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mysharona1987 · 4 months
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existennialmemes · 5 months
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Christmas Movie, but it's from the perspective of Jesus Christ, who sneaks back to Earth, and is immediately confused why everyone is celebrating his birthday in December.
He wanders into a Megachurch on accident, thinking it was a mini mall, and hears an evangelist (who lives in a mansion) taking the Lord's name in Vain to guilt donations out of people. Then he gets arrested for rushing the stage and beating that guy with a whip.
A significant chunk of the movie is just his elaborate escape from prison, wherein he starts a riot upon learning how cruelly the prisoners are treated by a blasphemous carceral system.
The movie ends with him using God Magic on the president of the US, and being formally declared the Anti Christ by the Catholic Church
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wingsofhcpe · 11 months
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actually there's a huge difference between queerbaiting/"Hey guys look how gay these two are haha they're definitely gonna end up together, give us views uwu oh- never mind oops they're going to superhell" and "Hey it's 2004-2012 and there's no way we can get away with having our protags/main couple be two gay men but we really want to show these two are soulmates so we'll do it through subtext and underlying messages and by literally telling you over and over again their relationship is the most stable and important in the entire show, and the ending will imply they lived and died together", and it's insane that some of yall don't see how these two are not the same fucking thing.
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saw-24 · 2 years
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the-ace-with-spades · 9 months
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The year is 1995 and Mav disappears off radars on a mission overseas. He's declared MIA and then when satellite pictures of an F-14's wreck show up, declared KIA.
It's a hot August evening when Ice opens his front doors to see a Navy officer with a precisely folded flag in his arms and a JAG lawyer with a suitcase full of documents. Baby Goose should be already sleeping upstairs, preparing for their planned camping trip the day after.
Ice lets them in without a word.
They walk past the living room where Ice had been checking their tent for rust, straight to the kitchen table. They don't sit down.
"On behalf of the President of the United States, the United States Navy—"
"Spare me the bullshit."
He's still holding the flag, letter on top of it, seal unbroken.
"Why are you even here? I'm not his—" Loved one. Ice was just—there. A close friend. A wingman. It doesn't matter whether he loves Mav or not, he will always be just someone in his life, not his loved one. "I'm just his best friend."
"Commander Mitchell stated this address as Bradley Bradshaw's main residence during deployment."
Jesus Christ. He can't—Bradley. What was he going to tell Bradley?
"Commander Mitchell's sole beneficiary is Bradley Bradshaw, and since he's a minor, we need to execute his will alongside our condolences." Bradley lost another parent. And all he has left is a will. "You've been named as Bradley Bradshaw's legal guardian if Commander Mitchell was—unable to take care of him."
"He's never told me that."
He didn't. Not even a word. He knew Mav had a will, they all did. But he never thought enough to make sense of the details.
It couldn't be Ice. He couldn't exist on paper in Mav's life or in Bradley's life.
"You can refuse—"
Ice phases out the words that come after — Mav can't be gone, Mav couldn't have left Bradley to him, Mav couldn't have thought he would be able to care for Bradley alone, without Mav's help and guidance. He couldn't have left them both there with broken hearts.
Ice doesn't believe this. It can't be true. If he stares long enough, the two officers in front of him are going to disappear and he will get a late night call from Mav from the ship and will wake up Baby Goose so they could chat and—
"Ice, I know I should be asleep but can we check if we got enough jars for bugs? I really want to—"
Ice finally comes back to the surroundings.
Bradley stands in the kitchen door, noticing the two people in there, in uniforms. "I'm sorry, sirs, I didn't know—"
At that exact moment, Bradley notices the flag and the unopen letter. He can see it nice and clear — his face falls and he doesn't look at anything but the goddamn flag and the stupid letter made on behalf of the President.
Ice stops breathing. "Bradley—"
"No," he says, shaking his head, so quiet. "Not again, no—"
Before Ice can say anything, Bradley is running back up the stairs.
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lukehughes43 · 9 months
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dial drunk
trevor zegras x reader based and inspired by the song "dial drunk" by noah kahan.
warnings: drinking, angst, lots of angst, swearing, a few mentions of sex word count: 17,332 i'm sorry😭
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“hey y/n/n, it’s uh, it’s trevor.” 
his words were slurred together into one big drunken mess which trevor always turned into when he was home in bedford at the same time as you. despite everything telling you to delete the message right then and there, you kept listening, feeling as if there was something you needed to hear from his drunken ramblings.
“fuck i don’t even know why i’m calling you,” his laugh had a melancholy feeling to it, “i just remembered i promised to forget you, doya remember that, y/n/n?” 
of course, you remembered. you were the one who made him promise to forget all about you after your less-than-clean break-up nearly three years ago now. thinking that it would be best for both of you and selfishly more so better for yourself. 
“but i broke that promise, just like i broke so many other promises, right y/n/n?” there was a painful silence as it seemed as if he was waiting for you to answer him. only it was a voicemail, and you were never going to answer him. “wrong.” it was a hissed out slur. one that caused your heart that was finally taped together to slowly unravel. “i never broke any promises to you, y/n, well except this one.” 
trevor let out a sigh, “i uh, i’m only making this fucking call because i have to tell you something. because i called you two nights ago. you hung up on me. you didn’t call me back.” he was hiccuping between words, whether it was because he was drunk or on the verge of having a breakdown was unclear to you. “i don’t like it, that they called you. that even after all this time i’m still so fucking in love with you i gave them your name y/n. your name. in a city full of my family and friends, but i said your name.” that’s when the tears fell. 
for both of you.
you listened to him fall apart from the safety of your childhood bedroom that still had pictures of trevor and you lingering around it. hands tugging at the loose thread of your duvet as his sobs rang throughout your ears like your dial tone did when he tried calling you last night - surprised that he managed to hear your honey-sweet voice on your voicemail outgoing. 
“i just wanted you to know that - that i don’t like that i gave them your name as my emergency phone call as they threw me in the cop car.” there was a long sigh before a forced laugh fell from his lips, “and one more thing, the cops? yeah, all of them thought you were wrong for hanging up on me.”
there was another beat of silence and you knew it was because he was contemplating what to say next. if he even wanted to say something, or just hang up on you, your voicemail, like you had him two nights ago when he was hurt and needed you. 
he let out another shaky breath before he contiuned speaking, sending you into a crippling mess. “i dial your number drunk, y/n. honestly, at this point i’ll probably die a drunk, but that doesn’t change the fact that i would still die for you.”
and just like that, the message was over. trevor’s normally smooth voice was gone, the only thing to be heard was the sound of the rain falling against the glass of your window and your heart shattering in the pit of your stomach once more. 
----
being back in bedford was normally exactly what trevor needed to rest from the demanding schedule of the nhl. normally being the keyword in that sentence. bedford had lost its calming effect on trevor the moment you had broken up almost three years ago. now he only had a sense of calm in his hometown when you were stuck away in boston because of school. what happened when you were in bedford at the same time? trevor turned into a drunken mess, days blurring together and not in a good way, praying that the alcohol would help suppress his feelings if he were to run into you. hoping that it would help him forget you like he had promised that night you stood across from each other in the cold new york air. 
only it never did, despite how hard he tried. 
meaning the time trevor spent in bedford grew shorter and shorter each time he came to visit his family. reaching the point where he spent the entire summer split between the hughes lake house, and jack and quinn’s shared home in michigan last year just to get away from the pain you still caused him. 
pain caused based on the fact you refused to love him anymore, and he still wasn’t sure why. 
trevor and you had been together for four years before you decided to break up with him before he left for world juniors in the winter of 2020 (in which he went on to win mvp and a gold medal). you were crazy about each other and had been since you first met. your relationship had made it through two different long-distance periods, was going to make it through a third before you ended it, and everyone was convinced you were going to get married. that’s why you ending it blindsided him as much as did. sent him into such a spiral that he had no choice but to take out his emotions during the world juniors tournament and walk away the highest-scoring american since jeremy roenick. 
after winning gold and heading back to san diego he was fine. at least that’s what he told everyone - including himself. in reality, he was drowning every night in his tears and not drinking alcohol, yet. the drinking started that summer. 
he was out to eat with his family on the main stretch of roads that ran right through bedford. his world stopped as he watched you walk across the street, laughing along to something your best friend gracie had said. the wind was taken right from his chest as his green eyes stared at you, willing you to look over at him, to see him, to will him back to breathing. only you didn’t even turn your head in his direction, instead ducking inside the little coffee shop and sitting at a table full of friends he recognized from your grad party. 
that was the first time he had seen you since you broke his heart into a million different pieces, and it was the first time he felt the need to drink himself to sleep while in the same city as you. each time he’d seen you since then had gotten more complex and harder for him. causing him to keep reaching for whatever bottle he could get his hands on once he was safe from the curse of you. 
leading up all to this moment in time. june seventh, two thousand and twenty-three. 
his hand was shaking as he reached for his phone, throat dry despite the empty corona bottle that rested in the cup holder of his plastic chair. your contact was taunting him, your e/c eyes staring back at him from the picture he had never changed. your entire contact in his iphone remained as it did three years ago, “y/n/n<3” right in the middle of the screen, and the picture of you hoisted up on his back at the draft staring back at him right above it. 
there wasn’t a chance for him to even think about what he was doing, not that he could because he was far from sober after all, the dial tone was filling his ears. as trevor sat and waited for you to pick up the phone it felt as if the entire world was on the verge of falling apart around him. he thought it was about to end completely when the dial tone finally came to an end, only instead a recording of your voice filled his ears:
“hey, it’s y/n! sorry i missed your call, i’ll call you back as soon as i can. until then, smile at a stranger and make their day. bye!” 
the twenty-two-year-old had to choke back a sob at the sound of your voice for the second time in three years. he’d never made it this far before, to your voicemail, normally he hung up after the second ring of the dial tone. that was until two nights ago when he called you from the police station after the ride in the back of the cop car. now he was struggling with what he wanted to say to you in the first place, the drunk thoughts overpowering his sober thoughts that he was originally called to try and say. 
“hey y/n/n, it’s uh, it’s trevor,” he began. silently praying the slur in his words wasn’t as noticeable through the phone as if you were going to be sitting here next to him. “fuck, i don’t even know why i’m calling you.” a heartbreaking laugh fell passed his lips, hand running through his rain-soaked hair. “i just remembered i promised to forget you, doya remember that, y/n/n?” 
while he thought he could get away with slurring in his opening sentence he knew you’d hear the slurring of his words in that line, practically able to smell the alcohol through the phone that he reeked. light beer and fresh rainwater were the new scents trevor zegras was sporting, his favorite when he was stuck in his thoughts about you. thoughts like why you even asked him to promise you something like that, how was he supposed to forget you? he’d been in love with you for four years before you broke things off, you can’t just force yourself out of love. 
shaking his head he pulled himself out of his drunken thoughts to get back to the task at hand, “but i broke that promise, just like i broke so many other promises, right y/n/n?” licking his lips trevor stayed silent, wanting for a response. for your voice to cut through the patter of raindrops on the hardwood beneath his bare feet. wait for you to exclaim ‘you never broke your promise, trevor john’ only there was no answer. there would never be an answer so he hissed out, “wrong. i never broke any promises to you, y/n, well expect this one.” sighing he fell back into his chair, reaching down into the cooler next to his chair, and pulled out another beer. “i uh, i’m only making this fucking call because i have to tell you something.” he popped the cap of the corona off before speaking again. “because i called you, two nights ago.” drink. “you hung up on me.” drink. “you didn’t call me back.” drink. “i don’t like it, that they called you. that even after all this time i’m still so fucking in love with you i gave them your name, y/n. your name. in a city full of my family and friends, but i said your name.” tears began to carve a path down his tanned cheeks, mixing with the rain drops as they both fell in a perfect rhythm together. 
his sobs subsided just enough to get out the right of his message. “i just wanted you to know that - that i don’t like that i gave them your name as my emergency phone call as they threw me in the cop car.” a mix between a deep sigh and a laugh-filled the dark backyard before he left his final blow: “and one more thing, the cops? yeah, all of them thought you were wrong for hanging up on me.” 
trevor fought with himself, trying to decide if he was worth telling you. worth allowing himself to turn into the charming young man you once knew, and for a split second, what remained of his former self had shown through and he let out the confession he was terrified to hear, and more terrified of what you would do once you’d listen to his voicemail. if you even did listen to his voicemail. 
