#Alfred f jones my beloved

[gardeniacat]

he could have defeated the Columbine shooters

[royaltea000]

Stuff I forgor I drew (slightly wsfn under cut)

[sunnylolli]

(Part 2/2)

[flavell]

Cardverse Alfred in lingerie 🌈💙

[kaiz-1776]

working on some alfred sketches-

posting the final version tmw-

[usxuk]

Happy April Fools’ Day!

Another screenshot redraw! ( Open for quality! )

[tahanann]

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐋𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬: 𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮

❝ To whoever finds these letters, I hope they reach you well ❞ ✎▫✧⭒....

Fandom: Hetalia Relationship: F/M Pairing: Alfred F. Jones (America) / (Female) Reader Chapter list: 00, 01, 02, 03, 04, 05, 06, 07, 08, 09, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14 Also posted on: AO3, Wattpad, Quotev

Chapter 01: " Hi Babe! " ✎▫✧⭒…

It was (Y/n)'s third day in her new home, and thankfully it was a bright Sunday morning. The woman has work tomorrow, and she couldn't help but feel horrible at the thought of it. She only had two days to rest? Ugh. She learned this back in college, but honestly, it felt so much worse when people are out of college and are immediately hit with adult responsibilities. 

(Y/n) was just scrolling through her phone, sipping a warm beverage, with the tv talking in the background. Everything was peaceful until she was interrupted by a telephone ring. It was her realtor. He probably has some information about the Jones person she had called him about. 

"Hello?" (Y/n) spoke.

"Hey, so, in my records, there has been one family with the last name of Jones during the early twentieth century. The property was under a family name actually, but no one was actually using the home until the family had sold it off. After that, it's kind of hard to look for the Jones family, since they're probably living in another home. They're not really under my business line so I can't just go into the records for them," the realtor spoke.

"So there's no way to contact the family?" (Y/n) asked. The realtor gave her a simple no. The woman pinched the bridge of her nose, frustrated that there was no way to give the family their letters back. She sighed quietly to herself, mumbling a soft thank you to the man over the phone. She hung up after that. 

The young woman walked to her bedroom where the box of letters was. She supposed that there's no harm in opening the letters then. They were no names on them, other than scribbles, so she guessed that she could open them. 

(Y/n) gently pulled the lid off from the seal, damaging it just a bit. There was no other choice...the seal was in the way. The envelopes probably have no use anyway. It's the letter that has value. She picked out the letter and placed its torn casing on the bed. The letter was written in cursive, but it's nothing that (Y/n) couldn't decipher. 

Hi babe!  This is one of the first letters I'm writing back home! Yeah yeah, I actually wrote some back to Mom and Dad, but hey! Aren't you glad that you're getting one too? Anyway, how have you been? How are your hobbies going? I heard from my folks that you've picked up sewing. It's a neat skill to learn. I'm proud of you! I hope you're doing well over there. I hope you're thinking about how I'm doing. Honestly, ever since I've been deployed here, it's kind of boring. Well, Aside from me bonding with my friends and writing a ton of letters, there's nothing else we could do unless we're put into battle and things like that. There's the radio, sure, but all it's been playing are the same tunes. Always Bob Crosby and The Bob Cats. I wonder if we can actually get some variety here. Well, I guess if you start thinking about the generals' yells as a form of song, then that's some variety. I suppose I did pick up a new hobby, which is writing. I haven't written this much since college, actually. I hope in the future, I'll start writing poems to you. I'll probably learn them from Charles or something. You know how he is. He's super romantic and all. I'm a bit jealous that he could write good love letters to his beloved.  Maybe I'll start doing that too! Just stay tuned for the next one okay? My battalion hasn't been given a task yet, so, Charles, Alex, James, and I are waiting to be given something. I guess while we wait, all I can do is think about you and the songs that play on the radio. I'll even think about my ma and pa too! Don't think I don't do that already! You're just in my mind all the time, that's all.  I will write as much as I can to you. I hope you're actually getting these letters.   From your super awesome and super handsome future husband, A. F. J

(Y/n) stared at the letter in her hand. Goodness...this sounded personal. The letters she had in the box were...filled letters sent to someone special. If that was the first letter, it's got to be like that for the rest right? The woman reread the words again. Yeah...this was for Jones' girlfriend. He never wrote a name in there though and there was no name in the envelope. Just who was this guy's girl?

The woman sat there on her bed, a frown appearing on her lips. She folded the paper to its original shape and placed it back in its envelope. She reached for another letter in the box but hesitated to open it up. What if there were more personal things in these letters? Oh goodness. She was prying into someone's personal life.

Well, she already knew that she was doing that, but, honestly, it felt worse knowing that the letters are laid out like this. They were for this person's girlfriend at the time. She wasn't that...she wasn't his girlfriend at all. The desire to open them all was strong though, but (Y/n) had to do this once at a time. She had already opened a letter today, she'll just have to continue it tomorrow and read it then.

(Y/n) placed the opened letter in a drawer next to her bed. Her eyes looked back at the box again. Perhaps she should see how long it would take to read all of the letters. Gently, one by one, she counted all the letters she had at her disposal. She had excluded the letter she had read today. 

"Three-hundred-and-sixty-five," the woman told herself. That was enough to read one letter a day for a year. 

"Huh," (Y/n) sighed. Looks like she would be reading these for an entire year. She wondered how things would go. She placed the unopened letters back in their container and stashed the box under her bed. She had to be patient, or there would be no reward to this. She could last a year of just reading those letters. If she didn't know who this Private Jones was, and there was no means to contact his known living family, she might as well get to know him. 

