#wing-hang wong

[augustheir]

The Killer (1989) dir. John Woo, cinematography by Peter Pau and Wing-Hang Wong

[fandomnerd9602]

Scarlet Delivery

a Scarlet Webs story

Wanda Maximoff x Spider-Man!Reader

Wanda was hyperventilating. Her cell phone was buzzing just waiting for you to pick it up.

“Hello?” You manage to answer.

“Detka, where are you?!” She managed to say in between her hyperventilating breaths.

“Currently…rush hour” you said sticking to the front of a police car. The perp was Mac Gargan. “You shouldn’t worry, baby. I’ll be there.”

“Promise?” Wanda said, tears streaming down her cheek.

“I promise.” A gunshot went off. You narrowly dodged a bullet, “gotta go. Hey! Can’t you see I was taking a phone call!?”

And with that you had to hang up and jump back into the fray. You hated having to do patrol without Wanda. But circumstances had changed the flow and now you were solo again. Nothing changes when you’re the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.

Meanwhile, Wanda’s tears were still flowing as a portal opened behind her. And out of the portal comes this universe’s Doctor Stephen Strange.

“It’s time,” he says gesturing for your lovey witch to follow. She does so, all the while hoping that you’d keep your promise.

You land on the hood of Mac Gargan’s stolen vehicle. “License and registration, sir?”

Blam! Another shot goes off, you jump onto the roof of the car. A couple more shots ring out. You dodge each bullet flawlessly.

“Can we wrap this up?” You mockingly whine, “I have prior engagements!”

You web up Mac and yank him out the car, webbing him to a nearby streetlight. The car barrels towards a nearby crosswalk where a little old lady with a Walker is currently trying to cross.

“Of all the times!” You jump onto the hood and spray it with various webs before jumping onto the back and yanking the car back with all your might, bringing the car to a dead halt mere inches from the elderly lady.

You give a quick salute and swing off. You knew the location. You knew where Wanda was gonna be. It was all a piece of cake right?

Well then came the Vulture. He tries to slice at you once, twice. “Not now Toomes! I have some place to be.”

“Yes. The morgue!” He tries slicing at you again. You swing thru Times Square and web the winged foe in a giant spider web.

“Yo! Spidey!” A citizen calls out to you.

“Yeah?”

“Where’s your lady? The Witch?”

“I’m trying to get to her now!” You call out before swinging off again into the city. Why did it have to be on the other end of New York?

You land on a rooftop. You quickly web a couple silk lines to your suit, forming a makeshift pair of wings.

“I’m coming Wanda,” you shoot out two web lines and slingshot yourself across the city. Catching a wind current, you sail thru the open air of the city.

You see your destination: the Sanctum Sanctorum. You dive bomb and land right in front of the building. Wong quickly answers the door.

“How far?” You ask.

“You made it just in time.” He smiles and leads the way. You nearly run the way to the little room.

You run in to find Wanda in a relaxed position, still hyperventilating. Nine months pregnant and she still looked beautiful as ever. Dr Strange was readying his medical scrubs.

“Detka!” Wanda exclaims, tears of joy streaming down her face. You run up to her, kissing her gently.

“I promised I’d be here, right?” You ask with a little smirk. Wanda giggles and kisses you again.

“Okay Wanda,” Strange intones, “it’s time. Now push.”

“Sure you got this, Doc?” You ask.

“It’s not surgery. I’m just catching the babies. I won’t drop them.”

“Drop them and I will kill you” Wanda say through gritted teeth.

“I believe you” Strange answers back. “Now focus and push.”

It ended up taking the rest of the day and into the night but Wanda delivered two healthy baby boys. You and her were so excited.

“My boys,” Wanda said with fresh tears streaming down her cheeks. “Billy. Tommy.”

“They’re amazing,” you kiss the top of Wanda’s head, “thank you baby.”

“Thank you. I love them so much already,” Wanda let out a little tired laugh. She actually had her boys in her arms. This wasn’t some conjured up version of them. This wasn’t some other universe’s version of them. This was them, flesh and blood. She had a loving spouse, two handsome little babies, a nice little home in Queens.

Wanda finally had the life she always wanted. And best yet, she got to have it with you, her Spider Monkey.

Tags: @tokufighter @ma1egamer @jacelion @lifespectator @aloneodi @holiday-house-of-m @family-house-of-m @multi-fandom-enjoyer @iamnicodemus @rroyale-109 @scarletquake-n7 @moonpheus

[nine-frames]

英雄本色 (yīngxióng běnsè / A Better Tomorrow), 1986.

Dir. John Woo | Writ. John Woo, Chan Hing-kai & Leung Suk-wah | DOP Wong Wing-hang

[99snse]

BANNED FCS ⸻ updated, 11/20/23

disclaimer: this list should not be taken as a matter of my own opinion. each individual listed has a source attached for your own education and should be carefully considered in all of your fc choices. if you feel as if any individual has been mistakenly listed here, please feel free to reach out to me privately to discuss the circumstances surrounding their placement. ultimately, i did not create this list as a means of causing negatively, but it is much more important that we hold each other accountable and i hope to provide a running list of fcs that would be inappropriate or otherwise problematic for usage.

BANNED FOR: ABUSE

BANNED FOR: SEXUAL MISCONDUCT

Kim Ji-soo (actor), bullying & alleged sexual misconduct (source)

Jung Joon-young, Burning Sun scandal (source)

Choi Jong-hoon, Burning Sun scandal (source)

Lee Seung-hyun (Seungri), Burning Sun scandal (source)

Lee Jong-hyun (CNBLUE), Burning Sun scandal (source)

Kim Hyung-jun, alleged sexual misconduct (source)

BANNED FOR: APPROPRIATION/RACISM

Wendy Son, perpetuating racial stereotypes (source)

Kwon Ji-yong, blackface to imitate Trayvon Martin (source)

Shin Dong-hee (Shindong), blackface to imitate Oprah (source)

Kim Kang-hoon (Yesung), blackface to imitate Nick Fury (source)

Lee Gi-kwang, blackface/perpetuating racial stereotypes (source)

Kim Jong-dae, blackface to imitate a racial caricature (source)

Yoon Bo-mi, blackface to imitate a racial caricature (source)

Jackson Wang, appropriation & ignorance of black protective hairstyles (source)