“i dial your number drunk, y/n.” tears fell down his cheeks as he allowed the self pity to wash over him. as he finally accepted the fact he was the villain in what was a once a famed love story. “honestly, at this point i’ll probably die a drunk, but that doesn’t change the fact that i would still die for you.” 
he hit the red circle so quickly that he almost cut off his final word, but he didn’t care. because now he was stuck thinking about how his downward spiral caused by you breaking up with him three years ago had hit its rock bottom two nights ago. all because he started throwing drunk punches to defend the honor of somebody he didn’t even know anymore. 
----
june fifth, two thousand and twenty-three. while to many others it was just a normal monday night at the start of summer, to you and trevor, june fifth was the biggest turning point in your no longer-existent relationship - yet neither of you knew it. 
while you were in your room getting ready for a date - only the second one you’d gone on since breaking up with trevor - your former lover was busy writing down a list of food needed from the grocery store. as you finished applying your lipstick (trevor’s favorite shade on you no less) he was across town throwing reusable bags into the back of his bronco. 
there were butterflies in your stomach as you walked downstairs to sit and wait in your living room. since trevor, this was the first time you had genuinely felt nervous over a guy. granted it was only the second date you had gone on in close to three years you still had hooked up with a couple at parties but none of them made you feel anything and left you thinking about trevor as you waited to make your escape once they’d fallen asleep. 
trevor on the other hand couldn’t keep a girl even if he wanted to. how could he when every girl he spent time with he compared directly to you - the love of his life? occasionally he’d find himself stumbling around a random girl from the bar’s apartment, but it never lasted. no matter how good the sex was, or wasn’t, he was never completely satisfied. his mind stuck thousands of miles away with you. 
your date, charlie, was over ten minutes late the next time you glanced at your phone and the butterflies in your stomach had slowly started to die. sighing you slouched back against your coach while trying to ignore the watchful eyes of your parents. both who were still pro-trevor, and made it known to you how much damage you had caused the ‘sweet boy’ whenever they had a chance. not that you could blame them though, you knew how much you hurt him. you just knew staying with him would hurt you even worse.
the star ducks player was right on schedule as he began his trek across bedford to the grocery store. waving as he drove past charlie henderson, an old friend from elementary school, having no idea that he was on his way to pick you up for a date. the blond waved back almost instantly, smiling two times as wide for two different reasons. the first being he was on his way to your house and not trevor, something he would have never dreamed of in a million years. the second was because it was trevor fucking zegras waving at him, and to be honest, he was surprised trevor even remembered he existed. 
by the time charlie pulled into your half-circle driveway, he was a total of twenty minutes late. not to mention that when he arrived he didn’t run up to the door and eagerly knock with a bright smile on his face. instead, he chose a more twenty-first-century approach with a ‘here’ text message on snapchat. what remained of the butterflies you once had in your stomach had officially died with that. sighing you pushed yourself off the couch and walked towards the entryway, “um charlie’s here so i’m gonna go. i’ll see you guys tomorrow?” 
a disappointed look painted your mother’s face, while your father began to shake his head. muttering something into your mother’s ear so you didn’t overhear him. however, as you walked out the door you did hear the comment your mother threw out, “trevor never showed up late. he always came to the door.” her words were sharp and cut deep into your heart. suddenly something that seemed to be going so well was going so terribly wrong. 
it was pure luck, rather an unfortunate circumstance, that as trevor was walking out of the grocery store as you and charlie were stuck at the red right in front of the store’s parking lot. even hundreds of yards away trevor could make out your h/c curled as your head rested against the window. in an instant, trevor’s semi-decent mood had shifted to one of pure heart-shattering agony. had he been thinking straight he would’ve remembered you only leaned your head against the car window when you wanted to go, only he was currently thinking of the closest bar as the ten minutes drive back home seemed too far of a wait for him. 
you saw him as soon as charlie rolled the car to a stop. he hadn’t seen you yet, head tucked down looking at the blacktop and his rainbow flip-flops. until by some stroke of luck, perhaps unfortunate circumstances, he looked up and saw you. his green eyes tripled in size as he stared at you and you knew it was because you were in the car with a guy who wasn’t him. your knees were already pointed towards the car door, only now they were touching the plastic interior. this had to have been a sign - seeing trevor. you wanted to curl up into yourself as you waited for what seemed like forever at this light. praying that trevor couldn’t see the way you were staring right back at him, longing to be stuck at this red light with him instead of charlie, yet you wouldn’t admit that to anybody but yourself. 
as the light turned green three things happened to three different people. 
trevor dropped his reusable bags full of groceries and ran to his car. desperate to drown his pain with the company of the strangers who filled his hometown.
y/n watched with a subtle pang in her chest, feeling as if she broke his heart all over again. tears pricked her waterline as she drove away from the scene with a man she no longer wanted to be with. 
and charlie continued to ramble aimlessly on about how he is the president of a frat at u-maine. completely obviously to the hurt, the two former lovers were going through. instead when he caught the sight of the bright yellowish-orange bronco he cut his ramblings off to say, “hey! i saw trevor on my way to pick you up. ya know, he even waved to me. i had no idea he still knew who i was. i mean he’s a bigshot nhl player now. probably pulling instagram models - girls that are way out of his league. then again he probably learned how to do that from you, right y/n/n?” 
a shaky breath left your mouth as you turned away from the window for the first time since you got in the car. “excuse me?” you huffed, arms crossing over your chest as your eyes narrowed at him. “are you implying trevor’s out of my league, charlie?” 
with a fight breaking out on a first date in the silver honda accord, an internal war was raging in the confines of the yellow bronco. with heaving breaths trevor began to pull at his hair. “she’s on a date. y/n’s on a date with charlie henderson? there’s- there’s.” his words were cut off as he began to slam his hands down against the steering wheel. trying to prevent the tears that were collecting on his lashes from falling. “fuck!” he screamed, voice rattling the glass of his windows as he did so. 
“what?! no! no-” sighing charlie shrugged his shoulders while barely glancing over at you. “i mean yeah, everyone thought so, y/n. it was only a matter of time until he broke up with you, so when news traveled back that you broke up with him. nobody believed it. i mean come on y/n/n, trevor was always going to end up in the nhl, and you’re what, going to be a kid’s doctor? yeah i dunno, like i said it was only a matter of time.” 
trevor clenched his fist before he reached forward with shaking hands to his steering wheel. starting the car and backing out as fast as he could. making sure he went in the complete opposite direction of the silver honda that you sat in, not able to bear it if he saw the two of you at the bar while he tried to drink his pain away. 
the tears fell faster than you could stop them as you stared over at him in awe. he had managed to hit every single one of your insecurities from dating trevor right on the head, and threw them back in your face like you were nothing. with trevor splitting time between the gulls in san diego and the ducks in anaheim a war had begun to grow between your head and your heart. thinking about how he could spend all of his free time with a new instagram model every night, but you knew he wouldn’t do that. not when the both of you had talked about marriage and starting a family for hours on end. only as time went on, and the bigger trevor started to get, you felt as if you were slowly falling into the shadows of his life. then there was the fact you felt as if your career wasn’t enough for him, or for your future. self-doubt was a powerful demon, working its magic to make you believe as soon as trevor was a full-time nhl player he would force you to abandon your studies for your future career and turn into a full-time nhl girlfriend who sat there and looked pretty. so by thanksgiving you had made up your mind to end things with the then nineteen-year-old. forcing yourself to slowly fall out of love with him. something you were still forcing yourself to do even after all this time. 
as soon as trevor pulled into the little dive bar a couple miles outside of town he was reaching for his phone. he scrolled through his messages for the one person who wouldn’t ask him any questions as to why he disappeared and never returned with the groceries. double clicking on the picture of his brother and him from a wrestling meet - three years ago in december - he typed out a frantic message before turning his phone off and walking into the bar:
something came up.  couldn’t get the groceries home. they’re laying in the middle of the parking lotor i’ll venmo you $200 and you can buy more
griffin zegras, while being the younger brother he loved just as hard as his older brother, and was even wiser than the eldest zegras sibling. so when he got the message from his older brother he knew right away that you came up. while he didn’t know what had exactly happened, he had a suspicion that it was something pretty drastic for trevor to drop the groceries in the middle of a parking lot and rush away to an undisclosed location. sighing he liked the message before walking towards the door, “come on av, we gotta go get the groceries.” 
an angered laugh fell past your lips as you glared over at the boy. “it was only a matter of time?” shaking your head you looked down at your phone to see that it had only taken fifteen minutes for the date to get completely blown to shit. “you know charles, i’m starting to remember why i never was interested in you during high school,” you started to explain, wiping the tears from your eyes. “because you’re a selfish asshole who gets off on the downfalls of other people, so i think it’s time you take me home.” 
“i need the strongest drink you have,” was the first thing out of trevor’s mouth as he threw himself down on the bar stool. the hood of his sweatshirt pulled over his head in an attempt to blend in with the crowd so nobody realized it was him ‘trevor zegras center for the anaheim ducks’ when all he wanted to be was ‘drunk guy at the bar number two.’ 
charlie stared over at you with a look of complete disbelief, nobody had ever called him out on his bullshit before tonight. why would they when he could just buy his friend's company with all the money his parents make? his shocked expression remained etched across his face as he pulled into a dunkin parking lot to turn around. even more shocked that he was following through with your wishes of going home when he had waited years for the opportunity to go out with you. yet here he was, giving in to you without any protest, because deep down he knew you were right. he just wasn’t willing to openly admit it. 
within the first five minutes of sitting at the bar counter, trevor had managed to completely down the moscow mule which was placed in front of him, as well as three shots of vodka. with his vision toeing the line of fuzzy and seeing straight he backed off the hard alcohol and ordered a bud light. with his buzz well in place, he knew he’d be okay to sip on a beer as you were a distant thought in his alcohol-clouded head. 
“oh hi honey, you’re back early.” the sound of your mother's voice was next to one of the last things you wanted to hear as you slowly shut the front door behind you. originally hoping that you could sneak back in without facing the questions as to why you were home. yet your parents' movie night completely ruined that plan. taking a deep breath you walked into the open space, and the scene of seeing your parents happily cuddled up together, how to lose a guy in 10 days on tv, caused you to turn into a sobbing mess. because all you could think of at that moment was how you wanted your future to look exactly like this with one certain person: trevor. 
charlie watched as you walked in your front door, and as soon as it was closed he was speeding out of the half-circle driveway towards his sanctuary: the bar. more specifically the bar that trevor was currently holed up in, but neither of them knew this. instead, both of them were both stuck in their thoughts on how to drink enough to get you off their minds. 
when you had left for your date with charlie, someone whom both of your parents didn’t think was right for you, they agreed to not say another word on the matter to you. meaning they weren’t going to bring up trevor unless you did. all they wanted was for you to be happy, and if this so-called charles henderson fellow, umaine frat president, could make you happy, then that was all they cared about. so they went along with their nightly plans of watching a rom-com, drinking a bottle of wine, and falling asleep on the couch just like they did in their first year of marriage. just as andie was about to ask ben for another diet coke at the knicks game, you opened the front door. reaching forward, your mother set down her wine glass and paused the movie before turning to look back at you, “oh hi honey, you’re back early.” your father squeezed her hand that he was holding as they both watched the tears begin to fall down your cheeks, simultaneously breaking their hearts. “sweetie what happened? you haven’t cried over a boy since tr-” immediately she caught herself by clearing her throat and restarted. “oh honey, come here.” 
