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#road trip au!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
mediumgayitalian · 2 months
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Blue, blue, blue eyes, wet and red-rimmed. White knuckles clenched around worn canvas. Salty cheeks and bitten-bruised lips.
“I’m running away.”
Echoes in a too-large room, quiet breathing in stale air. Freezing toes on marble floor. Struggling lamplight, gaunt shadows.
“Gimme a minute to pack a bag.”
———
“Shh,” Nico hisses, clamping a hand over Will’s mouth to muffle a shriek. A too-warm hand clutches his hip, scrambling for balance. The rickety wooden lattice creaks under their weight.
The freeze, for one, two, three seconds. Nico strains to hear, watching the crystal-clear, freshly-polished Jalousie window.
No light.
They let out their breath at the same time, Will’s exhale making Nico’s cold hands tingle. At Will’s glare, he removes his hand, wrapping it back around the rung.
“Be more careful, you clumsy fuck.”
“I’m trying!”
To his credit, he really is. He checks and double checks before putting his full weight on the lopsided strips of wood only meant to hold up vines. He doesn’t let go of the rung above him until his feet are firmly planted, and he doesn’t stray far enough from Nico that he couldn’t catch him. He knows the drill.
And, yet.
(Truly, Nico has no idea how he climbed up by himself.)
Thankfully, they make it to the soft lawn in one piece. Will stumbles into a hydrangea bush the second he lets go of the lattice. Nico lands with much more grace, snickering.
“This house hates me,” he whispers, pouting. There are several blue flower petals tangled in his hair; Nico decides not to tell him. “Like, actively.”
“You and me both.”
They sneak quickly across the lawn once Will’s upright again, booking it to Nico’s Jeep. Will takes their bags, tossing them in the back, then slides behind the massive, creepy gargoyle-thing that sits between the garage doors as Nico opens the driver’s door as quietly as physically possible. Once he’s seated, he glances over at Will, waiting for his signal — hand held up in wait, four seconds, five, six — then a rapid shooing motion, eyes trained at the security camera. Fast as he can, Nico shifts into neutral without starting the car, craning his neck to watch out the back window as he peels out of the driveway and onto the street. Once safely behind the massive pine tree that marks the edge of the property, he parks, turning the car on and wincing at the noise.
Two minutes later, Will comes barrelling down the driveway, nearly tripping over untied shoelaces.
“I fucked up, they totally saw me, go go go!”
Nico doesn’t need to be told twice. He’s in drive and racing down the empty street before Will has the door closed.
For a while, he lets their heart rates settle back into something normal. The headlights are dim, no streetlights to make anything brighter, and he squints through the windshield, tense. If a deer jumps out, they’re fucked.
“So,” he says, relaxing as they turn onto familiarly torn-up roads. No street lights here, either, but he knows the woods on either side of the road are a farce. Hardly more than a copse of trees — nothing but farmland for hundreds of acres. No risk of death by Cervidae, thank God. “Running away?”
“There’s a rest stop an hour east,” Will says instead of answering, face buried in a map. “We can sleep there and keep going in the morning.”
Go where, Nico wants to ask, but he knows better than that. There’s a tenseness to Will’s jaw, and something transparently pleading in his eyes.
“Okay,” he finally relents. Will’s obvious relief eases his discomfort. “You gotta direct me, though. And, I swear to God, if you get us lost again, Solace —”
And Will laughs, finally, and it’s small and stilted and there are still tears drying on his cheeks, but it’s real, and stars shine brighter, brighter, brighter.
The two hours to the rest stop pass quickly. Nico is used to long drives, and thankfully he’d filled up a couple days ago, so all he worries about is staying awake and watching for cops. There shouldn’t be any, really, because he’s been the only car on this road the entire time, but Nico isn’t going to chance it. Not again. (He doesn’t have Piper to talk them out of trouble, this time, although Will could possibly manage.) 
(Maybe.) 
(Well, never say never.)
“How prepared are we to run away?”
Will is quiet for several long, telling moments.
“Well,” he says finally, and Nico sighs. “I think there’s still blankets and pillows in the trunk from last time.”
“Christ alive, William.”
“It’s June! We’re – sheltered! We’ll be fine.”
“Christ alive, William.”
“Oh, can it.”
He bites his tongue, grinning. He doesn’t actually mind – it is June, and they have blankets, and their certainly not going to succumb to the elements in the Jeep. Will, too, is like a goddamn space heater; if anything, they’ll wake up in the morning with the windows fogged. 
