#and i hate the backlash of “Oh how dare you want engagement”

[thorniest-rose]

hello 🖤 out of curiosity what kind of stuff do you consider dark? because i want to write dark stuff for steddie but don’t want backlash. i wonder if what I consider dark is too much, but to know there was an audience for certain things would really help me to go for it. ( for example i love age gaps and want to do 30-40 year old Eddie with teen Steve: dad/babysitter, rockstar/groupie, motorcycle daddy/runaway, teacher/student [dare i say stepfather/stepson sksksk] etc. but have received crit for like, 2 year difference ) and i wonder if it’s the content itself or how it’s handled? because when people write age difference/incest without highlighting how creepy the older one feels it doesn’t *feel* dark if that makes sense. (your eddie is clearly aware of what he is so there’s dark energy to it) but maybe im wrong. i would genuinely love to hear your thoughts. 🖤🖤

hi there!! oh this is such an interesting question, thank you so much.

So what do I consider dark? It's difficult in a way because everyone has different thresholds and comfort levels when it comes to fic, I have a very high threshold and not many triggers. For me, dark fic that I'm interested in reading and writing includes dysfunctional, destructive relationships where there's obsession, jealousy, codependency and control at play, but where both people like it, and don't want to change or have a healthier dynamic or set firmer boundaries. Sometimes I like reading fic about relationships that are abusive and I enjoy reading and writing fic where there's dubious consent (or even non-con) and BDSM relationships where there isn't good etiquette and where there aren't standard things like safewords. Like I love when the sub belongs to the Dom and the Dom calls all the shots and says they know what their sub needs. It's not how relationships should be irl of course, but it's all fantasy.

I love age difference fics too! I would love to write a fic with teen Steve where Eddie's in his 30s, I think that would be so wrong and hot. Like I love all the things and dynamics you've mentioned in your ask! And I think it's such a shame that people feel too frightened to write dark fic a lot of the time, or that they've been made to feel gross and weird for wanting to explore dark and more complex dynamics. Or even just enjoy things without feeling judged for it. So I'm sorry that you want to write fics like this but feel like you can't because of potential backlash. And I wish I could advise more on what things could cause backlash and what won't, because in the past I've had so much hate and abuse for things I've written but in this fandom I've had hardly any abuse at all, so it's really hard to quantify.

I would say this, completely genuinely, that I think you should write whatever you want because you shouldn't have to censor yourself or repress what you want to write. I can guarantee there will always be an audience for it, and people who will be so excited to read darker fic and dynamics. It might be a smaller audience, but it'll be very enthusiastic, and that'll make it completely worth it. If you want to be cautious too, you could have an ao3 account that's separate to your main account to post dark fic, or you could moderate comments. And if you do get shitty people, ignore them and delete any abuse you get. I've found in the past that it's when I give people air and try to engage with them that they get worse. But when I completely ignore them, they get starved of oxygen and give up. And usually if people say anything, it's just a small group of nasty people too, it'll never be as many people as you fear it could be.

There's also the chance that no one will say anything mean and people will love your fics! And if you feel passionately about your ideas, you should go for it! I'm on the cusp of posting a fic that's pretty dark, where intoxicated Steve is being used by multiple men for sex at a party, and the fic I'm writing with Azriel is probably the darkest fic in this fandom, it explores so many uncomfortable topics and will be so dead dove. And because of that we except it to have a smaller readership than a lot of other fics, but we also know the small group of people who do read it will love it, and that makes it so worth it. Plus it's so freeing to finally write a dark fic without feeling like I have to restrain myself, so you should feel free to do it too.

So please, I hope this has helped and encouraged you, even a little. And if you do write any of these fic ideas, let me know because I'd love to read them!!! <3

#asks #tw abuse #tw non-con

[robininthelabyrinth]

I don't know if you ship ChengXian, but maybe a soul mate au for them with a happy ending please?

1

They figured out that Wei Ying’s parents had died, and Wei Ying left alone, when Jiang Cheng’s fingers started scabbing over.

After all, that’d been the agreement: Jiang Fengmian would consent to his wife’s proposal to engage his eldest daughter to the Jin sect’s heir, and in return she would agree to allow him to bind his best friend’s son to his own the way he and Wei Changzhe had once been bound, before the latter dissolved it in order to marry. 

A soul binding contract, allowing the wounds incurred by one to be shared with the other – a life-saving panacea, halving the severity of the injury by splitting it among two people’s bodies.

It was supposed to be for Jiang Cheng’s benefit, or so Jiang Fengmian had said, but the more his father went out to search for the missing Wei Wuxian – because it had to be his fingers that were so cold that they nearly froze, his nails that were breaking off as he scrabbled for food, his palms that were scraped raw by landing too-hard against the earth – the more Jiang Cheng thought that it was actually for him.

The other persons’ child.

Jiang Cheng didn’t mind, though. He forced himself to eat twice as much as he needed at meals, thinking about how the way he still lost weight he couldn’t spare, but his father forced him to eat even more than that, more and more until his mother threatened to beat him with Zidian if he even suggested another spoonful. He carefully bandaged his fingers and stayed inside, not risking any injury that might spread to Wei Ying’s body, anything that might be the difference between life and death for him.  He took warm baths and wrapped himself in blankets to try to pass along what warmth he could in winter, huddling in his bed with Jasmine, Princess, and Lovely so they could add their warmth, too, licking his fingers whenever they hurt.