time had seemingly stopped for trevor. was this his first beer or his third? he couldn’t remember anymore. while he had started as casually sipping, he soon began to finish them faster than intended as he realized he had nothing to keep him occupied other than the bottle in his hands. with his phone turned off and stashed away in his pocket, not wanting his family or the boys to have his location pinging at a bar, he was completely alone. normally when he did this at home he had the company of a friend over a facetime call. every night it bounced around from person to person. when he wanted someone to help him reflect on the past with you it was spencer, as he was the resident third wheel of your relationship, having grown across the state line separating new york and connecticut with you. on the nights he didn’t want to talk or think about you at all, like tonight, he would call jamie since he never had the chance to meet you. jamie also missed out on the man trevor was before the breakup. while he was still charming, he would change from charming to alarming in seconds, jamie always had to walk on thin glass. nights where he just wanted comfort it was griffin, as there was nothing better than brotherly love, and someone able to hold you while you fall apart. except for tonight, trevor had nobody. he was completely and utterly alone with nobody he knew: until the front door opened and in walked charlie henderson.
sniffling, you wiped away the tears that clung to your jawline before offering your parents a small smile, “can i crash date night after i change?” instantly your mother was nodding her head, your father smiling over at you softly. this gives you the chance to run up to your room and change into the only piece of clothing that could give you comfort when you heart this bad, trevor’s boston university hockey sweatshirt. the last team issued one he got before the covid pandemic shut down his college career and he signed with the ducks. when you wore the gray sweatshirt it felt like he was right there with you. holding you close and promising you everything was going to work out for the better. his scent had long faded, but the idea of it being his was what grounded you. so much so that you were reaching for your phone and his contact. 
trevor’s once relaxed body had now become rigid at the sound of charlie’s smooth voice. he was too afraid to dare to look over and risk seeing you hanging off his arm, so instead he ordered another beer and turned so his back was completely towards his former classmate. he hadn’t understood why you agreed to go out on a date with charlie henderson. in high school, he was nothing but sleazy. flaunting his parents' money around to gain the attention of girls, and the friendship of the boys in your grade. sure he was good-looking, but trevor was certain there wasn’t a single brain cell behind those dull, lifeless eyes. when he went away to avon trevor would hear all about the charlie stories through you. how you would roll your eyes every time he tried to make a move on you, always pointing out that you and trevor were still very much together. so it bewildered him that you were currently on a date with charlie ‘frat president’ henderson. then again, people change and maybe charlie had. trevor knew that he had changed for the worse, maybe charlie had changed for the better. and who was he to judge you for your choices? he didn’t even know you anymore. 
tears stung your eyes as you stared down at the contact that no longer had a name, but you would know the phone number despite the missing name, even if there was still a random selfie trevor had taken as the contact photo. why you had kept the photo but erased his name made no sense to you back then, and even less now, but that’s not what you were worried about. instead, you were worried about how your hands were shaking as your finger ghosted over the call button. your heart was beating so hard against your rib cage it was starting to hurt. you couldn’t call him, not after all this time. not after ripping his heart out and throwing it on the ground to stomp on it, all while you were still madly in love with him. you couldn’t. yet, you did. 
if trevor’s phone had been on he would’ve felt it buzz in his pocket. he would’ve set his bud light down and pulled out his phone instead. the four-year-old picture would’ve flashed across his screen, your name lighting it up at the top. tears would’ve formed in his eyes as he stared down at the eighteen-year-old versions of yourselves before swiping the answer call across his screen. he would feel charlie henderson’s eyes on him as he let out a breath with one thing leaving his lips, “y/n/n.” 
only trevor’s phone didn’t buzz, and your call would be missed as he took another sip of his beer. he was trying his hardest to tone out charlie’s voice which seemed to get louder and louder by the second as if he was trying to get under trevor’s skin. like he knew it was him sitting four stools down from him, and he knew just how to hit the twenty-two-year-old right where it hurt and choose to punch a man while he was down. he had started to bring up you. 
the moment charlie walked into the bar he had known it was trevor perched up at the counter. at first, he told himself if he was just going to leave it alone, pretend he didn’t see him like every other person in the bar, and go on with his night. drinking little fruity cocktails while he joked around with his friends to get his mind off you and the date that was a disaster. he was fine doing that until one of his dorky tag-a-long friends didn’t get the memo that they weren’t supposed to bring up the fact he wasn’t supposed to be here and said, “aren’t you supposed to be out with y/n l/n right now?” while he could’ve chosen the easy road of telling the truth, one that would shatter his ego and imagine amongst his friends, he began to see red and chose the complete opposite. he chose violence.
“hey, it’s z! sorry i can’t get to the phone right now, i’ll give ya a call when i can!” the voicemail recording caused the sinking feeling in your heart to grow even larger. sniffling you hit the big red end button as the woman's voice explained the steps of leaving a voicemail. you knew you shouldn’t have called, and that trevor not answering wasn’t a surprise to you. running a hand through your curls you slipped the phone into the pocket of his sweatshirt, pulled on a pair of shorts, and walked downstairs to meet your parents. “i’ll make more popcorn if you guys pour me a glass?” 
“yeah i was, but she was just so boring,” charlie drawled, trying to think of more lies he could say to cover for himself. “y/n l/n isn't interesting in the slightest. i really don’t get what people see in her.” as his friends kept laughing the smile on his face grew more and more. fuelling the fire that now burned inside of him. nobody called charles j. henderson out on his bullshit and got away with it. 
at first, trevor thought he was hallucinating hearing your name come out of charlie’s mouth. because there was no way charlie henderson called you, y/n m/n l/n, boring and uninteresting. so much to the point that he had to end the date twenty minutes after it started. “yeah, you don’t even understand. she was like, fake sobbing because i told her i couldn’t do it. like i’m sorry, i don’t want to spend my night with a girl who’s clearly a four.” finishing his drink he threw three twenty dollar bills down before turning in his seat to look down the bar at charlie. his blood was already boiling, yet he was still waiting for the prime opportunity to pounce on the scumbag. 
with a fresh bowl of popcorn resting on the coffee table, and three full glasses of wine surrounding it, you were finally ready to settle down on the couch with your parents to watch the movie. “we restarted it for you, honey. we know how much you like this movie,” your dad said while smiling over at you. taking note of the way you clung to the sweatshirt that was on your frame. he pressed play and you let out a blissful sigh, staring at the opening credits and thinking about how for the next hour and a half, you’d be starting at a young matthew mcconaughey who you thought looked uncannily like trevor in this movie. trying to completely forget about the fact he had sent you to voicemail. 
“i don’t think y/n’s a four,” one of charlie’s cronies replied sheepishly, pushing the salt around the rim of his margarita. “she’s like, one of the hottest girls i’ve ever seen! and i mean, she pulled trevor zegras.” charlie cringed at the thought of you and trevor happily together. all he wanted was a chance with you, and the one time he got that chance it was ruined by some stupid nhl player who didn’t even graduate college. meanwhile, he had graduated and on top of that, he did it while organizing frat party after frat party. what did trevor do? nothing! he left you up for grabs three different times because of hockey. in his opinion it was time you dumped him, even if he was out of your league, so you could settle down with somebody more like him. seeing how displeased charlie had grown with his comments in defense of you, matt the cronie, frowned before changing his tune about you. “yeah you’re right, char, she is a four. a total four! i mean, what did zegras even see in her, to begin with? probably only stuck with her because she was too ugly to cheat on him, and wouldn’t feel bad cheating on her when he left for hockey.” 
if the words charlie’s friends were spewing about you weren’t enough to get his blood boiling, then the way charlie’s lips curled up into an evil smile was. he rushed off of his stool and stomped his way over to the group, a scowl on his face as he watched all of them but charlie stare at him in awe. he was still a famous nhl player after all. “don’t you fucking idiots dare let y/n’s name leave your mouth again, or i swear to god i’ll kill you. all of you. she’s too pure-hearted and too good of a person for you to be dragging her name in the dirt. she’s the type of beautiful where you’re lucky to be in her presence. inside and out.” his nostrils flared as he heaved out every word laced with anger. “and you,” he seethed turning his full attention to charlie, “consider yourself fucking lucky someone as incredible as y/n agreed to go on a date with a self-absorbed egotistical asshole like yourself. you’re calling her uninteresting? the only thing you have to show for yourself is the fact you were a frat president at umaine, nobody gives a shit dude!” 
even with your attention on the movie you could feel the way your mother kept glancing over at you. you were an open book to her. you knew it was only a matter of time until she said you could talk to her, or asked about trevor’s sweatshirt. and as if almost on cue she leaned over to whisper into your ear. “do you want to talk about it, sweetie? it has to have been pretty bad if you’re wearing trevor’s sweatshirt. you only do that when you’re really upset.” shrugging your shoulders you reached forward and grabbed your glass of wine. praying that taking a sip would end her pestering. she ran a hand through your hair and pressed a kiss against your forehead, “whenever you’re ready, i’m ready.” only you didn’t think you’d be ready to talk about the events of this night for a long time. not until you at least figured it out for yourself, and you weren’t sure if you’d ever figure it out for yourself. 
the cronies were stifling back their laughter as they listened to trevor tear into their group's leader. only the laughter came to a halt as chalire jumped out of his barstool to stand chest to chest with the six-foot-even nhl forward. “think you’re a big man now that you’re in the nhl z?” charlie asked with a taunting tone, head tilted to the side as he just barely stared down at the hockey player. “well you’re not, dumbass. i mean look at you, you’re getting blackout drunk in a bar over your ex-girlfriend who broke up with you three years ago. you’re pathetic. just like y/n’s little dream of being a doctor.” matt and nate let out a chorus of ‘ooh’s’ like the group was still in high school, right away beginning to make small comments to each other. “maybe you guys did deserve each other, could’ve been pathetic together.” 
that’s when the first punch was thrown. 
“i tried calling him,” you whispered out only for your mother to hear. because you knew if your father heard it would be over. his hopes would get too high, and he would fly too close to the sun thinking he was about to get his best friend back. even your mother perked up hearing that you had called him. “but he didn’t answer,” you added, e/c eyes completely focused on the screen in front of you. “it’s probably for the best that he didn’t answer. i can’t blame him.” you were sniffling before burying your head in your mother’s chest. fighting back the tears as you snuggled closer to her. wondering why you had let your anxiety and the possibility of trevor and your relationship turning toxic steer you away from the only person you’d ever love.
your father listened from the other side of your mother, a frown overtaking his features while he sunk into the couch. he couldn’t help but feel as if all of this heartbreak had been his fault. he was the reason you and trevor had met in the first place. (the reason you had met spencer too but that’s beside the point right now). on the side of his day job as a pediatrician, he coached a local youth hockey team. while you played on the girl's team, your dad thought it would be best to avoid the whole politics of ‘parent coaches’ and stuck to the boys and that’s how he met trevor and spencer. you met at an outdoor jamboree at the ripe age of five, and since then you had been inseparable. it was only a matter of time until you and trevor ended up together, and nobody was happier about that than your father. trevor was the son he never knew he wanted. he just fit in with your family, with your lives. so when you came back inside that december night crying, saying you had broken up, poor d/n l/n felt like it was all his fault two of his favorite people in the world were crushed as badly and as deeply as they were. he still couldn’t forgive himself. 
trevor had swung at charlie first. his right fist splitting his lip in half. the blood coated his knuckles and the tiled floor. as he watched charlie stumble backward he turned his attention to matt first. “you know matt, i was going to spare you, but then you had to go and change your tune just for a couple of hundred bucks,” he slurred with a smirk on his face, “so i gotta do what i gotta do, i hope you can respect that man.” he didn’t give the boy chance to answer before he threw another heavy right hook. this time breaking the matt’s nose. the crunch of the cartilage breaking could be heard throughout the whole bar, and that’s what gained the attention of every bar-goer. trevor had sealed his fate as soon as the first punch was thrown.
the onlookers in the bar couldn’t believe what was happening in front of them. it wasn’t every day that a true bar fight broke out, and it certainly wasn’t every day that it was an nhl player took part in it. barry, the regular bartender, figured it would sort itself out. a couple of punches would be thrown and then the group would separate and there would be nothing to worry about. it would be a done deal. only that wasn’t what happened in this case. charlie henderson, after picking himself up off the counter, lunged forward and socked trevor right in the temple. laying it on thick enough to give the star player a black eye for a couple of days, maybe even a week. when trevor lunged forward and tackled the entitled prick to the grimy floor is when poor barry had to make the phone call to the police, seeing as matt and nate were doing absolutely nothing to help their friend, and trevor wasn’t stopping anytime soon. 
