During lots of fighting scenes (in Rogue One : A Star Wars Story), did you have some cuts and bruises or did it just all went fine?
A little context:
Also:
There’s one reported occasion that confirms him being an efficient martial artist. According to news reports by Hong Kong news channels in the late 1990s, Yen was at a nightclub with his then girlfriend, Joey Meng. Inside the nightclub, Joey got harassed by a troublesome gang who had taken an interest in her. Yen warned them to leave her alone but to no avail. As Yen and Joey left the club, the gang followed and attacked Yen. According to the news, Yen beat up eight members of the gang who were hospitalized. This incident is still known in Hong Kong to this day – with people bringing it up in discussions concerning real fights as well as when comparing the practical fighting skills of various Hong Kong martial arts actors.
oh no, i don’t condone abusive relationships! i just write, reblog, and create art, fanfic, meta, gifsets, and other content that portrays an abusive relationship as sexy, attractive, ideal, and the only true choice for each character. most of the time i put them in happy aus or situations despite claiming that i only ship them because of the angst! that’s not condoning abuse, you silly antis!
this is giving me angry abuse apologist anons in my inbox please keep reblogging this i live on their tears
I am honestly fascinated to know what OP thinks of Brian Fuller’s Hannibal, both as a series and as a source of fanworks, given that its status as an adaptation arguably makes it a species of fanfic in its own right, too. Or Game of Thrones, for that matter.
I’m just… really, really flummoxed by the idea that creating something which features abusive/badwrong relationships is generally understood to be Drama provided it’s in some sense original, but if the same thing happens in fandom, then we somehow lose all ability to distinguish between depiction and endorsement.
This is just me spitballing, but I wonder if it has something to do with the fact that it’s frowned on in fandom – and with reason! – to offer criticism or critical analysis of individual fanworks, especially fics, so that a certain percentage of those thwarted critical impulses get redirected into generalised and vehement moral condemnation of specific ships and tropes.
Like: when it comes to books, comics, TV shows, games and films, the established culture of critical reception means that we’re usually able to criticise a specific narrative without being told that the very act of doing so is Mean And Unacceptable – and again, I completely get why fanfic has the conventions it does around unsolicited crit or analysis. But when it comes to analysing a given original work, regardless of the invariable disagreements about taste and whathaveyou, there’s a general critical ability to distinguish between such options as:
the author is deliberately and skilfully exploring darker themes in a way which I, personally, find fascinating
the author is deliberately and skilfully exploring darker themes which I personally, cannot enjoy
the author has attempted to explore darker themes but has, in my opinion, failed in a way that undermines their intentions
the author has, in my opinion, used darker themes without considering their implications within the wider narrative
the author has, in my opinion, used darker themes without considering their implications to particular readers
my knowledge of the author leads me, personally, to suspect that their uncritical use of darker themes is the result of, and therefore a testament to, their actual worldview
the author has stated clearly that their worldview informs the treatment of darker themes in their work, such that their depiction is, by their own admission, an endorsement of particular themes, though not necessarily specific acts contained in the work
All of which are really crucial distinctions to make, and just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to analysing a work which might delight and infuriate by turns. Which isn’t to say that there’s ever a fannish failure to apply these distinctions to original works, too: manifestly, once a particular work is branded Bad, then anyone who dares create fanworks of it is tarred with the same Bad brush. But when they are applied, which is most of the time, these are all distinctions predicated on the ability to distinguish and discuss an individual work in a critical or negative fashion – and in fandom, where works are produced predominantly for free, often by new or developing writers, often as a catharsis for personal trauma, often for an incredibly niche audience, and, crucially, very often in contexts where sexual fantasies, dark or otherwise, form the basis of what are otherwise in-depth narratives, this sort of specific criticism is not only difficult to make, but subculturally taboo.
So instead, people get worked up in general about individual ships or squicks or tropes that they dislike, especially when they appear in confluence – and again, I understand why! Because a fanwork, unlike an original story, is based on an existing narrative, which makes the creative distortion visible to readers. If someone takes what is canonically a happy, PG narrative and writes a dark, sadistic fic about the characters, it’s easy to feel that something innocent is being defiled; while on the other hand, if someone takes what is canonically a warped, abusive dynamic and reworks it as something light and fluffy, it’s similarly easy to feel as though they’re trying to exonerate or elide the original darkness, because why else would they bother?
In both cases, that angry, reactive feeling is easily intensified in a context where, once particular ships or fannish character interpretations become dominant in the minds of multiple fans, such that the thing being exalted is fundamentally separate to the source material – or, as just as often happens, is fundamentally separate to the preferred interpretation of the reactive person – then it’s easy to look at any and every reference to it, however brief, as lots of people saying, in shorthand, “I love and approve this awful, abusive concept because I think abuse is okay.”