BANNED FOR: EXPRESSED DISCRIMINATION

Henry Lau, homophobia & transphobia (source)

Park Jeong-soo (Leeteuk), fatphobia (source)

Shin Dong-hee (Shindong), fatphobia (source)

Choi Si-won, homophobia & transphobia (source & source)

Kim Kang-hoon (Yesung), fatphobia (source)

Amber Liu, instances of expressed racial prejudice in response to police brutality (source)

Jessica Ho, allegations of assault (charges dropped), homophobia, usage of slurs (source & source)

BANNED FOR: GROSS/QUESTIONABLE BEHAVIOR

Kim So-won, "misunderstood" the significance of Nazi symbolism (source)

Wong Kun Hang, weird comments about dreadlocks (source)

Yong Jun-hyung, Burning Sun involvement (never prosecuted)

Roy Kim, Burning Sun involement (never prosecuted)

Eddy Kim, Burning Sun involvement (never prosecuted)

Kim Young-woon (Kangin), present in voyeurism chatroom (source)

Jeong Jin-woon, present in voyeurism chatoom (source)

Lee Chul-woo, present in voyeurism chatroom (source)

Son Chae-young, "misunderstood" the significance of Nazi symbolism & right-wing conspiracy group QAnon (source & source)

BANNED FOR: SUPPORT OF OPPRESSION/GENOCIDE

Liu Yifei, support of police brutality during Hong Kong protests (source)

Donnie Yen, support of Chinese Communist Party (source)

Fan Bingbing, support of Chinese Communist Party (source)

Jackson Wang, support of Chinese Communist Party & its use of forced labor in Xinjiang (source)

BANNED FOR: EXPRESSED DISCOMFORT WITH USAGE

Christian Yu

Park Sun-young (Luna)

Lee Ji-eun (IU)

BANNED FOR: MISC.

Kim Jong-hyun, passed away

Tany (Kim Jin-soo), passed away

Ahn So-jin, passed away

Go Eun-bi (EunB), passed away

Kwon Ri-se, passed away

Kim Dong-yoon, passed away

Seo Min-woo, passed away

Goo Ha-ra, passed away

Choi Jin-ri (Sulli), passed away

Moon Bin, passed away

Lee Ji-han, passed away

Im Na-hee, passed away

Park Soo-ryun, passed away

Jeong Joong-ji, passed away

Yoo Joo-eun, passed away

USE WITH CAUTION.

Jennie Kim, taking part in "The Idol"

Kim Min-gyu, general carelessness for perceived support of korean conservative party amid prior (unresolved) allegations of bullying, sexual misconduct, and misogyny (source & source)

Kim Tae-hyung, ignorance surrounding the cultural relationship between black hair & durags (source)

Lee Jeno, fatphobic comments (source)

Park Jisung, colorist & fatphobic comments (source)

Park Chanyeol, colorist comments (source)

[sobeautifullyobsessed]

Of Magic, Miracles, and Moonlight

a Stephen Strange x OFC Romance

genre: pre-Infinity War, slow burn romance, older man/younger woman, teacher/student to friends to lovers characters: Stephen Strange, Wong, Teyla of Hadeeth (OFC), Moraine of Hadeeth (OC), additional OCs as Kamar-Taj staff rating: general audience to begin with, later chapters will contain 18+ material

Ch.One | Ch.Two | Ch.Three | Ch.Four | Ch.Five | Ch.Six

Chapter Seven (ANGST, wherein Stephen experiences a guilt induced nightmare)

Stephen had suggested that they return to the Sanctum, hoping to allow Teyla a chance to process all that had happened, and to begin to grieve.  She had declined, her eyes brimming with determination and an eagerness to share with him, her happiest memories of her father.  He watched her move about the flat, while telling him a series of stories in a sort of stream of consciousness--leading him to realize that this was how she chose to mourn.  Eventually, she came to sit beside him on the sofa, her focus on showing him the contents of several photo albums encompassing the time she’d spent living with her dad.

In the quiet moments in between, Stephen sensed how desperately she was trying to fend off her heartbreak.  He hurt for her, but remained patient for the moment she might trust him enough to ask for what she needed.

As dusk colored the sky outside, Teyla located those pieces of her father’s work which he had saved for her, covered loosely in several layers of muslin cloth, waiting for her hand to reveal.  Worn and weary as she was, she found the fortitude to hang on just a while longer—though with each piece she unveiled, Stephen noted her tears remained barely in check

First there was a thick sketchbook that Charles had kept during the years that Teyla lived with him.  Much of its content was concerned with Teyla herself; studies of her at the breakfast table or amidst a pile of schoolbooks; sketches of her laughing, or at play; even a few which caught her sleeping--all of them created with a father’s loving eye.  Stephen enjoyed seeing this younger version of Teyla, imagining the daily joy she had brought to her father’s life.

There was a softly romantic portrait of Moraine in the nude, which Teyla explained had been painted early in their courtship; that the Artist was head over heels for his model was evident in every brushstroke.  A second painting depicted Moraine in the fertile bloom of pregnancy; set against the night sky, framed against an open window of a smaller apartment of decades ago, she was clothed in a translucent ivory nightgown, her hands resting protectively upon her protruding belly.  Stephen found it nothing short of breathtaking; a magnificently rendered image of womanhood in its unassailable glory, and beautiful with understated sensuality.

“You like this one,” Teyla observed quietly, but clearly proud of her father’s handiwork.

Stephen let out a low whistle, “This piece is amazing, Teyla. Your dad was a talented artist.”

Her voice caught a moment, but she readily agreed.

Two sculptures sat draped in linen slip cloths, lined with tyvek for extra protection from moisture; Teyla uncovered them reverently to reveal a bust of her mother—looking like some Grecian goddess—while the other captured Moraine with a wee Teyla.  Though made of marble, the piece was alive with their family bond, as mother bent low, cupping her daughter’s hands in her own, allowing both to study a small winged creature (Stephen’s mind insisted it was some sort of Hadeethan butterfly) which rested upon Teyla’s open palm.  “Fantastic,” he murmured.

“That he was,” she agreed, with a plaintive finality that voiced her sorrow.  A large, rectangular shape rested beneath the remaining storage cloth.  Teyla gasped as she slid the cloth away.  “I have…I have never seen this one…”  She bowed her head to hide the tears she could no longer hold at bay. 