“sweetheart,” your mother cooed while running a hand up and down your back. “just give trevor a little time. you haven’t talked in nearly three years, he’s probably scared to hear from you considering the last time you saw each other…” as she trailed off you nodded along with what she was saying. she made a valid argument in trevor’s defense. if you were in his shoes, you wouldn’t answer you on the first phone call either. you asked him to completely forget you existed, so he had to have been fairly confused about why you were even trying to call him. you had never attempted to reach out to him before, but what he didn’t know is that you still kept tabs on him. asked spencer and your parents about him, sometimes even reaching out to jack if an opportunity presented itself to you. you still followed him on instagram to see what he was up to, but never liking any posts so he wouldn’t know. (he knew. he checked his following once a month to see if your name was still amongst the sea of random people he didn’t care about). you still cared about him and loved him, but he just didn’t know it, so you figured it was time to change that. if only he had answered the call. 
trevor’s knuckles burned with every punch he threw, pulling them as he knew he couldn’t beat this kid to a bloody pulp. although, if you looked at his split knuckles you would think that he had. the blood from charlie’s split lip and broken nose had coated his own on his cracked open knuckles. leaning over the man trevor tried to catch his breath before throwing one more threat his way. “don’t you ever fucking talk about y/n again. if i find out you did, i won’t be so gentle next time.” carefully he pulled himself off charlie before leaning back against a barstool, a bad decision on his part because the next thing he knew charlie was barking orders at matt and nate when he clearly should’ve sought medical attention for his broken nose.
within an instant the two cowards were pinning him down to the blood-filled floor as charlie leaned over with a nasty grin, blood dripping down to the tiles next to his dirty blond hair. 
“you’re going to wish you never threw that punch when i’m done with you, big z. cause you see, i have nothing to lose unlike you.” and with that charlie drilled him in the left side of his head, making sure that his black eye wasn’t going away for a long period of time. 
shrugging your shoulder’s you nodded, a defeated sigh leaving your lips. “yeah, i wouldn’t have answered me either,” you mumbled, curling yourself into the other end of the couch. beginning to nurse the glass of wine you were about to refill. eyes refocusing on the screen in front of you as ben and andie sat at a couple’s counselor. it was a cruel joke in your eyes now, that if you had thought of going to therapy by yourself or with trevor maybe none of this would’ve happened. maybe he’d be with you right now, cuddled up on the love seat throwing popcorn at each other while your parents looked on in awe of you. but you know what they say, dreams are for rookies. 
with each punch charlie landed on trevor’s face he felt his ego rise once more through his body. there was no doubt his left hook had broken trevor’s nose, blood having immediately started to gush from it. only that didn’t stop him. no, charlie was seeing red, while he may have been in the wrong he wasn’t going to let trevor off as easy he did him. no he wasn’t stopping until both eyes were black and blue, his nose was dislocated and resting against his left cheek, and his lips had cracks and split in them. he wanted trevor zegras to be unrecognizable when he was done with him, and he would’ve had his way if he hadn’t heard the sirens over the mood music in the bar. “oh fuck, that’s the cops!” charlie yelled, jumping off trevor. in the process, kneeing him right in the stomach. while it wasn’t intentional he couldn’t lie, he was happy it had happened. “nate, matt, we gotta get out of here. my dad still hasn’t paid my speeding tickets.” as they ran towards the front door it was pushed open by two middle-aged police officers. the ginger took in the scene in front of him, while the blond shook his head.
“nobody’s going anywhere. you’re all coming with us.” 
groaning out in agony trevor didn’t even try to pull himself off the floor. he was far too embarrassed by what had occurred to have the will to move. he was embarrassed about everything but defending your name. if you were still together and this had happened he knew you’d be giving him an ear full. telling him that your name isn’t as important as his reputation, and the status his name held. but ultimately you would cave, thanking him for defending you before the two of you fell asleep. now, he didn’t know what you would do when word got back to you. would you be mad at him? happy he stuck up for you? it would be a lie to say he didn’t care because he did. he had to know what you thought of the events that occurred. little did he know, but he would find out sooner rather than later what you thought of this little bar brawl.
“i’m going to grab the other bottle of red and make some nachos to go along with it. do either of my women need something while i’m up?” asked your father as he paused the movie, right as it was about to get good. classic dad move. your mother got up to accompany him, while you stayed rooted in your seat. finishing the glass in your hands. besides pausing movies at random times, your dad had always been a sweetheart. there was nothing more he wanted in life than to have a family, to have children. unfortunately for both your mother and father, you were the only child they were gifted with. it was a struggle to have you as your mother struggled with fertility issues, yet that didn’t damper either of their spirits, especially your fathers. during the day he thrived as a pediatrician that every parent wanted their child to go to. he had a gift when it came to children. and by night he was a resident youth hockey coach. but first and foremost he was a family man. there was nothing he wouldn’t do for either you or your mother. big or small, he was always the first person offering to help. he was the one who picked up your pieces after the breakup. he was your true confidant. he explained to you that at one point in their lives, your parents had broken up. your father was struggling to stay afloat in med school, and your mother was thriving at the bedford elementary school as a teacher. the distance, and the fact he felt he wasn’t enough for her, was enough for him to end their relationship. their break lasted almost a year until they reconnected in a hospital waiting room. it was because of your parents and your father practically doing the exact thing you did, that you even had the slightest hope you and trevor could rekindle your relationship. only, you were starting to realize, you should’ve called after year one, not year three.
“alright kid, time to get up,” the ginger officer drawled while leaning over to pick trevor up by his armpits. once he was up on his feet, the office turned trevor around and pressed him up against the bar counter, and pulled both of his hands behind his back. letting out a sigh trevor couldn’t help but shiver as the metal handcuffs were clasped around his wrists. he was soon pulled forward off the counter and was started towards the door, “you’re facing disorderly conduct. you have the right..” the officers' words trailed off in trevor’s head as he was brought back outside. the blond cop had charlie, matt, and nate huddled together on the hood of his car. he couldn’t quite make out what was being said, but it sounded as if charlie was trying to bribe the officer to not book them. the conversation was completely cut from trevor’s ear as his officer, officer collins, opened the back door, pushed his head down, and pushed him inside. as trevor stared up at him he could only think of one thing.
“wait!” he exclaimed as officer collins was about to shut the door, “my emergency phone call is y/n l/n.”
your mother came back into the room first giving you the perfect opportunity to ask. “mom, do you think there’s still a chance trevor and i end up together? i mean, like you and dad did?” she didn’t answer you, instead, she let out a sigh while leaning down and filling your glass of wine. you could tell that she was thinking of the right thing to say back to you, and that’s how you knew you most likely weren’t going to like the answer she had come up with. “you know mom, you actually don’t have to answer that. it’s silly of me to even think that we did have a chance to get back together. i blew it the moment i broke up with him in twenty-twenty.” while you were currently three glasses deep, starting your fourth, the buzz was beginning to hit you. since the breakup, red wine no longer made you horny as it once had while you were dating trevor, instead, it sent you in a downward spiral of your most inner ward thoughts. the downward spiral which was beginning to happen, yet you didn’t know how to make it stop before it got too bad. “i was so stupid to do that, break up with him. i thought we would end up in a toxic relationship. i thought we would end up hurting each other, so i chose to just hurt him instead. because while it hurt me to do, i got over it. i got over it faster than i should’ve, and every time i came home i wanted him again. i wanted us again, and this time i know i want him and only him forever.” taking a deep breath you looked up at your mother with tears forming in your eyes again, “so mom i do need to know, do you think there’s a chance me and trevor make it in the end?” 
officer collins shook his head while slamming the back door in trevor’s face. he stalled for a minute opening his notebook and grabbing his pen. quickly he scribbled down ‘y/n l/n’ before pocketing his notebook and pen and walking to the driver's door. he glanced in his side mirror to watch as officer shandy, the blond, shoved charlie henderson and the other two he didn’t know into the back of his car. he then switched his gaze to his rearview mirror to stare at trevor. he had his busted-up face pressed against his the glass window. he assumed that it was because the coolness of the glass felt good against his cut-up lips and bruised eyes. sighing he pulled his patrol car into gear and checked the mirror one more time before addressing trevor again. “don’t worry kid, we’ll get your face cleaned up then you can make your call.” 
“can i make the call first?” 
m/n l/n’s heart broke as she sat and listened to your ramblings. in a way she had felt guilty she was even hearing every word that you had begun to utter to her. of course she had thought about you and trevor getting back together multiple times. it was something she had thought of almost daily. but as time grew on she saw it becoming less and less likely of a happy outcome. she, of course, had known trevor would be more than willing to jump at an opportunity to get back together with you, it was you she was worried about. she figured as time grew on you would lose all your interest in the bedford native, so she was completely shocked to hear that you were still all in with trevor. “honey,” she sat back down next to you hands reaching forward and grabbing yours, “i think there’s a chance if you really want there to be.” she squeezed your hands before kissing the top of your head, “i wish i could discredit the words you had just said to me, but unfortunately i know that they hold nothing but the truth. but i do still believe that if you want to be with trevor then you'll find a way to end up with each other.”
“sure kid, you can make your call first if that’s what you really want.” officer collins answer had satisfied trevor to the point where he zoned out into his own little world for the remainder of the drive. by some stroke of fate, they were caught at the same red light charlie and you had been stuck at when trevor had seen you. he took it upon himself to look and see if someone had picked up his grocery bags, they had, griffin and ava having found them right away. his attention was then turned to the traffic lights that seemed to be speaking to him.
“will it be alright?” he asked, whether he spoke it out loud or if it was just in his head he got an answer regardless. as the light turned from red to green it spoke out with a defeated, “i don’t know.”
tears carved their way down your cheeks, leaving what you thought would be a permanent trail as you clung to the little bit of hope your mother’s words gave you. you cradled the wine glass close to your face, watching as your tears fell into the sea of red alcohol, trying to stop yourself from thinking about what your life would look like now if you had never broken up with trevor. thinking how you could be with him doing god knows what. maybe getting in a little trouble, maybe just spending the night in the back of his god-awfully colored bronco at the old lookout point. how he’d be busy cracking jokes, teasing you to no end, all while you playfully would shove his chest before grabbing his chain and pulling him in for another kiss. not stopping until your already swollen lips looked as if you were both stung by bees. instead, you were met with the cruel reality of not having a single clue where trevor was, or what he was doing. you were left alone with your thoughts about when things seemed as if they were never going to end and there was stuck with you: how did you ever think trevor zegras would turn out as a toxic person? 
if officer collins had been speaking to him, trevor wouldn’t have had a single clue as to what he was saying. the entire ride to the police station he was busy listening to the in-and-out crackling of the transmitter radio connected to the patrol car. he wasn’t listening to what the dispatcher was saying about situations that need police assistance, or even what the officers were saying in response to these calls. no, he was too busy listening to the static of the transmitter radio as it brought him some sort of weird comforting feeling in his drunken state. taking a deep breath to the beat of the static he sunk into the backseat, head still pressed against the glass staining it with blood and the lingering alcohol on his breath. the static helped lull him into a dreaming dazed state. one where he still had you. in his daydream, you were sitting on his lap as you and all of your friends were huddled around a fire at the hughes lake house. you had just spent the entire day wake surfing and tubing, and now you were sitting around the fire with newly sunkissed skin. the residue of s’more’s gracing the corners of both yours and trevor’s lips. you would be starting to fall asleep in his arms, lazily smiling and laughing at something cole had said before staring back up at trevor as his eyes would’ve already been on you. he was convinced that if you ever got back together his eyes would never leave you in fear of losing you again, so that’s how he pictured it. you falling asleep while staring up at him. surrounded by all of your friends, completely and utterly in love with each other. the sound of a page for officers interrupted the beauty of the transmitter radio static, as well as the daydream trevor, was lost in. groaning he smacked his head back against the headrest, starting the vicious self-loathing cycle he ended up when drunk - hating that he didn’t even know what he did wrong to have lost you. 