These letters seem to be dated for World War Two. The man might just be dead now, really. 

The woman pitied the dead who had no one to remember them. Maybe Jones had someone who remembers him, but she would never know. For now, she should assume that there wasn't anyone who had him in their thoughts. (Y/n) figured that maybe, just maybe, she could be the one that remembers this poor soldier.

(Y/n) sighed as she walked away from her bedroom. Perhaps she should roam around today, maybe get to know the town a little more. Does the library have something that has this man's name on it? Perhaps she could find some sort of yearbook from the old times if they ever had those back then. Maybe even college photos that had him in there.

She wasn't desperate to find anyone who might know this man yet. There was actually a small part of her, that selfish part of her, that asked her to keep this man a secret. To keep him all to herself. That wasn't right, though, was it? It's always a question of morality with (Y/n). 

Her lips twitched to a smile as she dismissed her thoughts. She needed to stop thinking about the man right now. If she did, she might get pressured to actually do work, when she was supposed to rest today. A sigh leaves her mouth as she walks to her living room. She pressed the power button on her tv remote and watched whatever she found interesting in her favorite streaming service. 

The day would go on like this, with the woman lazying around in her own home. The house was silent for the most part, with no creeks or noises within the walls. The house wasn't haunted, as far as she knew. She knew that opening that box of letters wouldn't really bring ghosts to her home. 

They didn't exist, of course, they would never appear. 

The woman cooked dinner for herself that night. With nothing distracting her, the letters occupied her mind. 

"Jones...Jones," (Y/n) mumbled to herself, "Just...who the hell are you? Can I even find you anywhere?" The woman was hoping that she wasn't dealing with a John Doe. It would be hard to find someone like that, especially during the war. There are a lot of John Does in the war, especially those who have already lost their dog tags and have no means to identify them. 

She wishes that this man at least has a gravestone somewhere in this place. 

(Y/n) walked to her bedroom once more, her body immediately going to her bed. She peeked underneath, her eyes staring at the box. She wants to pry another one open, but ultimately decided against it. She fell on her mattress, her gaze now at the ceiling. There was nothing she could do right now. Tomorrow was her workday...maybe she should just sleep.

Her consciousness would stay with her for a few more moments until darkness surrounded her. The moon would stay active for a while until it eventually fell into its own slumber. The day brought light into the world, indicating a new day.

That new day would be (Y/n)'s workday. The woman edged out of her bed, wandering to the bathroom to get herself ready. Once changed into proper working attire, she went back to her room to get shoes. She had hidden her shoes under the bed, right beside the box of letters. As she looked for a pair to wear today, her eyes went to the box. 

Maybe she could read a letter today and see what Jones had to say. 

She put on her shoes before picking a letter from the box. The envelope was the same color as before. It either must have been made either the same week or the same month as the first letter she read. Gently she ripped the seal and pulled out the letter. 

Hi Babe, I hope you're doing well over there, wherever you may be right now. You might be at home, actually, since you're reading this letter. Anyway! I just wanted to say that finally, after a week of sitting around in a base, we're told to do something. Honestly, I hope this war isn't going to be that bad. I mean, since you know, America is here and all, I hope things are going to go well for us. I don't want to suddenly die on you, you know? We have so much planned! Did you know that earlier this morning, Charles caught me writing a letter to you today? Well, he caught me writing this letter to you, actually. I know he's a nosy bastard, but I didn't think he would actually read some of the words here. He asked me earlier if I actually had a sweetheart, since, you know, the last time he talked to me, he didn't see me with you. I guess I kept our relationship a secret huh? I must be that good!  How is your sewing going by the way? I hope it's going well. You must be very busy over there. Once I get back there in the States, we can start a family. You can maybe sew things together for the kids and I can probably provide enough to feed us all three meals! Of course, if you wanted to help too, you could! I know you're a strong woman and I don't want to limit what you can do. I think helping out in the war would give us some funds you know? Besides! I can put my college degree to good use! Once this all blows over, I can probably help you.  For now, since I'm away, I'll just be sending you letters, as much as I can! There's not enough paper to go around for everyone, so I can't really write to you all the time. Hopefully, I'll send enough letters to give you news. From your heroic future husband, A.F.J

(Y/n) couldn't help but laugh at his mannerism in the letter. He seems young, honestly, and had the innocence too, somewhere in there. He doesn't know the hardships of war just yet. There are a few things she knows about him. He spilled more info in this second letter than the first one she said. He's a young man who had a college degree somewhere. He talked about plans with his babe, and he appears to be a family man. Jones was a hopeful man, eager to meet his sweetheart again.

She smiled to herself as she placed the letter back in its home, tucking the opened envelope on top of the one she read last night. (Y/n) placed the box under her bed and went on with her day. After breakfast, the woman heads for work. Throughout the day, she thought about Jones and how she would have loved to befriend him if he were ever alive in her era. 

She can't wait to read more letters from him.

[localgardenweed]

OKAOKSOAKODKOAKDOKAY SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

IM NOT SURE IF YOU'LL KNOW ALL OF THESE BUT MAYBE YOU WILL SO I WONT SAY YOU DONT LOL

SOOOO AHAHHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA

ALFRED, IVAN, TOM, TORD, EDD, PAU, ALASTOR, MICHAEL MYERS, GHOSTFACE, GARROTH, LAURANCE, TANKMAN, PICO, STOLAS, EYELESS JACK, SLENDERMAN, BATMAN, HARLEY QUIN, DARK CHOCOLATE COOKIE, ESPRESSO COOKIE, VAMPIRE COOKIE, MINT COOKIE, DARK CACAO COOKIE, AND MILLIE AND THATS ALL I CAN THINK OF SO FAR

Mhm mhm mhm- Loving those first choices, Ivan looks like he could give the best hugs.

