#let's just go on a damn american roadtrip together

[leonismaior]

I was tagged in this cute thing by the darling loves @holdmesamthatwasbeautiful ​ and @alexa-alcantara . thank you!♥

Nicknames: ruthie by my friends, mary by my family

Gender: it’s um... complicated. but i currently go for female

Star Sign: leo 

Height: 5’3 

Sexuality: hoo boi. again, complicated. queer most definetely

Hogwarts House: hufflepuff. down to the eternal love for food

Favorite animal: oh nooooooo okay ALL KINDS OF DOGGIES, ALL KINDS OF KITTIES, bunnies and almost any kind of rodent (i mean, have you SEEN CAPYBARAS??!), turtles, ducks, hippos, whales, birds. I just love. all the animals. so much.

Dogs or Cats: i’m a both-person, but i’ve only ever had dogs so i’m kind of biased towards them. (btw my baby Pepper is about to go to surgery to have a kidney stone removed. please, send her all the love. i’m super worried </3)

Number of blankets I sleep with: two, and it’s still summer. you can imagine when it’s winter. and mexico’s not even that cold, but i’m perpetually freezing

Where I’m from: mexico city

Dream Trip: oh god, don’t even get me started. roadtrip all over america, music blasting out and taking millions of pictures, inspired by my boys sam&dean and the 60s beatniks. amsterdam. anywhere and everywhere in italy, la toscana and napoli most of all. those are the ones i daydream almost every day

When I created this account: okay, i just checked and i was sure it had been around 2015. it’s not. february, 2013. i’ve been here for what feels like forever what in the fuck

Why I created this account: ooohhhh well i think i was into all those new pixar and disney and dreamworks movies at the time and i was just so happy to enjoy all the content here? also i think i was beginning to get into doctor who. and obviously, all the harry potter gifs made made me real happy

Followers: 340, and i’m sure most of them are bots hahaha. but i also have so many incredible people following me. i honestly can’t believe you put up with my ass, like, ya’ll are famous!! and amazing!! i love you!! and don’t deserve you!!

i’m tagging @ornaments8 @scandinavianskies @almaquinzel @jardadalecki and @twinksammy if they feel like answering some cute things ♥

[emletish-fish]

The Lawrence-Diazes in season 5 Or what I would have done instead of karate-baby arc.

Baby plots, eh?

No shade meant to anyone who does enjoy them, but they are very rarely my cup of tea. They can occassionally be done well, and they often come at the very end of a narrative (which I guess is a clear sign that Cobra Kai intends to wind down after season 6).

Pregnancy/Future Baby plots normally are about giving a character a typical ‘nuclear family’ happy ending. (This also a very Christian American outlook, and Cobra Kai is uniquely american in many respects. But as a non-american and non-christian, the nuclear family thing doesn’t always connect emotionally with me.)

Babies in TV are normally used as a blank slate or tabula rasa. They symbolise a hopefully better future  - and I get why the writers would want to give Johnny these things, because they do love him as a character.

But I think this might be a case of the writer’s pet, or the writer’s enjoying a character too much - because they are giving Johnny what he Wants, rather than what he Needs. 

Johnny may want a blank page, but what he really needs is to look at what has already been written (accept his mistakes) and then figure out how to make a better ending  - just like that therapist lady said to Kreese (Johnny’s template that he rebels against and succumbs to emulating).

Damn, I love mirror story-telling motifs.

Johnny’s Wants Vs Needs - Let’s go!

Look, just to get it out of the way  -  The last thing Johnny really needs is another kid.  He’s already got two beautiful boys.

Also Johnny really needs therapy, rehab, parenting classes and gainful, secure employment  - like there is a lot that dude actually needs, but that won’t be the focus of this meta.

(That is a whole can of worms on its own).

All that aside, let’s look at what the baby-plot with Johnny is for? What is the purpose narratively?

It’s crucial in several ways.

It serves as a motivation for Johnny to try and get his shit together and clean up his act/get a job.

It completely grounds and focuses Johnny’s story this season on family.

It is dropped on Robby and Miguel after they’ve reconciled to solidify the fact that they are going to be a family and therefore MUST get along.

It is used as an excuse for everyone to go out and celebrate and get drunk (and the party limo shenanigans)

It is used as motivation for Johnny to take out the room of baddies in ep 10.

But...Robby could have been used for pretty much all of these narrative functions.  I’m way more invested in Robby and his happiness than I am in a plot-contrivance fetus.

(Sorry fetus, but you are a plot contrivance to me until proven otherwise. I’ll see what happens next season, but so far my reaction is best summarised by anoush’s sarcastic ‘congrats on procreating’.)

Motivation for Johnny  -

Johnny and Robby just reconciled! Like, they’ve just had this really fun roadtrip,  They got some great stories, got into shenanigans together and had a little adventure together. Some of their issues have been aired but not really dealt with in depth. We haven’t seen them really tackle the elephant in the room regarding their issues - but Robby has made it clear that he wants and needs his Dad in his life.

Imagine if Johnny took this olive branch as the amazing thing it is, and decided he wanted to be more present for his already existing teenage son and turn his life around for Robby’s sake.

 I’d also like for him to realise that he needs to set a better example for both boys because they both need him and look up to him. (Like they’ve both come to him crying and needing dad-reassurance? Neither of them are subtle about how they need Johnny to step into the dad role.) 

Imagine him trying to get a good job so he can better support the boys? Imagine him trying to fix up his apartment so it’s nicer for when Robby comes to stay?

Imagine how much more impactful Johnny’s conversation with Lyle could have been if it was centred around Johnny trying to learn to provide for the two existing teenagers who already need him and learning how to put their needs first?

Lowkey how touched and validated would Robby be if his Dad started making this effort explicitly for him? I think it would ease a lot of his conflict if he finally got treated like he was someone’s priority.

I also think I would help explain his relative chillness in other areas, if his main source of emotional turmoil was being so clearly tended to?

Also wanting to be a better dad to Robby has been Johnny’s Want and Need from the beginning of season 1, so.... you know, follow-through on story arcs and narrative pay off etc etc.

Centering the narrative on family -

I always kinda figured Johnny learning to balance both Robby and Miguel would be a challenge for him, but this was glossed over pretty quickly by the discovery of the baby - which narratively forces both boys into a family situation and they both kinda stop giving Johnny push-back over that from that point on.

but instead imagine if the time was spent on creating a more solid found family vibe? A situation where Robby and Miguel don’t need the spectre of a future half-sibling to get along, but they genuinely connect and feel like brothers of choice?

I love the olive garden and the lame-ass escape room. Dude even roped Rosa into it and I loled. that was all great - I would take a whole episode of this idiot trying to get Robby and Miguel to bond - and how hilarious would it have been if the thing they initially agreed on was how dumb Johnny’s escape room was?

They didn’t need a baby to seal the deal so to speak, when they already share custody of a moron.

I would have preferred it if after Robby and Miguel talk it out on the balcony, Johnny is overly-excited to celebrate them burying the hatchet. I would have him do something off-the-wall like take both the boys to disneyland or whatever. They will bitch and moan about how lame he is (but secretly neither of them have been to disneyland and are actually super excited too.)

I’d have a fun scene or two in disneyland, they boys jointly roast Johnny and discover they actually have a simmilar sense of humor. Maybe the fact fighting over this idiot was the main reason for their antagonism towards each other could be vaguely alluded to. We could see the start of their emerging friendship. They’d take a picture with all three of them and we’d still get our hug.

I would prefer this to PC fetus tbh.  Even though we don’t get a baby, a blended family where everyone gets along because they genuinely like eachother and have dealt with their issues  rather than because an accidental pregnancy forced them into the arrangement is just more emotionally satisfying for me personally.

This season, where the importance of children, biological children was really hammered - it feels like PC Fetus was a shortcut to creating a ‘real’ nuclear family. (At the expense of spending the narrative time to establish a more durable found family).  

Like, I’m completely okay with a blended family for Johnny and I don’t think he needs to have a kid with Carmen to make it a ‘more real’ family.

An excuse for everyone to go out and get drunk and celebrate?

Hello, they just won the sepai taki or whatever. That is reason enough. I love the party limo posse and we can still have that.  Just let them celebrate their incredible achievement and have some fun together? Louie can still get his limo guy and get in on the celebrations and everything else can still proceed as planned.

It is used as motivation for Johnny to take out the room of baddies in ep 10.

This is where I would use the disneyland photo instead of the ultasound photo for extra motivation, but otherwise the scene would play the same.  Sprinkle in a bit of wisdom from Lyle (you’re doing it for them) and Chozen (It’s about what you are fighting for, not what you are fighting against) - and Johnny coming to place where he really wants to fight to keep living because he wants to be there for Robby and Miguel. He wants to be present and be a dad for them and have a future?  He doesn’t want to die and leave them.

I would have been in buckets of tears - like that shit legit gets me.

So yeah, that is what I would do instead of PC Fetus. 

All that said, PC Fetus is my only quibble with what was otherwise a pretty strong season. (It was a wild ride and so much fun).  And my biggest complaint is that it is unnecessary narratively because all the functions of PC Fetus can be done by Robby and/or Miguel.

Johnny worked though a lot of his issues because of approaching PC Fetus this season, but PC Fetus is a blank slate. I feel it would have been more impactful if Johnny worked through his issues with Robby - where he has definitely made mistakes - and begun to really make it up to that kid and accept and grown into his fatherhood role to Robby and Miguel. 