“how did i ever think trevor would end up as a toxic person?” 
before he knew it, officer collins was pulling open the back door again and greeted him with a tight-lipped smile. “alright kid let’s get this all over with.” sighing trevor barely nodded his head as collins pulled him out of the car, and slammed the door behind him once again. trevor kept his head down as he was led into the police station. praying that somehow, this would all work out where his name didn’t end up on page six of the local newspaper, and things wouldn’t reach the executive offices of the ducks. part of him knew it wouldn’t, not when charlie henderson couldn’t jeopardize himself or his last name either. yet as officer collins worked on taking his fingerprints he couldn’t help but begin to worry. about what you would think when you read about the charges in the local paper. what your parents would think, would they still like him? what his parents and family would say. he could already hear griffin’s voice saying ‘are you fucking stupid?’ but he was currently stuck on wondering what the ducks would say about all of this. what twitter would say, because sooner or later his entire life always ended up on twitter, it was always just a matter of time. somewhere in his train of thought, he was handed a plaque reading his name and the date for his mug shot, still clinging on to the piece of hope that all of this would get blown over as soon as charlie and his friends were brought in. he turned to the sides when told, hands tightly holding on to the black plastic in his hands. waiting patiently for his next instructions. until it happened, and he felt his heart race within the confines of his rib cage. 
“alright kid, you can go make your phone call now.” 
your mother seemed stunned at the question, you have completely caught her off guard once more. she remained silent as you tried to choke back the sobs that were about to resurface from earlier. remembering he hadn’t answered your phone call, wondering why you had felt like you weren’t enough for him, why you thought he would force you away from your dreams when he was the one who pushed you and supported you to try and accomplish them. (which you had since done. having graduated from boston college and were currently in the process of deciding which university to complete medical school at). you had helped save him countless of times before, no matter how drastic the measures you were there for him, and he was there for you. yet in your greatest time of need, when you needed him the most, you refused to open up enough to him to allow him to help combat your self-doubt and took the easy way out instead. “you lost your way for a little while, honey,” your mother finally spoke with ease to her words. trying her hardest to make you believe what she was saying. “you lost your way and lost sight of what was truly important to you other than your degree and med school, and that’s completely okay. you’re human - shit happens. you live and you learn. you lost sight of the person you loved because you were starting to lose yourself, but you’ve found your way back. it’ll all work itself out. eventually.” you threw yourself into your mother's arms, holding on to her for dear life. 
as your father walked back into the living room (trying his hardest to act as if he hadn't heard the entirety of your conversation) he couldn’t help but smile at the scene in front of him. happy you were finally allowing yourself to grieve with the loss of trevor and yours relationship, and that you were trusting your mother with this information. finally trusting in yourself to come to terms with the fact you needed and wanted trevor in your life because you loved him deeply. he kissed the top of both yours and your mother’s head before taking his rightful seat again. just in time for the sound of a phone ringing to interrupt the tender moment being shared. 
confused you pulled away from your mother's loving arms and fished your phone from the front pocket of your sweatshirt. confusion etched deeper in your face as the number popped up with a small caller id under it. licking your lips you looked at both of your parents as your heart started to race inside your chest, “it’s the police department.”
officer collins was nice enough to remove trevor’s handcuffs in order to make the call. so with shaky hands, trevor reached forward to the landline in a dimly light hallway. taking a deep breath in, he closed his eyes and punched in your phone number from memory. he could feel the tears prick at his waterline as he waited for you to pick up the phone. the dial tone rang loud in his ears until finally, it didn’t. and for the first time in three years, he heard the sound of your breathing. the silence was deafening as he waited for you to speak, desperate to hear your voice. then there it was: “hello?” 
after watching your parents shrug their shoulders you made the split decision to answer the call. you were met with the sound of breathing on the other line, mind racing as to who could possibly be calling you from the police station at this time of night. when the person on the other end of the line hadn’t spoken you took it upon yourself to. “hello?” you asked with uncertainty in your voice, and just by the sound of their sigh of relief you knew who it was instantly. “t-trevor?” it came out it in a choked back whisper, your mind not able to process the fact he was most likely in jail. “what, why are you calling me from the police station?” 
he could hear the panic in your voice through the phone, green eyes closing so he could picture what you looked like right now. the look of fear on your face from getting a call from an unknown number and it’s him. “uh, h-hi, y/n/n,” he slurred, tears slipping out of his closed eyes because he couldn’t believe it. you were on the phone with him. you were talking to him. this was real. 
this was real. for both of you. trevor was in the police station. he’d been arrested and he had chosen to call you. 
your heart dropped into your stomach as you felt anger rise through your body, yet you weren’t quite sure why. maybe it was because he had been arrested. maybe it was because the first time you’d heard from him in years was because he was calling you to come and bail him out. but at the same time, you tried to remain calm. preparing yourself for whatever it was that he was about to tell you. “so um, i’m sure you’re probably wondering what i’m doing calling you from the police station’s number.” he tried to force out a laugh, but next to nothing came out. and you could tell he was nervously waiting for your reaction.
“i mean it’s not every day you get a call from your ex-boyfriend.” your words had cut him deep. ‘ex-boyfriend’. he bit his lip in order to prevent a whimper from escaping his mouth at the dreaded word. “but then again, it isn’t every day you get a call from your ex-boyfriend who’s in jail, so yeah trev, i am wondering why you're calling me from the police station.” while your words had seemed bitter, your tone was nothing but soothing to him. he could tell you were currently trying to hold yourself together from the number of mixed emotions that had to have been coursing through your body. he also knew you meant no harm because you had called him ‘trev’. if you had called him anything other than that he knew you were over this. over him. over the phone call. over being his lifeline still after all this time. so with a small hopeful smile on his face, he started to make his case to you. 
squeezing your mother’s hand you braced for the explanation you were bound to hear. mind racing, and emotions swirling around like a tornado in your body. “i saw you,” he whispered, voice breaking as he spoke. you didn’t need to hear what he said next to know he saw you at the stoplight with charlie, moments before your desaster of a date ended. “at the lights with charlie fucking henderson of all people!” that caused your blood to begin boiling. while his opinion of charlie was accurate, it still irked you that he had to make it known he disapproved. you weren’t his anymore. you didn’t owe him any reasoning on why you went out with charlie. on why you were allowing yourself to settle for him when all you wanted was trevor, but you couldn’t tell him that. you couldn’t allow yourself to give him that satisfaction when he was rotting in a jail cell with the other drunks that had been brought in for the night. “and it just, it ruined me, y/n/n. it ruins me, destroies me, sending me into a crippling to depression to see you when i come home every summer. to see you happy, without me. to see that our relationship must have meant nothing for you to just let me go like that. without a fucking reason as to why!” you didn’t know how much more you could take of his drunken ramblings, because hearing the truth come from his lips was something you never wanted to hear. you knew you hurt him, ripped his heart out and stabbed him in the back, but you never wanted to hear him say that. to hear what it felt like for him to come home and see you. “because i still love you, y/n/n. i love you more than anything in this world. so much so that i got into a bar fight with charlie to defend you against everything him and his friends were saying about you. so much that i’m calling you from jail. i love you so much that i can’t be in bedford anymore, and if i am here i have to drink away any and all thoughts of you because i promised to forget you when you broke up with me.” 
trevor sat on the other end of the line, slumping against the white paint cracked walls. awaiting an answer from you after he had just poured his heart and soul out to you. he could hear his heartbeat ringing in his ears. felt the watchful eyes of officer collins, and now officer shandy, watching and listening to what could either break his heart all over again, or bring it back to life. 
“y/n?” he whispered out into your ear. “are you - are you still there?” the worry in his voice was evident, he thought he was about to lose you all over again, and you could feel yourself slipping away from him once more. closing your eyes you fought with the tears, your head, and your heart as you pulled the phone away from your ear. “i’m sorry, i know that it’s a lot to take in. and you didn’t ask for any of this. or want any part of me any-” his voice was cut off by the sound the sound the dial tone. your finger having pressed the red button to end his drunken pleas with you. every thought you had about wanting to with him still tonight fluttering out the window, because a villain isn’t supposed to show remorse to those they hurt, they just keep hurting them. 
the hockey player jumped up from his seated position as the dial tone filled his ears again. “no! no, no, no, no, no. y/n, baby please. please!” he all but screamed into the phone that no longer had a caller on it. officer collins and shandy both began moving closer to him, seeing this as a potential threat to himself. “fuck!” he all but raged as he slammed the black plastic back into its holder. then crumpling down into the floor. head between his knees as he sobbed to himself over losing you once again. 
“y/n, why did you hang up on him,” your mother exclaimed. shocked that you had done what you just had after pouring your heart and soul out to her about how you still loved the twenty-two-year-old, and wanted to be with him again. “what about what you told me tonight? he still loves you!” 
shaking your head you pushed yourself off the couch, reaching down for the new bottle of wine before making your way to the stairs. “and i love him,” you finally whispered out loud to both your parents. your e/c eyes stayed glued to the stairs as you tried to work yourself off the ledge you found your self towering on. “but i can’t love him when he’s like this, so i have to be the bad guy, because i can’t save him from himself this time.” you knew it was the truth, but still you couldn’t help but feel like you were lying to yourself. you were the one who caused this pain, this anguish for trevor, and it was only you who could save him from it. but you refused. so you walked up to your room, locking yourself in there with the full bottle of wine, taking a page out of trevor’s book and trying to drink any thought of him away.
officer collins crouched down in front of trevor and place a comforting hand on his shoulder. “look kid, i’m really sorry she hung up on you,” he started to say with a sullen look on his face, “it wasn’t right of her to do that. not when you clearly still need her in your life, but unfortunately there’s nothing else we can do. we gotta put you in the holding cell until henderson finishes up, and then this will all go away. i promise. nobody will ever know.” 
trevor’s head shot up to look at the middle aged man leaning over him. his head shaking vigorously to disagree with what he was saying. in an instant he was resting on his knees, clutching his hands together as he stared up at him. “i beg you, sir, just let me call.” his voice was filled with a pleading note as he stared up at officer collins, praying he could get through to him. “i’ll give you my blood alcohol, i’ll rot with all the burnouts in the cell,” he began to list while tears clung to his eyelashes. “i’ll change my faith, and and i’ll praise the flag!” he exclaimed, “let’s wait, i swear she’ll call me back.” 
the oldest man in the hallway let out a sad sigh before glancing to his partner, then back down at trevor. “son, are you a danger to yourself?” he hated asking that question, but trevor was starting to scare him. he needed to know how concerned he should be regarding this situation. 
anger flashed through trevor’s green eyes after the question was asked, and as it hung in the silence of the hallway he pushed himself up off the floor. shrugging away officer collins hands he scoffed, “fuck that, sir, just let me call.” the pleading look on his face was slowly starting to slip away into something almost nobody could read. “i’ll give you my blood alcohol. i’ll rot with all the burnouts in the cell. change my faith, and i’ll kiss the badge. please, let’s wait. i swear she’ll call me back.” this time he reached out forward and grabbed officer collins hands, begging with everything he had left in him. trying his hardest to flash what he considered his puppy dog eyes, and appeal to this mans better nature.
officer shandy stepped in next, his hand reaching for trevor’s shoulders and bringing his attention fully to him. trevor’s green eyes bored into his blue ones, and he could feel himself begin to crack under the honest weight the officers held. his charming demeanor falling as the questions was asked:
“son, why do you do this to yourself?” 
it hung in the air as trevor’s shoulders sagged, showing that he was defeated. he was only twenty-two after all. twenty-two but still in love with a woman who didn’t want him anymore, and he just couldn’t let go of you. silently he thought to himself, about there possibly being another reason as to why he allowed this all to happen besides him still being in love with you. that maybe he feared something more than having lost you. “i’m not proud of all the punches that i’ve thrown,” trevor mumbled out into the silence, to be heard by the awaiting ears of the officers. “in the name of someone i no longer know.” a small smile cracked his face when he said that. thinking about you, what your voice sounded like, picturing that scared look on your face when you realized he was calling your from a police station. “for the shame of being young, drunk, and alone,” he finished while looking between the two. “but i would die for her, y/n, even if i don’t know her anymore.” 
the three remained quiet for an unknown amount of time. it had seemed fitting to just sit there in a silence while they all tried to understand the full events of the night. their peaceful silence was broken by the wooden double doors being pushed open to what looked like on of the newer officers. “officer shandy, officer collins, sir, mr henderson his here and has requested the dropping of charges against trevor zegras, and for this all to go away,” he explained before  slowly slipping back inside the lobby of the police station. trevor’s green eyes turned to stare at officer collins, waiting for some sort of directions. 