Tom and Tord are just my beloveds the enturr gang is like mwah kisses for all.

I saw Garroth and Laurence and like gasped bro IM GOING BACK IN TIME IM LIKE FLASHBACKING

I never really got into cookie run but like bro those cookies got style like teach me to like that fabulous

My simp list is kinda short but if i added the ones I just liked alot and would kiss we’d be here all day so these are the ones I would get down on one knee and MARRY

Kiku Honda / Japan - Hetalia

Alfred F. Jones / America - Hetalia

Goemon Ishikawa XIII - Lupin III

Daisuke Jigen - Lupin III

Lupin III from you gussed it LUPIN THE FUCKING THIRD

[morgenlich]

alfred f jones my beloved for the ask meme

send me a character! | accepting

favorite thing: I love how friendly he is!! it can come across as overbearing ofc but idk he speaks to me lol

least favorite thing: he’s the rep for like the Worst country irl /s his tendency to insert himself into situations he doesn’t need to like bitch!

favorite line: idk if it’s my favorite can’t stay i have especially strong opinions on this front lol but I think about this a lot

brotp: HM probably w j.apan lol, the energy of two different kinds of dorky dads who vibe together there is great

otp: sfsfsd i don’t feel v strongly about his ships tbh but rusame and ameliet are good

random hc: i feel like it’s popular to assume he’s a Big City Guy and i don’t think that’s untrue but he also strikes me as the kind of guy who will fuck off into the woods or desert or smth for a month without telling anyone lol

unpopular opinion: apparently that he and england aren’t brothers and don’t see each other as such dgdfdf

song i associate with him: HMM hm tbh ?? “spirit in the sky”

favorite picture of him: sfdfdd ik these aren’t like solo pics but

[ao3feed-brucewayne]

Avengers Dynasty (Book 2) Polaroids of the White Jasmine

by Atheria

Though the path to stopping those responsible for the alien weapons is still on its way, even with many of those responsible stopped, Brooklyn Stark no longer has to do it alone.

Now she has a family, a group of friends, and a team that is slowly being acknowledged as the heroes of Queens.

Brook has to decide what she will do about the feelings in her heart, about what risks and threats she is willing to take on this new school semester.

As the team grows and the stakes grow higher to keep secrets from the Avengers, Waynes, and the Justice League, Brooklyn will have to not only continue to grow as a person, but fulfill her duties to the world and to herself.

Who could be the ones behind all these problems?

Are all Waynes really that bad?

How will her and Damian handle the future ahead?

Can she control her own abilities?

Who will find out their secrets?

All Brooklyn knows for sure is that her growing family is power, and she will fight for it...whatever it takes.

(I do not own the Marvel and DC characters, music, or gifs presented in this fanfic. This book will contain some mature themes of violence, cursing, and perhaps others down the line.)

Words: 9392, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Series: Part 2 of Avengers Dynasty Series

Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Marvel (Comics), DCU (Comics), Batman - All Media Types

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Categories: F/F, F/M

Characters: Avengers Team, Batfamily Members, Damian Wayne, Jon Lane Kent, Yelena Belova, Michelle Jones, Peter Parker, Harry Osborn, Ned Leeds, Original Female Character(s), X-Men (Team), Fantastic Four (Team), Joker (DCU), Shuri (Marvel), James "Bucky" Barnes, Harley Keener, Various MCU Characters, Teen Titans (DCU), Justice League (DCU), Raven (DCU), Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, Selina Kyle, Bruce Wayne, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Cassie Lang, Alfred Pennyworth

Relationships: Michelle Jones/Peter Parker, Damian Wayne/Original Female Character(s), Selina Kyle/Bruce Wayne, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Jon Lane Kent/ Yelena Belova, Stephanie Brown/Tim Drake, Dick Grayson/Koriand'r, Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov

Additional Tags: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Light Angst, Crossover, a little bit of hurt/comfort, Violence, Blood and Injury, slight deviations from canon but its mostly accurate, Feels, Found Family, Action/Adventure, Teen Romance, Slow Burn, Team as Family, Assassins, Domestic Batfamily (DCU), Crime Fighting, a serious attempt at making fanfic cliches better, lots of family cuteness, more adoptions, Attempt at Humor, Family enemies, Wayne vs Stark, Damian Wayne is better at feelings, Parent Tony Stark, Idiots in Love, Jon Kent is the sweetest, Alfred Pennyworth is the Best, Goliath my beloved, again too much research was done for this fanfic but its worth it, REALLY LONG CHAPTERS, Domestic Avengers

source https://archiveofourown.org/works/33665731

[smokeybrandreviews]

Smokey brand Movie Reviews: Top Men

I’ve never seen all of Raiders of the Lost Arc in it’s entirety. This thing came out when i was a kid and was the opposite of what i was about back then. My thing was giant monsters, space robots, and neon cyberpunk. Indiana Jones spent the majority of his time in a f*cking desert. That sh*t seemed boring to me. As i grew older and my tastes expanded, i found myself kind of into a lot of the things portrayed in that initial film. Archaeology, lost history, biblical mythology; I find that sh*t fascinating. Ancient lien theory actually intrigue me a great deal, mostly it’s utter dismissal on both sides of the argument, so when Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull came out, i was all for it. Once it hit DVD. I did not see that sh*t in theaters. To my surprise, i rather enjoyed it. Apparently, however, that is not what an Indiana Jones film was supposed to be. As i perused Netflix, i noticed that Raiders was available for streaming. I figured, what the hell? It’s been probably thirty years since i last watched this thing. Let me see if i agree with the general consensus that this movie is, indeed, a proper classic of cinema.