I dunno, I just think that would have been more healing for all of them, but especially for both Robby and Johnny.

It also would have added so much extra depth to Johnny’s final rejection of Kreese. (Rejecting the source of his toxic masculinity which led him to have so many fuck-ups in the fatherhood department - yes please).

I’m not even opposed to Johnny and Carmen having kids in the future, but I would have preferred PC Fetus not take up so much narrative space.  Like, PC fetus can be tacked at the end of season 6 and I’d have no issue with it. I guess the writers felt like they needed to give Johnny a ‘motivation’ to really turn his life around, and PC Fetus is what they went with....

but like, the man already has two boys who need him, who have both broken down recently in his arms -  partly due to his actions?  And he loves them both so much? Couldn’t that be motivation enough for him to try and be better?

As always, YMMV and this is just my interpretation.

[jaskwritesthings]

i do not have the time or energy to write it but i so desperately want a steddie roadtrip fic so here's something along that lines:

the two of them are sitting side by side in eddie's trailer, bleeding bruised and broken on too many levels and vecna is still out there somewhere and the clock chimed four times and maybe the world is gonna end in the next minute but its been ending for a few years now and steve at least can't work up the appropriate level of fear, he's got nothing in the tank after years of this shit, its like riding the same rollarcoaster over and over, eventually the thrills wear off and eddie has too much anxiety in the tank and hasn't stopped shaking since the last riff on his guitar in a fucked up mirror dimension, vibrating in a way that feels like its never gonna stop and maybe steve gets it cause he feels something bending in his soul, bending and cracking dangerously like a rubber band about to snap. so yeah the world is ending again but if they don't get out of hawkins for five freaking minutes they're gonna lose it and -

and so they do, steve has enough tucked away from his shifts and eddie has enough under his bed for a trip, not a long one but some gas money that'll take them beyond state lines and eddies van can just about fit a matteress in the back, curled up at the edges and threatening to launch them into the roof by a force understood only by the nerdiest of the kids and certaintly not the two men who barely fucking scraped by high school but motels are out of their price range and so off they go, hopper and joyce will hold hawkins together for a while, just this once steve is gonna let someone else hold the world together by sheer will and fuck you's. still he doesn't breathe easy for hours, checking the mirrors to see if the world implodes behind them. it doesn't but somewhere in his chest it does over and over…

steve drives and drives through landscapes that don't change and heat that never lets up until eddie snorts on a dry crackling laugh for a sign about the world's largest something or other and steve is turning off the highway before he even realises it cause why not? it's not like they have a plan? might as well. they deserve a good laugh. and fuck it he needs air that isn't pushed through the dashbourd or firing at him at high speeds through the window and its the first sound that eddie's made that's normal and not the left over echo of what they've been through

and its just there, this big stupid terribly made plastic tourist trap that's big but not as massive as the signs would conjure mentally and its terrible and guady and barely worth the pit stop but its so. fucking. normal.

so stupidly american apple pie normal and so so far away from the blood and screaming terror of the upside down that its kind of soothing to just stand there, squinting up at it in the dry heat and they spend half the day there watching the world go by next to this plastic attachment to a glorified public restroom and there are families and screaming children playing games and laughing and yelling about stupid things that don't actually mean anything in the grand scheme of it all and its normal. so god damn stupidly normal.

and by some unspoken agreement they pull out a map and take a shitty too bright pamphlet and mark every big attraction nearby and suddenly they have a plan

cause the world is ending and there's a ticking clock louder than a grandfather clock and steve and eddie need something that isn't wet cloying thundering darkness and snapping bones and falling ash that isn't really ash or anything terrestrial. something normal

so plastic shitty roadside attractions and room temperature gas station junk food and coffee that's sludge and grains it is. and somewhere between an angled mattress that keeps rolling them together no matter what they do and steve's hand on eddie's ever bouncing knee they become something more than friends and trench buddies thrown together by circumstance and kids with too much heroics and not enough self-preservation instincts and eddie is curling into him in the night without gravity and mattress springs to guide him and steve is actually listening when eddie talks about d&d instead of using it as white noise and the tapes become a mix of guitars and pop with only a little grumbling from eddie and they make a them. it's not a varsity jacket and going steady. it's not roses and dates. its shitty dinners and eddies threadbare band shirts that steve doesn't know but they're soft and smell like weed and sweat and a new kind of home. and it's the indents of eddie's rings in his skin and one of robin's hair ties that he's had in his pocket since the mall and now it's in eddie's hair and around his wrist. and its eddie way too close cause he never learned personal space and steve doesn't mind and grabs him and keeps him close and marvels in the full body laugh and the heartbeat under his skin. and its cigarettes and joints shared and held to each other's lips while one of them keeps their hands on the wheel and teasingly moved and chased and the grumbling that's worth a damn cause they can't help but smile at the other's antics. and its them.

just them.

and when he calls dustin and gets the inevitable speech to come home cause something is happening they do and they arrive a little lighter, a little less fucked up and the breaths come easier and they lean on one another as the world ends around them

[angelinthefire]

Destiel fic rec list: Things I've bookmarked in the last 6 weeks

There is zero theme to this. Just fics that I've read recently and enjoyed.

The Trapdoor by hal_incandenza: This one is a WIP and it's only getting started. But it's already incredibly interesting. An alternate s13 that deals with the aftermath of Dean letting Cas posses him, it's difficult to describe the story because I'm not sure where it's going yet. But it's already very tense, very mysterious, and feels deeply in-character. And I haven't even mentioned the way that the author plays with format, promising to break the narrative frame. I'm really looking forward to seeing where this one goes.

our lights in ashes by teen_dean: A post-15x19 fic that transports you to its world. As Dean is grieving, he goes on a road trip with Jack through the American South, solving cases and chasing the apparition of Cas. Meanwhile, Cas is trapped in an alternate plane of existence, searching for a way to get back to his family. This fic mixes Southern Gothic with cosmic philosophy to great effect. There's a reunion scene in chapter seven that does something different from what we normally see, that I went back and reread mulitple times. A fantastic combination of case fic and overarching narrative, where each individual case captures your attention, even as you're wondering, when are Dean and Cas going to get back together?

Don't Stop, Make It Pop by dumbassnatural: Cas gets TikTok famous posting videos about being gay. Sounds like crackfic, but it's a very well-balanced and sensitive exploration of Cas' feelings about his sexuality and identity; Dean coming to terms with retirement, parenthood, and his own sexuality; and Jack's need for positive reinforcement. And the slow-burn between Dean and Cas is excruciating. This is a WIP so go read it, and give the author some love and encouragement.

The Way You Did Once Upon A Dream by @icefire149: This fic goes in quite a different direction with its exploration of grief, and I love it. It doesn't shy away from the way grief hurts relationships, and the way that sometimes, you don't recover from it. The way it alternates between Dean's fantasy and the harsh reality is very effective. But my favourite thing about it is actually the way it treats Dean and Jack's relationship, how the author lets Jack be angry.

The Eightiesnatural series by spiderglass: There's two fics in this series: One Flash of Light (But No Smoking Pistol), and put on your red shoes (and dance the blues). They're roadtrip fics that have that relaxed road-trip-fic vibe that I love. But I'm rec'ing them mainly because they redefine the genre of songfic. It's a love letter to eighties music, and I've never read a fic that incorporates music so damn well in every scene, where every song sets the mood perfectly, and where the music is described so effectively.

[soclonely]

Why would you brag about Oklahoma? Its nothing but a conservative hotbed of a state.

While I agree and it totally sucks that part sometimes, the younger generation of Okies in my area are pretty openly liberal. Things are slowly changing all over the place and I will always have hope for the future generation of my home. And with that...

The Clones As Things I Love About My Homestate

Rex- Nothing beats watching the sunrise and sunset on the plains. Theres something peaceful about the sound of the wind in the grass, the smell, the views Echo- Bricktown, OKC! Bricktown was the main warehouse district for the area and once it was sort of done with, the area was abandoned and run down for a few years. That changed when they started updating the abandoned buildings and now its a booming entertainment district with amazing restaurants, shops, and a little canal. Fives- Hockey scenen is actually pretty tight! OKC has the Blazers, and Tulsa has an ECHL team, the oilers! The youth hockey and figure skating is also growing nicely.  Jesse- Route 66. The classic american roadtrip. I have ridden the entire thing and let me tell you it really can be amazing. Every little small town is warm and welcoming and will immediately dive into the history of route 66 in their town if you ask.  Kix- Some of the coolest local shops and products in almost every town.  Tup- Softball BAYBEEEEE. OKC is home to the International Softball Complex and the softball hall of fame Dogma-Oklahoma has 11,611 miles of shoreline, more than the combined non-tidal coasts of the Atlantic and the Gulf of Mexico. Hardcase- SOME OF THE BEST DAMN FOOD YOU COULD ASK FOR. Sonic, Braums, Jimmy’s egg, Hideaway Pizza ( @ct7567329 confirmed) Coric- OKLAHOMA! The musical.  Bly- Turner Falls is a popular place to go swim and explore.  99-The Native American culture you can experience in all areas of the state. Seriously guys. I am a member of the Chickasaw Nation (bio mom being a seminole/chickasaw ) And I am always amazed going to the centers of tribes and embracing the history and culture with so many others. Its a great way to support tribes by donating, learning about the history, spreading awareness, and buying local products from Native owned stores and shops. We may not be able to change history but we sure as hell can redirect the future to a brighter one. Cody- The Honey Bee is our state insect. PROTECT THE BEES! Waxer/Boil- We got some pretty cute critters around, and some not cute ones. But Oklahoma’s wildlife is so diverse! Wolffe- During tornado season, it doesn’t matter who you are, what your beliefs are, or what you follow we all look out for one another. Storms have a way of devastating lives, My family lost not one but TWO houses in major tornados and the warmth and love I remember from neighbors and strangers alike when we were rebuilding our community together will always hold a special place in my heart. Tornado Alley crowd bands together and we watch one another. Boost/Sinker- We are the ONLY state with an official state meal:  Fried okra, squash, cornbread, barbecue pork, biscuits, sausage and gravy, grits, corn, strawberries, chicken-fried steak, pecan pie, and black-eyed peas and its all Delicious! Hunter- Watching Bison as you drive through one of the wildlife preserves. They are free range and get so close to your car sometimes, its surreal.  Wrecker- BOOMER SOONER. Proud OU football fan, but the band is really the coolest(Sorry to THE Ohio State University band) Tech- Gordon Matthews, born in Tulsa, was the inventor of an electronic communication system to store audio messages patented in 1982. We know it as voicemail. Thanks to an Okie, you don’t have to answer your phone when people call and can just leave a message! Crosshair- 4 mountain ranges have sections in Oklahoma, Ouachitas, Arbuckles, Wichitas and the Ozarks. I love hiking in them all! 