Stephen draped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close.  She shivered against him. “He must have done this after I left Earth.  I wish…” Teyla sobbed, “I wish that I had known.”

This painting was unquestionably the finest of the works that Charles had set aside for his daughter.  A crowning achievement.  Teyla gazed wide-eyed at them from the canvas, her truth beautifully captured; the small curve of her smile, the soft fall of her hair, the unassuming kindness that lived in the depths of her doe-eyes.  She rested her chin against her palm, her hand angled so that the rich purple stone of her mood ring was visible.  She looked happy—and as though she knew the secret to happiness and would share it freely if only the viewer could awaken her image to speak aloud.  Walter Charles had painted the quiet miracle that had brought him fulfillment as no other soul in the world ever had, in a language that articulated his heart as no written or spoken word ever could.

Surely Teyla understood the image for all it had meant to her father.  She breathed hard several times, then made a desperate, strangled sound, before nestling her face in the crook of Stephen’s neck.   

The bitter taste of remorse filled his mouth, and Stephen’s hands flared with fresh spikes of pain, as he considered the talented hands that had created this striking portrait of a beloved daughter.  An artist’s hands that might have been given more time to share his talents with the world, if only a ‘hot-shot genius doctor’ had actually cared about the patients that had sought his help. The painting seemed infused with the soft light of her gentle spirit, imbued with all the love her father held for her.  An exceptional creation—and I failed the man without a second look back.

“I’m so sorry, Teyla,” he whispered, “So, so sorry.  I’d give anything to make this right…”

She was shaking her head against his words, “Please, Doctor, please just take me from this place.  I cannot bear this pain inside my heart.  I feel my father as though he is near, yet I will never hear his voice or feel the comfort of his embrace again.” 

“Of course,” he assured her, “Whatever you need, honey.”  He released her as gently as he could, to conjure a portal back to the sanctuary of Bleecker Street.

Understandably, Teyla had no appetite, but at Stephen’s stern insistence, she ate a little yogurt, and a few slices of mango, before retiring to the small room he directed her to for the night.  Though her body’s clock was still set to Kathmandu time—where it was early afternoon--he had a hunch he could coax her into some healing sleep.  Failing that, he would employ a small sandman spell, though that turned out to be unnecessary.

Feeling both the weight of his responsibility as her mentor, and the gnawing guilt that he might’ve made a difference in the quality and length of her father’s final days, Stephen sat at Teyla’s bedside, watching over her a while.  Watching as her breathing evened out and the lines of her body softened, knowing she had found the sort of solace—for a time—that he’d been unable to give her.  When satisfied she rested easy, he headed to his own room, planning to immerse himself in study, certain the peace of sleep would elude him—which was precisely as he deserved.

It was that same old dream again, but with a wicked twist.  He dreamed it far less frequently these days, and if he took the time to analyze just why, Stephen would realize it was because he had finally shed much of the guilt which he had carried for more than half a lifetime.  Accepting that he bore full responsibility for his horrific accident, facing his demons in the aftermath, and recognizing that his medical career had never been of one of true service to others, had been a struggle that rivaled the constant physical challenges presented by his ruined hands.  Only the enlightenment that had come to him with his studies in the mystic arts had enabled him to accept the truth about himself, humbling him and inspiring him to be a better man than ever in his life.

His dream-self stood—as he always did--on the shore of one of the smaller Fremont Lakes, drinking a can of Coors, laughing with his friends, and flirting with the prettiest of his sister’s high school classmates.  He was only weeks away from beginning freshman year, and Stephen had been thinking that a little fling with Chloe Butler might be the perfect way to end the summer before heading off to study medicine at Creighton University.  His sister Donna had swum out toward the the center of the lake, headed for the swim platform to bask in the afternoon sun—swimming as effortlessly as she’d done at least a hundred times before, and he frankly wasn’t paying much attention. He should have been; if he had been, he might have reached her minutes sooner, reached her in time to keep her from going under that last time.

In reality, he’d only heard her call his name once, but in the dreams, her frightened voice always carried across the water to him, repeatedly calling for help, calling his name, begging him to save her.  When he realized she was in trouble, he’d shucked off his scuffed leather boat shoes, the first of the young men on the narrow strip of beach to dive in, swimming frantically in her direction.  He was never to know for certain what had put her in distress; without a full autopsy (their mother couldn’t bear the thought of one), the best explanation they’d been given was a seizure of sorts, or something as innocuous as an ill-timed cramp.  And though his lungs burned with his effort to reach her, Stephen was still a dozen yards away when Donna sank below the surface with heartbreaking finality. 

In his dream, he relived again his frantic search for her in the dark depths of the lake, finally finding her, bringing her to shore, and breaking down after he was unable to resuscitate her.  But this time, instead of waking sweat-soaked and heart hammering the insistent beat of his failure and his guilt, the nightmare continued.  Though she was long dead and buried, Donna was there, in the flower of eternal youth, riding passenger with him in his Lamborghini Huracan.  You failed me, Stephen, she intoned, her eyes flashing with bitter accusation; you were my older brother and you were supposed to look out for me, but you failed miserably; and as the rain began to pound the windshield, she questioned him without remorse:  how many others did you fail in your egotistical short sightedness?   

Stephen faced her, helpless to change the past, knowing his own fate was already sealed; in moments would come the crash and his car would hurtle off the road, breaking his hands beyond repair, robbing him of the life he’d worked so single-mindedly to establish for himself.  You failed me, Stephen, she repeated, as you always fail the ones in greatest need…and just before the collision, Donna’s face transformed, and she was Teyla, but not angry--only sad, her indictments delivered quietly, regretfully, with a tenderness that matched her spirit in the waking world.  You failed him, Stephen Strange; a better man might have saved my father.  Somehow her words stung even more, for the gentle way in which she delivered them.  You were ever selfish, and blind to the needs of others, so perhaps there is some justice in your fate, after all.  And then she was gone, as his car spun and spun, and the pain was excruciating, and he knew in that moment that he deserved the pain, he deserved to have his old life ripped away…and if he spent a hundred years expunging his guilt through selfless service, he could never erase the misery, the loss, the deaths, of those he’d failed.  His dear, doomed sister.  Walter Charles, and those patients, who, like him, were not challenge enough to merit his valuable time and attention.  And now, his gentle Teyla…

“Stephen”.  Softly, yet urgently, spoken. “Stephen, you must awaken.”  A concerned, familiar voice, summoning him away from his pain and self-recrimination.  Pulling him from the depths of his dream.  A hand—her hand--upon his shoulder, soft but insistent, lightly shaking him back to consciousness.

