bakerstreet | The Road Trip meme.

The Road Trip meme.

These guys quit their jobs right before their epic trip.

The Road Trip Meme

How To:
1. Post with your character and the usual information in the subject line and/or comment box. Be sure to include preferences!
2. Others tag you, and will you look at that, you're now on a road trip together! For some reason.
3. Optionally, roll from 1-16 to get your scenario.
4. Have fun and be excellent to each other.

Taken and slightly modified from this previous meme.

1: LOST You should have made a "left toin at Albuquerque," or maybe you've been holding the map upside down this whole time! Whatever it is, you're hopelessly LOST. Will you make it back on the path to your destination, or will you find a new adventure? Try not to open any hatches.

2: Tourist Trap Okay, you're all for seeing the sights, but World's Biggest Doorstopper? World's Smallest Chicken? World's Noisiest Whistle? Do we really have to stop here, too?

3: Car Trouble Maybe you got a flat tire. Maybe your engine's stalled. Or maybe you just overestimated how far you could get on a half tank of gas. Either way, you're broke down on the side of the road and the nearest station is miles away; either fix it yourself or you better get behind it and push!

4: Bad Weather Driving in the rain? No problem. Driving in torrential downpours or a blinding blizzard? Big problem! Better find a way to get out of the storm fast!

5: When Ya Gotta Go... Didn't I tell you to go before we left? Well, even if you did, maybe you shouldn't have had that 44 ounce Super Big Gulp, because there's not another rest stop for miles. Maybe you can find an empty bottle in the back...

6: Road Delays Stuck in traffic? Stuck at road construction? Stuck in a funeral procession? Bridge out? Whatever it is, it's blocking your way. Do you wait patiently, or maybe find your own way around it?

7: Smokey and the Bandit Oh no, those blue lights behind you can't be good. Maybe you should just pull over and accept your speeding ticket like a decent citizen. Or, maybe you should floor it. High speed chase anyone?

8: Night Driving You decided to drive through the night, and now it's one AM and you're all out of coffee. Wake up a friend and make them help you stay awake; falling asleep at the wheel is dangerous!

9: Ghost Town Boy, this town sure is quiet. And... kind of creepy. Oh God, did something in those corn rows just move? I hear banjo music; CAN'T YOU DRIVE ANY FASTER?!

10: Roadkill Good going, you hit an animal. I sure hope you feel good about yourself. Now you've killed the poor- oh, it's still moving? What do we do now!?
10a: The I Know What You Did Last Summer Edition That animal you hit was a little more human than you care for... oh dear...

11: ROAD RAGE That jerk cut me off! How dare he!? I'll make him pay! Or maybe you cut off a less-than-friendly driver of your own, and now he's after you...

12: Carjacked Awww, that was a good lunch. ...Wait, I know this is where we parked... Dude, where's the car!?!?

13: Hitchhiking Who said you needed a car for a road trip? Stick that thumb out and catch a ride where you're going. Maybe you and a buddy are chillin' with the pigs in a trailer, or maybe that nice looking hitchhiker you picked up down the road is not as nice as you thought...

14: Fantasy Car Roads? Where you're going, you don't need roads. If you're in Doc's DeLorean, anyway. Or maybe the car is really Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. Or KITT. Or the Batmobile. Or a Transformer! Whatever it is, this car is NOT normal.

15: Road Head Obligatory sex-in-the-car option. Pulling over is the better and safer idea but some people just can't stop...

16: Are We There Yet? Roller's choice! Pick your favorite option, or two, or three, or just roll with whatever feels right!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only | Expand All

[ lydia nibbles. it's dainty and ladylike and mostly to preserve her lip gloss because it will remain perfect until she deems to take all her makeup off (it's part of the illusion to unmarred perfection). it also comes in handy for keeping her hands clean, as these burgers are messy, and never having her mouth too full so as to not snap at him to put both hands on the wheel because the food could wait. ]

[ she's done by the time they reach the motel and uses up several napkins before leaning into the front passenger seat and extracting a jacket. ]

Where's the office?