“I suppose I’ll manage,” he says, watching with interest as a flash of bare skin as Will leans over the seat, sweatshirt riding up his arched back as he digs around for the blankets. He turns back right before Will does, huffing dramatically. “Since there are no other options.”
He fully expects the pillow to the face.
“You’re a dickhead.”
“Dickhead with a license and a vehicle, Sunny Boy, so maybe count your blessings.”
“...Lou Ellen has a car. So there.”
Nico snorts, thinking of the piece of shit Bug that broke down for the twelfth time this year in her driveway, earlier this week. Likely story.
“And, yet.”
“And, yet,” Will agrees, voice significantly softer. He’s fully burrowed in his blanket when Nico looks over; seat reclined as far as it’ll go so he can curl up, knees to chest, all six two of him compressed to something small, delicate. The pillow smushes half his face, and the blanket is pulled up to his nose, and Nico swallows, roughly, because his eyes are bright in the moonlight, and his hair fans, frizzy and damp, slightly, out onto the pillow, and Nico doesn’t need to be a poet to compare his freckled forehead to the starry sky. There is a fragility in him, one he keeps firmly locked inside the deepest parts of him, and as Nico watches it he can see it spilling, pouring, bleeding out of him. In the car, in the dark, in front of Nico. “Goodnight, Nico.”
“Goodnight,” Nico says hoarsely. 
By the time he gets the courage to look at Will again, his eyes are already closed, breaths slow and even.
———
“Neeks. Neeks. Nico. Hey, Thanatos. Anubis. Gerard Way. I got more, man, I made a list –”
“Will you stop fucking poking me,” Nico groans, peeking out from his blankets to glare at his aggressor. He regrets it immediately, hissing as the sun burns his retinae.
He can feel Will smiling. “Up and at ‘em, Sunshine. It’s road trip time.” He pauses. “And, also, I’m starving. I packed granola bars for us but I ate them all already. Sorry.”
“Fucker.” Reluctantly, he tugs the blanket fully off, sitting upright and stretching his arms above his head. His back cracks satisfyingly. “Don’t suppose you know where the nearest Dunkin’ is, then.”
“Uh, no.” He looks back to find Will’s eyes snapping back to his, face flushed. “We’re just outside of Arcadia, though? So. I’m. Sure there’s one –”
“Are you good?” Nico asks, squinting. “It’s too early for you to be a weirdo, Will, it’s only –” He checks his phone – “Oh, you motherfucker, it’s like six thirty in the morning! Why the hell are we awake?”
“Road trip!” he says. His face, no longer all screwed up and blotchy, returns to its usual blinding beam. 
Great. Now there are two things trying to blind him.
“C’mon, you dork,” Will says again, laughing. He tugs the blanket from Nico’s grip, tossing it haphazardly in the back and pestering him until he scowls, biting out a “Fine, you prick, Jesus,” and rubs the sleep out of his eyes.
He’s still not all the way awake, but he dutifully sits up, buckling his seat belt and starting the car. “Nav,” he mutters, tuning out Will’s chatter.
He loves the guy, but, fuck. It’s six thirty in the goddamned morning. He hasn’t seen six thirty in the morning in a long ass fucking time – even before he graduated at the end of May, he was late to homeroom every single day, without fail. Six thirty is an absurd time to be awake. 
“Left here, straight for a bit, and it’ll be on the corner.”
“You’re pointing to the right,” Nico says, patiently, not bothering to fight the smirk cropping up on his face. "Am I turning right?"
This, he’s used to.
“I meant right,” Will sulks. “...I said right in my brain.”
“Sure,” says Nico generously, grin widening.
“Fuck off.”
“What? You try very hard, Will. I’m very proud of you.”
“Choke.”
“Few more years, and you’ll be caught up to the kindergarteners.”
“That’s it, di Angelo –”
He laughs, batting away Will’s smacking hands. “Hey! Hey! No hitting the driver, do you want me to crash –”
By the time Will is done trying to beat him up, Nico has long spotted the sad-looking Dunkin’ Donuts, pulling into the empty parking lot and peering inside.
“Is it even open?” he asks, frowning. The lights are on, but it looks…more soulless than usual, somehow.
“Yep,” Will chirps, clicking off his seatbelt. “The chain opens at five. There's a location in Omaha that's open at 4:30, but as far as their policy goes, five is go time.”
“Nerd.”
“It’s okay, Nico. I’ll stay friends with you even if you get dumber than you already are.”
He grins wickedly. “Least I know my lefts and rights.”