When his father finally came back with Wei Ying in his arms, Jiang Cheng was so happy to finally have a chance to meet the boy who was going to be his best friend, just like their fathers had been.

It was nearly all ruined when Jiang Fengmian sent Jiang Cheng’s puppies away, citing Wei Ying’s fear – the contract couldn’t survive hatred, would break at once if one of them ever really hated the other – but in the end Wei Ying came to him and whispered that he remembered little tongues licking his fingers, that maybe these dogs weren’t so bad, and maybe they could go find them again…maybe even together?

That was when Jiang Cheng knew that every bit of effort he’d put in all those years was worth it.

2

It was hard to tell which one of them got into more scrapes when they were younger, Wei Wuxian in his recklessness or Jiang Cheng in trying to keep up with his friend, so they got into the habit of patching each other up as quickly as possible before either Jiang Fengmian or Madam Yu could see – depending on who they encountered first, one of them would get blamed, and neither of them wanted to see that.

Madam Yu sometimes talked about arranging a marriage for Jiang Cheng so that he wouldn’t be burdened by the soul-contract any longer, but Jiang Fengmian refused, insisting that his son pick his marriage for himself, and Jiang Cheng was quietly relieved: he didn’t want to trade in Wei Wuxian for some girl he didn’t know.

Even when Wei Wuxian began to outpace him, being more skilled, more talented, more charismatic – even when people started saying he understood the Jiang sect motto better, that he would be a better sect leader, that he was Jiang Fengmian’s true heir –

Jiang Cheng didn’t care. Wei Wuxian would stand by his side, always, and that was worth a sacrifice.

A little pain in the body, a little pain in the heart, it was all the same.

They were by each other’s side in the Cloud Recesses, they were by each other’s side in the Nightless City, they were at each other’s side as they fell into the cave and came up against the Xuanwu –

And then Jiang Cheng had to be the one to go, while Wei Wuxian had to be the one to stay.

Jiang Cheng clutched his bleeding arm and ignored his burning chest as he hiked back to Yumeng from Qishan, running as far as he could and walking the rest until his feet started bleeding and then he stopped, because he couldn’t let Wei Wuxian face the Xuanwu with bleeding feet, could he?

“Don’t listen to your father,” Wei Wuxian told him after he’d been rescued, when Jiang Fengmian had praised Wei Wuxian and ignored everything Jiang Cheng had done. “I know what you did for me.”

He touched his ribs, which had ached with the exertion, and his feet that were so tired, his stomach that been filled with ill-tasting weeds from the side of the road, that old concern about Wei Wuxian starving rearing its head again, filled and filled until the point that Wei Wuxian had tasted bile that wasn’t his own –

Yes, Wei Wuxian knew that Jiang Cheng loved him.

3

One of the Wen guards slapped Jiang Cheng in the face when he captured him, laughing at their newest prisoner, and only a few streets away Wei Wuxian coughed up blood in response. He didn’t realize then what had happened, but when he returned to find Jiang Cheng gone…

Jiang Cheng would never in his life tell Wei Wuxian what he had done for him, but Wei Wuxian touched his jaw, thought of the timing, and put two and two together.

“It was supposed to be for you, idiot,” he said, wiping the tears from his eyes as he made his way back towards the Lotus Pier as quickly as possible. “It was supposed to protect you – why do you always insist on protecting me?”

Wei Wuxian went as quickly as he could, but he didn’t have his sword and didn’t dare try to find another; his progress was slow, and slowed further by the night he spent screaming up into the stars as the discipline whip fell on Jiang Cheng’s shoulders and chest.

By the way Wei Wuxian suddenly felt terribly sick, empty inside, and didn’t know why until he rescued Jiang Cheng.

(Wen Chao, Wang Lingjiao, Wen Zhuliu…Wei Wuxian vowed that they would all die horrible deaths, every one of them, for what they did to his shidi – to his Jiang Cheng. How dare they..!)

“Remember not to fidget too much,” Wei Wuxian called with a fake smile on his face as Jiang Cheng started his way up the mountain in Yiling, blindfolded and hopeful and believing in Wei Wuxian’s words the way he always had. “Don’t forget: when you get back down, we’ll have matching scars.”

4

“I refuse,” Jiang Cheng said, and turned away from Wei Wuxian. “I will not kick you out of the Jiang sect. I don’t care if Jin Guangshan is angry over what you did – I will not do it.”

“Be sensible for once, Jiang Cheng,” Wei Wuxian said. “This is shijie’s marriage we’re talking about, and the Jiang sect’s well-being! The stupid things I’ve done are on my head – they shouldn’t drag anyone else down.”

“It’s not a matter of dragging it down – you wouldn’t say that I should abandon the sect because of my failures, would you?”

“What? No. Of course not –”

“Well, the Jiang sect’s as much yours as it is mine.”

Wei Wuxian rolled his eyes. “Jiang Cheng –”

“It is,” Jiang Cheng snapped. “And if you don’t know that by now, you’ll never figure it out, will you?”

He stormed off.

Wei Wuxian stared behind him for a long time, twisting his fingers together. “Oh,” he said, thinking about how Madame Yu would often declare that she was every bit the mistress of the Jiang sect as Jiang Fengmian was the master. “Oh – Jiang Cheng –”

But in the end, what had to happen had to happen.

5

“I’m his uncle. Do you have any last words?”

Wei Wuxian turned around, back going cold – that voice was Jiang Cheng, his A-Cheng, A-Cheng who he’d left behind and all alone.