[wardofroe]

It’s All Yoghurt Baby!

July 8th, 2020: Around 4 AM.

Roe yaaaaaawns aloud as she shake, shake, shake, shakes these chia seeds into her yogurt, having gotten the call that Ros was on the way sooon, it being way to early or late? Earlaaate? Huh. Making her way to dig a spoon out of the drawer giving it a huff of breath and rubbing it against her wife beater, avoiding the nips, not needing that on top of this alllll...taking a deep dip into her yogurt as she hears the offbeat knocking slowly trailing her way over to the door buuut not before the puppers did, trying to work her mind magic to settle her somewhat to no avail, alasssss, slapping the back of her hand along her forehead as she dramatically leans back at the hufflefluff of a predicament, unchaining and unlocking the door to let Ros in, and keep puppers in, sign her olympics app now, ladies and germs! Double clapping his hands in a erratic way before sealing the whole thing off with a patented hip Bump!

Ros gives the knock that he was feelin’ that day, something between Bootylicious and Edge of Seventeen, though for the first three seconds, were they Not the same song, before injecting a bit of 100 Gecs right into there, for the hell of it, humming the triple hybridized melody out as he strings it together in his mind and that rap-rap-rap at the door, his eyes drifting closeddddd before they flash right open as his sister opens the door, seeing His Boy, first, in the split second that his gaze moves downwards as he hears the bark before they easily, naturally drift upwards as he seamlessly moves into the hip bump, his the edges of the rightmost corner of his lips peaking upwards as he claps Roe’s hands back into an Impromptu Secret Handshake he made up right there the spot, finishing it off with a little Snap! For the flair of it all, why the hell nottt, before clicking his tongue a bit, the rightmost corner of his lips moving upwards into a lil bit of amusement, as a Treat, the little gap in the middle of his two front teeth exposed in the middle of his signature smile. “This Phase YB is going through...postmodern and thought provoking as Hell,” he offers like it was Nothing, just a casual, obvious observation even as he cocks his thumb downwards at definitely Not his Favorite Boy, definitely YB, on some cool ass new Fashion Shit, that definitely was inspiring him on a level of Obvious Truth but maybe probably making him want to try his hand at making a piece for her to merge the truth and Definitely The Truth of what was going on here, hmm...

Roe slaps right with the best of them another yaaaawn shaking through her after the final impromptu light cheek clap to tie the whole thing together, dipping her spoon into the yoguuurt and into her mouth...mmmm...slowly drawing it out as she sees Ros’ connecting the Dots face pull, subtle but not so subtle, swallowing the greatness as she rubs at her eye, straightening her back some, “Why don’t you take Her in the guest room and talk allll About It? I’m guessing that’s why you couldn’t wait to stop in; cereal would be So disappointed but...YB versus cereal? She’s gonna devour it...” Roe sadly finishes off with a slow shake of her head to the Truth of It all.

"Cereal Gets It, it's YB, it's all Frosty," Ros easily replies back with a snap of his fingers for Emphasis, Pow, before moving to The Whistle even as he weaves in a song YB had showed him because it was Definitely Her there, Obviously, and this wasn't the time to be passed the Whistle Aux Chord and be playing Shit, it was a Lifechanging, Momentous Roadtrip they were embarking on, those soul-changing, illuminating five feet to the guest room, making like an Introspective Complicated™ White Man in a Great American Novel and embarking on that Journey of a Lifetime with YB Definitely, that he'd come back a changed Man™ from, after receiving his moment of Catharsis, that or getting Surprise Killed Off three pages before the end of the Story, who knew, it was a Wild World out there in the world of Americana™ through the lens of White Men Trying To Be Deep, he muses, as he closes the guest door behind him....

Roe watches as Ros movessss so Weird, her eyes squinting some as she tries to keep them open, but Was It Realllllly Though? tapping the inside of her yogurt container as she walks back to her room two yogurt dips later drawing the spoon out as she flops back onto her bed, seeing Julien moving around as she rolls on her side towards him her hand propping her head as she points the spoon towards him, “Wassssaaa. Yoghuuurt, Julen?”

Julien blinks his eyes a bit as he slowlyyyyy comes back into consciousness, surprisingly not feeling the weight of a certain Someone on top of him, wondering where he had gotten off to...letting out a soft yawn as he cups his hand over his mouth, blinking away some of the last clinging bits of being halfway between the sleeping and waking worlddd, as a grin pokes its way onto his lips as he sees the Offer. “It’s all Yogurt, Babyyy...” He sleepily, yet playfully offers back to the wassaaa, clicking his tongue a bit and giving a little snap of his fingers to add a lil Flare to it, before taking a bite from the spoon, Damn was it good, was it always this good or was it a new flavor, before rolling a bit over to get into a better angle to loop up at Roe. “Wasssa right back?”

[ikesenhell]

1985 Camaro

AMERICAN DREAM, Chapter 2. You can find all other IkeSen works of mine here. NOTES: Brief conversation about prior death, otherwise safe. Thank you @missjudge-me for commissioning this piece!

---

They camped out on the back patio until the sun set. He cooked gyoza and rice balls and some pan-fried chicken, and she ordered ice cream delivery, and they nested their knees together and tucked into a pint of something labeled ‘Just Ask’ and when he asked, she wouldn’t tell him, not even when he tickled her (It wound up being a delicious caramel-Oreo flavor). She instead told him about her degree and moving out, about keeping in contact with Mitsunari as he served in Tanzania through hand-written notes on origami paper. They swapped curated Instagram snapshots and embarrassing anecdotes and reminisced. 

“I’m sorry,” she said finally. “About your dad.”

Masamune shrugged. There was nothing to say. It hurt and always would, but that was his private journey. “Old bastard waited too long to have kids s’what. If he’d had me at a nice, respectable age, we wouldn’t be doing this, the old coot!” He waved a dramatic fist at the sky, relishing her giggles. “You fucked up!”

Overhead, his mother’s bedroom light flicked on. 

“Shit,” he muttered. She dropped her face into her hands to stifle the raucous laughter. 

“How—” Now she was whispering. Masamune wriggled closer, their legs reflexively entwining. “How’s that going?”

“Better than it used to. We can talk without yelling. Something something time and distance. I’m planning on hunkering down here for a little bit, and once all of the stuff is settled, I’ll probably go back north. The restaurant owners offered to hold my position for me, which is really nice.” 

“Hell yeah it is. Isn’t that kind of a cut throat world? They must love you.”

“Yeah. Good openings don’t stay open long in the restaurant biz, so that’s really cool.” Absently, he ran his thumb over the whorls of the deck. “What about you? What’s next?”

“Well.” And she paused, eyes luminous. “I got offered a job interview out east. It’s a good job.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Once upon a time, when she was too nervous to really settle her heart on something she wanted, she smiled shyly and fluttered her eyes away. Some things stayed the same. His heart surged as the familiar expression played out before him. “It could be a game changer for me.”

“That the case, huh?”

“Yeah. I mean, I have to do some logistics, and I have to interview, right? But if I get it…” She stretched up to the sky, wriggling her fingers long at the clouds, all the prickled flesh on her arms visible in the cold moonlight. Without thinking, he shuffled closer to warm her. “I mean, I have to actually get to the interview first, so there’s the first hurdle.”

Masamune chewed his lip. “How far out is it?”

“It’s in Virginia. Complete other side of the country. The plane tickets are outrageous.”

“Damn. Guess you’re road tripping, huh?”

A gust of warm breath huffed from her lips. “I mean, I hate going on them alone, but I don’t even have a car right now. Mine got totaled; kid hit me when I was driving down here. Guess I’m taking a damn greyhound.”

His first reaction was to say ‘yikes’, and then… well. Masamune paused, soaking in the possibilities. “So you need a car is what you’re saying?”

“Mmhmm.”

Back in the day, his dad often said that the universe lined things up. Masamune didn't exactly believe in fate—he believed in making things happen—but occasionally, he saw the reasoning. 

“How do you like eighties cars?” He asked. 

She eyed him, a smile in her eyes and voice. “Like the Camaro? Sure, it’s cool. Why?”

Masamune snickered. “Everything in the Date family is cool as hell. What if I told you I could get you a car and a road trip buddy?”