“i told you it would work itself out kid, maybe there’s some hope after all for you,” he reasoned while beginning to lead trevor back into the main area. instead of taking a seat at officer collins desk trevor was brought face to face with the chain linked fence of the holding cell, only there was nobody else in there and it would be just him tonight. “this is just until somebody has time to drop you off at home, we’ve gotta file out this paperwork before we can.” 
nodding his head trevor walked into the cell before slumping down against the bench. “i guess i shouldn’t have wasted my call on somebody who was just going to hang up on me, huh?” he tried to joke, only it didn’t help him like he thought it would. office collins gave him a tight lipped smile before turning on his heels and walking back to his desk. leaving trevor to slowly let his eyes close as he tried to block out everything regarding the events of tonight, hoping it would being him some sort of comfort if he did so. 
as the sun disappeared, and the moon slowly got higher in the sky griffin, as well as the entire zegras household, was beginning to wonder just what had happened to trevor. “has anybody seen trevor?” julie asked, there being just a touch of panic in her voice. “he never came home after getting the groceries.” both ava and griffin shrugged their shoulders not having a clue as to where their brother went, while gary looked up from his newspaper bewildered by his wifes previous statement. griffin caught ava’s gaze from above his phone as they shared a look of ‘oh maybe we should be good siblings and go look for him’ before either of them got out of their seats and one inched towards the front door, while the other towards the stairs. 
“hey mom, i’m gonna go to nico’s and catch up with him. don’t wait up,” griffin all but yelled before he slipped out of the house without waiting for a reply. once in the safety of his car he opened his phone to the messages with his little sister praying that she had somewhat figured out trevor’s location. 
god trevor’s actually sofucking stupid. he’s at the police station. good lucksoldier
groaning griffin threw his head back against the headrest, of course trevor was at the police station. it was only a matter of time until his drinking got him stuck in there. shooting ava a quick text he threw his phone down and sped out of their drive way towards the police station, only slightly worried about what trevor was waiting for him when he got there. 
there sound of a soft knock on your door startled you mid swig of wine, your body jolting forward enough to cause the red liquid to swirl around in the glass bottle. when the knock was heard again you set the bottle down and padded across the hardwood floor to your bedroom door. taking a deep breath you steadied yourself before reaching towards the silver handle, praying only slightly that when you opened the door it would be trevor standing there to greet you. to explain to you how all of this was just a misunderstanding, and it was all going to work out for the better. only when you pulled the door open you were met with your father’s sullen face, his hands clasped in front of him. “i know you’ve already talked enough about this issue tonight, sweetheart,” he started, his tone soft yet firm. “and there’s probably next to nothing left to say, but that doesn’t change the fact that you are the key to this solution, whether you like it or not, and i think it’s time you own up to it.” your eyes fell downcast as you took in his words, knowing that what he said held nothing but undeniable truth. shuffling you moved out of the doorway enough for your father to walk through before closing the door behind him. he led the way over to your bed, sitting himself on the edge, waiting for you to make the next move. 
taking a deep breath you sat down next to him, eyes glancing towards the bottle before you looked down at your hands. “if i’m the solution, where do i start?” 
it had seemed as if hours had passed by in the time trevor had closed his eyes until he heard yelling coming from every direction. only when he opened his eyes and found a clock he realized it had only been nearly twenty minutes. groaning he slammed his head back against the wall, green eyes glancing around the cell to see there was two new additions, nate and matt. trevor offered an awkward half wave to the two boys, which they both returned. “‘m sorry i beat you guys up,” he then apologized with sincerity in his voice. “y/n, she just, she means a lot to me. i still really love her, you know?” 
matt couldn’t believe what he had just heard from trevor zegras mouth: an apology. one that definitely wasn’t needed seeing as the three of them were purposefully trying to get a rise out of the poor guy. pushing him to see how far he would get before seeing red. glancing over towards nate, matt made the decision to speak next. “no apology needed man, i mean we said some fucked up shit,” he addmitted, finally starting to not fear having an opinion that was different from charlie’s. “none of which was true by the way. we all know y/n isn’t boring, or her dreams don’t suck. charlie’s just jealous that she’s actually going to do something with her life and he’s going to be living off his trustfund.” 
laughter erupted from the three men in the cell, all having agreed that charlie had no future. as the laughter began to die down nate sighed before being to speak next, “look man, we’re the ones who should be sorry. you knew your limit and when to stop, but we just helped hold you down as charlie tried to beat the shit out of you. we deserved everything we got tonight.” 
trevor just barely nodded his head to agree with them both, eyes once against scanning the police station trying to find charlie. his curiosity suddenly getting the better of him and wondering why he wasn’t currently in the cell with them. “so, where is charles?” he then asked, the question hanging in the air, pushing down against his chest. because depending on what was said his whole future could be at stake. sure officer collins and shandy said mr. henderson was going to drop the charges, but that didn’t mean charlie would still try something to throw trevor under the bus. he could feel his anxiety rise because of the stituation at hand once more, being to bite his nails while he waited for an answer. 
griffin took his time while driving to the police station. mostly because he was nervous to see his big brother behind bars, but partly because he wanted trevor to think nobody was coming to help him. of course griffin knew how self destructive trevor had gotten since your break up, the entire family did, but griffin was the only one who knew how bad it had gotten. he also knew you were still reeling in different feelings towards the nhl center, as he and ava were both still in contact with you. sure, he may have resented you a little bit for what you did up and out of the blue to trevor, but he also knew you must have had a reason to do so, so he didn’t judge. that much. that’s why he had tried countless times to break his brother’s harmful habits, knowing trevor had no chance to win you back if he kept falling down this path he was currently on. that’s why he took the twenty minute route to a destination that was only five minutes away, he wanted this time in that cell to mean something to trevor. he wanted him to reflect on himself, his actions, and how much he still truly loved you, because if he loved you the way he says he does, he’d stop the drinking with or without you. he just hadn’t come to that self discovery yet. 
your father reached over and grabbed your hands, “start by forgiving yourself, y/n.” his e/c eyes that matched your own bored into the side of your head, waiting for you to turn and meet his gaze. willing you to do so, even though it was in vain. your eyes remained rooted forward, staring at your now intertwined hands. “you’re guilt ridden, and your bones are heavy with the grief of the love you once had. forgive yourself for letting it go, as your mother said earlier, you’re only human. forgive yourself, then you can forgive trevor. then you can call him.” 
“charlie’s, uh, he’s in the process of having a screaming match with his father in the chief’s office,” matt explained with a crooked smile. “his dad is pissed he started something. again. but otherwise everything’s all good and has been taken care of. matt and i are just waiting for our rides home, what about you, z?” 
the question stuck with trevor, ‘what about you, z?’ well he didn’t know what about him. he wasted his phone call on you, you hung up on him, and now he was stuck in the cell until and officer could drive him home. god what a shit show that was going to be. shrugging his shoulders he tried to appear as if he was coming off as his normal easygoing self. “officer collins is going to drive me home, nobody answered when i called home.” 
sighing griffin killed the engine of his car and forced himself up and out of his car. he knew it was wrong to let his big brother sit and rot in there as long as he did, but it felt good doing it. he kept his eyes down while walking through the front door, making his way right to the front desk. leaning over it he waited for either an officer or receptionist to come and speak to him about what he was doing here. he waited a good five minutes, slowly taking in his surroundings and trying to locate his brother, but that was proved to be invain as he couldn’t the eldest zegras sibling anywhere. “hi honey, i hope you weren’t waiting too long,” a sweet older woman smiled while sitting back in her seat. “now, what can i do for you?” 
tears stung your eyes as you looked over at your father, “how is it possible to forgive myself when all i’ve been is a horrible person in the last three years?” 
“i’m here to pick up trevor zegras.” 
trevor’s head lulled backwards as he listened to both matt and nate talk back and forth about something he had lost interest in minutes ago. eyes closing as he tried to find some sort of peace, to try and calm his murky mind. he tried to not think of you and the events that got him to this point in his life, but he couldn’t help but focus on them. starting to feel ashamed of causing himself nothing but pain from drinking every time he came home to bedford. ashamed that he was alone. ashamed he had even the slightest hope you had still wanted him, but now he knew you surely wouldn’t want him after his drunken call tonight. he didn’t even want him right now. he let out a quiet groan to himself in order to not disturb nate and matt’s rambling discussion, wishing there was a way he could separate himself as a person. so he could be the person he was before your relationship again instead of the drunken shell of a man he used to be. and then, something happened that he hadn't expected. “mr. zegras, your ride is here.” his green eyes shot open, frantically looking around for a figure that somewhat resembles you, only he couldn’t see one. officer collins was staring back at him as the cell door opened for his release. “they’re waiting for you in the lobby where you can collect your personal belongings.” 
without another word trevor scrambled to his feet and padded slowly towards the open cell, glancing back to give the two other boys a half wave as a forced goodbye before walking out. silently he followed behind the officer who had shown him nothing but kindness, through the station, taking mental notes of every person he passed praying that he would be met with your face at some point. you had to be here. you had to have changed your mind and decided to come and pick him up, otherwise how was he getting released? biting his lip he began to fidget with his fingers as officer collins opened the door to the front lobby, and what he thought would be his breath of relief turned into his worst nightmare as he came face-to-face with his younger brother. “you’re not y/n,” he breathed, voice raked with nothing but sadness. “how did - griffin?” he then asked, completely bewildered by his younger brothers presence. he knew he should’ve been grateful. he no longer had to wait out an unnnecassary stay in the prison cell, but he couldn't help the way his heartached inside his chest while meeting his brothers stoic expression as tears began to slid down his sunskissed cheeks. “y/n, she didn’t come. i thought-” he cut himself off by clearing his throat and reaching up to wipe away the tears before they fell faster than he could stop. “nevermind, it - it doesn’t matter. let’s go home griff.” and just like that he tried his hardest to bottle up his emotions once again. mind racing to think of the next time he could get his hands on a case of beer. 
m/n l/n sat quietly outside of your closed bedroom door. ear pressed against the white wood as she silently cried to herself over the heartbreak and turmoil her only child was going through. the wooden door had muffled the sounds of your father’s quiet voice, but she could still hear the combination of guilt and melancholy that was spoken with every word as he tried to reassure you that you were worthy of self forgiveness. that you weren’t the horrible person you had thought you were. she also knew that while he words were directed at you, he was speaking to himself as well. because deep down she knew your father still held guilt for putting their relationship on pause, and thought because of his actions when he was your age, this was the world’s karma by creating a similar situation with his daughter. your mother could never truly understand the pain the both of you felt, which is why she sat outside your bedroom praying to herself that you would take your father’s advice to forgive yourself. praying that after all this time he would finally forgive himself. 