The Great

The best thing about this movie, i think, is definitely the score. Holy sh*t, man, the music in this film definitely makes the picture. John Williams is a goddamn genius, man. Dude rarely creates something that isn’t all sorts of classic.

After that absolutely epic score, the next best thing about this film is easily Harrison Ford. If you made a movie about Han Solo but placed it on earth, during the thirties, and turned him into an archaeologist instead of a scoundrel, you’d have Henry Walton “Indiana” Jones, jr. Ford gives such a charming, electric, charismatic performance as Jones, it’s no wonder the character became a staple of the American cinematic lexicon.

The Better

 Karen Allen as Marion Ravenwood makes this film for me. She is the standout, only outshined by Ford’s Indiana, himself. She’s outstanding as Indy’s foil and absolutely necessary to sell the character. She’s caught a lot, sure, but it’s almost always by numerous men who probably outweigh her by a few pounds and, even then, she never just surrenders. You rarely hear her scream and she almost always lands her own solid licks in a proper fight. Lucas sure knows how to write dope female leads when he tries. When he doesn’t, we get Willie Scott. I’ll get to THAT broad when i review Temple of Doom. I got A LOT to say about that chick, man.

The action in this thing is brazen, dangerous, and appreciated. They don;t make movies like this anymore. Everything in here is practice, Every stung, fight, explosion, and set piece was done with physical, real life, stuff. You don't see this level of film making anymore because of all the CG effect proliferation which was, in part, championed by both Lucas and Spielberg. That sh*t is kind of hilarious to me. One of the greatest action films ever made, rife with practical effects, is directly responsible for the mitigation of the very thing that makes this movie so special.

Speaking of the direction, Spielberg is in fine form with this one. 80s Spielberg is hard to touch. He sh*tted classics during this decade, solidifying his place as one of the greats to ever do it. ET, Poltergeist (even though people say it’s Toby Hooper was the one who helmed it, Spielberg definitely ghost directed this thing), The Goonies as Second Unit Director, Empire of the Sun, The Color Purple, and Temple of Doom, all came out under his watch. Dude was prolific as f*ck.

The writing on this flick is decent. George Lucas understands how to craft a story. He has a formula and he follows that sh*t religiously but it works. He wrote Star Wars. He wrote Indiana Jones. He wrote American Graffiti. Dude knows his stuff and it really shows in Raiders. The characters feel real and actually pretty charming. I found myself rooting for Marion almost immediately, masterclass in character introduction.

The Good

I like the narrative crafted for this tale, the actual story. There are a lot of great ideas put forth, creative use of biblical imagery and christian mythology. I love that sh*t. It’s why i adore Dan Brown’s stuff so much. Say what you will about The DaVinci Code, i love that mess and it really is kind of a mess. This story is not. It get right to the point, focusing n the characters and their relationships rather than the actual Christ Judaeo-Christian imagery. In the 80s, that was absolutely necessary but i think it makes for a stronger, cleaner, narrative overall.

I rather enjoy this cast. Everyone is quite god in their respective roles, overall. I had no idea Alfred Molina was in this so that was a nice surprise. It’s always fun seeing people i know later in life, in the young, vibrant, beginnings of their careers. John Rhys-Davies was also fun to see. I know him from Sliders but seeing him in this was a real treat.

This movie is absolutely gorgeous. It’s definitely nature porn, even if most of it is sand and brown. The shot composition if this thing is spectacular. I was kind of impressed with how vivid this world looks even though there is so little of it shown. There is a ton of it show, yes, but most of it is in the desert or some sh*t. You can only see the same kinds of rocks so many times before you hate seeing those rocks. Raiders does a great job of shooting those rocks in interesting, dynamic ways, so the setting never overstays it’s welcome.

But them melting Nazis, tho.

The Bad

So, there really isn’t a whole lot of bad in this. Admittedly, Raiders is a near perfect film. I can concede that. But i still wasn’t really entertained by it. I still was gripped with what i saw. I don’t understand the allure of this franchise on a personal level. Objectively, sure, it’s fantastic. But, for me, this sh*t is boring.

Raiders feels like one, long ass, chase scene with spots of exposition before another, long ass, chase scene. The dialogue is charming, the chemistry between the leads is palpable, and the action is some of the best on film, but blergh. I was never captivated nor did i care about anyone in this film.

The Verdict

I don’t like this movie. Absolutely disconnected from it. I find it plodding, pretentious, and a little boring. I do understand why everyone who holds this film so dear, absolutely hates Crystal Skull. There is a distinct shift in tone between the two and it’s actually quite jarring. This is coming from someone who doesn’t even really like the franchise at all. It’s kind of surreal how alien that Indiana feels to this Indiana. That said, as a proper film critique, Raiders is f*cking phenomenal. Objectively, this is a near perfect example of a film in this genre. There is inspired direction, great performances, gorgeous scene composition, rich cinematography, and characters that have stood the test of time to become stalwarts of US culture. I mean, i knew exactly who Marion Ravenwood was when she was introduced in Crystal Skull and i had only seen Raiders once when i was, like, five or six. That tells you exactly how beloved this movie is within the cultural zeitgeist. Raiders f the Lost Ark is an absolutely great film. It is to the action genre as Alien is to sci-fi horror, and y’all know how high in regard i hold Alien. That’s not praise i heap flippantly. All four of these flicks are on Netflix so might check them all out eventually. Maybe. That said, personally, i do not like this movie at all. Still doesn’t do enough to shake my giant monster, space robot, neon cyberpunk sensibilities.