Jiang Cheng who had run straight to him in secret as soon as the siege of the Burial Mound was planned, still clad in mourning clothes from the Nightless City and covered in the dust of burying Jiang Yanli, whispering in Wei Wuxian’s ear desperately that he had to run, he had to escape, that if he could only get out of the encirclement that Jiang Cheng hide him, he’d find a way, they’d find a way, I can’t lose you too –

Wei Wuxian had looked his lover in the eye and lied to him again as he’d lied to him before: he told him to go gather up his Jiang sect cultivators, as many as he could, and join the siege, told that he’d be able to claim Wei Wuxian for his own sect and demand the others stay out of his family business, told that it would all work out all right.

All lies.

The cultivation backlash had already begun at that point, building deep inside Wei Wuxian’s dantian that no longer had a golden core to help hold it back, and he knew there would be no escape for him. Better that his death serve some purpose in clearing Jiang Cheng’s name.

Now, back in the present, Wei Wuxian slowly turned on his heel.

Jiang Cheng was even more beautiful than he’d been when they were young. He had finally settled into his adult body, well-proportioned and strong; his entire being sufficed with an aura of power – with Sandu at his side and Zidian on his hand, he was every inch the sect leader he had always been meant to be.

But that wasn’t what took Wei Wuxian’s breath away.

Jiang Cheng’s clothing was high-necked and his sleeves were worn tight to his wrists – but there was still enough flesh visible for Wei Wuxian to see the silvery scars that were peppered throughout his skin, little flecks that shone in the light of the moon from every meridian he had.

As if his body had been torn apart by a thousand fierce ghosts, a cultivation backlash fierce enough to kill no matter how much it had been divided between two bodies.

Jiang Cheng must have refused to release the soul-binding contract until the very end, even as it nearly dragged him into the abyss at Wei Wuxian’s side.

“A-Cheng…”

“Who are you to call my uncle that?” Jin Ling cried out, furious, and he flung out his sword; Wei Wuxian was so shocked that he barely remembered to dodge in time, the sharp end of the blade cutting a thin line in his cheek as it passed him by. “You madman! I can’t believe I was nice to you once –!”

Jiang Cheng held his hand.

At first Wei Wuxian and Jin Ling both thought he was calling for silence, but then Jiang Cheng moved his hand to touch his own face – his cheek, where a thin line of flesh had opened up, and blood dripped down.

“…A-Xian?”

6

“I’ve heard so much about you, shishu!” Jin Ling said later, when they were back in the Lotus Pier, his eyes shining as bright as stars. “Jiujiu’s told me all the stories – I even know how to make Mother’s soup, he said that was your favorite! Do you want to try some?”

Wei Wuxian wasn’t sure how he’d manage to eat soup, even his shijie’s special one, given that Jiang Cheng showed no inclination to release his hand now or forever, but he smiled and nodded and watched as Jin Ling ran away to the kitchens.

“You’re not angry at me?” he asked, not for the first time. To think that Jiang Cheng had never released the soul-binding contract, even when Wei Wuxian had been a ghost, even when his soul had been recalled into a body not his own…

“I’m furious,” Jiang Cheng replied. “The only way you can make it up to me is to stay with me forever.”

#mdzs #jiang cheng #wei wuxian #jiang fengmian #jin ling #my fic #my fics #worst possible soulmate au for these two #Anonymous

[write-a-bad-romance]

Napoleon x Wellington Angst Request

Ooooh good suggestion, @nuclearwinterexe! Now’s a good chance to explore Wells’ role in my modern AU. 

Wells and Napo were fellow Psychology students, but then a fallout happened that ruined their relationship as well as their reputation on campus. While they do time and again after graduation, they’re both too stubborn to reconcile. Now that’s one wound that can’t heal.

So, here you go! Jealous angry disaster bi Wellington feat Napoleon x Josephine!

Rated T for cursing and deregatory words towards Modern AU!Josephine

Wellesley carefully stuffed his bag in the overhead compartment before settling into his seat. The glass on the window reflected the garish teal-pink-and neon yellow upholstery of the train seats. Not that he cared the first time.

A video on YouTube said that terrible thoughts and intrusive memories were no different than ugly train upholstery. They might hurt your eyes, but you'd have no choice but to endure the ride so long as you wanted to get from one station to the next.

But he was presented with a different kind of suffering as he reeled back to three days ago. He had confronted his (now-former, he thought bitterly) running mate, and it led into an outburst.

"What's this? Dropping out of the race? Why do I only hear of this now, Bonaparte?"

"I was going to tell you, but I was afraid you wouldn't like it—"

"Afraid, my arse! It was the backlash you were scared of, as you should be. This will not go well over our supporters and seniors, you know it."

"I'm well aware. That's why you're the first person I intended to consult first."

"The first person, eh? Too bad your friends couldn't keep mum about your little secrets since I found out about this from a junior. What was it you didn't want me to do if I found out? Hmmm?"

"That you'd feel hurt," The other man gulped, looking strangely small to Wellesley at that moment.

Hurt? As if I needed your protection from anything, he thought with ire.

Wellesley's icy blue eyes bore into emerald ones. He was appalled by the lack of luster in those  orbs.

"Oh, just be frank now," he spat. "What did that snake of a woman tell you this time?"

Wellesley was never one to let his emotions spill. He was used to being ignored by his family, and in turn, he ignored them. The Irishman took pride in his unbroken character and iron will. 

Qualities he believed had drawn Bonaparte in.