“y/n,” your dad whispered with a broken smile, “i’m going to be completley honest with you sweetheart. while i don’t believe you’ve been a horrible person these past three years, i can’t give you the answers that you’re looking for.” your bloodshot e/c eyes snapped over to him within seconds. he squeezed your hands lovingly before he pulled his e/c away from your own. “i still haven’t figured out how to forgive myself for leaving your mother all those years ago. i wish i could help you the way that you need me now, but i - i don’t have the answers. because i don’t think-” he let out a solemn sigh before looking back over at you with tears in his own eyes. “i don’t think we would’ve found our way back to each other if it weren’t for that night in the emergency room. every time i tried to work up the courage to call her, i panicked. i wouldn’t allow myself to stop dwelling on the pain that i had caused her for that year apart from each other. the exact same thing you’re doing by not allowing trevor back into your live - because you can’t stop thinking about the pain you caused him. but sweetheart,” he explained with wisdom only a father would have, “this chance you have to let him back into your life? it may not come again, so it’s up to you to decide what you want to do with it before it’s too late. and you’ll know, deep down in that giant heart of yours, whether you love him enough to forgive yourself, or if you’re going to hold one mistake over your head for the rest of your life as it passes you by.” 
you forced a laugh as you stared over at him and processed his tough love words. “if i knew you weren’t right i would be so mad at you right now, dad,” you confessed as you dropped your head against his shoulder. his own finding it’s place on top of yours. there was a long beat of silence before you decided to speak again. “i’m happy you were in the er that night, dad. you and mom are my idolization of love, and i just, if it hadn’t worked out for the two of you i wouldn’t have anything to believe in.” 
this time a sad chuckle passed by his lips before he pressed a kiss against the top of your head, “kid, if it didn’t work out for your mom and me, my greatest blessing in life wouldn’t be sitting right here next to me.” 
the silence was louder than any music that girffin could’ve been chosen to play. trevor was turned to face away from his younger brother, head pressed against the glass window once again. his sliding down against it while he tried to hide his face. “so,” griffin finally worked the courage to speak, “do you want to tell me what happened that you ended up in prison and were expecting y/n to pick you up?” 
taking a breath trevor turned to face his fears which were currently in the form of explaining his downfalls to his younger brother. “it’s a long story, griff,” he whispered, reaching up to wipe away his tears once again. “one we don’t have the time for, and i’m not ready to relive.” 
scoffing griffin pulled the car over on the side of the road. “we have nothing but time, trevor!” he yelled, voice cracking as he did so. “now, i deserve an explanation as to why ava and i had to go and pick up the groceries from the middle of a parking lot. an explanation on why you ended up in prison! why you’re nose is broken, and your knuckles are beaten to shit. please, trevor, i’m your little brother, and i’m scared.” that’s when the tears started to fall down his own cheeks. “you’re scaring me. you’re scaring ava. mom, dad. so at the very least, i deserve an explanation. because three years ago you weren’t the only person who lost y/n. i lost her too. we all lost her. what we didn’t expect was losing you too.” 
the silence was so loud that both trevor and griffin heard the sound of trevor’s heart shattering into the pit of his stomach. 
“you’re right,” trevor cried while meeting his brother’s stare for the first time since getting in the car. “you guys lost y/n, just like i did, and you didn’t deserve to watch me fall apart as you have for the past three summers.” his mouth went dry as he thought of what he could possibly say next, and what his brother needed to hear in order to correct his mistakes. “but you have, and it isn’t fair. none of this is fair, because life - life like to fucking kick your ass. so i’ll tell you, but only you, griff. you can’t go running to tell ava, or mom, or dad. only you.” 
the younger brother nodded his head instantly, forcing himself to stop crying to be strong for his brother. “start wherever, i’m listening, trev.” 
taking a deep breath trevor steadied his nerves and started his story with the end. “i gave y/n’s name as my emergency call.” 
----
taking a deep breath you could feel as your world began to spiral out once again like it had two nights prior. since you’d hung up on trevor, you had listened to your father’s advice and taken the past two days to think about things once more. to see them in a different light despite how much your head told you it was wrong, in your heart you knew it was time. so after listening to his voicemail one more time, you had made up your mind. it was second nature as you started to dial his phone number, not wasting time to find his nameless contact. 
picking at your nails you waited anxiously as the dial tone played in your ears. 
it went through once.
then twice. 
finally, a third time before your call was connected.
and with a shaky breath, you breathed out his name for both you to hear.  “trevor?”
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wandixx · 2 months
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Ghost of fries and hero of cookies part 6
All work words count: 14 643
Words in this part: 2 686
Summary of whole work: Duke wasn't expecting to wake up from his quick rooftop nap to some meta kid with fries. He also wasn't expecting kid to stay
Or
Danny asked Dani to stay safe while she was in Gotham. Where would she be safer than under the wing of local hero? And he looked like he needed bad day combo anyway
This part summary: Batman wants an explanation. His kids however, wouldn't be themselves if they did add some chaos
Beta read by @audhumla-sailor though English is second language for both of us, so proceed with this in mind. I also know all of the charaters through fics alone, so probably ooc. Stay catious if it's something you don't like
First part, Previous part
“Signal.”
Duke bit back a sigh as his last hope to leave Cave undiscovered disappeared. He shot Steph message of:
Having The Talk. Come as moral support
and turned around to face Bruce.
“Yes?”
B grunted in disapproving and ‘Signal report’ way but Duke decided to buy some time and answer only questions that were actually asked. He slowly sat at the briefing table and looked at the man expectantly.
Lift chimed and moments later Tim and Cass went to Batcomputer and training mats respectively. Duke was, like, 80% sure they were there to eavesdrop. He knew them well enough. He knew them well enough.
“The girl”
“Izzy?” Was Duke annoying on purpose? Yes. He really didn’t want to have this talk. Like, at all. Psychological warfare it was “I mean, I know she is civilian and you don’t approve but at least she isn’t doing anything illegal, right? Like, you know, robbing museums or killing people?”
Bruce looked repulsed and Tim snorted.
“Low blow Narrows, low blow” Jason announced through speakers. He was slightly winded as if he just finished a fight “Good job kid”
“So you’re listening too, great” Duke muttered under his breath before louder he added “Is everyone who wants in on a show, here already?”
“Give me a sec- here Dick you’re going live now”
“Thanks Babs, you’re the best”
“I know. Donuts, you know which one”
“Of course. Glad we’re finally going to talk about Duke’s kid”
“Shut up, she is not my kid!”
“Steph ETA 2 minutes” Cass interrupted.
At least Damian didn’t show up- as if summoned by this thought Damian stomped down the stares, Alfred the Cat curled in his arms. Maybe others had a point, calling him Demon kid and stuff.
“What is an emergency?” he demanded and Duke decided to take what little relief he could from the fact that Bruce seemed equally defeated by sheer number of people around for this talk. 
“It seems like… oh, literally everyone lost an adoption bet” Babs explained. Huh, so Steph didn’t change her stance.
Damian looked genuinely terrified as he muttered “No” eyes darting between everyone present in silent calculation.
“Oh, shut up” Duke whined knowing all too well his stalling had to come to the end. Maybe it was wishful thinking but he almost heard roar of engine of Steph’s motorcycle. Her presence would be double edged sword but she would help him advocate for Dani and that was more important.
“Thomas, what have you done?!” if it was anyone other than Damian, Duke would call sound he made a whine. As it was, he preferred his entrails to stay inside and since the boy showed up, called by thought, the older boy preferred not to take risks.
“Nothing, Babs is overreacting”
“Don’t deny it. She went about it kinda Tim Lite style but it worked”
“I don’t even know her surname, where she stays or really, anything about her life outside of our patrols, how do you expect me to go about adoption?!”
“B knew even less about me when he decided, yes this tire thief is my new son!” Jason chimed in and Duke knew he was grinning despite voice modulator.
“What from my origin story was lost to make Lite version?”
“Identities weren't breached as far as we're aware. Just ‘came one day and refuses to leave’ part and some light stalking. She was smart about it, invisible, keeping out of sight and to the hot spots. Wouldn't find her if I didn't know she was there”
“She could still just not tell, I mean I knew for years before telling anyone…”
“There is no way. Believe me, she has no brain-mouth filter, I swear”
“But-”
“She introduced herself by her first name,” Duke deadpanned ”She told me civilian names of heroes from her hometown, in context that didn't require me to do any actual research to clue me. I did anyway. I don't think she even realized she did it. If she knew our identities we would know already”
There was a moment of silence as everyone digested the thought of just how gigantic breach Dani accidentally caused.
“Well, it's as good of a proof as we can get for now,” Babs bristled. 
“Who let her in on such secrets then?!” Damian sounded genuinely appalled and Duke wasn't too surprised.
Like on a cue, Steph stormed inside on her Spoiler in civies. Bruce looked about ready to get aneurysm. Duke was a bit glad that everyone was doing such good job in distraction department.
“IT’S OKAY, WHY? BECAUSE I AM HERE!” Steph yelled, jumping from before her vehicle fully stopped. She threw something small in general direction of Batcomputer “Timmy plug it in, I made a PowerPoint!”
Duke felt blood leave his face. He wasn't sure if he wanted to know what Steph put together but he probably didn't. Tim opened it anyways.
WHY HOOPOE IS ADORABLE&CHAOTIC BEAN AND SHOULD BE PART OF THE TEAM
The title slide said, one of the clearest photos of Dani from before she started wearing mask in the background. It was close-up of girl smiling, bits of brownie on her cheeks.
“Was this photo taken with a goddamn calculator?” Tim asked with disgust so clear Duke could taste it. Metaphorically of course.
“Nah, just body-cam. Her powers mess with technology a bit”
Tim still looked displeased at the craftsmanship.
“Don't worry, it's not  a bad photo. Baby Bird is just being perfectionist,” Dick placated.
Duke didn't realize that Damian froze until he unfroze and made his way to the screen, stopping less than one foot away from it. His movements were rigid, his face scrunched with distress. Alfred the Cat escaped its master probably due to hoe tense he was. Everyone in Cave quietened as soon as boy took first step and expecting mood had to run through microphones because nobody from the on-line crowd quipped in.
“This is the green of Lazarus” he whispered finally, sounding actually scared. Jason swore. Bruce and Cass visibly stiffened. Tim choked and he wasn't even drinking. Dick did his whinny breezy name saying thing when he wanted explanation and felt lightly betrayed. 
It was Duke's turn to freeze because… it wasn't. Of course he wasn't all that well versed in the Pit, less alone its color but he did bust quite a few trafficking rings with Jason and he saw his eyes afterwards all raging, toxic, neon green glory and it wasn't the same as Dani’s. As much as he liked English and how good he was at it, it failed him at simple task of describing the obvious difference between each other. He'd have more luck describing tastes with set of color samples from IKEA or something. And really, even if he tried he would lose the fight of competence with Damian. Who wouldn't.  But-
“There is no way she has any connection with LOA”
“Why is that?” Damian seemed to misinterpret it as challenge like he always did when emotions were running high. Duke took a deep breath. Well, it was a moment to use all of his diplomatic skills and speak in the language of the demons.
“I've seen her fight. She would be utter disgrace”
“It does not prove-”
“It does” Duke interrupted with the tone and mimic of person who saw too much because he did ”None of you have any say until you watch a tiny and I mean tiny ten year old tackle five Joker goons like it's a joke, by sheer virtue of super strength and intangibility-means-I-can-ignore-bullets-Signal-don’t-be-such-worrywart. She should get shot, like, three times at least. And she kept laughing!” he was low key wheezing at the end because even after all this time (a week) it was fucking horrifying. Bruce made a huff that meant he was laughing and put a hand on his shoulder as a sign of support. Dick's lighthearted laugh sang from the speakers.
“Don't worry Duke, it never gets better” B said with mirth.
He refused to elaborate whether he meant ‘kids keep jumping into danger like there is no tomorrow‘ or ‘it's equally terrifying every time’ and Duke decided to reflect on that sentiment later. It put some things into perspective. A lot of things if he was being honest.
Also, he was not ready for stuff like that to become even semi-normal occurrence. He was ready to give her all of his Alfred cookies if it could change anything. He knew it wouldn't. 
“Do you have any other evidence that your new acquaintance does not just fake being less experienced to make you lower your guard?” Damian asked warily.
“I had to teach her out of putting her thumb in her fist,” he deadpanned. Several people hissed in empathetic pain. Steph coughed to bring attention to where she stood in front of Batcomputer, other slide of her Power Point open. Duke recognised video from his body-cam.
“Exhibit A” she announced. She played a video with Dani’s first mugging attempt he witnessed. Let it be said, it was a disaster.
“Exhibit B '' One of Dani’s most epic fails at side-kick that ended with her falling face first to the ground.
“Exhibit C” Dani fumbled with zip-ties, looking at him utterly at loss.
“Exhibit D” the talk about her prior training.
“What’s was that sound?” Dick obviously on the verge of cooing when girl on video growled. Steph stopped video.
“Very angry kitten” Tim stated with soft smile.
“Honestly, furious girl” Cass corrected “She was really mad at you”
“Yeah, I know but promise of Alfred’s cookies was enough to placate her”
“You gave her Alfred’s cookies?!”
“She started by giving me a lot of food on a really shitty patrol, had to repay somehow”
“Was it from your share or-” Dick asked like it was most important thing in the world.