[he-tea-lia]

On the other hand, if I was starting a cult I would specifixally recruit him and make him my very special boy my right hand man my most beloved servant. There is a special place in my heaven for Alfred F. Jones, but to get there he has to be a good boy and support me blindly and help as many ppl as he can find the light :) i'd make him wear a dog collar.

you're so fucking valid and reasonable for this. the dog collar might be a bit high church for him to start with but i'm sure he'd grow to love it

[ao3feed-mcufemslash]

Avengers Dynasty (Book 2) Polaroids of the White Jasmine

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2WTaCIy

by Atheria

Though the path to stopping those responsible for the alien weapons is still on its way, even with many of those responsible stopped, Brooklyn Stark no longer has to do it alone.

Now she has a family, a group of friends, and a team that is slowly being acknowledged as the heroes of Queens.

Brook has to decide what she will do about the feelings in her heart, about what risks and threats she is willing to take on this new school semester.

As the team grows and the stakes grow higher to keep secrets from the Avengers, Waynes, and the Justice League, Brooklyn will have to not only continue to grow as a person, but fulfill her duties to the world and to herself.

Who could be the ones behind all these problems?

Are all Waynes really that bad?

How will her and Damian handle the future ahead?

Can she control her own abilities?

Who will find out their secrets?

All Brooklyn knows for sure is that her growing family is power, and she will fight for it...whatever it takes.

(I do not own the Marvel and DC characters, music, or gifs presented in this fanfic. This book will contain some mature themes of violence, cursing, and perhaps others down the line.)

Words: 9392, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Series: Part 2 of Avengers Dynasty Series

Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Marvel (Comics), DCU (Comics), Batman - All Media Types

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Categories: F/F, F/M

Characters: Avengers Team, Batfamily Members, Damian Wayne, Jon Lane Kent, Yelena Belova, Michelle Jones, Peter Parker, Harry Osborn, Ned Leeds, Original Female Character(s), X-Men (Team), Fantastic Four (Team), Joker (DCU), Shuri (Marvel), James "Bucky" Barnes, Harley Keener, Various MCU Characters, Teen Titans (DCU), Justice League (DCU), Raven (DCU), Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, Selina Kyle, Bruce Wayne, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Cassie Lang, Alfred Pennyworth

Relationships: Michelle Jones/Peter Parker, Damian Wayne/Original Female Character(s), Selina Kyle/Bruce Wayne, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Jon Lane Kent/ Yelena Belova, Stephanie Brown/Tim Drake, Dick Grayson/Koriand'r, Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov

Additional Tags: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Light Angst, Crossover, a little bit of hurt/comfort, Violence, Blood and Injury, slight deviations from canon but its mostly accurate, Feels, Found Family, Action/Adventure, Teen Romance, Slow Burn, Team as Family, Assassins, Domestic Batfamily (DCU), Crime Fighting, a serious attempt at making fanfic cliches better, lots of family cuteness, more adoptions, Attempt at Humor, Family enemies, Wayne vs Stark, Damian Wayne is better at feelings, Parent Tony Stark, Idiots in Love, Jon Kent is the sweetest, Alfred Pennyworth is the Best, Goliath my beloved, again too much research was done for this fanfic but its worth it, REALLY LONG CHAPTERS, Domestic Avengers

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2WTaCIy

[smokeybrand]

Smokey brand Movie Reviews: Top Men

I’ve never seen all of Raiders of the Lost Arc in it’s entirety. This thing came out when i was a kid and was the opposite of what i was about back then. My thing was giant monsters, space robots, and neon cyberpunk. Indiana Jones spent the majority of his time in a f*cking desert. That sh*t seemed boring to me. As i grew older and my tastes expanded, i found myself kind of into a lot of the things portrayed in that initial film. Archaeology, lost history, biblical mythology; I find that sh*t fascinating. Ancient lien theory actually intrigue me a great deal, mostly it’s utter dismissal on both sides of the argument, so when Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull came out, i was all for it. Once it hit DVD. I did not see that sh*t in theaters. To my surprise, i rather enjoyed it. Apparently, however, that is not what an Indiana Jones film was supposed to be. As i perused Netflix, i noticed that Raiders was available for streaming. I figured, what the hell? It’s been probably thirty years since i last watched this thing. Let me see if i agree with the general consensus that this movie is, indeed, a proper classic of cinema.

The Great

The best thing about this movie, i think, is definitely the score. Holy sh*t, man, the music in this film definitely makes the picture. John Williams is a goddamn genius, man. Dude rarely creates something that isn’t all sorts of classic.

After that absolutely epic score, the next best thing about this film is easily Harrison Ford. If you made a movie about Han Solo but placed it on earth, during the thirties, and turned him into an archaeologist instead of a scoundrel, you’d have Henry Walton “Indiana” Jones, jr. Ford gives such a charming, electric, charismatic performance as Jones, it’s no wonder the character became a staple of the American cinematic lexicon.

The Better

 Karen Allen as Marion Ravenwood makes this film for me. She is the standout, only outshined by Ford’s Indiana, himself. She’s outstanding as Indy’s foil and absolutely necessary to sell the character. She’s caught a lot, sure, but it’s almost always by numerous men who probably outweigh her by a few pounds and, even then, she never just surrenders. You rarely hear her scream and she almost always lands her own solid licks in a proper fight. Lucas sure knows how to write dope female leads when he tries. When he doesn’t, we get Willie Scott. I’ll get to THAT broad when i review Temple of Doom. I got A LOT to say about that chick, man.