“Teyla,” he murmured, still caught in the nightmare.  He needed to tell her.  Wanted to, but that would only bring her pain.  “Teyla…”

“Yes, I am here,” she answered, “I am here, Stephen.  Open your eyes.  See me beside you and know that all is well.”

His eyes fluttered open, unable to focus at first, and his heart was pounding, just as it always did in the wake of that nightmare.  Her hand on his cheek was soft and cool, her face hovering above his quietly merciful, the ends of her hair just brushing his skin. Teyla of Hadeeth.  How was she here, sympathetic as she tried to soothe him, the embodiment of clemency when he deserved only her scorn?  “Teyla?” he whispered, wondering if she was just the remains of his dream, and would vanish like mist if he dared to trust she was real.

“Yes, Stephen,” she answered patiently, “Leave those painful memories behind.  You must not torment yourself so.” Despite the grief he knew dwelled in her heart, her focus seemed to be solely on comforting him.  

“I was dreaming,” he rasped, feeling he ought to explain, and hoping he didn’t appear as weak as he felt.

“I know,” she told him, the calm of her voice and in her touch beginning to banish the anguish that had enveloped him.  “I dreamt as well, Stephen.  I saw enough to know, and I felt your distress, and now I am here because you are more than worthy of mercy—but such mercy must begin with yourself.”  She laid a hand over his heart, and an unexpected warmth spread through his chest.

Amazed at her perception, Stephen searched her eyes, reading her sincerity, unbelieving that redemption could be so easily gained.  He shook his head to clear away the vestiges of his nightmare, sitting up against the headboard.  He laid his hand atop hers, swearing he could feel the beautiful life force that inhabited her slender form.  “Teyla,” he confessed, “If you knew the truth, you might not be so generous…”

Her eyes told him before she spoke, that she was well aware of the part he’d played in her father’s story. “I already know all that I need to know, Stephen.”  His given name upon her lips, spoken without a hint of her usual formality, was a balm against his shame.  “You have paid a heavy penance for your past mistakes; you need punish yourself no longer.”

Stephen breathed deeply and closed his eyes, feeling entirely unworthy of the absolution she was offering.  “Do you understand, Teyla?  Your own father…”

She cupped a hand against his cheek, silencing him with a wise, sweet smile.  “I assure you, Stephen—I understand it all…and I promise you that you are not the man you were in those days.”  He opened his eyes, finding only compassion in her own.  “You have become your best self, through trial and pain.  I swear that you are now the man you were destined to become…but you must forgive yourself--for that will finally free you from this burden of guilt that weighs upon you so.”

Though awestruck by her heart’s true generosity, Stephen suddenly felt tired enough to sleep for a week.  “Yes,” she smiled, relieved on his behalf, “You must rest a while now, and come the day this darkness will fade to naught.”  Come morning he would wonder too, if she’d worked some gentle magic by simple touch alone. 

At her prompting, Stephen slid back down onto his pillow, allowing her to tuck the blanket around him.  He caught her hand in his before she stood up to leave; she didn’t seem surprised.  “You are most welcome, Stephen Strange,” she told him, then headed to his door.

“Just tell me this,” he said, a ghost of his usual cheekiness restored, so that she turned back to him from the doorway, “How are you so young, and yet so wise, Teyla of Hadeeth?”

She raised a brow—quite insouciantly—and he saw in her a bit of Moraine’s regal bearing, as she proudly replied, “I am both my mother’s daughter, and my father’s child as well.  I dare to believe that the best of both of them have found their union in me.”  Teyla gave a little shrug, and left the room—though the surprising smile she left upon Stephen’s face lasted long enough to see him into a more peaceful sleep of his own.  

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[indefenseofkara]

MWII Operator headcanons: Specgru edition

Hello! I think the multi-player operators deserve more love, so here are some headcanons for the base Spegru team. This doesn’t included people who were in the campaign because there’s plenty of stuff about them already. The pictures are just screenshots of my game, lol.

Jesus “Chuy” Ordaz

(the COD blog post I’m getting some of these full names from says his first name is Manuel, but his bio says Jesus?)

has terrible handwriting

but as my poetry instructor once said, “the worse the handwriting, the better the work”

and he does write poetry

been through a lot, but still a romantic at heart

really great with kids

Gustavo “Gus” Rodriguez

you could not pay this man to shave his mustache

once he grew that mustache, he knew he could never go back

looks like a literal baby when shaved clean, like people will start asking "who let that preteen in here?"

really proud of his career and the fact that he gets to work with Special Forces since he’s not military (because technically there was no military for him to join)

will not bring up surfing, but has a bunch of cool surfing videos ready to go at a moment's notice. you know, just in case

Zhiqiang “Zimo” Wong

precious bean, i love him

cinnamon roll but serious

doesn't mean he can't be brutal, he is a soldier

kind of intense overall, which intimidates some people

really cherishes platonic relationships

movie buff who might smack you if you say you don’t watch foreign films because you don’t like reading subtitles

Kleópatros “Kleo” Gavras

(fuck, I accidentally deleted my notes on her. :( I’m sorry Kleo, I have to wing it!)

likes to dress up. will put on a whole fit and makeup just to hang around the house every once and a while

it's a nice contrast to her usual military get up

good at every sport

also very good a chess

Nila “Nova” Brown

really great eyesight

misses flying, tbh. jumps at the chance to do some piloting for a mission

seriously considered becoming an astronaut

worked with Kortac briefly, but changed to Specgru as soon as her initial contract was up

(that one’s a deep dive for anyone who remembers that she was a Kortac operator during the beta)

Sobiesław “Gromsko” Kościuszko

Polish pride (idk, everyone I know who is Polish or has Polish heritage is very proud of that)

plays some quirky instrument like the accordion or keytar or hurdy-gurdy

uses reading glasses

knits. while wearing the reading glasses. looks like a literal grandmother

Enzo “Reyes”

will never admit it as a proud Canadian, but he doesn't like hockey

a Swiftie

flirts with everyone

pansexual, so no one is safe

(that's a joke)

(I'm not trying to do the "bi/pan people are sluts" thing)

(I just think this man is attractive and charismatic)

(and wants to share that with the world)

(blame the Valentine's day skin)

Tse “Luna” Míngzhū

really amicable

will actually hit you up after saying "we should hang out some time!"

loves attending sporting events and cheers very loudly

it's not mentioned in her bio, but she grew up in Virginia, near Washington DC, so 9/11 probably had a big impact on her and her career choice

(pulling on my own experience for that one)

(not job experience, but growing up in DC suburbs when 9/11 happened experience)

lots of frustration with generic military gear because it's all way too big on her

Thanks for reading! My Kortac headcanon post can be found here.