Under the sign that says office, I guess.

[ stiles slurps his shake obnoxiously. he's pretty tired. driving constantly is great, but it takes a lot of concentration, and sometimes that's harder for him than other people. ]

I'll get the bags if you deal with the office, kay Lydia?

But it's raining.

[ which is unusual enough that virtually no one owns an umbrella, let alone thinks to pack one whe traveling. but they're really both damned to get wet, be it while dragging bags from the car or skittering across the parking lot to negotiate terms with the front desk. and what she lacks in upper body strength she could more than make up for in negotiating terms. ]

Ugh. Fine. Don't drop anything.

[ laura ashley products were not waterproof. there's a haughty ruffle to get out of the car and she leaves the door open before trotting briskly to that office building with the sign and lights on inside. ]

[ it takes her a good while to return, and when she does it is with an even swifter kick in her step, a scowl creasing her features and a single room key pressed tightly in hand. ]

Edited 2012-11-26 23:51 (UTC)

[ stiles doesn't drop anything. ]

[ he carefully hauls all of their stuff out of the car piece by piece, and stacks it nearly in the dry area under the stairs that lead to the second story balcony. he looks along the row of doors, decides it's late enough that no-one will steal their stuff, and parks his jeep before running back through the rain. despite his speed, he's pretty soaked, so he's shivering as he kicks back against the wall and eats his burger. the hot food — well, lukewarm, now — helps warm him a little, keeps him occupied until lydia comes storming back. ]

[ she looks so pissed off that for a moment stiles thinks maybe they'd lost the booking, or don't have any rooms, and he'll have to pack everything back in the jeep. they could probably get a hotel room — more expensive, sure, but he had a little emergency money for just that kind of scenario. but no, there's a key in her hand. he stuffs the greasy in-and-out wrapper in his pocket and shoulders up most of the bags, leaving her with only the makeup case. ]

Okay!

Not good.

[ oh that's a little bit of seething. ]

I distinctly asked for two rooms. Two.

[ of course everything here is made worse by the fact she's wet and cold, that water is getting on the suede heels she hadn't waterproofed and soaking through to her socks. made worse by the fact a brief walk had not immediately assuaged by that brief walk and the smell of the jeep was in her clothes. it's mostly the rain that sucks, but it's the small things that are surmounting to make her downright pissed off. ]

And you know what they gave me?

[ yeah it didn't really take a genius to figure out. sure, the desk people had apologized profusely and tried to assuage her with the promise of extra towels and complementary hot tub use, but they simply didn't have any extra rooms as there was a high school frisbee tournament at one if the large fields they passed and all the rooms have been occupied by players and their parents. all of whom had had long standing reservations and were staying more than one night so they got priority. they were admirable desk people, for they'd stuck to their guns as she'd begun to rage, which had just made her more angry, the brunt of which she is now taking out on the key, holding the small plastic label so the actual key dangled from the ring - solitary and jangling on that little circle of metal - when she thrust it forward for his inspection. ]

[ and for emphasis. ]

One.

[ one. ]

[ stiles breathes out hard, with a high-pitched little noise like she just took a boot to his balls. but after a second of looking like he's about to walk towards the light at the end of the tunnel, he pulls himself together. and sure, it's still like the macy's parade inside his head and his brain is already running through three different scenarios in which they have sex, it's just a fantasy. he knows better. ]

Okay. That's cool.

[ he nods, and holds up his hands in a don't-kill-me shrug before she can, well, kill him. ]

I mean, you can have the room. We'll put all the bags in there, and I'll sleep in the jeep.

[ the cold, leaking, not entirely secure jeep. it actually wouldn't be the first time he's done it, and stiles figures this trip is crappy enough already, lydia could probably use a little chivalry. ]

Your jeep leaks.