He cackles when Will slams the door, stomping to the Dunkin’s entrance. He’s not really mad – he gets quiet when he gets mad – but it’s good to know that he’s won. (Not that it’s hard. Will is witty, sure, and wicked smart, but his buttons are just a smidge too easy to press. Great fun for Nico, who has raging ADHD and could not resist the allure of a shiny red button if it was going to blow up the Earth with him on it.)
Will is nowhere to be found when Nico gets inside, so he assumes he’s in the washroom and walks up to the counter to make their order. A bored girl a couple years younger than him flips a magazine behind the register, nodding as he comes up.
“I’ll have a black coffee and a…” He squints. “God. A butter pecan swirl signature iced latte.”
“With whipped cream and caramel drizzle?”
Nico sighs, resisting the urge to physically wince. “Yes.”
“Anything else?” says the girl, smile pulling at her lips. “I can put sugar in a cup to go, if you want.”
“He’d probably take that, too,” he agrees snorting. “But nah. Just a couple breakfast sandwiches, if you don’t mind.”
“‘Course.”
She rings him up, letting him know it’s gonna take a minute as the machines boot up. He wanders while he waits, curiously observing a wall of what appears to be scrawled pencil graffiti. Nothing talented, but he has to fight the urge to walk out to the payphone he saw outside and call a few of the numbers, just to see what would happen. 
“Hey,” Will says, startling him. He’s changed his shirt and tied his hair back, looking a million times better than last night. Nico finds himself relieved, shoulders slumping imperceptibly.
“Hey.”
“D’you order for us?”
“Got you your morning milkshake monstrosity, don’t worry.”
Will grins. “Drinking black coffee doesn’t make you cool.”
“It does, actually. At any given time I am forty-seven percent cooler than you. More, if you’re wearing cargo shorts.” He glances down. “It’s a forty-nine percent day, apparently.”
“Go wash your face,” Will laughs, shoving him. “I’ll get the food, then we can look at the map.”
He doesn’t take nearly as long as Will did. He brushes his teeth, splashes water on his face, decides his hair looks awesome the way it is – of course he didn’t forget a brush, why would he be a big enough dumbass to forget a brush and also more than one pair of socks – and walks back out. He finds Will tucked in a booth in a corner, chewing on a pink straw, eyeing their giant map intently.
“So,” he says as Nico approaches, handing him his coffee, “I did some math.”
Nico notices a napkin scrawled with ink that he could not read even if he wasn’t dyslexic.
“Geek.”
Will chucks his balled up straw wrapper at him. “We can go five hours-ish on a full tank of gas, and you’re a bit above a half tank, so we got maybe three hours before we need to stop.” He circles a little dot about a quarter way into the state, letters too small for Nico to read. “And since going anywhere near Orlando in the summer is asking to stick us in bumper-to-bumper traffic, that puts us in Anthony.”
“I did not know there was a town named Anthony,” Nico says sagely. “That’s a shit name for a town, if I’m being honest.”
WIll shrugs. “Welcome to Florida. Anyways. Want me to drive? You drove last night.”
“Barely,” Nico dismisses, waving his hand. He likes driving – it’s just scattered enough that he doesn’t get antsy. It’s being a passenger that kills him, although he’s sure they’ll switch on the way back so he can rest. “I’ll drive.”
“‘Kay.”
Will turns his attention back to the map, tapping his pen against the table in between bites of his breakfast sandwich. Every so often he returns to the napkin, scribbling something down and making little hums of concentration. 
Nico begins to notice the route he’s drawing extends a ways past state lines.
“So,” he says carefully, eyes trained on his best friend. “Running away.”
Will tenses, again, at the mention of it, although this time he looks more stubborn than lost. Good.
“Road trip,” he corrects. “It’s our last summer, Nico. I turn eighteen in a couple months, and then…” He trails off. Nico waits out the silence, seven seconds, eight, nine. “Isn’t that what we’re supposed to do? One last huzzah, road trip around the nation, or whatever?”
“Did you happen to tell your mother about this road trip?”
Will shrugs. “I left a note.”
Nico hums. “Sounds an awful lot like running away. I would know. I’ve been picked up by social services in three separate states.”
“Road trip,” Will corrects again, stubborn set to his brow. 
Nico decides to let it go for now.
“Road trip,” he agrees. Will looks at him gratefully. “Where to?”
“That defeats the point of a road trip.” He rolls up the map, looking at Nico like it’s obvious. “Duh. Journey, not the destination, et cetera, et cetera.”