Bonaparte. Brilliant Bonaparte. Straightforward and ambitious, rightfully so. He had the intelligence and charm to bend fate to his will, to get the entire student body bow under his heels. Wellesley was a lawful man, and the image of Napoleon pulling on the faculty's rein disturbed a part of his rationale.

Another sick part directed him to play the hero and aid Bonaparte from the shadows, acting as the righteous voice of reason for the hotheaded prodigy. It led them both on a campaign to install Bonaparte as president of the Student Board, with Wellesley by his side as his vice president.

But dreams remained dreams as the once-promising Corsican grew more and more yielding to his pet. The slag who poured poison into Bonaparte's ears and leading him to gradually abandon their grand pursuit.

Oblivious to the man in question himself, Wellesley and de Beauharnais engaged in a secret battle over Bonaparte's time and focus. 

(But this was a lost cause, that much Wellesley eventually came to understand. He became more of a stranger to Bonaparte than when they first met.)

What was he to Bonaparte, anyway?

Now and then, there seemed to be a distance that Wellesley could never cover. They started unaware of each other's presence, with him only catching rumors of a gifted, older student despite being in the same year. When he first met Bonaparte, they were introduced by a senior whom he admired greatly.

The senior never stopped heaping praises on Bonaparte. Despite his shy and (sickeningly) humble facade, there was a sharpness that reminded Wellesley of a hawk's. 

Fate seemed to enjoy toying with Wellesley, for Bonaparte was every bit the kind of person he wanted to avoid, but endured anyway. He loathed how the man effortlessly wormed his way into everybody's heart, making them nod and listen to his whims. 

At the same time, Bonaparte was... intimidating, for a better lack of words. His formidability was a razor-sharp edge to anyone who dared to even think about harming him in the slightest.  

Hell, he just knew Bonaparte could make the Dean himself cry if he wanted to.

Wellesley supposed he was lucky (and somewhat offended) that the star of the campus deigned to welcome him into his circle. The British was never comfortable surrounded by his irritating, mooching lackeys. They were an eyesore, though he was smart to feign friendliness.

What mattered most was Bonaparte. And it was rewarding, bargaining for an ally, and getting a friend instead. He understood what his juniors saw in Bonaparte. The man offered kindness and comfort his family seldom gave.

(Brotherly affection wasn't something he'd pin on his relationship with Bonaparte or the man with anyone else for that matter. His warmth filled more than just the void often left vacant by his siblings. And judging from Lanne's adoration that veered on lovesickness, Wellesley wasn't the only one).

A shame he decided to let the har— woman into his life. 

For Bonaparte’s sake, Wellesley had willingly been turning a blind eye on gossip surrounding the campus' so-called femme fatale, along with talks of de Beauharnais seemingly derailing Bonaparte from their campaign.

That is, until the very same senior who had introduced the two men voiced the same concerns.

Very little could shake the adamant Wellesley, yet the possibility of losing Bonaparte was enough to cause him to lose sleep for days on end. He hated it. He hated how the man could go on his way with his squeeze and not realizing it would mean the end for Wellesley.

The end of them.

I built and shaped him into the way he is, Wellesley mused. Yet you unmade him, bent, and folded him into something I never hoped to see.

Growing weary of his thoughts, Wellesley fished out his earphones from his pocket and shoved them roughly into his ears. He'd rather listen to some criminal psychologist talk murder than indulging his brain into committing further character assassination.

Terrible thoughts are ugly upholstery in a passenger car, and you can't run around trying to remove them from the entire train if you want to get to the next station.

But if Wellesley had a choice, he'd rather burn them down.

This was supposed to be short and sad but it turned longer and angrier the more I wrote through Wellesley’s POV. This turned out so vitriolic and I’m sorry.

You either live long enough to be Napoleon's longtime friend or turn into one of his bitter exes. There is no middle ground. 

Tagging @batteryrose (in case you want to see Wells being a petty ex), @kisara-16, @thedollarstoresatan, @ikesensrandomninjagirl24​, @hokkaido-the-hellbeast, @nafeary, @thesirenwashere 

(Please notify me if you’re interested in seeing more Napolington works)

#ikemen vampire #ikevam napoleon #ikevam wellington #napolington #ikevam fanfic #requests #this isn't angst this is outright anger

[nymeriasutcliff]

AureliusAurelius, WTF this I just watch?

I saw Fantastic Beasts 2 yesterday and I gotta say I am very, very disappointed, which is the total opposite of my feelings towards the first movie. I'm gonna talk (a lot) about every character and the things that didn't work for me, so... BEWARE, SPOILERS AHEAD.

We're gonna start with Newt, given that he is (supposedly) the protagonist of the movies. I think he was okay, not great like in the first movie, but he didn't have a lot of room to do things and be himself, so okay is fine. He is basically a pawn under Dumbledore, but he gets so frustrated because he knows he wants to do want Dumbledore says, even though he shouldn't, that it's very funny and very relatable. I absolutely loved the first scene with his creatures, seeing him chasing after baby nifflers was very funny and held the promise of more fun coming (spoiler, the delivery was meh). I absolutely, absolutely loved the kelpie. It was so, so, so beautiful and amazing, but we'll talk more about the creatures later.

I was really astonished with the young actor they casted to play Young Newt because he was spot on. Truly. Standing ovation to the young man.