The click of her brain working was almost audible. “Don’t you have to be here?”

“Gotta wait for the death certificates, which is probably a week or so. Mom wants the Camaro gone, and if she has to be around me too long, she’ll probably get sick of me real quick. I might as well make myself scarce and hang out with a dear friend. Besides—I’ll cut you a deal on selling you it. Call it a test drive.”

“A test drive? For like, a week?” But she was grinning, her shoulders angled in toward his. “Weeklong test drives aren’t kosher, Mr. Date.”

“And I’m not Jewish.”

“Are you being serious right now?”

“Serious as my dad’s grave.” Masamume brushed a lock of stray hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. “Want me along for the ride?”

Once upon a time, years ago, the whole gang got into an altercation with an older man in a Ford pickup. They were only teenagers sitting on a dock, but the guy pulled up and screamed at them for ‘loitering’. Mitsunari tried to intervene, and when the man acted like he might hit him, Ieyasu almost threw hands himself. They’d retreated into the woods—and when the man left, Masamune, Mitsuhide, and she went back and lit the dock on fire to spite him. Right beforehand, she’d fixed him with the most mischievous expression he’d ever seen: mouth sucked into her teeth, eyes glittering, staring out from under her lashes. 

Now, she made that same expression, and it lit a fire in him. 

“We’d have to leave like…” She mentally calculated. “In three days to make it.”

“Or we could take the long road, do a little sightseeing, and leave tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” She echoed. Only a half second later, that smile was back. “I’m game.”

---

At six a.m. sharp, Masamune tried to wake her by flinging rocks at her window. That didn't work. At last he resorted to calling her, discovering that she stayed in a completely different room now. 

“Could’a used that knowledge,” he chuckled, hopping in place to warm his legs. The fog pressed in around him, September chill early this year. “Don’t suppose anyone is using that room?”

Her voice was thin, but warm over the phone. “No, it’s a home gym now.” 

“Great! I didn't hassle anyone else. Get out here, Kitten, we got a road to get on.”

She emerged twenty minutes later, sweatpants fresh from the dryer, wet hair in a sloppy bun and a suitcase click-clacking behind her. She never was a morning person. Masamune snickered and popped the Camaro trunk. “Wanna drive, or wanna let me do it?”

“You start. Can we get some Starbucks?”

“Ugh.” He clutched his chest, mock-wounded. “All of the coffee places in the world, and you want Starbucks. My palate is crying.”

Rolling her eyes, she slid into the passenger seat. “Drama queen.”

They got Starbucks. She tucked her feet into fuzzy socks and folded them under her knees, clutching the large mocha. Only the rush of the road beneath their tires filled the silence. Asphalt and trees emerged from the mist like a benevolent ghost, Americana obscured. They’d only just merged onto the highway when Masamune realized there wasn’t an audio jack in the car.

“Shit,” he muttered. 

She opened her eyes, head lolling on the headrest. “What?”

He flicked the dashboard. Nope, no audio jack. Not even a CD player. No; amidst all the toggles and buttons of the dash was a cassette player. “I don’t have anything to listen to. This thing won’t hook up to the phones, and I don’t have any tapes.”

“Hm.” Taking a long sip of her drink, she mused, “Maybe your dad has some in here?”

“I guess that’d make sense. Take a look around, would you?”

Sure enough, she was right. Tucked away in the glove compartment was a treasure trove: Fleetwood Mac, Eagles, AC/DC, Prince, Michael Jackson, Bruce Springsteen. “Damn,” she chuckled, “Your dad had good taste.”

Masamune took the copy of Rumors in his fingers, never taking his eyes off the road. The dust was thick under his thumb. “He’d play ‘Back in Black’ when he picked me up from school. It was cool as hell.” With a snap, he pried open the copy of Rumors and popped it into the player. The speakers hummed to life with strumming guitar, Fleetwood Mac echoing. “I know there’s nothing to say, someone has taken my place…” She rested her elbow on the center console, brushing his arm with her as she texted. 

“Guess what?” She murmured. “Mitsunari just got back from Tanzania.”

“Oh shit, really?” How long had it been? Masamune mentally calculated the dates. “I guess it has been two years, huh? The Peace Corps finally turned him loose?”

“Yeah. He’s apparently crashing at Ieyasu’s place—” Masamune barked a laugh, and she tittered, but continued, “—and wants to know if we’re going to head that direction.”

“He’s in Maryland, right?” Fishing out his phone, he checked it. “Yasu didn't tell me about this. Bastard. Well, we get there fast enough, then we can definitely hunker down there for a day or so and celebrate his coming back.”

Classic rock kept them company on the long drive. He didn't mind roadtrips. There was something sacred about them. Forget the American Dream; it was dead. Long live the American Road Trip, a rite of passage for the lost souls from sea to shining sea. Nothing cleared the senses like cranking up the heater on the floorboards and rolling down the window to a blast of autumn air. She let down her hair and it whipped wild in the wind. 

Thank God she was here. Masamune quietly relished her reappearance in his life. She was a gateway to an old world, one with his father alive, one where he still snuck out of the house at night and biked to the 7-Eleven for slurpees at 3a.m. They stopped at a Cracker Barrel for dinner and ordered root beer floats and roasted each other over the annoying ‘jump-the-pegs’ game perched on every table. Though you were supposed to reduce it to one peg, she couldn’t quite manage it. Somehow she kept getting two or three. 

“I got it down to one peg once,” she laughed, shoving it toward him. Masamune swirled it under his hand. 

“I can do it,” he commented. “But that’s because Mitsunari taught me the trick years ago.” He knocked the first peg out of the top of the triangle, moving it elsewhere. “That’s the one that’s gotta be empty. From there on out, there’s a set solution.”

She craned over it, investigating. “What’s the set solution?”

A long, hefty pause lingered between them as he slurped some of his float. 

“Dunno anymore.” He cracked a grin. “I forgot like, eight years ago.”

“Ass! Then you don’t know!” She swatted at his arm and grinned. “Liar!”

“Hey! I was just trying to look cool in front’a you, Kitten, I can’t look like some big dumb stud after all these years—”

“I love how you allow for the possibility that you’re dumb,” she cackled, “but not the possibility that you’re anything other than hot.”

“Am I wrong? Look at me.”

The roll of her eyes was exactly what he wanted. She shoved a biscuit at him over the table. “I think Mark Twain said something like, ‘it’s better to stop talking and appear dumb than open your mouth and remove any doubt’, Masamune.”

He clutched at his chest, but took the biscuit anyway. “You wound me, Kitten.”

As they were paying the bill, she split off and reappeared a minute later, plunking thirty cents onto the cash register and tucking a cinnamon stick into his jacket pocket. “Here.”

“My favorite!” He peeled back the plastic wrapper. “Thanks, Kitkat. You remembered.”

For the first time since they’d seen each other again, her expression evolved to one he’d almost forgotten. He’d only seen it once before. It was a moonlit night back in their senior year, after prom, when they were both lingering in the pool as everyone else passed out drunk. He’d wiped a leaf from her hair and told her she was beautiful, and she’d looked at him like that so long and hard that he wondered if he’d ever known her inner thoughts at all. 

“Of course I remembered,” she answered at last, soft and clarion clear. “I remember all kinds of things about you, Masamune.”

[abovethesmokestacks]

A Home For the Heart

Title: A Home For the Heart

Pairing: Hal Carter x reader

Rating: General audiences

For @the-ss-horniest-book-club Drunk Drabbles picture prompt special. My image prompt (seen here below) was sent in by @marvelgirl7, and it... got away from me. I still hope you like it!

He almost scares the living daylights out of her. The small train station is all but empty, and she’s pacing the platform, rubbing her arms to stave of the chill drawing in. September slowly bled away until suddenly she seemed to wake up in October. Leaves have already started falling from the trees and it will get colder. There was a plan, she was going to go places, there was going to be an adventure. Now she’s here, halfway to the middle of nowhere, no money for train fare, and yet she can’t make herself move away from the platform. 

A cargo train pulls in, the brakes jarring and making her cringe. Maybe that’d be something. Train hopping like a drifter, going from place to place. Living the great American roadtrip on the rails, experience the world as she never would have before. 

She’s lost in some romanticized dream of what it might be like when a gentle hand shakes her shoulder. The squeak she lets out might possibly be described as more of a shriek, but she claps a hand over her mouth, the dream lost in favour of a worst case scenario where she won’t ever leave town, let alone this platform.

“Sorry if I scared ya, miss.”

There is a man standing next to her, rugged and a little travel worn, with bright blue eyes regarding her under a long fringe that is just shy of being able to be swept behind his ears. There’s a rip in his shirt, a duffel slung over his shoulder that looks like it’s staying together by hope alone, scuffed boots on his feet. 

“I tried calling out for ya, you look a little lost,” he offers, removing his hand and taking a step back. “I’m Hal Carter, miss.”

“I’m...” She fumbles for words. Does she offer her name? “I’m... lost.”

Hal smiles, shoves his hands into the pockets of his faded jeans, “Well, I know this place pretty well, so if you need directions, I can probably help.”

It prompts a story. Because directions, yes, she could use them, but they would all lead to places with things she can’t afford because her last bit of cash was stolen, and food and shelter generally require funds. Hal nods, and though her cheeks heat with the shame of having to admit she has no money, no plan, no idea what to do, he doesn’t berate her, doesn’t dismiss her.

“C’mon,” he says, motioning with his hand for her to follow.