Privately, Nico bets that by tomorrow, Will be be restless and guilty and they will be on their way home. Outwardly, he says, “You have seen a truly disgusting amount of movies,” and Will laughs, and Nico follows him to the Jeep, and knows, as he always does, that he will follow him regardless; across the world, across the country, even back to Shit Fuck, Florida.
———
next chapter
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minnow-doodle-doo · 7 months
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Am I back on my Sons of Anarchy AU bullshit again? yes
Jason and Dick take a break in the shade after Jason takes over the shop.
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help-itrappedmyself · 2 months
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Dead on Main Part 5
Masterpost
“We have to stop for snacks!” 
“We are not stopping for snacks.”
They started this conversation two whole minutes ago.
“We have to stop for snacks! It is a quintessential part of the road trip experience. This is our first road trip. Do you really want to deprive your family of the full experience?”
Apparently, the Waynes have never been on a full road trip, usually flying places instead, so Dick is insisting we make this a whole experience. Danny is willing to bet car games will be played at some point.
“It’s a long drive, we’re not stopping unless necessary.”
Danny wonders how long the discussion can last as it reaches the four minute mark. 
“ But-”
Tim taps Dick on the shoulder to shut him up. “I have to go to the bathroom.” He deadpans at Bruce. 
Bruce looks at him in the rearview mirror, looks back at the road, looks back at Tim. Bruce sighs.
“Everybody is going to the bathroom. We can get some snacks, and then we are not stopping for at least four hours.” 
Dick cheers, and Danny chuckles at Tim’s smirk. They’ve only been on the road for forty-five minutes, by all rights no one should have to go to the bathroom yet, but Danny was enjoying the family banter in the car.
The first forty-two minutes of the drive was mostly just everyone settling in, Dick in the front as navigator, though it didn’t seem like Bruce needed directions. Danny had asked and he’d never been to Illinois before, but they’re probably still in familiar territory, he might need a map later. Danny is in the back seat, sitting behind Bruce, Tim is sitting behind Dick. Dick and Tim both brought backpacks with them for the drive, Tim has at least two tablets in his. Danny knows they put a bunch of stuff in the trunk as well,  overnight bags and other assorted items, he thinks he saw a pillow. Danny knows somebody went to pack something for him/Jason when they get there, but doesn’t know who. He doesn’t have any entertainment, because he doesn’t have anything except Jason’s phone on him. 
They pull into a gas station, Bruce is determined to get the most out of this stop. Bruce pumps the gas as Danny, Dick, and Tim head inside. They do all go to the bathroom, and Bruce comes in to use the restroom as they raid the snack aisles. Tim has three canned coffees in his hands.
“You know if you drink all of those we’ll have to stop again.” Danny points out. “ Plus it’s late, can you not sleep in cars?”
“Can’t sleep at all usually. We’ll see, but I have some stuff to work on anyway.” Tim points to the drink displays. “Anything you’d like?” 
Danny knows that they don’t mind paying for him, at this point it has been debated multiple times, and he knows he won’t make the whole trip without any snacks. He grabs a Monster and a Gatorade for the road. They meet Dick in the chip aisle. It looks like he’s already grabbed one of every candy, and he’s well on the way to one of every chip.
“Hey, what do you like Danny?” Danny stares at all the food precariously balanced in his arms.
“If you’re sharing, I think we’re good.” 
Dick and Tim laugh.
“We will be sharing most of this. I got all of our favorites, but everyone has something that they’re not willing to share as well. Why don’t you pick out something that’s just for you.”
Tim has grabbed sour gummy worms and is making his way to the checkout counter where Bruce is waiting with a very resigned look on his face. Danny grabs a bag of beef jerky and walks with Dick to the checkout. The look on Bruce’s face when Dick walks up with his arms full is hilarious and Danny actually snorts at Bruce’s ‘I can’t control these children’ apologetic look he gives the cashier as Dick dumps his haul onto the counter.
They pile back into their seats, the seat between Tim and Danny now stuffed with all the snacks. There is not one empty cup holder left in the car. They spend the next short stretch getting resettled, opening up their first snacks and drinks. Tim Pulls out a tablet, but doesn’t start working on anything, too busy texting someone. Danny considers pulling out his phone, remembers it’s not his, and then decides not to. He wouldn’t know the password anyway, maybe he can ask if his brother’s know what it would be.
They’d just about hit the first hour mark on their 12-hour trip when Dick turns around in his chair to face the backseat. Danny sees him slip his phone away.