But here’s the thing: people come to fanfic for all sorts of reasons, and they don’t owe you, personally, an explanation for their choices – because unlike, say, Guillermo del Toro, they are not public figures with a certain inherent degree of responsibility or accessibility to their readership. Among my friends who write fanfic, I know people who’ve written their own sexual assaults or rapes into fics as a way to help them process those experiences, or who write darkfic as a safe outlet for sexual fantasies they’d never want to actually try in real life (or who did try them, and had them go wrong, or who want to create a reality where all the bad things they’ve experienced are, in this fictional medium, wholly under their control, and not the control of the person/s who hurt them.) There are people who face their fears by putting them in fanfic. And on, and on, and on.
Are there also genuinely abusive people whose work reflects what they believe is okay IRL? Yes, there are; but that’s also true of people who create original works, not just fanfics (see: Woody Allen), and while we absolutely condemn those individuals when the truth comes out, we don’t respond by issuing a moratorium on any future stories containing elements favoured by the abuser, because regardless of the purity of your intentions, it’s pretty much impossible to say Thou Shalt Not Create This Particular Thing without simultaneously banning a lot of stuff that, actually, it would’ve been good to keep, because stories – and people, and stories about people – are just that complex.
Anyway. This kind of got away from me a bit, and like I said, this is just me theorising, but the more I think about it, the more I feel as if there really is a correlative relationship between fandom’s regular forays into total moral puritanism and its inability to offer criticism except at a general level.
More than 2,500 walkouts were planned across the country, according to Empower, the youth branch of the Women’s March that has been organizing the event.
Participants called for stricter gun laws as they also remembered the people who lost their lives in Parkland.
Many schools accommodated the demonstration. Others didn’t allow it, encouraging students to express themselves in ways other than walking out.
I put on my sunglasses, to hide my swollen eyes, over my tears. I cried all my makeup off. Went inside to have a milkshake. I don’t know why. I wanted something to drink as I figured out what I would do. I got a soda and a milkshake. Medium. The cashier looked at me and with a line around the corner of the counter he rushed away from the counter “Hold on “ he yelled to a coworker.
I filled my soda and went back and saw him looking all over. I go up and he gets close and says “I made it a large”.
That was seriously enough for me not to do it. His kindness. Someone went out of their way and as I went back in my car to cry I realized I could muster through a few other days. A few more weeks. Then I came down from that panicky high of anxiety, depression, and pain. I finished my shake. And it was enough time to let me feel better. I… I’m alive. I’ll make it through.
Try and be nice today. Tomorrow. Something as much as a smile. It helped so much.
Thank you man at McDonalds.
The milkshake saved my life
I hope you all can read this and remember to be kind
The smallest of gestures can save a life. My Mum answered her phone when I called and I am alive today because of that.
You were once the most powerful villain. You retired early and are engaged to a minor super hero who isn’t aware of your past. They are about to be killed right before your eyes..but you step in.
She asks him why maybe a dozen times before they decide to get married. It’s not hard to figure out where he goes in the little hours of the morning, not hard to follow him to the edges of forests and abandoned towns and deserts, not hard to smell the spandex, blood and sweat that he wears home. He’s always got bags under his eyes and dirt under his nails and the blood that stains their welcome mat is more often his than not.
So she asks him why before they decide to get married because for all her mysteries, she can’t have him be one.
(Hypocrite isn’t the worst name she’s ever been called.)
He hardly looks surprised at the question, lips quirking as his fingers find the condensation on the glass in front of him. He runs his forefinger up the side, the move thoughtlessly seductive, before drawing it away. The water follows, a thin stream of twisting molecules for a long moment before the tension snaps and it forms a circle hovering above the pad of his finger.
“I may not be a Superhero,” he says, “or even a hero. But when I needed someone, when I really needed someone, a superhero was there. It’s an amazing thing to experience. The rescue. The salvation. It’s…indescribable. It makes you thankful in way you didn’t know you could be.” He allows the water to drop to the diner table and gives her a warm, nostalgic smile. “I want everyone to have that, even if it’s just some guy in a mask with a spray of water at his command. I became Zone for that and I’ve never regretted it. Not once. ”
She’s surprised by the moisture gathering at the corners of her eyes. She hasn’t cried in public for years, normally doesn’t even have to worry about the possibility after years of being on guard. That’s what’s special about Gannon; he makes her feel vulnerable and safe all at once. Comforted. Able to exist within herself, at peace.
She reaches past her empty breakfast plate to cover his hand with her hot palm. The smile she returns is new, her most precious treasure and something she’d never think twice about giving him.
I knew that I wasn’t straight, but I didn’t know if I was gay, I didn’t know if I was bisexual – I didn’t feel comfortable having that conversation with myself. I was 20 when I came out the first time. It got to a point where I had fallen in love with a friend, and one of my other best friends had sort of noticed. And there were rumors going around in the dance world back home. It was breaking my heart. I was going crazy and I didn’t know what to do. I was lying and lying and lying, and doing everything I could to hold on to my secret. Because I hadn’t figured it out yet, and so it felt like everyone else was deciding it for me and they knew better than I did. It was really scary.