He is a stranger. He could be dangerous. But there is an ease to his expression, a flash of something like kinship in his eyes. She can at least walk a bit with him. Walking will keep her warm. She’ll need it.

“It’s tough being out on the road alone,” he tells her as they leave the station behind. “Been doing it myself most of the past season. Hopped on a train, rode until I got somewhere, worked for anyone who needed a hand, moved on when I wanted. Frightens me every damn time to get off that train.”

They exchange stories. A carnival down in New Orleans. Farms dotted all over the Midwest. The forests of the Olympic Peninsula. Trains and car rides and travels that have neither a beginning nor an ending. She doesn’t even notice they’ve strayed from the road leading into town, instead walking along a smaller dirt road. She’s about to ask where they’re headed, fear simmering in the pit of her stomach when she looks ahead where the road bends into a gentle downhill curve. It opens up to a landscape she could only have dreamt about. A worn wooden rail lines the road with string lights wrapped around them, pumpkins and lit lanterns dotting the way down to a red farmhouse nestled in a little clearing before a sprawling forest that burns with red and yellows and browns.

“W-Who lives here? Is it another job for you?” she asks, mouth agape as she takes in the sight, the warmth radiating from the picturesque setting.

Hal only smiles, keeps trudging down the road. She can do nothing but follow, looking up only when she hears a door open and spots a woman stepping out onto the porch, arms crossed over her chest.

“And what time do you call this?” the woman calls out to Hal, mirth and playful irritation mixing in the lilt of her accent.

“What can I say, trains don’t always run on time. Told you I’d be home on the 11th, though, didn’t I?” Hal replies, hurrying up to the woman and pressing a kiss to her cheek.

With a “hmph”, the woman turns her gaze from Hal. “And who do we have here?”

She wants to shrink away from the attention, but Hal come back down to join her, wraps an arm around her, “Ma, this is our guest. She’ll be staying for a bit til she can get back on her feet.”

Ma? She tries hard not to let her eyes bulge. Ma doesn’t seem to even bat an eyelash, only tells them both to get on inside and out of the cold. It’s a bit of a blur from there on out; she’s shown to a room, offered some warmer clothes and a chance to wash off the dirt of the road, and when Hal knocks on her door to suggest something warm to drink, she already feels like she’s been here for weeks.

“You live here?” she asks later. They’re back on the porch, each wrapped in a blanket with a mug of hot apple cider cupped between their hands. “She’s your... She’s-”

“Oh, no, she’s not my ma. Not my real one. I’ve known her since I was a kid, my own mother wasn’t- I just kept calling her Ma so often that it stuck,” Hal explains, looking down at his mug. “She takes care of the place while I’m away. ‘S been hard keeping this place going, but I couldn’t bear getting rid of it. So for the summers, I roam around. I see the country, work like a dog, while Ma takes care of the place. Sharp as a tack that one. She keeps hoping one day I’ll stop. Says it’s no good for the soul to be as uprooted as mine. Keep telling her I gotta find something to make me stay first.”

She looks around, from the illuminated path to the barns and golden fields that lie like muted gold in the fading light. “I don’t think I could ever leave,” she confesses, taking another sip of the cider, eyes fluttering close at combination of rich spices and tangy apples.

“You’re free to stay as long as you’d like, ‘s long as you don’t mind lending a hand.”

“Of course.”

She thinks maybe it’ll be a few days. A few weeks. Maybe a month or two, tops. But like September vanished seemingly unnoticed, so does time. She helps out during the days, sometimes with Ma, sometimes with Hal. Some days, she wanders around, goes into town, but never once does she feel the call of the trains passing through. There are dinners and lunches and stolen glances and lingering touches. There are pumpking pies and first snow and a warm hand in hers around a table laden with food. There’s Hal and talks on the porch and snowball fights that end in both of them soaked to the bone and Ma shaking her head like they’re teenagers and whispering things to him that make him blush. There’s a new year, coldsnaps and a sprained ankle, and one February night there is a kiss so brief that if it weren’t for her tingling lips, she thinks she might have dreamt it.

Everything melts. The snow. Her heart. The seasons are turning, and she wakes one night feeling like the last flash of winter is holding her heart in an icy grip, filling it with a dread that has her knocking on Hal’s bedroom door in the middle of the night. When he opens, he barely gets a word out before her arms are slung around his neck, face pressing against the warmth of his chest.

“What’s the matter?”

I gotta find something to make me stay first.

“Please, stay. I don’t want to leave, I don’t want you to leave. Please, I can’t, I don’t want to go back.”

“Sweetheart...”

“Hell, I don’t have anything to go back to at this point, I don’t know what to do,” she rambles on, clinging to him as if he might at any moment dismiss her and push her away.

Her heart nearly breaks when he steps away from her, holds her steady so he can look at her. It’s going to happen. No more days working. No more dinners. No more nagging him with Ma. No more talks on the porch. No more kisses.

“Sweetheart, look at me... It’s okay, you’re okay, please, lemme look at you.” Even in the dark, she can tell the exact shade of blue in his eyes. “I’m gonna be honest with you, okay? I had almost forgot that I usually leave in the next two months. In... God, in four months, I haven’t thought about it once. You know what I have thought about? You. You and how I want to show you everything. I barely even know how this place works in the summer months, and Ma will chew me out for every bit I don’t know, but god, I want to be here with you. I want us to be here.”

“You said you always left,” she says, voice small and nearly muffled against his skin.

“Because this never felt like a proper home. Ma’s here, and I love her, but there’s... a lot of memories attached to this place. And sooner or later they begin to eat at me. So I leave. I leave so I can come back and live in this house without a shadow constantly weighing on me. But darling, you’ve... I don’t remember this house ever being this happy. From the day you came home with me from the train station, you made me feel at home. And I was fearful you’d leave eventually. ‘S not a glamorous life after all, and I’d’ve understood if it wasn’t for you. I still do. But as long as you want to stay, I’ll stay with you. And if ever you want to leave, I want you to know, I ain’t gonna keep you from the road. But this house...” He cups your face, smiling like he’s about to fall to pieces before you. “This house is a home because of you.”

“You... won’t leave?” It’s the only thing she can think of, the only thing she can focus on, hope bubbling like sparkling wine inside her.

Hal smiles, closes the distance to kiss her soft and sweet, lifting her up and swaying them around. “How could I leave when there’s a home for my heart now?”

[thiswasinevitableid]

Run Away with Me

Happy Moschicane week! Todays prompt was roadtrip/travel so of course I had to have them running from the law.  The lyrics at the beinning, and some details of the scene, are taken from Waylon Jennings, Live! by the Mountain Goats, which gives me major Moschicane vibes.

Drunk at the Meskwaki casino

Right where God intended me to be

Ned Chicane lays on his back against the seen-better-days bedspread. The air conditioning hums uselessly as he stares up at the map he’s pinned to the ceiling (he thinks better like this, it’s like being under a car, looking at the pieces as they fit together). Far below, somewhere in the adjoining casino, the twang of a guitar curls through the smoky air.

He has no interest in gambling (as Boyd points out, if they wanted money from the place there are ways of acquiring with far better odds of success), only made it through one drink before the smoke of the restaurant made him long for the stale air of the room.  He doesn’t mind the smell of smoke, not when it’s attached to familiar skin or drifting off a borrowed piece of clothing.

There are tell-tale footsteps at the door and he doesn’t even look up when Boyd enters. He knows it’s him.

“Never understood why you lot decided it was worth coming out here. Dusty, god-forsaken place, the midwest”

Weight on the bed, a thunk as sturdy shoes are tossed somewhere in the room.

“Are you referring to Americans as a whole, or to me, specifically?”

“The first one. Know bloody well why you’re here.”

“Come now, would you have passed up a chance to steal an Oscar?” Ned turns to look at Boyd, still perched on the edge of the bed. The taller man regards him with a steely gaze before a smile cracks across his face.

“From that smug bastard? Not a chance.”  He falls onto his back beside Ned. Their hands find one another without needing to look. It’s too hot to touch more than that.

“Still, would’ve preferred it not lead us fleeing cross-country like a pair of cowards.”

“Speak for yourself, Boyd, I’m a coward and shall remain such until I die. Live to rob another day, and all that.”

Boyd barks out a laugh. Scoots close enough to touch shoulders

“Any thoughts?” He points a finger up at the map.

“Not as of yet. I don’t suppose your investigation of the border proved fruitful?”

“Don’t laugh, but our best chance is just to gamble on the passports and go for it. Sure we could try to sneak through, but I don’t like our odds.”

“I see…” Ned chews a nail, considers the map.

“Or we could cut our losses, settle down in Iowa, and remake ourselves as respectable members of society.”

There’s a beat after Boyd says this where they look at each other. Then they burst out laughing.

“That’s rich, my friend, quite rich.” Ned wipes a tear from under his eye.

“Yeah, just like we woulda been if we’d stolen something from that bugger that wasn’t an impossible to fence award. Lord, who’da thought he had the pull to send half the fucking police after us. Or that you’d get the Lincoln caught on a camera trap.” There’s no power behind the jab, instead it’s almost fond, as if Boyd truly doesn’t mind running half-way across the country with him in a rented car.

“My poor, faithful, Lincoln, it must be so lonely at that garage.”

Boyd pats his hand.

“There, there love, we’ll go back for the old girl soon enough.”

Silence, then, but for the whirring of the A/C and Boyd clicking a lighter.

“You’re not much of a coward, you know that right?”

Ned turns to see Boyd, now resting against the headboard, looking at him with something dangerously close to sincerity.