“Hey, Danny, why don’t you tell us about yourself?” Tim has put his phone down.
“Well, I’m still in highschool. Should graduate soon, hopefully.” Danny starts tapping his fingers on his thighs. He hopes he can graduate. “You know I have a sister in college. I have another sister, she’s a traveler, she doesn’t do school.” 
“Do you like school?” Dick prompts.
“It’s okay.” He shrugs. “I’m not great at it. I like learning, but it’s not a great school and there’s only so much learning you can do from inside a locker.” 
“You fit in a locker?” Tim asks.
Danny looks at himself, quickly realizing that they have no idea what he looks like as he sees Jason’s bulky frame. He chuckles, rubbing the back of his head with a hand.
“Ha, yeah. I’m more…. Tim to Damian size? I think I’m around your height.” He said in Tims direction. “Maybe an inch or two shorter, but I have no muscle mass, so It’s a bit of a squeeze but I fit well enough. Never get stuck. Tucker got stuck once.” 
Dick frowns. “Do a lot of people end up in lockers at your school?” 
“Sure. Me, Tucker, Mikey… Maybe Wes if he ever really pisses someone off. But he’s more likely to annoy me than Dash, and I’m not going to shove him in a locker.”
Tim nods sagely, like he understands high school. Dick is frowning like he doesn’t. 
“Dash a sports guy?” Tim asks.
Danny nods. “Football quarterback and basketball.”
“Geek or nerd?” 
“Personally, nerd probably.” Danny thinks about it. “But there’s not much opportunity to explore engineering and space in high school, so I’m mostly average. Tucker is a big geek, he’s great with computers. Does most of the coding for my more technological fixes when I’m working on my parent’s stuff.”
“You work with your parents a lot?” Dick’s phone chimes, but he ignores it.
“Not with them so much as on their stuff. They create it, they come up with a lot of cool stuff. I reverse-engineered a lot of it once it’s done.” 
“You said a lot of it was weapons?” Tim’s phone dings. “Damian says not to ignore his text.” 
“Oh!” Dick grabs for his phone.
“Some. They built other stuff as well, but they specialize in weapons and defenses against ghosts.” 
Dick immediately turns back to look at him. “Ghosts?” 
Danny could hear the doubt in his voice. He sighs. “Yeah, they’re ecto-biologists. Amity has a big ghost problem, that’s why we live there, they wanted to study them.” Danny has a slight shiver, but suppresses it. “They develop a lot of technology using ectoplasm-” Danny shudders for real this time. His squeezes his eyes closed, feeling a deep roiling in his gut that is vaguely nauseating, and a fire in his brain that is making his blood feel like it's burning. This is strange. His brain goes on overdrive, thinking about his parents, the blob ghosts he has had to free from their basement, the threats they make, them shooting at him. Danny recognises the churning in his body as ectoplasm riling up a core. His core.
But he’s not in his body, he shouldn’t have… Jason has died too. Danny opens his eyes and they’re glowing.
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solazu1 · 2 months
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OH SHIT, THEY’RE ROAD-TRIPPING!!!! I have,, a bit of a thing planned :3 a series of images if you will, maybe one can consider it a project or whatever. They're on a journey!! More content awaits including how chaotic it is to have Alex, Amy, Brian, Tim, Jay, and Jessica all in one car going from Alabama to Arizona.
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szczurherbacany · 1 year
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they got to be actual teenagers :)
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nerdpoe · 8 months
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Timmy bein Creepy (but not really)
When Tim spent time chasing Batman and Robin through the streets, he did a lot of "hurry up and wait".
While waiting, he would find ways to entertain himself.
He trained the crows to bring him money in exchange for food. He trained the stray cats to alert him when people got too close. He trained the stray dogs to track and do silent alerting when they found their quarry.
He spoke with small time thieves and learned how to pick locks and pickpocket. He spoke with the homeless and learned the best ways to disappear without a trace, even if the cops were right on his tail.
He stays up at odd hours, he sleeps in weird places, and he's mastered the art of waiting, so much that it's like waiting for the other shoe to drop just by being in the same room as him.
So when he became Robin, inevitably he came across as a little creepy.
Everyone soon accepted that he was Tim Drake and he was just Like That.
Then Damian came along.
Damian is absolutely convinced Drake is possessed by a demon, and he will prove it.
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anna-scribbles · 10 months
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particularly inspired moment from ch 2 of mine and @sha-nwa‘s new enemies au fic call it even 🫶
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donelywell · 4 months
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December 2 2023
I saw on Twitter a while ago of people showing off their design for Sally Acorn. I never actually watched the Satam show or read the Archie comics, so I never got exposed to her glory.
