at heart. Not when all of his calculations told him otherwise.

Fiddleford gave a heavy sigh and reached into his jacket for the thesis paper. This was his last ditch effort to convince Stanford not to go through with the test. He held the paper in his trembling hands, and he tried to will them to stop shaking to no avail. His shoulders shook along with them, and he had to adjust his spectacles to prevent them from sliding down the bridge of his nose.

Stanford's jaw had dropped open, and he stared at the paper, wide-eyed. Fiddleford hurried to explain.

“F-for the last three days,” Fiddleford said, swallowing hard, “I've been workin', without breaks, to write this paper for ya. It's a comprehensive chronicle of all your greatest discoveries.”

Stanford just continued staring, silent. Fiddleford couldn't stop now. This was important. This was his last attempt to try and convince his friend to quit the project.

“Publish this,” he said, placing it on the counter. “This is your research. I merely went through the trouble of catalogin' it for ya. There are enough discoveries here to make ya a multimillionaire. With this, ya will have everything ya ever wanted, and ya won't need to go through with this risky test. Forget about the portal and the Grand Unified Theory of Weirdness! Publish this, get your life back, and move on!”

Fiddleford couldn't keep the pleading note of desperation out of his voice, especially as Stanford's brow started to furrow, and his mouth became a hard line. Stern. He seemed to be trembling also, and his six-fingered fists were clenched so tight that Fiddleford could see his knuckles turning white. The atmosphere in the room felt as if it had dropped a few degrees.

Fiddleford put both of his hands into his hair and stared at Stanford with a look of wild desperation and concern. He had seen Stanford shut down like this before. He remembered the first time Stanford had spoken to him about his twin brother. He had looked like this, too. Angry. Cold.

“Check, please!” Stanford called. His eyes were not on the thesis paper Fiddleford had written but on Fiddleford himself. Hurt. That's what could be seen there. Hurt... and something else. Something Fiddleford hadn't seen directed at him since they had become friends. Suspicion?

“Stanford-”

Stanford looked away from him. His voice sounded rougher than usual and harsh. “Right now would be good!”

The waitress with the cat earrings hurried over, giving Stanford something of a disapproving frown before presenting Fiddleford and Stanford with their bills. She went away, grumbling something under her breath about rudeness.

Fiddleford sucked in a breath. He wasn't going to cry. Not here. Not right now.

“S-stanford, please.”

Stanford looked back at Fiddleford, and for a moment, the expression in his face softened. It almost gave Fiddleford hope. Only for his hope to be dashed again when Stanford looked away from him once more to fumble with his wallet to present the exact amount of change needed for the bill. Then, he stood, fists clenched at his side. “We will do the test tomorrow night at eight 'o clock sharp.”

All Fiddleford could feel was dread. Dread threatening to consume him from the inside out. Dread for what the future would hold.

And then, Stanford said something that shocked him to his core.

“Be there or get left behind. The choice is yours.”

Fiddleford didn't see Stanford leave; he only heard the diner's door slam and felt the eyes of the diner's other patrons on him. Get left behind? What was he saying? Did the project mean that much more to him than... than their friendship? He felt sick. He stared down at the napkin with the diagram on it.

Probability of Failure.

It mocked him. Mocked his own failure in trying to convince Stanford to quit the portal. He didn't know what to do now. Numbers didn't lie. If they went through with the test or even if Stanford went through with the test alone, it would end in disaster.

But Stanford had said to trust him. Trust him. How could he trust him when he wouldn't tell him everything? How could he trust him when their friendship was being threatened over work on a project? He had trusted Stanford once, had dropped everything to come here to help him, and this was it. This was the result?

But they were friends, weren't they? And... and he had trusted Stanford once. Couldn't he find it in him to trust him again? The project meant so much to Stanford. They were both working so hard. If he could just forget this ever happened...

Fiddleford thought of the memory-erasing gun. He could forget. No question. But... He glanced at the napkin again.

Probability of Failure.

Numbers didn't lie. He could trust his friend and hope for the best, or he could take matters into his own hands. For their own safety. For the safety of the town. Maybe even the safety of the world. Fiddleford stared at the napkin a moment more, then he grabbed it and crumpled it up in his hand. He came to a decision right then and there.

Fiddleford emptied out his wallet to cover his own bill. He didn't bother trying to calculate the appropriate tip. If he paid the waitress more than he should have, well... she seemed like a nice lady and probably deserved the extra money, anyway. He kept his head bowed to avoid meeting anyone's gaze as he hurried out the diner.

Tomorrow, everything would be different. Tomorrow, everything would be... better.