Even though I really liked Newt and his portrait, my question is (and is one I'm gonna be repeating very often, sadly), what was the point of Newt in the movie. What was he supposedly doing in Paris? I mean, what was the point of him going? Was he supposed to find Grindewald? Help Tina find Credence? Find Queenie? Because he did none of these things. The only thing he did was use the Niffler as a police dog - kudos to Cecil, (I don't know why I thought he was called Cecil, but apparently not. Well, I don't care is a cute name for a Niffler)-, lick the floor and have a very awkward and cute romantic moment with Tina at the worse time and place, but did whatever. Oh, and the innecesary family and love drama 

Oh Jacob and Queeni, what did they do to you two? Where was the funny and charming man of the first movie? Where was the sweet, caring, sensitive and daring lady we all loved? I think JK dind't know what to do with these two, and she tried to create drama for the sake of drama, and it shows. Jacob recovered his memories because there weren't bad memories (I'm okay with that), but Queenie has enchanted him because they can't get married (Really? Queenie? It's so OOC it's not even funny. And if you're gonna do that, at least you could've make Queenie selfish and that she simply enchantes him while he remembers nothing, because she wants to be with him. I think it would have worked better with the Queenie plot twist). So, after they go to visit Newt who knows why, because supposely they want to go to Paris to get married, so it simply doesn't make sense that they go to see Newt, when a) Queenie knows he is gonna see through the enchantement (which he does), and b) he's gonna be against it and will try to lift it (which he also does). C'mon Queenie, you're smarter than that!

Long story short, they argue, Queenie runs to Paris to be with Tina without telling his sister (logic not found, cause everyone knows that Paris is a very small city and you can find whoever you wanna find in 10 minutes tops); and the work of Jacob is finished in this movie. Not, really. He doesn't do anything else except for a very funny moment with Flammel. There's even a moment at the Lestrange mausoleum when he disappears in thin air and reappears when the plot needs him... (He arrives way before the rest and does who knows what until the plot needs for all to go inside for the speech. C'mon.)

And Quennie of course can't find his sister in Paris (no shit Sherlock), gets overwhelmed, finds Grindewald's skull french lady (yes, I'm calling her that), meets Grindewald, has a moment of “OMG, OMG, OMG, you're really bad”, he tells her that “love is love, right?”, and she decides that “OMG, this is a very nice young man, not the maniac genocide that everyone says. I mean, in his speech he only says that muggles are less, but obviously he's gonna let me marry my muggle boyfriend.” Really? Really? It just doesn't work. No. Not with Queenie. It's like JK Rowling totally forgot about the character she created in the first movie. I want my sparkly and caring Queenie back dammit.

Leta, Theseus and the whatever fuck their story was supposed to be about. Once again, the big question, what was the point of Leta and Theseus in this movie? Why does the wizard community hate Leta so much? Since when does McGonagall a) exist at that time (I saw that Rowling deleted McGonagall's birth date from Pottermore because she fucked up), and b) run after a student? Seriously? Who was the writer of this movie again?

Going back to Leta. Yes, yes, she is beautiful, has amazing hair, awesome clothes, on flick eyebrows, is very sad and has the lamest fiancé in history. Were we supposed to care about the family drama? Really? Were we supposed to care about the calamari guy? Or this was just another way to show us that the Lestrange family is bad? I don't know. I think this plot would have worked better without the calamari guy (because he contributes 0) and if Corvus was really alive. But, whatever. And last, but not least, what was the point of sacrificing herself? For what? That she was depressed and that was the easiest way to kill herself? That's the only explanation I have. Once again, the drama for the drama. (See the “I love you” while she looks at the Scamander brothers)

And Theseus, aside from being bland as fuck, is a fucking awful auror. In the first movie the moto was that if you see Grindewald is a matter of national security and he has to be detained, but in this movie Theseus says “don't arrest him if he doesn't do anything, because giving a speech it's not a crime.”  ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? ARE YOU DUMB OR SOMETHING? Jesuschrist.....

Eh.... what did Tina do in the movie? Was she concerned about her sister? Not one bit, she's perfectly fine with her joining a lunatic's army. Was she concerned about Credence? Even less, because when they find him she doesn't even talk to him (even though she was in Paris for him and, let's not forget, got demoted in the first movie for protecting him). The only thing she is concerned about is Newt and Leta and their engagement. Sigh another good female character lost in the claws of drama for the drama and being the love interest.

We're getting towards the end and the parts I am most angry about.

Dumbledore and Grindewald, I'm still mad that they aren't gonna give us the gay couple we deserve, but whatever, fuck JK, fuck Warner and fuck everyone. Once again, the famous question, what was the point of Dumbledore in this movie? Was showing us that he's a fine and dazzing wizard with an increible taste in fashion? Because if it was, they did perfectly. If it wasn't, I don't know what it was. They didn't give us a love story between them, the Ministry was once again against Dumbledore because of reasons unknown (politicians being incompetent, I see what you did there JK) and he didn't even try to do anything. I don't know, the only thing I truly know is that I'm disappointed, and that he did a sexy blood pact (yep, I'm calling it that) with Grindewald. Oh, I also found out that he has disgusting taste in men. C'mon, Grindewald? Have you seen his hair? Tsk Dumbledore, I expected better.

Grindewald, like everyone in the movie didn't do a lot, but I didn't care that he didn't. Probably because he is a sassy diva and used the good silk to call his followers. Also, I think the movie was called “The crimes of Grindewald”, right? What are those crimes? The bad hair? I can understand it. Using the good silk to call the followers? Understandable too, because it's gonna be a bitch to clean. The people he killed? Ehm..... nobodies none cared about. A kind of nazi but not really speech? Meh. Tricking Credence? Expected. Convincing Queenie to join the dark side? This one I believe. C'mon, make me a good villain in the third movie JK.