[ not to mention is tiny as all hell. if chivalry isn't dead it will be sniffling and strung out on cold medicine tomorrow. ]

[ she's trying her best to calm down, but closing her eyes and breathing forcefully slow just isn't doing it for her. what had gone wrong? she'd called ahead, done her research, and this crappy motel had gotten three stars on yelp - which was two more than any other place within easy driving distance - for their service and downturned bedsheets. and then they'd gone and messed up her reservation and given away their other room to some stupid, smelly mini-sports jocks. ]

[ no, simple breathing and closing her eyes so she didn't roll them right out of their sockets was not enough and lydia makes the very smart move of self-soothing with fingers carting through her decompressing hair. ]

It's going to be fine. They said there are two queen beds.

[ two beds. the party in his head dulls down some, but he's also keen, since while he's willing to sleep in the jeep? he doesn't exactly want to. two beds is an okay compromise, even if stiles isn't sure he'll be able to sleep knowing lydia is only the next bed over. ]

Hey, that's not too bad.

[ he keeps his voice soothing, since she looks kinda stressed, and starts hauling their bags towards the room. he heaves his own onto his shoulder (which is probably going to be strained in the morning, thank you, machismo) and plucks the key from her as he passes so he can get the door and she can... well, she can have a moment to herself out under the awning in the rainy carpark. ]

[ he matches the number on the key to the number on the door, humming under his breath as he fumbles it open and then nearly falls inside. he has to put all the bags down before he can grapple for a light-switch, and then he just stands there amid them and looks at the room. ]

[ his pleased expression drops. yeahhhh, he's gonna be sleeping in the jeep after all. ]

Lydia...

[ he calls back to her with growing horror, and then winces to himself. ]

Maaan, you're really not gonna like this.

[ okay. ]

[ okay, she's calm. perfectly calm, calm and ready to face the room and take it completely at face value without questioning how many people have had sex in the shower while she washes her hair. calm enough to stoop to pick up the abandoned make-up bag and follow in his footsteps with an assertive swing of her hips. she wouldn't break anything or throw a fit over such an insignificant screw up. it's perfectly fine and not as bad as them having no room at all and both being forced to sleep in the jeep. ]

[ that? that would be horrible. they'd have to sleep in their clothes and brush their teeth with the melted ice from her in-and-out soda and it would be cold because they couldn't risk killing the battery and she for one did not pack any blankets. so this is fine. cool. just fine she thinks as she walks the slim covered sidewalk to their room. they'll watch a couple episodes of television, brush their teeth in a sink, crawl into their separate beds - ]

[ ...their separate beds. ]

[ their separate beds that better just be pushed together and dressed with one blanket or she is going to scream. ]

[ might scream regardless. though the question is if it will be at the front desk, him, or the general world and just disturb all of the motel occupants. good screw them. whatever tantrum may or may not be building is effectively started with a bang as she slams the door. ]

You have got to be kidding me.

[ stiles swallows. he picks up his junky, battered old suitcase that he bought second-hand 'cause it made him think of explorers and shit, brings it over and kicks it into a corner before opening it. he loves lydia, he really does, but he doesn't have the patience for her bullshit right now. ]

Tomorrow morning, you're so getting us a refund.

[ he's pulling out bathroom stuff (boy bathroom stuff, which is soap and a toothbrush and a little travel shaving kit) sleep stuff (his boxers are plaid, and he tries to stuff them under the tshirt so she won't see) an oversized hoodie. his movements have a kind of repressed frustration to them, throwing clothes around; stiles has always been messy. ]

Just let me use the shower and it's all yours.

[ he waves a hand at the room, having obviously returned to plan jeep even though it's thundering outside, raining some proverbial household pets. ]

[ the refund to end all refunds; the kind that involved asking to speak with a manager and coupons for next time as well as a handful of cash and strained smiles as they waved them through the parking lot. quite a list of things she'd like to say and tactics she plans to use is being written. she'd dwell on this topic all night if allowed. ]

[ dwell on it whilst ushering him to the bathroom with jerky, deliberate gestures and a hissed; ] Go, then.