The action in this thing is brazen, dangerous, and appreciated. They don;t make movies like this anymore. Everything in here is practice, Every stung, fight, explosion, and set piece was done with physical, real life, stuff. You don't see this level of film making anymore because of all the CG effect proliferation which was, in part, championed by both Lucas and Spielberg. That sh*t is kind of hilarious to me. One of the greatest action films ever made, rife with practical effects, is directly responsible for the mitigation of the very thing that makes this movie so special.

Speaking of the direction, Spielberg is in fine form with this one. 80s Spielberg is hard to touch. He sh*tted classics during this decade, solidifying his place as one of the greats to ever do it. ET, Poltergeist (even though people say it’s Toby Hooper was the one who helmed it, Spielberg definitely ghost directed this thing), The Goonies as Second Unit Director, Empire of the Sun, The Color Purple, and Temple of Doom, all came out under his watch. Dude was prolific as f*ck.

The writing on this flick is decent. George Lucas understands how to craft a story. He has a formula and he follows that sh*t religiously but it works. He wrote Star Wars. He wrote Indiana Jones. He wrote American Graffiti. Dude knows his stuff and it really shows in Raiders. The characters feel real and actually pretty charming. I found myself rooting for Marion almost immediately, masterclass in character introduction.

The Good

I like the narrative crafted for this tale, the actual story. There are a lot of great ideas put forth, creative use of biblical imagery and christian mythology. I love that sh*t. It’s why i adore Dan Brown’s stuff so much. Say what you will about The DaVinci Code, i love that mess and it really is kind of a mess. This story is not. It get right to the point, focusing n the characters and their relationships rather than the actual Christ Judaeo-Christian imagery. In the 80s, that was absolutely necessary but i think it makes for a stronger, cleaner, narrative overall.

I rather enjoy this cast. Everyone is quite god in their respective roles, overall. I had no idea Alfred Molina was in this so that was a nice surprise. It’s always fun seeing people i know later in life, in the young, vibrant, beginnings of their careers. John Rhys-Davies was also fun to see. I know him from Sliders but seeing him in this was a real treat.

This movie is absolutely gorgeous. It’s definitely nature porn, even if most of it is sand and brown. The shot composition if this thing is spectacular. I was kind of impressed with how vivid this world looks even though there is so little of it shown. There is a ton of it show, yes, but most of it is in the desert or some sh*t. You can only see the same kinds of rocks so many times before you hate seeing those rocks. Raiders does a great job of shooting those rocks in interesting, dynamic ways, so the setting never overstays it’s welcome.

But them melting Nazis, tho.

The Bad

So, there really isn’t a whole lot of bad in this. Admittedly, Raiders is a near perfect film. I can concede that. But i still wasn’t really entertained by it. I still was gripped with what i saw. I don’t understand the allure of this franchise on a personal level. Objectively, sure, it’s fantastic. But, for me, this sh*t is boring.

Raiders feels like one, long ass, chase scene with spots of exposition before another, long ass, chase scene. The dialogue is charming, the chemistry between the leads is palpable, and the action is some of the best on film, but blergh. I was never captivated nor did i care about anyone in this film.

The Verdict

I don’t like this movie. Absolutely disconnected from it. I find it plodding, pretentious, and a little boring. I do understand why everyone who holds this film so dear, absolutely hates Crystal Skull. There is a distinct shift in tone between the two and it’s actually quite jarring. This is coming from someone who doesn’t even really like the franchise at all. It’s kind of surreal how alien that Indiana feels to this Indiana. That said, as a proper film critique, Raiders is f*cking phenomenal. Objectively, this is a near perfect example of a film in this genre. There is inspired direction, great performances, gorgeous scene composition, rich cinematography, and characters that have stood the test of time to become stalwarts of US culture. I mean, i knew exactly who Marion Ravenwood was when she was introduced in Crystal Skull and i had only seen Raiders once when i was, like, five or six. That tells you exactly how beloved this movie is within the cultural zeitgeist. Raiders f the Lost Ark is an absolutely great film. It is to the action genre as Alien is to sci-fi horror, and y’all know how high in regard i hold Alien. That’s not praise i heap flippantly. All four of these flicks are on Netflix so might check them all out eventually. Maybe. That said, personally, i do not like this movie at all. Still doesn’t do enough to shake my giant monster, space robot, neon cyberpunk sensibilities.

[thepeacefulspider]

John Cassavetes’ “A Woman Under the Influence” (1974)

“This uncompromising portrait of domestic turmoil details the emotional breakdown of a suburban housewife and her family’s struggle to save her from herself. Gena Rowlands and Peter Falk give unforgettably harrowing performances as a married couple deeply in love but unable to express their ardor in terms the other can understand. This landmark American film is perhaps the most beloved work from the extraordinary John Cassavetes.” - The Criterion Collection.