“I beg your pardon, my cowardice is legendary.”

“Coward woulda been panicked finding me robbing-”

“-burglarizing”

“Whatever, the same house he was. Wouldn’t have been decent and gentlemanly like you were. And sure as hell wouldn’t have bothered helping me over that fence. Woulda saved his own hide and nothing else.”

“Maybe I’m only brave when it comes to you.” Ned says softly.

They’re no longer bordering on sincerity, they’re drowning in it, and Boyd seems to realize that at the same time he does.

“Coward wouldn’t turn his back on me long enough to let me fuck him, that’s for damn sure.” Boyds grin is as crooked as he is and Ned scoots up to sit next to him just so he can kiss it.

“Point is, love, I can’t bring myself to be too bothered by our current predicament.” He pulls Ned into his arms, neither of them caring about the heat anymore as they regard the map together.

“We come up with a plan, we always do. Find a way to fix things just how we need them to be.”

Ned looks at the man beside him, the warmth in his chest more pleasant than the one in the air.

“You know, Boyd, I do believe you’re right.”

[afjakwritesarchive]

Another Flavor: 1

Story Summary: When Alfred Jones’ summer plans are thwarted by his estranged stepfather’s annual trip to France, he is less than thrilled. However, the discovery of Francis’ abundant relatives may just make him change his tune.

Or, Alfred Jones spends a month being repeatedly seduced by his stepfather’s ridiculously attractive relations.

Read below or on AO3.

"Alfred?"

The American in question took a headphone out of his ear and turned to his new stepfather, who was smiling kindly at him and holding up a granola bar. Alfred blinked at it for a moment, looking to the hopeful face of Francis and grimacing in return. He accepted it with a slight roll of his eyes and muttered something that sounded vaguely like a thank you as he opened it. Francis beamed at his stepson before turning back to Alfred's father, who squeezed the hand holding his.

It was common knowledge that Alfred was indifferent towards Francis. Although Alfred had tried sincerely to like Francis and the Frenchman had taken every opportunity to make it possible, the American just couldn't find it in him to be fond of Francis. He'd put on a good face and acted happy for his father's sake when Francis and Arthur had started dating because he knew his father liked him, and, if he was honest, Alfred had never expected them to be together for more than a few months, let alone four years.

However, the facade of happiness was much harder to maintain with the Frenchman around constantly, and it became apparent very quickly after Francis moved in that Alfred disliked him. At first, Alfred had been okay with the addition to their home; Francis was an amazing cook, and if there was one thing Alfred loved, it was food. But even good food couldn't distract Alfred from the changes happening in their home. Arthur didn't pay half as much attention to Alfred as he used to, and although Alfred was relieved that his father was no longer nagging him day and night about cleaning this and ironing that, it seemed as though his father never spoke to Alfred about things he actually wanted to talk about, either. Arthur had already been distracted by Francis before, but now that they lived together, it was awful. Arthur was barely involved at all in Alfred's life by the time the American's senior year began, leaving Alfred home alone several nights a week for date nights, missing countless sports events of Alfred's, and even having no idea that Alfred and his long-time girlfriend, Natalya, had broken up, despite Alfred's numerous attempts to tell him.

In short, Alfred was jealous of Francis. He took up all of his father's time, and once Francis proposed, it became even worse. A conversation between Alfred and his father that lasted more than ten minutes was increasingly rare, and any expression of emotion between them had long since fled. Thusforth, Alfred's standoffish attitude multiplied by ten, and Francis slowly became used to the one-word replies, polite but never affectionate greetings and goodbyes, and tense atmosphere whenever they were alone together.

To make matters worse, Arthur and Francis had announced that they would be spending an entire month in France for the summer, ruining some of Alfred's plans and forcing him to postpone his self-titled 'Totally Kickass Post-Senior Year Hero Roadtrip' with all of his best friends, an event he'd been looking forward to since sophomore year. And it wouldn't just be them, either. Francis' entire family was making the trip to France to spend a month together in some random house in Paris that Alfred was sure would be much too small for them all. This brought Alfred from bitter to furious, and his treatment of both Francis and his father was less than stellar in the weeks leading up to their trip.

The pilot came over the loudspeaker to announce that they would be landing soon, and Alfred heaved a sigh, shoving the last of the granola bar in his mouth. Beside him, Francis whispered something about being excited to Arthur, who nodded and expressed his own excitement, leaving Alfred to crank his music up as loud as possible and pretend none of this was happening.

Within a half hour, the plane had landed and the three were stuffed in the back of a taxi travelling through Paris. It was a ten minute drive, but ten minutes spent squished next to his father and his father's husband making out was enough to make Alfred both nauseous and unbelievably angry. As soon as they arrived at Francis' sister's home, Alfred jumped out of the car before it had even fully stopped. Of course, Arthur didn't even notice his potentially dangerous actions, much too engaged in his new husband.

Huffing, Alfred slammed the door to the taxi shut and whipped around. His anger was abruptly washed away as he looked up, eyes widening. In front of him stood a glorious three-story mansion, completely immaculate and definitely the most amazing place Alfred had ever had the pleasure of staying. The American gaped in wonder at the shining palace before him, suddenly much more excited. Alfred snatched his bags out of the open trunk of the taxi, slinging his duffel bag over his shoulder and dragging his suitcase along behind him. He'd dashed up the stairs to the perfectly polished mansion and stopped at the front door before his father and stepfather had even had a chance to get out of the car.

The door swung open before he'd knocked, much to Alfred's surprise. A beautiful woman stood in the doorway, waist-length hair in two ponytails at the sight of her head. She beamed at the sight of the American, her shining teeth contrasting beautifully with the darkness of her skin.

"Um... Hey," Alfred said awkwardly, surprised by the suddenness of the meeting.

"Hello," she greeted in an accented voice, giving the handsome blond a once-over and opening the door wider. "You must be Alfred."

"Oh, uh, yeah. Who're you?" Alfred stepped inside with a nod of gratitude and took in the beautiful entrance hall, fascinated.

"I'm Angelique, Francis' niece. It's nice to meet you!" She exclaimed enthusiastically.

"You too." Alfred answered, looking to the ceiling. As expected, there was an amazing crystal chandelier directly above him, glittering gorgeously.

"How old are you, hm?" The young woman asked, appraising the clueless American.

"Eighteen," said Alfred distractedly.

"I'm nineteen." Replied Angelique with a meaningful glance and Cheshire grin, which the ever-oblivious Alfred interpreted as a friendly gesture and offered a smile in return to.

"Everyone's already here. Why don't I show you to your room and then introduce you?" She asked sweetly.

"Yeah, that'd be great, thanks!" Alfred beamed.

She turned on her heel, giggling as she rushed upstairs. Alfred followed eagerly, right on her heels as she lead him up two flights of stairs and then down a long hallway, finally stopping at the last room on the right side. She opened the door for him and Alfred entered, immediately astonished by the contents of the room.

"Holy shit!" Alfred immediately dropped his bags, gaping.

Angelique giggled. "You like it?"

"Dude, this is fucking awesome!"

His big blue eyes wide behind his glasses, Alfred turned in order to take in every corner of the lovely room. Plush white carpeting lay beneath his feet, and a beautiful gold color trimmed the white walls. His bed was big—easily the biggest he'd ever seen—and was laden with a plush golden comforter and more pillows then he'd ever seen in once place.

"I specifically like the balcony in this room," said Angelique, walking over to two glass doors, partially covered by slightly translucent golden curtains.

"It has a balcony?! Dude! Seriously, this is, like, the coolest room I've ever been in." Alfred exclaimed as he followed her.

Angelique giggled. "I trust that you'll enjoy it, then. Oh, and did I mention that every room in the house is completely soundproof?"

"Huh? No, but that's pretty damn cool." Alfred grinned at her, suddenly finding the entire situation much more bearable. "I had no idea Francis' sister was so rich!"

"Camille is very, very rich." Said Angelique with a laugh. "She's very famous for her designs. Her work has been on runways across the world."

"Woah, really? He never told me that..." Alfred trailed off, realizing with a bit of guilt that Francis probably would have if Alfred could be bothered to speak to him for more than thirty seconds at a time. He cleared his throat. "So, um, where're Francis and Arthur gonna be staying?"

"The left wing on the first floor, I think. Near Camille."

Alfred turned his attention back to Angelique, finally taking a good look at her. She was even more gorgeous close up; her lovely, lithe figure was clothed in a simple blue sundress, and she was significantly shorter than Alfred. Her round face was framed by dark baby hairs, and big, brown eyes batter thick eyelashes up at him.

"Really?" He asked, realizing he had been staring at her for far too long. "So they're gonna be completely opposite of me?"

"Mhm," she nodded. "The younger you are, the higher floor you're on. It's a joke in our family, you see? Once you get past forty you cannot get up and down the stairs the way the young can!" A shrill laugh escaped from her mouth at her words, and Alfred laughed as well.

"So, when do you go to the second floor?"

"Anyone between twenty-five and thirty-nine stays there. Anyone between seven and twenty-four stays up here! Although, right now there shouldn't have anyone younger than seventeen staying on this floor," she answered.

Alfred raised a brow. "Woah, really? So, how many people are there on this floor?"

"Well, on this floor our youngest is Finn, who's almost eighteen. His two siblings are on this floor too; Lars, who is twenty-one, and Elise, who is twenty-two. Seppe, who is twenty, is up here, too. He's the brother of the twins, Lovino and Feliciano; they're twenty-six, so they're not on this floor. Lili is nineteen, the sister of Vash. Matthew, the oldest of our group, is twenty-three. He is Fancis' brother."