[wearesorcerer]

1979

At first, I saw this and thought "YAY!" because there were some really good and relevant movies that came out that year. Upon closer inspection, though, those were highest grossing films, many of which weren't released in '79. I went digging through the lists of movies released in '79 (in all languages I could find) and picked through those I recognized. Here are the bits.

ALIEN

In space, no one can hear you scream.

[It's been long enough since I've seen the films that I can't filter full-grown xenomorph gifs as belonging to the first film vs. others and decided against gore, melted androids, and faces full of alien wing-wong, so no image for you.]

It's got everything: the woman is right, the plot gets kicked off because people don't listen to standard safety procedures, a fake-out about who the survivor would be (at the time; that's well spoiled now), the cat survives, H.R. Geiger aesthetics, corporate malfeasance, and betrayal, all in the course of reconstructing the haunted house horror movie style. I'm kinda glad that they got rid of the bit where the xenomorph cocoons and melts prey into its eggs to make a complete cycle (even if that makes less sense), since it's a little too gross.

I will say that I can't adequately compare it to the other major '79 horror films (The Amityville Horror and Dracula), as I haven't seen them. And don't care to.

Relevant to Your Blog: Castle of Cagliostro, Don Giovanni, Galaxy Express 999, Moonraker.

I have never read or watched anything involving Arsene Lupin -- and, until this year, thought the character was from some old anime/manga series I hadn't seen or read, given Miyazaki's involvement in this film (which I think is the film for a TV series). It's the one Ghibli-ish film I haven't bothered to try to watch. (I haven't made it through My Neighbors the Yamadas or Pom Poko, but I've otherwise watched them all.)

I only recently found out about this version of Don Giovanni, so it's on my list. I figure it's relevant to your blog because he's a rascal-type rogue, even if he's not a rogue by class.

Galaxy Express 999 has been on my watch list since Daft Punk released Interstella 5555, more or less: I recognized the classic anime character designs (and vaguely '70s get-ups), tracked down the animator, and found this title. The film's plot, surprisingly, deals with street urchins, theft, adventures, class, and paywalled immortality, so seems right up your alley.

...and I'm not big on 007, either. It's not that I don't like spies/rogues, it's that it's too much of a male power fantasy.

You can get back to me on those, I skuppose. ;)

Others: Apocalypse Now!, The Black Stallion, Monty Python's The Life of Brian, The Muppet Movie

I feel like because I never read Heart of Darkness (it was an optional text on some reading list in high school) and am kinda shaky in my knowledge of 'Nam (I have some background on Ho Chi Minh and Vietnam's struggles against its French colonial rulers and their subsequently-involved US allies, but not enough), so while I know this film has garnered lots of praise and was enjoyable, I don't feel comfortable recommending it without more context for analysis.

I have always confused The Black Stallion with Black Beauty, even though the former has always seemed (to me) to have a greater mystique to it. That's it; that's the only reason I note it.

If you haven't seen Life of Brian, do yourself a favor and watch it. If you have, do yourself a favor and watch it. Latin jokes, Christianity/cult/rebellion jokes, and penis jokes abound -- including full frontal nudity with (I'm assuming) a gag dick.

It's Tumblr; I can't not recommend Muppets. I'd be hanged.

[444namesplus]

Ba Ban Bang Be Ben Beng Bi Bia Bian Biang Bie Bien Bieng Bing Bio Bion Biong Biu Biun Biung Bo Bon Bong Bu Bun Bung Cia Cian Ciang Cie Cieng Cii Ciia Ciian Ciiang Ciie Ciien Ciieng Ciin Ciing Ciio Ciion Ciiong Ciiu Ciiun Ciiung Cio Cion Ciong Ciu Ciun Da Dan Dang De Deng Di Dia Dian Die Dien Dieng Din Ding Dio Dion Diong Diu Diun Diung Do Don Dong Du Dung Fa Fan Fang Fe Fen Fi Fia Fian Fiang Fie Fien Fieng Fin Fing Fio Fion Fiong Fiu Fiun Fiung Fo Fon Fong Fu Fung Ga Gan Gang Ge Gen Gi Gia Gian Giang Gie Gien Gin Ging Gio Gion Giong Giu Giun Giung Go Gong Gu Gun Ha Han Hang He Hen Heng Hi Hia Hian Hiang Hie Hien Hieng Hin Hing Hio Hion Hiong Hiu Hiun Ho Hon Hu Hun Jia Jiang Jie Jien Jii Jiia Jiiang Jiie Jiien Jiieng Jiin Jiing Jiio Jiion Jiiong Jiiu Jiiun Jio Jion Jiu Jiung Ka Kan Kang Ken Keng Ki Kia Kian Kiang Kie Kien Kieng Kin Kio Kiong Kiu Kiun Kiung Ko Kon Kong Ku Kun Kung La Lan Le Len Li Lia Lian Liang Lie Lien Lieng Lin Ling Lio Lion Liong Liu Liun Lo Lon Long Lu Lun Lung Ma Me Men Meng Mi Mia Miang Mie Mieng Min Ming Mio Mion Miong Miu Miung Mo Mon Mong Mu Mun Mung Na Nan Nang Ne Neng Ni Nia Niang Nieng Nin Ning Nio Nion Niu Niung No Non Nong Nu Nung Pa Pan Pang Pe Pen Peng Pi Pia Pian Piang Pie Pien Pieng Pin Ping Pio Pion Piong Piu Piun Piung Pon Pu Pun Pung Qa Qang Qe Qen Qeng Qi Qia Qian Qiang Qie Qien Qieng Qin Qing Qio Qion Qiong Qiu Qiun Qiung Qo Qon Qong Qu Qun Qung Ra Ran Rang Re Ren Reng Ri Ria Rian Riang Rie Rien Rieng Rin Ring Rio Rion Riu Riun Ro Ron Rong Ru Run Rung Sa San Sang Se Si Sia Sian Siang Sie Sien Sieng Sin Sing Sio Sion Siong Siu Siun Siung So Son Song Su Sun Sung Ta Te Ten Teng Ti Tia Tian Tiang Tie Tien Tieng Tin Ting Tio Tion Tiong Tiu Tiun To Ton Tong Tu Tun Tung Wa Wang Wen Wi Wia Wian Wiang Wie Wieng Win Wing Wio Wion Wiong Wiu Wiun Wo Won Wong Wu Wun Wung Xia Xian Xiang Xie Xien Xieng Xii Xiia Xiian Xiiang Xiie Xiieng Xiin Xiing Xiio Xiiong Xiiu Xiiun Xio Xion Xiong Xiu Xiung Za Zan Zang Ze Zeng Zi Zia Zian Ziang Zie Zieng Zin Zing Zio Zion Ziong Ziu Ziun Ziung Zo Zon Zu Zung