A Woman Under the Influence’s Criterion Collection page, with reviews and trailers:

https://www.criterion.com/films/510-a-woman-under-the-influence

“If there’s one quality that separates John Cassavetes’s movies from almost everybody else’s, it’s the density of detail in the storytelling. His films need to be read closely, from beginning to end. There are no lulls with Cassavetes, no lapses in rhythm; the films aren’t broken down the way most are. You have to apprehend them from gesture to gesture, breath to breath. Very few filmmakers in the sound era have chosen to work this way, at least in the realm of fiction. Only Carl Theodor Dreyer, of whom Cassavetes was a great admirer, comes to mind. This is not to slight filmmakers with a different approach to their art, who either break up their scenes in clearly articulated units (Alfred Hitchcock, Robert Bresson), build tableau effects that take the action into an eerie timelessness (Stanley Kubrick), isolate a certain visual or behavioral event as the focal point of a given shot (Jean Renoir), or dig into the marrow of time to make an event out of duration itself (Andy Warhol, Andrei Tarkovsky). Every approach is equally valid, none more elevated than the rest. Die-hard Cassavetes devotees do him no favors when they buy into his own pronouncements and claim that his methods allowed him a greater purchase on the truth (whatever that is) than other filmmakers. “My films are the truth,” he once said during a personal appearance with a filmmaker of my acquaintance; needless to say, my acquaintance was more than a little put off. Yet such pretentiousness is easily forgiven in a man like Cassavetes, just as it’s easy to make allowances for the pomposity contained within Bresson’s book of maxims. When you consider how far against the grain they both went, it’s understandable that they would each accord their own idiosyncratic working methods the status of scientific breakthroughs or archaeological finds.

A whole generation of critics misunderstood Cassavetes so spectacularly that the ones who are still around are probably too embarrassed to take a second look. The Gustav Mahler of cinema, Cassavetes was excoriated in his lifetime for form­lessness, lack of focus and modulation, et cetera and ad infinitum. And, like Mahler, his work has come back after his death to haunt those who were so quick with their doctrinaire judgments. Actors Studio exercises, formless improvisations, and unmodulated emotionalism are all you’re going to see if you look at every movie with the expectation that it will/should be broken up into visually and behaviorally pointed units. Films like A Woman Under the Influence defy a century’s worth of film theory, screenwriting tips, and film school orthodoxy. When you look at a close-up in a film by almost anyone else, you’re looking at a representation of the idea of an emotion, no matter how detailed the acting. In Cassavetes, every blink, every shrug, every hesitation counts and drives the story forward. ...” -  Kent Jones, essay on Criterion.com.

Kent Jones’ complete essay:

https://www.criterion.com/current/posts/340-a-woman-under-the-influence-the-war-at-home

Enjoy :)

[chaiteakusuri]

Running with a Ghost: Chp 6

It’s finally here!

Chp1, Chp2, Chp3, Chp4, Chp5

Chapter 6: Guilt and Gigabytes Read it on my A03

           Alfred didn’t know how long he sat at the foot of his bed that evening, staring at the sliding door to his closet, but he knew a lot of other things now, too much.

           Alfred knew he ran away, again, he knew all he’d done was scream and run, again. He knew he did exactly the opposite of what he told himself he was going to do. He knew that that ghost used to be a human being and he knew he made that ghost- human being cry.

           He made them cry.

           He made Ivan cry and Alfred felt like his heart was being ripped from his chest.

           Alfred knew that evening that he would find no peace in sleep, if the jarred American could even find sleep at all after coming to fully understand ‘just how much of a dick’ he had been.

           That why, at 2:30 in the morning, the American stood in front of the coffee maker, in the scarcely lit kitchen where he was noticed by his brother who was on a trip to the bathroom.

           “....ed...fred....Alfred!”

           Alfred jerked, tearing his eyes away from the rhythmic drip of the coffee pot to look to his groggy brother.

           “What on earth are you doing making coffee at--” Matthew looked to the clock, “2:30 in the morning?” The other asked in disbelief, the fact that he lived in Canada most of his life shining through in his sleepy, accent laden, voice.

           Alfred looked at his brother for a long moment before returning his attention to the coffee pot to begin preparing himself a cup.

           Matthew watched, concern beginning to pervade through his features. “Alfie, is something wrong?” He asked, further concern rising in him as his brother prepared himself an uncharacteristically unsweetened cup of coffee; only upon retrieving a funnel would anyone be able to get Alfred Jones to ‘drink’ black coffee. Matthew felt his heart sink when he saw his brother nod.

           “I accidentally flirted with a ghost.” Alfred murmured, the most serious, worn out, and grave the upbeat man’s expression had been in months.

           Matthew blinked, silence commanding him as Alfred gathered the mug in his hands and began his journey back to his room.

           Matthew blinked once more and he felt all concern leave him. “Flirted--! Augh!” he cried in frustration before making his angry, sleepy way back to his bedroom to go back to sleep.

           Alfred, however, did not sleep; his guilt weighing so heavily on him that the idea of getting any type of restful sleep for the rest of the week was beyond him. Rather, Alfred sat at his computer, the shine from the monitor being the only source of light in the room. If he couldn’t find sleep, he would be productive; productive in some sense of the word, anyway.

           Alfred F. Jones considered himself a master of at least three things: Dark Souls, knot tying, and finding answers on the world wide web. The internet: Alfred’s second home. So, rather than allowing himself to go to sleep, Alfred decided to search the internet for his ghostly “acquaintance”, Ivan Braginski. “Okay, Mr. Braginski, let’s learn some more about you shall we?” Alfred asked of the empty room as he opened his internet browser.

           Rapidly cooling coffee by his side, the young American searched through the long hours of the late evening and the wee hours of the early morning for any and all information he could find on the ghostly man; after hours of searching, Alfred sat, tired eyes behind his glasses staring at his computer screens, several tabs visible between two windows sharing the computer screen.

           The hours of searching for the American yielded in several significantly old articles about the specter, or, more specifically, about the man before he was a specter.

           “Ivan Braginski.” Alfred murmured, surprise engulfing his features as he recognized the name of the site that published this article; the publisher was Millennium University, the very same university at which Alfred attended years prior to earn his business degree. Feeling sudden worry well up in his chest, Alfred looked at the screen for a long moment. Opening this tab very well may be like opening Pandora’s box, the American thought.