"Woah... There's a lot of people here. I don't wanna bother you, but what about the second floor?"

She giggled. "No, no, that's okay! On the second floor are: Lovino and Feliciano, who I mentioned earlier, Heracles, who I believe is twenty-nine, Antonio, who is twenty-seven and a very close family-friend, Gilbert, another family friend who thirty-five, Vash, who is twenty-five and Lili's brother, and Ludwig, Feliciano's husband, who is twenty-eight, I believe..."

Alfred nodded, listening intently. Angelique laughed when she realized he was furiously typing this into his phone.

"On the third floor are Francis and Arthur, Roderich and Elizaveta, and Camille. Got it?" She beamed.

Alfred laughed. "Kinda. You might have to give me a list."

Angelique laughed, then headed for the door. "I will be back in a half hour to introduce you to everyone. Get settled in!" She encouraged happily.

"M'kay! Thanks!"

"You're welcome, Alfred." She smiled and closed the door lightly.

As soon as the door was closed, Angelique bolted down the hall and turned a corner, finding her room on the left wing of the third floor. She entered it excitedly, happy to find all of the twenty-five's and below already there, gathered together as was customary for them at the start of every vacation.

"Oh, you absolutely must see this American!" Angelique exclaimed loudly, a wide grin set upon her face.

[aleksander0086-blog]

In/Destructable.

Friends come and they will go. I gotta be careful for whom I call my 'friends', though. I have major trust issues,  I can't bond easily, and like I explained in my preview post, I am not a great communicator.  Well, there is one friend I had, one friend I thought I could trust and would be there until forever, really. His name was Kaiden. I met Kaiden when I was 17 years old - he was 4 years younger than me. He was an exchange student living in my house, back in the time when I lived in The Netherlands with my family.  Kaiden was from Florida, lived in poverty, and also had a lot of problems at home, such as abuse, neglect, and bullying in school. He lived with us for an entire school year, I think about 9 or 10 months or so.  He was 4 years younger than me, but he became like a brother to me. Even though it took me some time to fully loosen up, at first I bullied him a lot, made fun of him because he looked like an emo and I used to hate Americans. But I found out he was a really special fella.  Even when our lives continued when he went back to the States, and I continued to live my life in The Netherlands,  we kept in touch, virtually.  There was something I always liked about him - his energy, his depth, his patience, his understanding. He wasn't afraid to speak his mind or disagree with me, and I appreciated that. People can be so damn fake. ..But he wasn't. Even when we were a few years older, in our 20's,  I often went to visit him in the States,  a couple of times a year. We were going out on roadtrips, all kinds of adventures, or we just hung out in his apartment a lot, watching movies, like something you'd expect from a real friendship. I never had a friendship like that, where I would actually do fun activities. In other friendships of mine,  we just used drugs and hung out on the streets, act trashy, talking about murder, feeling useless. But the friendship I had with Kaiden really had some real depth,  we could talk for hours all night,  and he made me believe it is no shame to talk about my inner feelings and emotions. By that time, I had never met a single person I felt comfortable enough to talk about my inner feelings. And to me, it felt like a piece of freedom, and he gave me that like some kind of gift. Really, if it wasn't for him, I would still be a numb asshole with my feelings all bottled up.

When I moved to New York when I was 25, I often went to visit Kaiden in Michigan. There were huge gaps, though, and I realized that every time we saw each other again. I had my problems with drinking, using drugs, the errors inside my head. But he, Kaiden, was struggling with bipolar disorder, as he knew since the age of 15. He just did a perfect job by hiding the whole thing. But I could see whenever he was going through a difficult time. He used to be straight edge -  no drinking, no drugs, not even smoking cigarettes.  But ever since he got back from L.A, his life got a little twisted.  He always had high expectations and big dreams, as he wanted to make it in L.A., but I saw the city of angels changed him. He came back as a different person, very odd. It just wasn't him. He opened up about the fact he was sexually abused by his manager,  that he met the wrong people there,  and he definitely started drinking a lot. He was forced to use drugs. Once he came back to Michigan, I think it triggered his mental health and it took the wrong turn. Everything he did was limitless. The typical symptoms of bipolar disorder, those were clear to see. Very extreme mood swings. There were times when I moved in with him, but every time I stayed with him for awhile, the better I got to know him. It wasn't really pretty. He was either extremely happy or a really mean bitch.  Kaiden, he also developed this huge identity crisis with himself - he was not sure about his sexual orientation and identity.  He was struggling with it. I tried to help him, even though I, myself,  used to be a little bit homophobic back in the days.  He was my friend, and I knew he was struggling with it. I just wanted us to have fun again like we used to have.  I came to find out we had a difficult time dosing our attention to each other, since we both have our problems.  Except Kaiden clearly needed the attention, he kinda almost begged for it, he was loud. And me, I tried hiding it, but the people who knew me best could easily uncover my pain. Like the extrovert and the introvert.  It was either Kaiden going through a difficult period, and me having to take care of him, or the other way around. We were there for eachother, always. I suppose it made our friendship a very strong, hectic one too, because of that.  The thing is, there was always drama going on in our lives, and we were both very involved in the situation. And things got even harder as the years were passing by.

  The more we were together the unhealthier our friendship became.  Over the last 5 years we did nothing but using drugs, annoy each other with the fact that we were junkies,  fighting, throwing things at each other, beat each other up. But then there were good times coming again. And so we did fun things again. Then we started fighting again. But both of us were so damn drugged up. I was on heroin all the time, I would stay in the other room, alone in the dark, painting. Or lying on the bathroom floor listening to nice classic rock music. I mind my own business, that's just how heroin works. I wanted to be alone. But Kaiden wasn't on heroin, coke was his thing. It made him very different person, very high energy, always looking for a reason to fight. He would slam the fucking door while I was tripping in the bathroom, yelling at me "Let's go to the sea and put our clothes off! Right now! Come with me!", almost dragging me outside. But my mind couldn't process that very quickly when on heroin. His voice was echoing through my mind. I remember nights, when he was all hyped under influence of coke, and I was nodding next to him in the backseat of the car, far away from reality, no idea where I was and what we were doing. He carried me around like a puppet,  but we were always together.  Kaiden would fight literally anyone on cocaine. And whenever I looked at him, I just thought to myself "damn, this is not you, what the fuck".  We turned out to be monsters, we created the worst versions of ourselves. 

Anyway,  when Kaiden came out as gay, or pansexual, or both, whatever - I still have no idea, but he clearly fell for men - he got involved in the gay scene, and he turned into some kind of sex maniac. He had a devoted boyfriend for awhile, Joone, whom he met in Finland while we were on vacation there,  but then he cheated and started fucking the entire city of Toronto. He was the notorious crack whore of Toronto city, and he was happy to be so. He started to become careless, just like me,  and you got drugs to blame for that. Cocaine turned him in the opposite of person he used to was, the person I used to like so much. That was all gone at some point.  He disgusted me with his lifestyle. I didn't want to visit him anymore because even in the morning, the room smelled like sex and crack, there were naked guys lying on the carpet. And I don't have problems with the gay scene, not anymore, I have experimented this and that myself as well, but his life was just awfully disgusting. For real. I took my distance, continued my life as an introvert junkie in New York City,  but Kaiden kept falling back to me. He'd call me and tell me he feels extremely sorry, crying and everything. And I swallowed those cries for help, for many many times. But Kaiden started working at a sex club for gays, it made him rich. He got paid for sex, and it seemed like everybody wanted to try him out. He could only perform while on cocaine. That sex club was everything to him at one point, and didn't care about anything else anymore.  He didn't care for me anymore, he would even threaten me if I didn't shut up. I couldn't even disagree with him anymore, or open my mouth. But I still did. We had so many fights, physically as well. There were a lot of cocaine, tears and blood. I'm talking about the very end of our friendship now. This was the last chapter of us, really. 

When I got back from Berlin, I visited him a couple of times still. He was clearly angry I lied to him about me being dead. Which I understand, because I lied to everyone. I was too embarrassed to admit another suicide attempt failed once again. But I will never forget the last conversation we had. It was december, very cold night in Toronto. I remember we were sitting with some of his hoes in the room, they were on coke, I joined a bit but not too much. I figured he started gossiping around with some guy, pointing at me and laughing at me. I didn't do shit, it made me moody as fuck, though.  I just refused to talk all night. Went to the kitchen to get some booze. When Kaiden crossed me I just grabbed him and asked him, "what the fuck do you think you're doing bitch?" He just started laughing, he said something like, "just let me go to the bathroom, you schizophrenic thot". I remember looking him in the eyes, feeling furious inside, the anger boiling. I grabbed him, dragged him outside his apartment and just threw him on the ground. He told me all kind of things I will never forget. Made all kind of jokes about me being a 'schizophrenic' and just sick in the head, that I am just like my father, and of course he could because he knew all of my weaknesses. He hurt me so much. He started puching me and we pulled each others hair. It was nasty. He hurt me so much that I wanted to kill him, it triggerd my killer feelings again. I beat him up until he bled, left him lying in the snow and hit him with my car. It felt fucking amazing.  Heard he was hospitalized, but didn't die. Unfortunately. I wish I fucking killed him. I really wish I had. Never saw him again, though.  But this friendship lead us to a dead end lane. How can somebody you once loved so much betray you like that? How he gave all his support and cared for me while I was going through psychosis, delusions, hard times and end up calling me out for being schizophrenic?  Fucking cokehead. Fucking worthless.