Nagini.............................................. if there's one thing that I was really excited about and disappointed me terribly was Nagini. What was the point of all the hype and backlash the trailer generated if Nagini did nothing in the movie? I truly don't know what was her point in the story. I believe she talk four time tops. Once again, JK being politically correct starring minorities, but not really, because they never do anything. And related to her is Credence, who is my favourite character of the series and the real protagonist. How did he end up in Paris? How did he learn to control de Obscurial? How did he end up with Nagini? Sigh...

After seeing the trailer I thought the movie was going to show us that the Obscurial end up in Paris by chance, and Nagini found him and given that she also has a beast inside, taught Credence how to control it. I don't something with a little bit of logic, an explanation and also giving Nagini some kind of point in the movie. (Apart of showing us the amazing leg she has).

The creatures: I think, except for the Niffler, the only reason they appear is because the movie is called “Fantastic beasts”. In the first movie the creatures (see Frank, the Niffler, the Swooping evil) played a very important part in it, but in the second one? What was the point of the creatures, except for the use of CGI? Except the Niffler, who is the hero of this movie for me, because he did the most (steal the sexy blood pact and be a damn awesome police dog).

I absolutely loved the Thestrals (they are my favourite fantastic beast ever), I laughed a lot when Grindewald named his Chupacabra “Antonio”, the baby Nifflers were the cutest, the kelpie was a thing of dreams, and the zouwu was very beautiful, but did they have a point? Not really.

My biggest problem with this movie is that it has the pace of a book, and it shows, which per se is not bad, but it doesn't work for a movie. It's like the first half of the book when the boring things happen and they're the preparation for the awesome second half. In a book I can get behind it, in a movie? Not so much. I believe Rowling tried to tell many stories (love triangle between Leta and the Scamanders, love drama between Tina and Newt, Lestrange family drama, love drama between Queenie and Jacob, Credence finding his family, Grindewald, dramadrama between Albus and Grindewald, political drama) in very little time and ended up telling nothing (at least telling it right). I hope AureliusAurelius (I have to laugh with this telenovela plot twist) and the Niffler realize that they are the best of the movie, and go back to New York to be a big happy family with Percival Graves (Gradence for life). Maybe Nagini can go with them and be the awesome character I believe it is.

PD: Shout out to Nicolas Flammel and his little running. He stole my heart. I read somewhere that people ship Albus and Flammel and I'm all for that. (If someone has the gif of him running, pleeeeeease send it to me, I need it in my life).

#fantastic beasts and where to find them #credence barebone #credence/graves #gradence #newt scamander #leta lestrange #tina goldstein #queenie goldstein #jacob kowalski #albus dumbledore #albus x gellert #grindewal #crimes of grindlewald spoilers #niffler #nagini #disappointed

[draconicthorns]

PSA

H-Hewwo everybody I’m so sad that there’s been no Camilla news recently. My life is hollow with how irrelevant she is right now! Gosh, if only something major Camilla wise had happened last night...

Oh yeah. CYL.

Any time a new Camilla alt comes out, there’s a fair amount of backlash. And I don’t just mean “oh, I wish such and such character without an alt got it instead”. Whilst a lot of you know I hated the hot springs Camilla and banner in general the hate can go really overboard in terms of attacking her as a character, or more importantly, her fans.

I’ve not seen any problems on the dash yet, though that may be due in part to my being busy today, as well as sickness naps. I am well aware of some of the comments in the CYL tag, however, and I don’t dare go into Camilla’s today.

I’ve engaged in arguments on the dash defending Camilla before, to varying degrees depending on the alt. However, these were all in circumstances where the backlash was a bit more understandable to begin with and also, I wasn’t recovering from an illness.

I may be biased, but I believe brave!Camilla to be completely fair. IntSys has no control over the votes, so this is genuinely what fans want regardless of the number of alts she already has. It would be a slap in the face to have removed her from the polls, especially as a brave unit would be incredibly different bolverik Camilla to the alts she already has in terms of style i.e. fanservice.

So yeah. This was a fair vote, rather than IntSys deciding we need another alt. If I do see any outright hate about the outcome, that’s really going to feel like an attack on her fans. Some of you know I have a very personal reason for feeling attached to Camilla, which relates to my disability, so yeah I really would appreciate not having to deal with negativity.

If the brave alt is sexualised for no good reason, I’ll be salting then as well, since brave units have all had really cool concepts behind them so far. But for now, it would be nice to keep the dash clean.

So here’s my stance. I have not seen any hate yet, but if I do, there will be an instant unfollow.

 I don’t mean a comment like: “Oh, Anna’s votes being split was unfair! She might have overtaken Camilla if they were merged.” as that is a valid criticism. I voted for Zeke from Echoes, but wasn’t sure if I should go for Camus instead. I get it.

I mean: “Ugh people only voted for that big titted bimbo because of fanservice!!!”

Yes, I have read that actual description of Camilla from a mutual in the past. Naturally, we aren’t mutuals anymore, given it was this blog they followed. Whether I’ll enforce this on my other blogs is to be decided, but it’s a bit odd to follow a Camilla if you hate her so much.

Sorry if this seems unnecessary or pretentious, but I’m really tired of the Camilla hate, on my Camilla dash, and feel like I need to say this preemptively. I dreaded CYL because I knew there’d be hate regardless of if she won or even just came close. To everyone who didn’t want her to win, but are being respectful, I’m genuinely grateful to you. There are characters I’m not a fan of that I believe have too many alts and don’t get as much hate but try to keep that to myself, or to private servers/dms. So I do appreciate anyone who shows the same respect for Camilla’s fans.