[ dwell on it as she tossed the larger of her bags onto the bed and fished out a neatly folded pink two piece sleepwear set, dwell on it as she realized the window shades were still open and cross the floor to close them. pity threatens to derail her vindictive moody funk as she peers out at the dimly lit parking lot. the rain had not let up in the slightest; she'd venture it's gotten even worse and broods over having to sit in a damp car tomorrow before it occurs that she should feel worse for him than herself if he's truly going to sleep out there. ]

[ there's a couch; a low riding, second hand store sort of couch decorated with a kind of lurid floral pattern. upon inspection, it doesn't fold out and she nearly kicks it before dragging all the cushions onto the floor. she arranges them in a straight line a few feet from the bed, but it's too short of a "bed" so she goes to the thin linen closet across from the bathroom and pulls out the towels - saving two for her own shower - and rolling them up to add an extra half foot. ]

[ he gets the comforter and two of the sham pillows, and she keeps the sheets and the thinner, softer pillows for herself. the water is still running by the time she is done macgyver-ing a bed, and while she's cold and wet, lydia merely sheds her jacket, assembles her own towels and toiletry bag (much more extensive than his), perches on the edge of the bed and waits. ]

[ stiles jerks off silently and perfunctorily in the shower, because after a day spent with lydia, how could he not? and once he's washed and done and dry, he gets into his pyjamas, the big hoodie enveloping him. orgasm's played into his tiredness and the perfect ache-easing heat of the shower, so he's soft and sleepy-eyed when he finally pads out (hoping that he's tired enough to be able to fall asleep in the jeep. ]

[ but... maybe he won't have to? he looks at the bed on the floor, nudges it with the toe of his shoe and then gives her a deeply vulnerable look. ]

Uh, Lydia...?

[ her nail beds we in need of a good deal of attention whilst in the light, and she entertains herself by pushing at her cuticles and toeing off her shoes while waiting for him to finish up. once he does and the bathroom is vacated, lydia spares him but a glance before rising and collecting her assembled show battalion. ]

[ completely ignoring his question; ]

Oh, you're done then? My turn.

Lydia.

[ this time a bit more forceful, because he hates it when he ignores him, and he doesn't grab her, but he gets in her way a little. he looks down at her, sucks his lower lip into his mouth for a moment, because being cared about, having someone look out for him, even in the smallest of ways? hurts like a bitch. ]

Thank you.

[ and then he gets out of her way. she's gonna have a shower and he'll probably need to distract himself from that or else all his earlier hard work will be undone, so he focusses on dragging his suitcase over to his makeshift "bed", using some clothes to plump it up even though he's pretty sure it's going to be the most uncomfortable thing in the world. he strips off his hoodie, too: there's central heating in the motel room, and it'll make a pretty good pillow. then the just lays on his bed and plugs his phone onto the charger and screws around with a touch-screen game. ]

[ she doesn't bother to say you're welcome, because that would be admittance to having gone out of her way to be nice to him, which could completely devalue all those years she'd spent ignoring him. if she was to ever go out for a job that required her to ignore someone, stiles would be her prime reference and a testimony to her dedication. ]

[ he's tall enough that she has to tilt her chin up - like when she goes to kiss jackson - to look him in the face, but if she is not going to give him much of a response but to shrug her shoulders and skirt past him to the bathroom, she can at least deign to look him in the eyes. there may be the slightest nod too, but she's quick to seclude herself in the tiled room that smells of heat, soap and bleach residue. ]

[ a long shower seems well deserved, and she runs the water to warm up the small room before stripping and climbing in. she washes her hair (lathers, rinses and repeats included) and her body, then simply allows the water to fall around her and enjoys the heat. time slips away as quickly as the water swirling the drain, and it's just when her fingers begin to wrinkle like raisins that she pulls the knob and shuts off the water. ]

[ toweling dry, slipping into her pajamas and wrapping her head into a towel, she exits the bathroom in a much more relaxed calm. everything was working out - it wasn't ideal, but it was fine and wouldn't happen in the next motel, nor on the way back. ]

[ so really there was nothing to worry about except turning off the light and crawling into bed. ]

Don't forget to set your alarm.

Kay.