[movietweets]

Thor

Okie dokie, here we go one more time (obviously we’ll be doing it more times than one more) for another MCU film. This time I’ve got a jar of delicious greasy olives to hand and I’ll be watching Thor (2011). 

The only difference between this and other tweet-alongs is that I’m actually not going to tweet it! Yeah... I know that’s not really allowed but screw you! I make the rules and I prefer this format with the pictures and everything all at once.

Also since starting this I’ve lost 5 followers. It means almost nothing to me but I don’t want to be an annoying pest and I can see how filling up your timelines with endless tweets about a film you’re not even watching could get irritating. So suck it up, this is how it’s going to be from now on.

Anyway, on with the show.

What’s this? A rag-tag band of misfits in a van! If only they had a dog it could have been Scooby and the gang! They even have a Velma.

Daphney’s on point but looks like something awful happened to Fred. So sign of shaggy or scoob yet, no doubt they’re off somewhere making unrealistically tall sandwiches.

Oh, but maybe they’re baddies... they do appear to have a bomb,

Whoops, things aren’t going so well for them now. I’m having twister flashbacks!

Damn! Did they just hit someone? Maybe they are baddies...at least they got out to try and help. This has a sort of teen horror movie intro vibe to it. I’m sensing that they all might die soon. 

Oh now we’ve jumped back in time and now its a history documentary, That was unexpected! 

Oh not these guys from Game of Thrones! Is this set in Westeros then? Even the music is a bit like the GoT intro music.

Okay, this is a wackiest one yet, two alien races (that nonetheless look roughly humanoid) are having a war together on earth (of all places). It’s a little bit lord of the rings too. I’m having all kinds of feelings here. 

Asgard: also known as Organ pipe city.

So what? Fight to the death? My money is on the blond kid, the other one looks like the jealous villain type. 

I guess he did win then...Look at that cheeky wink. Although, I think it was aimed at his mother? Maybe that’s normal here. 

Healthy Asgardian flirting with mum

Alternate cast of The Lord of the Rings

And that guy dressed in jealous green must be his brother from before. Man he looks bitter. I bet he turns out to be the main baddy. These films have a track record of introducing the baddy within the first 10 minutes and I get the feeling it isn’t going to be Velma or any of the Mystery Machine bunch.

Oh Heck! Its an icy man! They’re baddies too!

Ooo, don’t piss off King daddy!

He’s such a sneaky snake. If only Thor didn’t have such an ego. He’s like Norse Tony Stark

Typical Gimli, in the room for 5 seconds and already grabbed a massive plate of food. 

Roadtrip! 

Why are they riding horses though, isn’t this world super high tech? Come to think of it, why are they wearing armor and fighting with swords? Don’t they have laser guns? Even that bloke from Ironman, living in a hovel in Russia, managed to cobble together a laser weapon. What gives!?

Idris Elba! Oh I hope he’s a main character! Looks like he needs a rest though... his eyes are pretty bloodshot.

Is this where rainbow road from mariocart is set? Or is that some kind of future techno-path?

Ideally I’d like to make some clever comment about this transportation sphere thing but its just too bizarre... Who know’s maybe this is what alien technology is like?

Hold your breath guys!

Could have said something earlier Asian Aragron! No use piping up now with your doubts!

Yep, I’m sure he’s going to back down now. He seems like the backing down type to be honest. Not a hot head, just easy going Thor, trying not to upset anyone.

Nobody calls me a woman! Even though there’s nothing wrong with being a woman. I’m not a sexist demi-god, really I promise! I know literally every other religion has a pretty bad track record but I’m different... It wasn’t what he said, it was the way he said it! 

Daaaaammnnnn! You got burned son! How you gonna let him front like that?

Oww! You got me right in the hand! No fair! And down he goes like a premiership football player. 

Cool hammer trick, I wonder how he does it? Magnets? It’ll definitely be magnets. I’ll bet it’s magnets.

Oh no! Frostbite! I’m sure there won’t be any long term consequences though.

Why is he only pulling out that attack now? Also, great wrist action, that must come in useful... Some friends he’s got though leaving him there to fight alone.

Another neat trick...This guy is a demon with the hammer.

Okay, now this is just hammer porn.

How many legs does that horse have? Is that part of the mythology?

Uh oh! Somebody is going to be grounded when they get home!

Isn’t Thor the god of lighting? If Final Fantasy has taught me anything about elemental damage its that he should have gained HP from that taser.

He’s going to end up in an institution! Hasn’t he worked it out that he’s on earth yet? They all knew about earth earlier.

Here’s Johnny!

I guess you’re not going to be crowned King Arthur.

Told you! That’s it buddy, you’re in the system now. Your only hope is a Native American smashing a window with a water fountain. 

Wow, Portman really has a knack for running this guy over.

HMB I’m going to get me a kingdom. 

Okay party’s over. Agent killjoy is here.

Yeah, real subtle Portman! I know he’s got a pretty ripped body though so I don’t blame you for acting like a school girl.

Oh surprise, surprise! Sneaky snake bro is a sneaky snake.

I’m blue dabba dee dabba doo. He actually might be that guy from X-men though. 

Stolen avatar baby. Again this seems familiar. Right George R.R. Martin? 

NO! DADDY!

HAHAHA! This guy is worse than Hulk for smashing.

How much did Zuckerburg pay for that totally unnecessarily distraction from the scene.

Oh she’s totally smitten. He’s everything a girl could want: brutish, zero social awareness, no money but really confident and with a killer bod. It literally makes no sense though, she’s a total babe but has to wait for a mental patient to literally fall from the sky to find a man. Has she even tried Tinder?

America! Land of freedom! They’ll steal your stuff and there’s nothing you can do about it...

Apple? you too? Aren’t you setting enough Ipods already? It’s 2011 for christs sake. I swear Velma is only in this for the product placement. 

The king is dead, long live the king. He’s like one of those co-workers who suddenly becomes a dick when they get a promotion so supervisor.

Good thing she turned up, that guy looked like he was about to show him to the back-room bestiality ring he runs on weeknights.

She’s doing some pretty impressive mental gymnastics there to even consider that he might not be completely bonkers. 

Is this a theme starting to emerge, ignoring daddies instructions?

Why does he need to go in there at all, that’s my question. we’ve already seen that he can use his magnet hands to summon it from a distance. He could have done that from up on the hill and then flown them both the hell out of there before anybody knew what was going on.

Gun or bow and arrow? 

Hmmm... I’m feeling cocky today.

I knew it was magnets! 

He just said it! Right there!

Oh, what a let down. He’s fucked now.

No use crying over impossible to pick up hammer. As they say.

Who’s this Robin Hood guy anyway, obviously not just a random grunt or he’d have gone with the gun and would probably be dead by now.

What is snakeboy doing here? It’s all your fault but don’t blame yourself. This guy is a sociopath.

I think my eyes just nearly rolled out of their sockets. Absolutely shameless.

Okay MUM!

Earth Daddy is a rebel after all. CHUG THE BEER, GET IT DOWN, DOWN IN ONE, DRINK IT ALL!

Of course it was all him all along. Sneaky snake.

MY VOICE IS RIDICULOUSLY DEEP AND RESONANT!

Just having a chilled night in with a good book and some ‘Go Lean’ Cereal! 

Oh! Heaven forbid that he see your cereal!

Greedy ginger Hagrid is always stuffing his bloody face!

“Don’t you DARE fat shame me!” 

Everything in Asgard is so serious and stern. Don’t they ever just chill?

So that’s where crop circles come from! It’s just the Norse gods popping in for a visit. Technically it is aliens then I guess.

Final boss? It does look like something from Dark Souls. 

Oh cool! Cosplayers! 

Just act natural guys...

Not dinosaurs? I it could happen right? Wouldn’t be the craziest thing to have happened in this film so far.

Oh no its just Norse Ironman. Eat shit Tony.

Just like in the wild west... but seriously, why hasn’t Norse Ironman used his face cannon to finish the job yet? He’s wide open!

Wow, that worked?

Psyche!

Oooofff!

He’s not going to have died though is he... lets get real here. Something is going to save him.

There we go space daddy’s tears made a massive hammer fly out of the sky and electrocute him back to health. 

Saw that coming a mile off, its straight out of the superhero user manual.

Can you really hit fire with a hammer?

It’s not exactly what you’d call comfortable though is it.

What a melt.

Really, all that tension and you’re only going to kiss her hand?

Finally.

WHAT? Double, double cross!? Such a sneaky snake but it won’t help you once Thor gets here.

What’s the big deal about frost giant genocide? They’re obviously evil! Just look at what they’ve done north of the wall already! They’ll eat Danarys! Don’t say I didn’t warn you!

How come it doesn’t just crush straight through him if its so heavy?

That was lucky. These superheros always get lucky.

Nice shot. This film has been surprisingly good quality, I think its the first one that I’ve really enjoyed the whole way through. Even despite its ridiculousness!

No surprises at who’s tucking in at the feast!

Awhh Daddy is finally proud of you. What a tear jerker.

Alright, lets see what happens in the after credits scene...

Oh its earth daddy and nicky the patch! Take a look at my energy cube? Oh no! who’s that in the background?! Not snakey snake bro!

The End.

Well I didn’t hate that one. I didn’t hate it at all. Tune in next time for Captain America. It’s one that I’m particularly looking forward to hating every second of. Bloody America man!