[film-compost]

"The Killer" (1989)

Directed by John Woo

Cinematography by Peter Pau and Wing-Hang Wong

[goalhofer]

2024 olympics Hong Kong roster

Athletics

Felix Diu

Badminton

Yiu Lee

Jordan Man

Happy Yan

Lianne Ting

Lam Yeung

Suet Tse

Cycling

Vincent Yau

Ceci Wing

Fencing

Hang Ho

Edgar Ka-Long

Vivian Wai

Daphne Chan

Gymnastics

Hung Shek

Judo

Lee Wong

Rowing

Chun Chiu

Sailing

Ching Ma

Yin Cheng

Sakai Akira

Russell Alysworth

Nicholas Halliday

Swimming

Ian Ho (Blacksburg, Virginia)

Cindy Cheung

Siobhán Haughey

Lam Tam

Camille Lily-Mei

Stephanie Hoi-Shun

Natalie Kan

Table tennis

Chun-Ting Wong

Kem Doo

Chengzhu Zhou (Houyangzhu, China)

Ching Lee

Taekwondo

Fung Lo

Triathlon

Jason Long

[bigspoopygurl]

Hard Boiled (1992)

Director: John Woo

Cinematographer: Wing-Hang Wong

[nine-frames]

辣手神探 (Hard Boiled), 1992.

Dir. John Woo | Writ. John Woo, Barry Wong and Gordon Chan | DOP Wing-Hang Wong

[cinesludge]

Movie #63 of 2020: The Killer

“You’re an unusual cop.”

“Well, you’re an unusual killer.”

[romdocitizen]

Too Many Ways to be No. 1 (1997) dir. Wai Ka-Fai, cinematography by Wing-Hang Wong

[sesiondemadrugada]

Operation Red Sea (Dante Lam, 2018).

[demospectator]

“B 7. Store Window in Chinatown, S.F., Cal.” c. 1885. Photograph by Isaiah West Taber (from the Cooper Chow collection at the Chinese Historical Society of America). The “B” designation referred to Taber Photo’s “Boudoir Photos” sold in the 5 x 8 size 

The characters 祥隆 (canto:  “Cheung Lung”), literally “auspicious prosperity” appear in the center pane of the storefront window.  A second sign is visible inside the store, inscribed with the characters “榮生,” which, when read from right to left would be “生榮” (canto: “Saang Wing”).  In the lower left-hand corner of the photo, the vertical signage  for a business located in the basement appears below the lower left corner of the window display area.  The name 有記  (canto: “Yow Gay”) appears, followed by what appear to the characters 包料木工枱瞪 (canto: “bau liu muk gung toy duhng;” lit. “packing woodworking table”), indicating the business of a woodworker or carpenter.  The ghostly figure of a vendor can be seen in the entryway at right, presumably overseeing the small sidewalk display to the left of the store entrance.  His relationship to the operators of the interior store space is not apparent.  The left-center portion of I.W. Taber’s photo of a “Store Window in Chinatown” shows the prominent 押 character on the signage for a pawnshop.  Typical for that era, the two-part signage of the bat hanging upside down and holding a coin is suspended from underneath the overhang of the first story’s balcony.

Pawnshops of Old Chinatown

 When the Chinese pioneers began to settle in America, the appearance of pawnshops and pawnbrokers in cities and Chinatowns throughout the Pacific Coast and the western United States, became inevitable.  Pawnshops, offering loans to borrowers and secured by personal property collateral, had traced their history more than three millennia to ancient China.  

For lower income groups, pawnshops have, in the words of professor Heiko Schrader, “a high outreach, are very often financially viable and have several advantages, compared to other institutions of the micro financial sector. Clients cannot fall into long-term indebtedness, due to the fact that they have to deposit a pawn of at least the same value.  And for the pawnshop this pawn reduces the risk to provide a loan to poor people, and monitoring is not necessary.”

“Street in Chinatown, San Francisco. Completely Burned. No. 2168,” published c. 1906.  Photographer unknown for the Photo. Co. of America, Chicago.  The street is the pre-1906 pawnshop row along the north side of Washington Street at the southern entrance to Ross Alley.  The pawnshop signage for the On Wing (安榮) store at 828 Washington appears in the center of the photo.

The photographic record of old San Francisco Chinatown’s streetscape provides numerous scenes of the southern Chinese pawn shop sign – the 押 character or symbol (canto: “aap”), literally a “mortgage” or pledge.   Additional signage showing a bat holding a coin 蝠鼠吊金錢 (lit. “bat mouse hanging money;” canto: “fūk syú diu gām chin”), signifying fortune and the benefits denoted by the coin, can be discerned.

