Another fanfic rant
People are really demanding of fanfic writers. I just read someone complaining about there not being enough The Bear fanfic, what they read is out of character, Carmy and Syd are written straight, blah, blah.
People can write the characters how they want. We aren’t trying to reproduce the canon show. If we were it wouldn’t be fanfic. I can’t write like the actual screenwriters. Some people try to write close to canon characterization, others don’t. This comment is also contradictory because canon Carmy and Syd aren’t written as not being straight, at least up to this point. So how is fanfic written with them straight out of character? And there are fics with both written as queer, so that’s not even true. Viewers can’t even agree on character interpretation of canon, so how are fanfic writers supposed to “get it right” when it’s all open to interpretation? I literally just read a post from someone who didn’t get that Jon Bernthal is Mikey???!!! Anyways, people can write them however they like. Have people never heard of the terms head canon, reinterpretation, and AU?
People need to write themselves or stop complaining.
Also, you know what, the time and effort, I’ll say again, is only partially rewarded. I bet most of the complainers don’t bother to comment, give kudos, or share works they do like. Heck, I leave positive comments and kudos even if I wasn’t thrilled with a story. There is always something good to highlight and gives encouragement.
I’ve written 17 chapters so far and have three to go. I am at a bit of a standstill. Why? I don’t always want to be writing. I write a lot for work and have other creative projects. Sometimes I want to just fangirl on Tumblr, which takes way less effort than constructing narrative. I also have a full life outside of fandom. I’m pretty social and have friendships to maintain and places to go. I may not get a lot of writing done the next two months. Why? It’s summer. I live in NYC. The weather mostly sucks here so when it’s nice I don’t want to spend hours at home, inside, writing. And if I am inside, maybe I want to read, watch a movie or show, clean my apartment, do a facial or manicure, cook. I dunno, other normal things. I was beating myself up about that, but whatevs. There is so much cool stuff going on, I’m going to do it. I work hard to play hard. Today I was supposed to go to the beach for a party but it’s storming so I’m trapped inside. I may write, or I may just chill because honestly I’m hungover from my fun day yesterday and don’t know how much mental energy I feel like exerting.
I’m not going to be beholden to produce works at rapid pace to meet demand that isn’t as appreciated as it should be.
So y’all will get chapter 18 at some point. It may not please everyone, but it will please me, and will be completed in my own time.
Thanks to all the readers who are great fans of fic writers! The ones who aren’t overly critical, leave comments, give kudos, reblog, and are patient are gold. We love you!
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So there’s this fic called Crimson River (idk if you’ve heard of it read it) it’s technically a wolfstar & jegulus, but that aside it’s quite a fantastic bit of internal monologue from Aberforth regarding James and Sirius.
“ The bond between James and Sirius is something entirely other. He has never before seen anything that could compare to it. What James and Sirius have doesn’t exist in history, and may never exist again - not just once in a lifetime, but once in any lifetime.  This is not history repeating itself, therefore it is unprecedented. Aberforth had no doubt in his mind that James and Sirius could undergo any form of torture and come out the other side entirely themselves, but he does doubt that they wouldn’t toss everything that they are, and all that they stand for, if it could mean sparing one another any bit of pain.”
i do know the fic!! i think it’s impossible to be in certain fandoms w/o hearing about some fics and this is one of those. the whole thing sounds amazing but it’s just,,,the ships lol (although,,,if i’m hearing it right,,,zar might be…dipping a toe into j/s soon so i need someone to ping me if that happens bc i’d run so fast—i love their entire energy so much my god)
and this really sums it up why bc it’s so, SO accurate for j & s. they have a bond that’s so unique and so codependent, it’s hard to separate where one begins and the other ends. and zar gets it ykno? no matter what romantic ship they might be a part of, the other is an integral part to them and this passage captures it so brilliantly. esp that last bit about enduring anything for their own self but if anything happen to the other, they’d go feral. like, i firmly believe that sirius is a bit broken not because of azkaban but bc he lost james. if for whatever reason (not that it’s possible lol) james was alive & he still ended up going thru 12 years in azkaban, i don’t think he’d be as he was. james’ death is so fundamental to who he is post halloween, it’s just !!!!!! i don’t even have words lol
thank u so much for sending this to me <33
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hi guys its me. im feeling,,,kinda terrible rn so here’s some angst i wrote a little while ago!
Something was wrong.
Will knew Mike too well to believe his yeah guys, I’ll be fine! that had sounded far too flat to be reassuring.
He knew Mike had been struggling; it hadn’t been hard to see, not when he was with El, not when Nancy made that offhand comment about his room while they were cleaning Hopper’s cabin.
And yeah, maybe…maybe Mike had changed. Will didn’t doubt that. Change was inevitable, especially with them, between them, and…and that was something that Will had learned to deal with a long, long time ago.
But something about Mike’s volunteering didn’t seem right.
“You weren’t seeing the counselor though, were you, Mike?” Dustin asked, tying a bandana around his head to keep his curls from falling into his face.