Thank you for reading this!

#psa #basically #please don't put stuff on the dash that attacks camilla or her fans #unless it is a genuine comment about a flaw in the cyl system as there are some

[bloggerblagger]

78) A lifetime’s secret revealed at last.

I have a confession to make. Something I have bottled up for 50 years and more. One of those dirty secrets that dare not speak its name.  Stand by to be shocked.

I. Like. Musicals.

There. I’ve said it. Phew..blimey….you just don’t know what a relief that is.

And now that I’ve finally got that much out, I’d better get it all off my chest.

When I was seventeen, the film of the Rodgers and Hammerstein musical, ‘The Sound of Music’ came out - to coin a phrase - and I went to see it about five times. At least.

I remember going on my own to the Regent Cinema  by the Clock Tower in Brighton to revel in my guilty pleasure. I had a crush on Charmian Carr, who played the eldest Von Trapp  daughter, Lisl - as in ‘I am sixteen, going on seventeen’.

It was the beginning of the end of the era of the musical and people of my generation were definitely not supposed to like them. They represented everything that the baby boomers were determined to reject.

It was 1965, and the Beatles and Stones and Dylan were all up and running - and I with them. In 1964, my last year at Brighton Grammar School,  I used to sit next to a chap called Phil Sutton for GCE history and most ‘lessons’ were spent arguing about whether the Stones or the Beatles were better. He was an early Stones fan, I was with the Beatles. At the time it seemed impossible, but I was living proof it was possible to like both  ‘she was just seventeen, well, you know what I mean’ AND ‘you are sixteen going on seventeen’.

Not that I would ever had admitted that to Phil.

The wilderness years.

At best, musicals  were thought us of camp and quaint. At worst, as silly and saccharine and hopelessly out of date, and, damned to hell by that most scathing of put-downs - uncool.

Although fast withering on the vinyl, it wasn’t quite the end of the musical. At least two of the very best came after -  ‘Oliver’, 1968, and ‘Cabaret’ 1972. And every so often, there was an exception  to the rule that musicals were cinematic history -  ‘Chicago’, ‘The Rocky Horror Picture Show’, ‘Sweeney Todd’, ‘Mama Mia’ come to mind. (Though ‘Mama Mia’, because it was a juke-box musical,  doesn’t really count for me.)

There were, too, Milos Forman’s version of  ‘Hair’, a film that seems to have been largely forgotten but which I remember as liking a lot; and ‘Fame’ and ‘Evita’ which had their moments; and ‘Grease’ which was a million times repeated joy for my daughter if not for me; and, more recently, ’Les Miserables’ which, with its silly operatic pretensions and monotonous dirgey music proved there is always an an exception to every rule - it was the one musical I really, really didn’t take to.

But when you consider the vast number of films pumped out in the nearly half a century since the sixties,  the musical as a Hollywood species, if not exactly endangered, was rarely spotted, and, during that long winter, those of us who secretly loved them have had to be very, very  careful not to be caught saying so for fear of being thought of as crazy or weird or worse, gay. (For a bloke, admitting to  liking musicals has been particularly difficult. They have been seen not just as unfashionable, but almost unmanly.)

Click here to drop jaw.

But adore them I secretly did. My absolute favourite piece of film ever is Donald O’Connor singing ‘Make ‘Em Laugh’ from ‘Singin’ In The Rain’. Pure untrammelled genius. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SND3v0i9uhE  I defy you to watch this and not be awestruck. I have counted only nine ‘cuts’ in this piece of film of well over four minutes of the most complicated, intricate dancing and slapstick comedy. I wonder what it must have been like to have been there on the set to witness, ‘live’, such astonishing virtuosity.

Watch too, the movement of the camera - panning along, tracking in and out,  jibbing up and over. Each movement must have involved several people working on camera equipment much cruder than we have today; everything and everyone as perfectly and painstakingly rehearsed as the performance they were shooting. And then these two halves - performers on one side of the camera and crew on the other - fitting together to make a seamless, stunning whole.

‘My Fair Lady’, ‘West Side Story, ‘Damned Yankees’, and all those Fred and Ginger musicals on telly, I lapped them all up. And  I always loved almost any Rodgers and Hammerstein musical - ‘Oklahoma’, ‘Carousel’, ‘South Pacific’. At the heart of any musical has to be the music and the music was magical. ‘Oh What a Beautiful Morning’, ‘June is Busting Out All Over’, ‘Surrey with the Fringe on Top’, ‘A Cockeyed Optimist’…To me, they are all gems, wonderful hummable tunes with with witty, tricky lyrics that fit that them so perfectly they feel as though there could never have been any alternative.

And every so often the songs in musicals are are more than just hummable and witty;  they can, occasionally, be truly profound. Not for the first time in BloggerBlagger I refer you to the scarily stirring and simultaneously horrifying ‘Tomorrow Belongs to Me’ from Cabaret. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=29Mg6Gfh9Co

La La Land to the rescue.

Despite all this great stuff,  for all these years it simply   hasn’t been okay to admit to being a fan of the musical.