           But, under further deduction, this also may be the only way to learn the truth: the whole truth; this may be one of the only ways to ease the blonde’s troubled mind.

           Alfred scrutinized the blurb for a long moment before clicking the link, the simple action like disarming a bomb for the American in those brief moments.

           “A good person would turn into a good ghost.. right?” Alfred questioned the shining computer screen, hoping an affirmative answer would lie within.

           For a moment, while the page loaded at speeds comparable to those of honey attempting to ooze its way out of a clogged honey bottle, Alfred was sure that Ivan must have been a good man; the school wouldn’t highlight the life and actions of a horrible person.            Upon further thought, however, Alfred realized that the school has, in face, covered horrifying events in the past and that it was a very real possibility that Ivan could be the cause of one of those horrible events. Ivan, potentially, could even be the worst.

           As this realization dawned upon the American, Alfred tried to dispel all thought, logical or otherwise, and simply wished for the page would load. The blonde cursed himself in those moments for being cheap and not investing in a fancier, quicker internet router and modem.

           Alfred looked down at his keyboard, swallowing thickly and rapping his fingers against the wooden surface of his desk while he waited.

           Finally, the moment came and the screen flashed before displaying the page of information he yearned so badly for. But, Alfred couldn't bring himself to drag his eyes up from his desk; he couldn’t convince himself to look back at his computer screen. At this, Alfred let out a frustrated groan, “Hhhh, what if the ghost was a murderer?” Alfred wondered in dismay, “What if the ghost I flirted with was a murderer?”

           Alfred anguished thusly for a painful span of five minutes, words similar to ‘psychopath’ and ideas of ‘it’s always the quiet ones’ running through his mind in the same manner which he run from Ivan on two separate occasions: sporadic and frenzied.

           As these thoughts and ideas continued to pervade deeper and deeper in Alfred’s mind, a more morose, less violent thought crept to the forefront of the young man’s brain. Alfred remembered the way Ivan sobbed. Alfred remembered the way the sobs rang through his ears and shook his mind; they had been the cries of a sad soul, an innocent soul, a painfully lonely soul.

           It was with those memories weighing heavily on his mind and his heart that Alfred brought his gaze up.

           Alfred was going to get to the bottom of this.

           Upon tearing his gaze up and away from his desk, Alfred’s eyes were greeted with the familiar looking layout of the university’s website; there were slight changes, Alfred noted as he gave the page he’d loaded a quick glance over. During his scan of the page, he noted that he was deep in the archived section of documents created by the university. While looking for a date to solidify the time line of the article, Alfred’s eyes happened upon an empty square. When Alfred noticed a loading circle in the middle of the box, he concluded that it must be an image and he waited several, long moments for it to load on the page.

           Alfred would later be ashamed to admit that, due to intense staring and paranoia, he jerked in surprise when the image finally loaded. Alfred’s shock quickly tapered off, however, as he took in the image displayed before him. It must have been him; it was Ivan.

           The man in the image looked exactly like the ghost; if nothing else, Alfred at least he had a positive I.D.. No close examination whatsoever was needed for Alfred to clearly see that Ivan was well liked by the community during his life. In the image, Ivan held a generously sized watermelon which was securely tucked in the crook of his arm. In his other hand, he held the stalks of two sunflowers, both boasting huge floral heads; Alfred made the safe assumption that Ivan had grown these crops himself. The joy was plain to see on the man’s face, making it easy for Alfred to tell why the plaque described the deceased man as a green thumb. Unbeknownst to himself, Alfred adorned a smile of his own while admiring the delighted man’s visage. However, upon remembering his intended purpose of entering the site, Alfred snapped his eyes away from the image to begin reading the contents of the article, his worries of murderers having been quelled dramatically by the happy picture just to the right of the words he read.

           Alfred muttered softly to himself as he read, “Ivan’s life, like the early blooms of spring, was too short. He came into our lives and his life was, as if by a greedy passerby, plucked too soon from this life and without warning.”

           “Oh no...is this a eulogy?” Alfred whispered quietly to himself, as if he didn’t want his computer to hear. Alfred scanned over the rest of the article quickly, trying to hastily get the gist of it while trying to ignore a twisting feeling in his chest. But, despite his efforts, Alfred could feel his heart sink and twist and ache as he read the last several lines of the article.

           “So, it is on this day and for all the days after that we will greatly miss Ivan Braginski: whose smile could light up a room and whose hands could beautify any landscape.”

           Alfred sat, eyes glued to the last lines of the article. His eyes shot up through the rest of the paragraphs, catching the words “beloved”, “heartwarming”, and “sweet” before his gaze fell back to the right half of the screen, to the picture of Ivan. Alfred glanced over the cute features of the now confirmed Russian man, noting an adorable, weaved gardener’s hat atop his head and Alfred couldn’t stop the agonized groan from escaping his throat. A moment later, Alfred allowed his head to fall, connecting hard with his desk. Alfred let out a cry of pain, but he felt he deserved the suffering at that point.

           “Oh god... everyone loved him.” Alfred murmured through squished lips against the hardwood of his desk. Guilt encompassed the entirety of the American’s being and he twisted and craned his neck to give the eulogy another, quick look over. Alfred let his face bury itself back into the wood of his desk once his spotted the word “cheerful” and he let out an exacerbated heave of a moan, “I made the cute gardener that everyone loved cry...”

           Alfred thumped his head begrudgingly against his desk, regretting every action he’d taken up to that point; how was he going to get himself out of this pit he dug for himself?