I watched Lowart's videos on the Archie comics though, and from what I've seen there, she's a cool character! I would read the archie comics if it wasn't filled with weird teen romance drama and love. I dunno, it's just not my cup of tea. (yes, I don't like kissing, I'm 19 years alive and I still get weirded out to kissing scenes... I really am a loser) Which is a bummer since she seems so cool, but she's like in the heart of all the romance drama it seems.
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alligatorpie1945 · 1 year
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A slight hiccup during the road trip. Dont worry though, they have plenty of snacks and Tech can handle it. Echo stayed home for this trip and of course they have barely been able to keep it together.
Ive finally returned to modern batch art! I love drawing them in fun outfits and on silly adventures.
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bilosan · 1 year
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buckley diaz family + road trip au      
(9-1-1 // gif prompts)
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piratefishmama · 9 months
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Fake it till you make it | Part 10
Eddie declined the invitation to stay for dinner that evening, politely of course, and genuinely solemn in his refusal. He would have actually liked to stay, the Harringtons weren’t… bad. They weren’t bad. As baffling as that notion was, they weren’t bad, but Eddie had dinner with Wayne every night. It was part of their routine, had been since his freshman year of Highschool and continued to be even now when they could see each other a lot more now that he wasn’t in Highschool anymore.
It'd always been the only time during the day where he’d be able to see Wayne before he went to work. A time where they could catch up, Wayne could ask him about school, now it was about the band, or if he’d had any luck finding an actual job, or if he’d heard any new gossip.
Wayne loved a bit of gossip. Quiet as he may have been, he soaked up gossip like a sponge because nobody ever expected him to be actually listening to the conversations they had around him.
What the Harringtons were actually like, he’d be on the edge of his seat waiting for that bit of juice. Metaphorically of course, Wayne was always the picture of calm indifference whenever he asked about the gossip, like it wasn’t deep down his life blood.
They had pretty solid excuses to not see each other for the rest of that week though.
Eddie had band practice, Steve had work, they’d ‘see each other’ in between where the parents couldn’t see and the only phone call that needed to happen between meet the parents day, and the day they left, was the night before to arrange the time when he ought to arrive back at the house with Uncle Wayne in tow.
It was… heaven, actually.
In Steve’s case anyway, that week, leading up to the week away? Bliss. Complete and utter bliss.
His parents were happy with him, they weren’t trying to introduce him to anyone, weren’t bothering him, sure they asked a couple of times if Eddie would be coming by, offering an open invite for dinner again, but they didn’t mind when Steve gave them the same excuse of he’s having dinner with Wayne!
The only issue he had was Robin and her teasing little “you made out with Eddie Munson” sing song she brought out at random while working together midway through the week, and no amount of “it was PRACTICE” would shut her up.
“I just can’t believe it!” She’d said while they were stocking shelves “you, Steve Harrington, Keg King, ruler of the jocks—”
“Ex, Robin, ex-king, pretty sure I haven’t been king of anything in years now” he’d shed that title. Let it fly free to land on a douchebag who wanted it more.
“Okay but still, lord of the jocks, with Eddie. King of the nerds.”
“And why is that so weird?” Why was she acting as if it were actually real? As if she hadn’t been there when Dustin had suggested the faux relationship.
“I didn’t think he’d be your type!”
“He’s not” the only real issue he had, was that maybe that wasn’t actually… completely, strictly... true, as he was rapidly beginning to realise.
And Robin knew it, if her scoffed little “ch’yeah OK, an I’m not a lesbian.” Was anything to go by. She let it go though.
She let it go because the chime above the door rang alerting them to customers, and their day continued on as normal.
Their week continued on as normal, with a brief appearance of the kids on the Thursday evening to try and sneak an R rated movie by him for a sleepover at the Wheeler’s but they didn’t get very far.
They took the Goonies despite Dustin’s very loud complaints about having seen it five times already and that he wasn’t going to do the truffle shuffle again, so don’t anyone ask him to do it, only to immediately lose all the wind in his very serious sails when Jane mentioned she’d yet to see him do it.
Friday was uneventful save for the phone call with Eddie the night before.
And then It was Saturday, and he was watching an old pick up pull up to a stop out front, watching Wayne Munson, in his well-worn jeans covered in dust, work boots, and flannel climb out of the truck. He may have been up all night working, but he was awake, alert, and he even grabbed Eddie’s bags out of the truck for him while Eddie sorted out his carryables.