I remember going to the NFT not so long ago to see a screening of ‘Kiss Me Kate’, Cole Porter’s 1953 work of wonder. (If you think I am exaggerating check out ‘Brush up your Shakespeare’ - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bPduoU826ew) Post modern irony was all the rage and I got really hacked off at a couple of smart-arses sitting behind me who were clearly of the mind that it was okay to laugh at the film but not with it. Twats, I thought, pathetic.

But the truth is I was no better than the rest. That I have framed this piece as a confession, albeit supposedly ironically,  is proof of that.

And, of course, what gives me permission to now confess is ‘La La Land’. Suddenly it seems post-modern irony is dead and in post-post-modernism it is okay to admit to liking a musical. The musical is, believe it or not, almost cool.

I say ‘almost’ because I think some of the supposed backlash to the critical enthusiasm for ‘La La Land’ has been the reaction of people who can’t quite get their heads around the idea that, after decades of being programmed to dismiss musicals as being embarrassingly passé,  they are now supposed to embrace them.

Not that I am without the odd nagging doubt myself. Although, broadly speaking,  I liked ‘La La Land’, and  grateful as I am for its crucial role in bringing the musical back into the zeitgeist, I do have some issues with it. The singing and dancing are manifestly not in the same league as in the good old days, and the music, though pretty enough, is unlikely to make into the great American songbook.

I have read that the  flaws in technique - Ryan Gosling is very obviously no Fred Astaire  - were deliberate, or, at least, that perfection was never the intention. In a sense, or so I believe the theory goes, the amateurishness is an essential part of  the updating of the form; that a Marni Nixon would never have been asked to redub  Emma Stone’s singing (à la Natalie Wood in West Side Story) because in 2017 the authenticity is what makes it work. I have to say  it is a theory that I don’t quite understand and that, personally, I would have preferred it if Ryan’s dancing had looked a little more fluid.  

However I refuse to  countenance any criticism of  Emma Stone, no matter how tremulous her voice. I fell for her completely and utterly.  

*Charmian Carr, move over.  

*(A possibly inappropriate expression since she died last year.)

POST SCRIPT 

Since I wrote this, a couple of readers (Dawn Culmer and Allan Gold)  have pointed out a couple of glaring omissions of mine from the pre-sixties period, ‘Guys and Dolls’ and ‘High Society’. Click here to see  what I missed,

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g6Umq4dK95c

And

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7kq1JQUhwVQ

Footnote on the rest of the Oscars

In 2014, ’12 Years a Slave’, you will remember,  won the best picture Oscar. There was never any doubt that it would. It had built up a critical head of steam through the year, told a story - the horrendous capture and re-enslavement of a previously freed black man  - that was bound to engage the sympathy of any awards voter, and was directed not by some tainted-by-trade  ex-commercials director like J C Chandor but by Steve McQueen, not just a movie director but an actual bone fide artist who had won the Turner Prize. It ticked every box.

I saw it at the London Film Festival in late 2013 and privately had my doubts - very impressive in parts, but some wooden dialogue, an unconvincing cameo by producer Brad Pitt as the only good white guy in it, and an oddly sanitised version of New York in the early 19th century.  

Still  the  awards tide was running in its favour and it was never going to be denied. ‘All is Lost’ the brilliant and effectively word-free Robert Redford one- hander about a lone yachtsman in crisis, a truly original piece, which was written and directed by the aforementioned  JC Chandor in the same year, didn’t make it on to any Oscar awards shortlist at all except for 'sound editing'. Talk about being damned by faint praise.

The next year came Ava du Vernay’s ‘Selma’,  another film about black issues and for my money a far superior one. I hate it when audiences clap at the end of films - seems absurd when there’s no-one to take a bow - but when John Legend’s closing song ‘Glory’ played I was so moved I really wanted to applaud.  If you haven’t seen ‘Selma’ you should. David Oleweyo does a fantastic turn as Martin Luther King.  But it didn’t win and I never thought it would. Two ‘black ‘ films were never going to carry off the Oscar in successive years. (The chorus  of the song goes, ‘One day when the glory comes, it will be ours.’ Sadly not for Ava, not just a black director but a black woman director.)

Then last year came the furore over the 2015 Oscars being almost exclusively white. And this year, at least partly as a reaction to that, the pendulum predictably swung back the other way and  no few than four films  dealing with American racial issues were in the running in one category or another - ‘Moonlight’, ‘Loving’, ‘Hidden Figures’ and ‘Fences’.

Of these, the one that received the least attention, ‘Loving’  - a best actress nomination for Ruth Negga was all it got - impressed me the most. Fascinating story, superb, restrained acting and noticeably fine photography.  ‘Moonlight’, on the other hand,  which  famously received the Oscar for Best Picture after the great presentation debacle,  left me pretty cold - as I saw it, a thin story that took a painfully long time to tell. As a tale of a young  man coming to terms with his homosexuality, I thought ‘Brokeback Mountain’ beat it into a cocked hat. (To coin another phrase.) Without all the Oscar fuss, I doubt more than three people outside London would have seen 'Moonlight’ in the Ukay. Now there will be a few thousand more, most of whom will leave the cinema scratching their heads.

Kenneth Lonergan, who wrote and directed ‘Manchester By The Sea’ looked to me distinctly unimpressed that his effort hadn’t won the big prize. Can’t say I blame him. It most definitely should have.

(If your life is so impoverished that you really have nothing better to do you, you can listen to a podcast of two of my erstwhile  colleagues from Colourful Radio and I discussing the Oscars at length. The level of debate will probably go a long way to explaining why we got chucked off. https://soundcloud.com/jammiemedia/sets/the-oggscars-2017 )