“The Sign of the Pawn Shop” c. 1896-1906. Photograph by Arnold Genthe (from the Genthe photograph collection, Library of Congress, Prints and Photographs Division).  A print of a similar image appears in Old Chinatown : a book of pictures by Arnold Genthe with text by Will Irwin (New York : M. Kennerley, 1913, p. 195).  The signage for the pawnbroker, Hang Lee & Co. (亨利押; canto: “Hung Lei aap;” pinyin:  “Heng Li”) or “Pervasive Profit” pawnshop was located at 830 Washington Street near the entrance to Ross Alley, can be seen suspended in the foreground  of the image.  The Hang Lee pawnshop was located at 830 Washington Street, on the northwest corner of Washington Street and Stouts (or Ross) Alley – strategically situated within easy walking distance of gambling establishments and bordellos.

Historian Jack Tchen wrote in reference to Arnold Genthe’s photo “The Sign of the Pawnshop” for the Hang Lee & Co. as follows:  

“Amid the gambling rooms where savings were quickly lost, pawnshops thrived. Pawnshops had very high counters upon which the item to be pawned would be place for inspection by an unseen shop worker, hidden behind the counter for security purposes.  Often a man visiting his favorite prostitute or singsong girl would stop by the shop and pick up a present.  [Arnold] Genthe developed his collection of jades by frequenting these stores. “

The residents of old Chinatown preferred to hold liquid assets in the form of gold or gems because of the relative ease with which they could arrange loans from pawnshops when they needed cash urgently.  The neighborhood’s pawnbrokers located their shops in strategic proximity to houses of gambling and/or prostitution, with particular concentrations of shops on Washington and Jackson Streets.

“Dupont St. Wood Carriers of Chinatown Sf Cal.” c. 1890.  Photograph by A.J. McDonald (from the Marilyn Blaisdell collection).  The wood carriers might have been based on Dupont Street, but the signage in the upper left-hand corner of the frame advertise the location of the Hang Lee & Co. pawnshop or “Pervasive Profit” pawnshop (亨利押; canto: “hung lei aap”), at 830 Washington Street, at the northwest corner of Washington Street and Stouts (or Ross) Alley. Also, the barely discernible signage for the On Wing (安榮) pawnshop slightly down the eastern incline of the street at 828 Washington can be seen in the upper center of the photo.

"Hung Ai[sic] Art Co. doorway, August 24, 1901.”  Photograph by D. H. Wulzen (from the D.H. Wulzen Glass Plate Negative Collection (Sfp 40), San Francisco History Center, San Francisco Public Library).

In contrast to the misfortune which befell his contemporaries, the glass negatives of photographer D.H. Wulzen survived the quake and fire of 1906.  As a result, the San Francisco Public Library provides higher quality images of Wulzen’s work online, such as his 1901 photo of the Hung Hai Art Co. at 832 Washington Street.  Its name (恒泰) and address appear clearly in the center of the photo, as well as a prominent 押 (canto:  “hung tai aap”) character emblazoned on an oversized coin topped by the usual inverted bat icon which holds the coin.

Additional confirmation of the address location on Washington Street may be found by the partially-obscured signage of its adjacent pawnshop, the Hang Lee & Co. (亨利押; canto: “hung lei aap”).  The Hang Lee shop was located below street-level at 830 on the northwest corner of Washington Street and Stouts (or Ross) Alley.

The below-street grade location of the Hang Lee & Co. pawnshop at 830 Washington Street on the northwest corner of the intersection of Washington Street and Ross Alley, c. 1900.  Photograph by Henry H. Dobbin (from the Marilyn Blaisdell collection).  

Detail of the locations of Chinese pawnbrokers’ shops on the north side of Washington Street as depicted on the San Francisco Board of Supervisors’ special committee map of July 1885 (from the Cooper Chow collection at the Chinese Historical Society of America). The address numbers of 828 (at the northeast corner of the inverse “T”-intersection and 830 (which was located below street level were omitted by the 1885 survey.  

“136. Pawnbroker’s Shop, Chinatown, San Francisco, Cal.” no date. Photographer unknown, stereograph published by The Thomas Mfg. Co., Dayton, Ohio (from the private collection of Wong Yuen-ming).

A single print (from a private collection) of the north side of Washington Street at the entrance to Ross Alley, flanked on the left by the Hung Hai Art Co. at no. 832, Hang Lee & Co. at no. 830, and, to the right of the entrance, the On Wing shop at 828 Washington Street.  The trio of businesses represented a strategic and convenient cluster of pawnshops which San Francisco’s 1885 “vice map” recorded as occupying the north-side frontage of Washington extending west from Dupont Street and across Stouts (a.k.a. Ross) Alley.

The Horn Hong Company’s business calendar-directory of 1892 shows the pawnshops located in the 800-block of Washington Street, flanking the southern entrance to Ross Alley’s gambling establishments..

The 1885 map and the various business directories for Chinatown of the 1890’s show the pawnbrokers (including the Hung Hai company’s predecessor, Fong Chong Fook Kee & Co, which had occupied the 832 Washington premises during the 1880s and early ‘90s), had strategically situated themselves adjacent to, and within easy walking distance of, the gambling establishments and bordellos on Ross Alley.

Three Children outside of the Hung Hai Art Co. pawnshop at 832 Washington Street and Ross Alley.  The signage for the pawnbroker, Hang Lee & Co. (亨利押; canto: “Hung Lei aap;” pinyin:  “Heng Li”) or “Pervasive Profit” pawnshop at 830 Washington Street is visible above the head of the boy in the right half of the frame.  Photograph by Arnold Genthe, c. 1896 – 1906 (from the collection of the Library of Congress).

“Ross Alley Chinatown 1904.”  Photograph by Henry H. Dobbin (from the collection of the California State Library).  At right, the sign for the 巨興  (canto: “Geuih Hing”) or “Great Prosperity” pawnshop can be seen. 

“The Morning Market” c. 1896-1906. Photograph by Arnold Genthe (from the Genthe photograph collection, Library of Congress, Prints and Photographs Division).  

In the center of Arnold Genthe’s “Morning Market” photo of a Jackson Street block dominated by grocery stores, the glass windows of the Kung Wo pawnshop (公和押; pinyin:  “Gunghe;” canto: “Gung Wo aap;” lit. “Honorable Peace Mortgage”) can be seen in the center of the photo at 639 Jackson Street, between the grocers Tuck Wo (德和) at 635 Jackson and Yee Chong (裕昌) at 639 Jackson.  

The Chinese preferred to buy assets like gold or gems because of the relative ease with which they could arrange loans from pawnshops when they needed cash urgently.  To respond to the cash demands by the dominant population of single male workers for the recreational services provided by sex workers and gambling operations, pawnshops proliferated in old Chinatown.