[ he does it right then and there, because otherwise he'll mean to but it'll get lost in the other thought processes and eventually forgotten. he sets the phone up on the windowsill, stretching so his shirt rides up, because if it's not a little hard to get to he'll just roll over and turn it off in his sleep. ]

Night, Lydia.

[ he thinks it's probably best to keep quiet, so that she can forget he's there. but the couch cushions and sham pillows and wadded towels and hoodie and even the comforter wrapped around him still all add up to a lumpy bed. he's too hot, and then he's too cold, and if he sleeps on his side the couch cushions slide apart, but if he sleeps on his stomach his spine bends in a weird way, and sleeping on his back seems like it's just asking for trouble: snoring and morning wood, to name just a few embarrassments. ]

[ stiles tosses and turns, exhausted to the bone but somehow unable to get to sleep. he should have taken the jeep; it would have at least been familiar in its discomfort. ]

Night.

[ she finishes drying her hair in the mostly-dark, but doesn't have the drive to pick her way through the room by the light of the parking lot lights that still manage to infiltrate the room through the shades in order to return the towel to the bathroom. the side of the bed proves the best place for the damp cloth and, suddenly cold after divesting it, lydia makes short work of climbing into bed and curling up. ]

[ sleep comes easy enough, but it's a light sleep; she doesn't even remember falling asleep, but the dream she remembers because the dream is familiar. ]

[ there are claws dragging along horribly burned backs, ripping at the blackened skin that reminds her of nothing because they do not include pictures like this in text books and news segments. there are teeth so large and sharp that they tear through petrified, heat-dried lips when they elongate. human mouths open wider than they're supposed to, but then again they're supposed to be human but not, and peter hale keeps showing up in her bed covered in worms and dirt. when he strokes her hair, it falls out, and he coos to her that she doesn't have to be beautiful so long as she's smart and does what she's told. ]

[ sometimes these dreams take sexual routes and always end up with her standing naked in the middle of the lacrosse field, sometimes with sheriff stilinski's coat around her shoulders and hospital bracelet around her wrist. it's always winter time in her dream and their breath curls in the air in the most realistic way. it scares her and she always closes her eyes and wills herself to wake up once she realizes it's a dream. ]

[ but tonight her dream is violent and ends with the bloody scene that could have been her birthday party and a very, very human peter ripping out her throat in the pool. in her dream it hurts all the much more because he is human, his teeth blunt, and so normal looking it challenges the truth of werewolves as she's come to know them: scott is still babyfaced when he's human, and jackson still surprises her by sneaking up and putting his hands on her hips when her back is turned. it's when peter turns into jackson, and when jackson's face starts petrifying and turning scaly again that she wakes up. ]

[ wakes up and sits bolt upright. she doesn't scream anymore, but there's a sort of strangled gurgle that is ripped from her vocal chords and swallowed down the wrong way. it hurts and she touches her throat with trepidation, expecting it to come away bloody and only feeling the blood of her pulse and the harsh breathing that is trying to regulate and soothe her. ]

[ looks like he is victorious. quiet, low to the ground, and not a werewolf - so he continues to slip under her radar, just like usual. she's completely forgotten he's even there. ]

[ stiles hears the noise, even if it's not a scream, and rolls again, then pushes himself up, peeking over the edge of the bed to see that she's sitting up in the dark. her hand is at her throat and he may not be a werewolf but he can still hear her breathing, a repetitive rasp in the dark. ]

Lydia?

[ his voice is tentative, bleary, and he pulls himself into a proper sitting position. he wants so badly to hold her, tell her it'll be okay. ]

Hey, Lydia, it was just a dream, okay? You're safe. You're safe here with me.

[ as though he was a real bastion of protection. if a werewolf or a hunter came crashing through their motel window, what the hell could he do? but right now he thinks the only danger is her fear, and that he can fight with all he's got. ]

[ laugh when you're hurting; that's a coping mechanism she'd think he'd understand. in light of how little her simple dismissal seems to work anymore, it's time to try something new. ]

[ so she laughs, but it's dark and devoid of any real humor. it's empty and rattling, and she has to actively will herself to stop to choke it off. he's a dark, lurking shadow alongside her bed, and it's terrifying. her lips press tight and eyes blink furiously to beat back tears because these nightmares are not worthy of disturbing her - even if they still do. ]

Yeah right. Keep telling yourself that, Stiles.