A gym bag that’d never been used for gym full of… well, Steve didn’t know but it looked heavy, and a guitar case that looked fit for an acoustic rather than the beauty hung over the mirror in Eddie’s bedroom.
Steve rose to his feet and poked his head back through the front door to yell “The Munsons are here!” Before making his way down the drive to greet them halfway, taking Eddie’s suitcase from Wayne to put it by the door with the rest of their things with a friendly “morning, sir! How was your shift last night?”
“Exhaustin, an boy I told you over the phone, it’s just Wayne.”
“I know I just… have this, memory issue, bopped on the head a couple’a times, so you’re just gonna have to keep reminding me.” It earned a chuckle from the man and a gentle pat to his shoulder, and then Eddie was there, a bundle of energy dressed in a band tee with the sleeves chopped off and ripped black jeans, a buffalo check flannel wrapped and tied around his slim waist to complete ‘the look’. His hair wild and free as usual. “Eddie, you uh… you clean up nice…”
The smile was replaced with a look of surprise, Eddie doing a quick once over of himself as if he hadn’t actually— “I do? I didn’t—well I wasn’t trying to I mean—” tried to look good. He just naturally looked good. Of course, he just naturally looked good, the bastard.
“Guess it’s just a you thing then. Looking good I mean.” So smooth, but it worked. Eddie actually looked frozen in place, like a wire had just decided enough was enough and shorted out. It recovered quickly enough though, allowing Eddie to cutely hide behind his own hair, cheeks a pretty pink, dimpled by his bashful smile.
“Guess games on then huh, boys?” Wayne spoke through an amused chuckle, before turning his attention to the two adults who appeared in the doorway, both in… surprisingly relaxed attire.
When Wayne pictured the Harringtons, and he had once or twice when he’d overheard them being mentioned in town, he’d always kind of pictured two highly manicured people, pencil skirts, blazers, pressed slacks, polo shirts and pastel colours. Nothing old, nothing well worn, everything looking like it’d only just come off the rack and dry clean only.
Lynda however, in her red house socks, soft, dark brown, woollen skirt resting just below her knees, and baby-pink sweater tucked into her skirt, looked comfortable. And John was wearing something Wayne probably would have worn himself! Jeans and a simple dark blue button down shirt.
The only ‘manicured’ thing about them was that John was clean shaven, and Lynda’s honey brown hair looked freshly blown out. She wasn’t even wearing makeup, he felt like he’d stepped into some alternate reality where rich people were normal folk. “Mr Munson” John greeted as he stepped out of the house, hand extended which Wayne took to give a firm shake then released. “I see our boys are in a world of their own.” Wayne turned back to them as if to check and yep, they’d begun loading Eddie’s things into the Lincoln… slowly. Matching smiles on their faces as they talked about… god only knows what.
Damn scheme would make idiots out of the both of them. “Seems like.”
“Why don’t you come on inside and have a coffee, let the boys load everything up.” Well, he wasn’t going to turn down whatever fancy shit the Harringtons had in their cupboards, was he?
“Don’t mind if I do, might wake me up some.” And he was inside. The damn hallway looked bigger than his whole trailer for a moment. But no, it couldn’t be, it was just… long, and felt emptier without knick-knacks or pictures lining the walls. It was clean though, not even a hint of dust. “So… Steve lives here on his own while you two are away?”
“It wasn’t ideal” Lynda admitted softly “but Steven had to finish school so we couldn’t take him with us, and well, after that he was old enough to take care of himself. We keep in touch the best we can” calls were occasional, and they dropped in from time to time, but Steve was an adult now. It wasn’t like he was still a child.
He could probably move out if he wanted to. It wasn’t like he didn’t have access to the trust fund yet. It was his! He just hadn’t touched it yet, worked for his money, was clearly saving the fund for something more important.
“And the boys…” Wayne began once they reached the kitchen, a room full of mahogany and marble, John already there setting the coffee maker, everything pristine. Steve kept the whole place spotless, all on his own. Could be as supportive as they wanted, there was no excuse for leaving that boy all on his own for so damn long. “You don’t mind them bein… themselves around you? Now I've walked in on them up to all kinds'a nonsense, in a total world'a their own. They’re kinda touchy an they ain’t about to be like some bashful damsels actin shy with each other, they’re both men, an you supportin that means they’ll assume it’s okay to be who they are around you.”