Detail from San Francisco’s 1885 vice map of the location of the predecessor pawnbrokerage to the Kung Wo pawnshop (公和押; pinyin: “Gunghe;” canto: “Gung Wo aap;” lit. “Honorable Peace Mortgage”) which would occupy 639 Jackson Street at the time of Arnold Genthe’s photo of the block, “The Morning Market.”  The pawnshop was located at the top of the T-intersection of Jackson Street and the southern end of Bartlett Alley.  The alley contained the highest concentration of Chinese houses of prostitution as depicted by the “C.P.” coding in the San Francisco Board of Supervisors’ special committee map of July 1885 (from the Cooper Chow collection at the Chinese Historical Society of America).

According historian Jack Tchen notes, “[Chinatown’s] pawnbrokers were primarily located on Jackson and Washington Streets, near the concentration of gambling rooms,” and the city’s 1885 “vice map” shows such location, as well as near houses of prostitution.

“Ross Alley, Chinatown” 1886.  Oil painting by Edwin Deakin. The painting depicts a Chinese New Year’s celebration at the southern end of Ross Alley as viewed from Washington Street and the pawnshops flanking the entrance to the alleyway.  

Having operated for more than three decades, Chinatown’s pawnshops were all destroyed during the Great Earthquake and Fire of 1906.  However, the pawnbrokers reestablished their shops in the rebuilt neighborhood and often on familiar streets.  

This post-1906 photo shows the T.G. Kong Co. pawnshop at the renumbered street address of 852 Washington Street, on the same northwest corner of Washington Street and Ross Alley.  

The reminiscences of longtime Chinatown resident, Lyle Jan, about the new Chinatown’s pawnshops provide insights into how business was conducted during the era between the world wars:

“There were several pawn shops in Chinatown. I remember one in particular. It was located on the corner of Waverly Place next to Washington Street. I remember this particular pawnshop because my mother often visited this shop whenever we were short of cash.

“The pawn broker, or as he was also called, the moneylender, would provide money with interest, on personal property deposited with him as security. The pawnbroker kept the personal property until the borrower paid off his loan. Chinese gold jewelry is a personal property that can be easily pawned. The moneylender knew that if the borrower did not redeem the item, the gold jewelry would be fairly easy to sell to customers who seek a bargain on gold jewelry. The unredeemed gold jewelry is also attractive to goldsmiths who can melt the gold and make new jewelry from it.

“As a bit of added interest, during the 1930s and even up to the 40s, the street windows of pawn shops in Chinatown were boarded up so that passerbys on the street could not see the person inside the shop making a transaction. Inside the shop, the borrower faced an approximate 6 foot high counter with a wrought iron framework on the top. There was an opening in the framework much like the one for a teller in a bank. The borrower would hand the item he wanted to pawn with a raised arm and give it to the moneylender seated behind the opening of the wrought iron framework. The moneylender appraises the item to be pledged as security for the loan, then quotes the loan amount plus interest available to the borrower. If the borrower agrees to the loan terms, the money and a receipt is handed down to the borrower by the money lender. At no time was there a direct face to face contact between the moneylender and the borrower. . . .

“Customer at pawnbroker's shop remains hidden, slips camera through window for the Chinese consider it a disgrace to pawn anything”, 1944.  Photograph by James Wong Howe on assignment for LOOK magazine (from the collection of the Bancroft Library).

“The reason for the boarded street windows and the high counter between the moneylender and borrower was an effort to provide privacy for the borrower during the loan transaction. It was considered a loss of face for anyone to go to a pawnshop to borrow money. This privacy bit was rather comical, in that probably more than half of the Chinatown residents have had to walk into the portals of a pawn shop for cash to tie them over temporarily, especially during the Depression Years in America. I wouldn't be surprised that when a borrower walked out the doors of a pawnshop after receiving a loan, his best friend or relative might be just walking in to pawn his or her personal property.

“There was another purpose for the high counter besides privacy. In case there was an attempted robbery, the height of the high counter would act as a physical obstacle to the robber.”

-- from China 2227 Long, Long Ago: Memoirs of Old San Francisco by Lyle Jan (Infinity Publishing.com, 2005)

The Yick Lung Co. pawnshop operated at 852 Washington Street on the same northwest corner of Washington Street and Ross Alley as had its pre-1906 predecessor pawnbrokers.  The proprietor’s name was Alexander Dea.  Photographer unknown.

The sign of the Foo Wah Cheung hangs over the premises of 852 Washington Street at Ross Alley on June 8, 2022.  Photograph by Doug Chan

“Toymaker Off Ross Alley”  Oil painting by Mian Situ.  This historically-inspired painting by Situ depicts a street artist working under the faded signage of a pawnshop in front of a building façade (blending elements from the Hung Hai Art Co.’s Washington Street store frontage and the Ross Alley streetscape) from pre-1906 Chinatown. Although purporting to depict old Chinatown, the artist’s juxtaposing children with a deteriorating pawnbroker’s sign foreshadows the decline of a business sector which had served the old bachelor society and the concurrent rise of fully-formed families in the community.  

With the dramatic growth of the Chinese population and families in Chinatown, the neighborhood’s once-ubiquitous pawnshops no longer play as prominent a role in the micro-economy of the once-segregated community.  The pawnbrokers have faded from view, their functions assumed in large part by institutional lenders and the jewelry stores.  They remain, however, an integral part of the colorful and historical past of San Francisco Chinatown’s.

“Arrest in Chinatown, San Francisco, Cal.” (c) October 25, 1897 by Thomas A. Edison, Inc., from the collection of the Library of Congress. “This film shows the arrest and conveyance of a Chinese man in Chinatown, watched by a crowd of onlookers. The precise date of this film and the arrest charge are uncertain. It is possible that the arrest was connected with the smuggling of illegal immigrants from China. By mutual agreement between China and the United States, a small quota of merchants and students was allowed to immigrate yearly, but few legal immigrants actually were of these professions, and illegal immigration continued. One of the San Francisco residences for new arrivals was located at 830/832 Washington Street, the general location from which the arrest[ed] party ascends at the start of the film. . ..”  The signs of the pawnshops can be seen in the background.