Will looked at Mike, expecting a scoff, but he hesitated, hand reaching up to nervously comb through his hair. It had gotten longer in the past couple of weeks - the lack of barbers in Hawkins had ensured that - and was getting curlier, almost. His fingers got caught halfway through. “Well,” he started, then shook his head. “I would never, I’m not—“
“There’s nothing wrong with it, Mike,” Lucas said gently, putting a hand on Mike’s shoulder. “Max was going to her, before—“
“I’m not depressed! I’m fine,” Mike said, too loudly, and Will could feel his eyes widen against his will. Mike took a deep breath before he continued. “I’ll just make him want me, and then when he’s vulnerable, you guys can kill him.”
“We all know how well that worked last time,” Erica pointed out, eyebrows lifted at Mike. Lucas looked down at his hands, and Will ached for him.
He couldn’t imagine losing someone he loved. Holding them in his arms as they pleaded for their life. Watching as the light drained from their eyes.
He wasn’t going to lose anyone else. No one was. Will would make sure of that.
Mike’s lips turned down. “Yeah, well, it’s different this time.” He reached for a bandana, and he wrapped it around his face, covering and protecting his mouth from the spores that still made Will’s lungs ache, all these years later. “We have El, and we have Will.” He brushed his hair back out of his eyes, and Will’s fingers itched to fix it, to put it up, to let his fingertips graze over Mike’s forehead.
“I don’t know what I’m gonna do, Mike,” Will said quietly, fingers twitching slightly at his side.
Mike looked to him, and something shone in his eyes that Will couldn’t place. He put a soft hand on Will’s shoulder. “You’re gonna be there, and you’re gonna make sure that I don’t get taken.”
“Okay,” Will said. His voice sounded small, even to his own ears, but he didn’t care, because Mike was depending on him. They all were.
***
Will didn’t know why they were at the quarry.
He’d just followed Mike—like he always did—and they’d ended up…here.
Mike set his bike down carefully, and Will watched him curiously. Mike shuffled forward, towards the edge, and— “Mike.”
He turned to Will. His thin body was backlit by the unsettling red lighting from the Upside Down, and it made Mike look ill. Will swung a leg over his bike. “Mike.”
“This is where you died, Will,” Mike said quietly, so softly Will had to take a step forward to hear him. “They found your body here, they—“
“But I didn’t die, Mike,” Will interrupted. He could feel his bravery cracking, like the lightning in the sky above them. “I’m here, I’m here.”
“I know,” Mike said, looking away as his voice seemed to shatter. “I know, but god, it looked so real. It was…it was you.”
Will vaguely remembered hearing about it. The government had made an exact replica of…of him, his body, and had left it in the cold water below them. To cover up that he had actually been taken.
“And I couldn’t—“ Mike turned all the way away from Will, curls cascading against his back like a waterfall. “I couldn’t live without you. So I—fuck, One! Come on! Don’t make me say it!”
Mike was yelling now, and it echoed through the eerily desolate landscape around them. Will took a step back, more out of surprise than anything, and he looked around frantically. “Mike—“
“You’ve been in my head, you fucker! You know I jumped because I couldn’t live without him! You know I did! And you know about the letters and the thoughts and the things I can’t bear to say to him! You know everything!” Mike’s screams were hurting Will’s ears, and he covered them with his hands. Will watched in terror as Mike spun to face him, hands on his head, eyes crazed. “Come out and take me! Please! I’m ready to go! Let me out of here!”
“Mike!” Will screamed, pointing behind Mike, and he turned around just in time to see Vecna walking at him, hand raised. Mike fell to the ground, like a puppet with cut strings, and Will tried to run towards him, but he couldn’t move, he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t—
“Will.”
His voice was everywhere. Will bent over at the waist, mouth open in a silent scream, ears covered with his hands, like his flesh would do anything to stop the terrors of his mind.
“I’ve waited so long for you,” Vecna said, walking past unconscious Mike, whose pale, pale face was twisted into a sick grin, and Will wanted to vomit. “You’ve finally come back to me.”
“No,” Will sobbed, shaking his head. “You’re not real, you’re not real, you’re not—“
“Oh, but I am, Will,” he said, running a finger under Will’s jaw. Suddenly, some vines were snapping out of the underbrush, wet tendrils digging into his skin as they gripped Will’s limbs and lifted him into the air. “I’m more real than anything you’ve ever seen.”
A vine gripped Will’s throat, and he choked out another sob before Vecna was in his face, warm breath puffing over Will’s skin. “You’ve always been lied to, Will.” He pointed at where Mike lay on the ground, limbs askew like he had fallen, or jumped from somewhere very high, oh god— “Maybe it was all your fault, this whole time. For being different.”
He spat the word like venom, and Will recoiled hard enough for the vines holding him in the air to tighten their grip to hold him upright.
“You’re the reason he’s dead,” Vecna hissed, lifting Mike with a hand. “You made him love you, so much that he couldn’t live without you. Does this look like something good to you, Will?”
Mike was thrown at Will’s feet like he weighed nothing, and Will screamed, agony becoming so unbearable that his chest felt like it was collapsing.
“That’s what I thought.” Vecna nodded to himself, then motioned to the apocalyptic hell around him. “If you come with me, we can be good.”
Will shook his head as tears pricked his eyes. The vines around his neck tightened.
“We could be heroes, Will.”
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