[ she does not mean to be hurtful, but safety is a lie and he deserves to know that nothing is just a nightmare for long. ]

Edited 2012-11-30 22:35 (UTC)

I'm serious. Lydia...

[ despite feeling intrusive, he pulls himself up to sit beside her in the bed, fumbles for the bedside lamp. she's gorgeous, crying and sleep-rumpled and in her pyjamas, but that's... not the point right now. stiles' face is creased in concern, and he reaches for her hand. ]

I would rather die than let something happen to you. You get that, right?

[ lydia's reluctant to be touched. she curls her fingers into a white-knuckled fist and it's a good thing she spent so much time filing her nails while in the car and while he was in the shower because any longer and they might break the skin of her palms. he may manage just a brush of the fingers over her knuckles before she's pulling back, cradling it to her chest as if touching burned. ]

Yeah, I get it. That's very brave of you. We'd both be dead, but at least you were chivalrous about it.

I stopped him killing you. That night on the field. Just because—

[ he makes a frustrated noise, and drives a fist into the mattress. he's overtired, and this is a hang-up. ]

I don't need to have cool werewolf powers or- or whatever, okay? I'm not gonna let the people I love get hurt, and that's that.

[ what a stupid time to be arguing with her, but her coldness and sarcasm and the way she pulls away has left him upset and bitter. ]

If he wanted to kill me, I'd be dead.

[ because in the end, peter hale needed her. he probably didn't know to what extent at the time of the formal, but from what she had learned about werewolves and packs since then spanned several text books that had led her to two conjectures: ]

[ one: alpha's were stronger with a pack - though that was more fact than assumption because damn if no one hesitated to bring up. ]

[ and two: no human could stand up to an alpha werewolf unless they were armed up the wazoo and back like the argents always were. ]

[ lydia rolls her eyes but isn't really sure at what anymore aside from her own stupidity for still being upset about all this. maybe at him, too. because as boldly as he speaks, it's still stupid. ]

If you keep talking like that - and act on what you say -, you're just going to be the one who gets hurt. [ have a little self preservation and suck up the martyrdom; it's making her uncomfortable to sit so close to someone so selfless. ]

You think I care?

[ stiles looks over at her in the darkness, his heart hurting with the admission he normally keeps locked up inside himself. he doesn't want to get hurt or humiliated, but if he did, so what? he probably deserved it. there's nothing selfless in his masochism. ]

I'd rather be dead than standing at another freaking funeral, okay?

[ he chokes on the words, voice breaking, and he realizes his eyes have teared up. great. he didn't have a nightmare; he didn't even sleep. it's been a long day and he's tired and now the girl he likes thinks he's even more of an idiot because he's gonna cry in front of her. ]

[ stiles locks his jaw up tight, holds his breath, shoulders tense as he tries to hold off. ]

[ the realization that she is not the only person in this room suffering from repressed negative emotions hits like a ton of bricks, and lydia turns to look at him with a furrowed brow and parted lips that have nothing to do with the fact her nose is too stuffed up with emotional blockage and snot to let her avoid mouth breathing. ]

[ pity is an unwanted emotion between the two of them; she does not want his pity and she is pretty sure he wouldn't want hers - but they're sitting here, close to tears, and she's never seen him cry before. it's fair, technically, since she cried first in their sophomore year, and while she doesn't think tear puffed cheeks or a ruddy, tearful complexion do much for his features, it definitely makes him look vulnerable. ]

[ which probably isn't much better than pitiful. ]

You should care. [ but it's okay; her sniffles are pathetic too. ] You can't go around preaching that everyone else should value their lives if you don't.

The Road Trip meme.

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can the motel give them a room with only a double bed

pretty sure we're on the same wavelengths because you just read my mind

yes good

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oh wait i excluded this from my chronological order whoops

yeah I was wondering what had happened here!!!

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