Even though Wayne knew they weren’t actually a couple, he saw them, he saw their chemistry, he saw how Steve looked at his nephew, and he knew, he knew Eddie had had his fair share of mole related crisis’s over the years being in Steve’s vicinity in school.
There was no way they’d come out of this cleanly. Either of them. No drawn out fake date scheme ever ended cleanly.
“Boys will be boys.” Lynda chirped as if she wasnt even the slightest bit surprised, huh. “The chalet is quite large, Mr. Munson—”
“Wayne, please, ma’am.”
“Then, Lynda, if you please, Wayne” he gave her a curt nod “as I was saying, the chalet is large, there’s plenty of places for them to hide away, and I know Steven knows all of them. We used to play hide and seek when he was little, we almost had the police out searching for him once or twice, so I know he knows where to go if he wants a little privacy. We don’t expect them to be… chaste, our son is—” she paused, then looked to John with a slight scrunch in her nose.
“A slut.” Wayne was glad he wasn’t drinking anything yet because it’d have been all over the floor as he choked on his own saliva. John so nonchalant with how he said it. “We were all young once, Wayne and he’s no innocent child. Now I don’t know Eddie, but if I know my son…” and he liked to think he did, at least a little. “With what I saw the other day... i'm not surprised that they've already rounded a few bases.” A fair assessment. Their chemistry was off the charts. “How’d you take your coffee, Wayne?”
“And that ain’t an issue to you? Just black’s fine.” He was handed a mug filled with black coffee, clean, black porcelain, plain. Nothing fun about it. He still kind of wanted to take it home to add to the collection, the rare ‘expensive house, rich family’ mug.
“Not really no. As long as they're staying safe. The world is changing outside of Hawkins, and when you own a business you either change with it or get left behind.” A solid business stance, Wayne couldn’t argue with that but… if it was just for business then—
Lynda placed a hand on her husbands’ arm, offering a warm smile that reminded him a lot of Steve, that boy got a lot of his softness from his mother it seemed. “Eddie is delightful, a little quirky, looks a little different to the people we usually find in our home, but… if he can make our son look that happy just by being here, well… even if we wanted to stand in the way of it, which we don’t… I don’t believe we could. Steven is an adult now, and we can either support him in his decisions, or lose him.” Those were the options. Support him, or Steve would inevitably find his own way. “We may not be around as often as we’d like, we may have missed a lot of him growing up… but we would still rather support him than lose him. People like them… they deserve to be happy too, don’t you think?”
Wayne took a sip of his coffee, damn near groaned at the rich taste of quality grounds, both in love of the taste, and in mourning of what he'd only have once, but nodded his head in agreement. Approval. “Couldn’t have said it better myself. The peace an quiet at the trailer’s gonna be real strange.” He was giving his go ahead. “But… I suppose I can let him go on ahead with you.”
Eddie could go and he wouldn’t stop him. Although the chief would know where Eddie was, just in case he mysteriously disappeared, as terrifying as that thought was. As sobering and... mind changing, as that thought was.
No, Eddie would be fine. He'd be okay.
“Wonderful!” Lynda cheered, as if Eddie really was welcome among them. “So… has Eddie ever been on a plane before?”
Part 12
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cyanbeetle · 1 year
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Wearing a shirt that says ask me about my road trip au
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l-ii-zz · 9 months
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Fantastic, unrealistic thingy
(Yeah, it’s a reference to that SA2 video)
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mrghostrat · 4 months
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And They Were Streamers - 5/?
chapter 5: too fast, too slow (8.5k)
Crowley and Aziraphale share the drive to Edinburgh. Reassurances are had, questions are asked, and accounts are revealed.
“Shall I continue?” Crowley drawled, adjusting his sunglasses like they held any prescriptive value, like he was preparing to read something far more serious than a £3 petrol station romance novel. “Must you?” Aziraphale muttered, which Crowley ignored. “‘Okay,’ I whispered,” Crowley stage-whispered, feeling a little bit gross about it himself, “‘He glared at me, his dark brown eyes narrowed, and I felt like I might melt under the intensity of his gaze. I took a deep breath in through my nose and immediately regretted the decision, because he smelled incredible.’” “You’re having me on,” Aziraphale said severely.
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bunnieswithknives · 1 year
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Here we go! This was more difficult than I thought it would be and I’m not sure if I’m quite happy with all of them but I think these are good enough for now lol.
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djsherriff · 5 months
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Road trip au comic , I’m gonna try planning more out before continuing with it but I may either do less polished comics or an illustrated fanfic , hopefully I don’t loose motivation
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