“Miss Hoopoe was added to my plans after she picked her new name” Alfred explained and shit, Duke really should get used to how man just appeared sometimes. Jumpscare the original.
“Alfred, you knew?” Bruce sounded so utterly betrayed.
“I have yet to meet her but I was informed about her presence about two weeks ago”
“He caught me printing mask for her”
“About that” Steph clapped and skipped her slide show “Look at thi clueless child with such horrible disguises and codename ideas” There was whole list of every name Dani wanted to try out and photo of her bare face.  Duke kinda repressed his memories of it. It was worse than he remembered.
“Did she really tried kenting that?”
“Got it after her cousin. He used his first name as part of his alias for almost half a year” Duke admitted in carefree tone, knowing it would cause a mess.
“Cousin?!” several people yelled in surprise.
“Caped cousin?!”
“Yup. Small time hero from Illinois. As far as I’m aware she’s alone in Gotham but they’re in regular contact and she has strong believe that he can and will help her if she used her panic button”
“Who in their right mind let’s kid alone in Gotham?!” Jason sounded about ready to strangle Phantom.
“He seems to be fifteen himself. And has anti-meta parents if I’m picking things up correctly. She didn’t mention them much. I highly doubt she has present parents at all, so…”
“What the hell Narrows.”
“I don’t know, it’s just a wild guess”
“Does it call for the rescue?” Steph asked eagerly.
“We’re not going to Illinois to rescue Phantom if he doesn’t ask for it. He has means to it” Bruce interrupted with bone deep sigh.
“How do you know I meant Phantom?” Duke perked up because he never mentioned this name.
“He is from Illinois, looks almost the same as far as I can tell from the photos and they share a lot of powers”
“I didn’t know you knew about random kid hero from other state?”
“He dropped by on few Justice League’s mission. There is still dispute whether we should approach him in his city or not. He was very clear on his opinion that we should stay away. I think we really shouldn’t”
“How you haven’t gone or sent anyone there yet?” Tim teased.
Bruce just stared at him then gestured at mountain of cases they were currently working on. Yes, they were printed. Apparently for man it made it easier to work on them like that.
“Can we focus back on untrained child you let join you on patrol, Duke?”
“You act like I could stop her from doing her own thing if I didn’t  let her. Plus, even though she doesn’t have combat training, she can handle herself well enough. And has this damn intangibility that makes her really hard to punch”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t tell anyone other than Alfred and Steph and I wanted to wait a bit before leaving her to the wolfs”
“The bet”
“Shut up Steph”
“When did you plan on letting us know?” Bruce ignored what blonde insinuated. Duke was utterly grateful for that, he knew he would get lecture for that later but he was more than happy to leave it be for now.
“Somewhen next week. I hoped to introduce her gradually but apparently everyone knew already?”
“Kids tell me things. Hoopoe made a good impression on them” Jason explained.
“Hero sightings on Twitter” Dick admitted without a shadow of shame.
“What he said” Tim agreed “This person from crochet dolls made one for your kid too, so in public eyes she’s our already”
“For the last time, she isn’t my kid!” Duke groaned but as always went ignored.
“Nobody expected old man’s tendencies to rub on you so fast, Narrows”
“Shut up and this is half a reason I didn’t let you meet her. All of you”
“With all due respect Duke” Babs started teasingly “You gave us ammo yourself. You improved her diet, you brought her to The Food Track Of Mental Breakdowns, you teach her stuff, you check in on her almost as often as her cousin and their friends do…”
“How did you hack her pho- No, wrong question, why?!”
“We’re all paranoid bastards, I needed to check out the newest bird. She legally doesn’t exist btw so I suspect some shady stuff with her birth but otherwise nothing sus about her. Comms and trackers for her are waiting in drawer C19. You will give it to her tomorrow”
“Aye, aye captain Oracle ma’am” he joked.
“Wait, you showed her The Food Track?”
“She deserved it” he gritted out.
Before this could turn into a fight or something, Alfred demanded:
“Since we are all on the same page now, I would like to extend an invitation for family dinner to miss Hoopoe”
“We’ll eat it down here in full costumes”
“As you wish master Bruce. Master Duke make sure to let her know”
“Of course Alfred”
And he planned to do that but Dani didn’t show up. He hadn’t thought much of it because she was unpredictable like that. She tended to disappear from the face of the Earth for a day or two and return with tales of her “autograph hunting trips”
But then she didn’t show up on the next patrol too. It was unprecedented. And she hadn’t responded to the check in. Three times in the row. He was getting kinda sick from the stress.
He knew Dani well enough, she wouldn’t ghost him like that and in Gotham disappearing meant three things: getting kidnapped, trafficked or six feet under. To their knowledge, Dani didn’t have anyone who would pay ransom for her other than Signal and no demands were made so the first option was out.
Bats launched full fledged search.
Duke himself found and busted two trafficking rings in three weeks which was around how much he did in two months on a daily basis.
Thanks to Oracle, they found Dani’s utterly crashed phone in the dead end in the Narrows. It didn’t look any better.
Duke really hoped they wouldn’t be too late.
With each day it seemed more likely.
********
Bruce: *wants to have private conversation with his son about unknown child he's been working with*
All of the Batfam: Hello there
Duke: I managed to keep Dani secret my family of detectives!
Everyone other than Bruce: I knew for past two weeks, but goood job kid
Random o Twitter: I'm sooo disappointed with Signal for letting Hoopoe fight crime. She is just a little child, she shouldn't have to witness Gotham's worst
Other Random: Have you heard about Robin????? Have you seen teories that Signal is teenager???? With proofs????? Are you mad at child for not taking proper care of the other child????? That's messed up my dude/gal
Yell at Batman
Signal: You act like she isn't personification of feral cat I try to coax home so I can prevent her from getting in trouble. I dare you to try and stop her
Phantom: I do too, 100$ if you manage. It would save me from so much stress
Random: Now, who the f*ck are you?!
(Guess who never touched Twitter with 20 meters stick in her life)
Next part
Tag list: @pickleking8 @mynameisnotlaura
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rae-gar-targaryen · 1 year
Note
Why yes, your Honour, I would like to lick Jake Seresin’s abs. Each and every one of them. Trace them with my tongue. If that’s a crime throw me in jail.
Well, congratulations, lovely anon. You've inspired something that no one ever thought possible -- Rae writing for a BLONDE MAN, of all people. Pls enjoy this little blurb. Even though it's probably not the greatest thing I've ever written --
--
your name (on that coffee cup)
warnings: none, just bad flirting.
pairing: jake jortles "hangman" seresin x fem!civilian reader
word count: 2.3k (you've gotta be fucking kidding me) of sweet, if not stilted, flirtation and whatever the fuck this is...
Reblogs make the world go 'round! 🌿💜
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--
The coffee shop was more crowded than usual today. You supposed it might have something to do with the fact that today, the weather gods had decided that it would be the one, annual rainy day, forcing commuters to seek shelter indoors from the "deluge" (but what you considered to be, at most, a decent sprinkle). Southern Californians were decidedly not built for the rain.
You casually observed the casuals and regulars alike filtering in and out from your chosen table adjacent to the pickup counter. Your usual table, from where you'd set up shop, plinking away at your novel with your playlist and the welcome, muffled bustle of customers as backdrop busy-noise that filtered through your headphones for company. 
People-watching was uniquely inspirational whenever you were facing a bit of writer's block, so you had opted for leaving the relative coziness of your nearby apartment – content to perch on at this table and allow the quirks of strangers to serve as fodder for your novel.
Except that today, it was more overstuffed than your favorite blue-velvet chair in your apartment. The queue of bodies waiting for their cups of caffeine and their matcha lattes causing the already-warm interior of the shop to fog the windows. 
You'd just finished a particularly troublesome paragraph – How your two stubborn protagonists were ever going to set aside their differences as they made their way through the enchanted wood, you weren't one hundred percent clear on. But sometimes it was best to skip the mental obfuscation and jump straight into a part you were excited to write … their eventual love scene was beckoning you.
You worried your drink's straw between your teeth, eyes unfocused, pondering how to get Ser Marcus out of his shirt and beneath Lady Lucy, when he walked in. 
Him.
The tall drink of water with broad shoulders and dirty-blonde hair. With a million-watt smile he graced to whichever barista happened to be handing him his coffee that day.
He looked like a Ken-doll, if you were honest. But not in a bad (junkless) way. More of an All-American, conventionally attractive way, if he'd asked you. Not that he had. You had certainly seen him here before. But you weren't sure the same could be said of him. 
You watched idly as he breezed past you to place his order in a damp shirt that was veritably plastered to his torso, and running shoes that squeaked with rainwater, the noise making its way over the dull din of the shop. 
Perhaps he'd been out for a run when the rain had started.
He spoke to Monica the barista at the counter, out of earshot, though the easy way he leaned against the counter and smiled at her made it clear he didn't mind his own state of dress. The sort of easy handsome of an Eastwood.
You had turned back to the blinking cursor of your doc, thoughts buzzing with handsomely tanned skin and wet clothes, when the unmistakable shadow of a person loomed over you.
You glanced up, only to be simultaneously thankful for your screen protector and greeted with –
"Hi there," he breezed. 
It was Ken. In the perfect plastic flesh.
And, really, it was the fact that his torso was directly in your seated eyeline (and no other reason, you swear) that allowed you to notice (appreciate) that his already-rainwet and plastered shirt hugged his torso in such a way that allowed you to observe (appreciate) that you could see the outline of every. single. one. of his abdominal muscles, as though his shirt was made of flimsy tissue paper that might tear away beneath your touch.
No, this was fine.
"Uhhh." You were articulate, you swear. "Hi."
"Would it be alright if I sat with you while I wait?" He gestured over his shoulder with a pointed thumb vaguely in the direction of the pickup counter. "It's a little crowded in here today, and this is the only open seat."
Ah. An arrangement of convenience, and not that he wanted to sit with you.
You bit down your disappointment long enough to ease your lips into what you hoped resembled a smile, gesturing openly to the seat.
"By all means."
He shot a grateful–if not cheeky– wink your way as he pulled the seat out, angling himself to maintain eye contact with you, while still keeping one ear open for his name.
"Thank you, ma'am," he conceded politely, voice still warm and easy, as though no one had ever refused him a paltry request in his life. (And maybe they hadn't.) "I didn't exactly want to stand there in my wet clothes."
"No," you agreed. "Sitting in wet clothes is much more pleasant. Especially in those tight, Baby Gap-sized t-shirts. Everyone knows that."
"Everyone," he agreed, eyes twinkling and allowing you to appreciate just how green they were, glimmering, verdant and mossy, like the forest bedecked with fresh rainfall. How fortuitous, then, that he'd choose to sit with you on San Diego's one rainy day per year. "Teacher? Grading?" He nodded at your laptop, gem eyes flitting over the fading, curled stickers slapped onto the back.
You couldn't help yourself. You giggled.
"No," you shook your head. "Novelist."
"Ah," he conceded. "So whatcha writing?" 
And as you made to open your mouth to tell him that he shouldn't really ask a writer those types of question, he perked, and held up a finger as if to say "hold that thought," as he shot up to retrieve his beverage from the counter.
He must've heard his name. Ah well, it was nice while it lasted. You tried not to feel disappointed that your one encounter with hot coffee shop guy had come and gone in the blink of an eye. And tried not to beat yourself up that you hadn't caught the name when it had been called…
To your surprise, he turned back and plopped himself back into the seat opposite you, expectant eyes awaiting your answer as he blew into the small hole at the lid of his coffee cup.
"Ehm," you continued. "It's… a … novel," you finished, lamely. Flushed with the prospect of having to admit to this guy that you wrote high-fantasy erotica for a living, your self-preservation instincts kicking in before you admitted something you wouldn't necessarily have the chance to come back from if he decided to make fun of you for.
And he was ridiculously handsome. The sort of guy who looked like he belonged on the cover of the type of book you were writing, billowing unbuttoned shirt, and all... Maybe he'd pose if you asked?
If he was annoyed or put off by your evasiveness, Ken-doll didn't show it, that million-watt grin easing its way back onto his very pleasing face, prominent jaw and white teeth on full display as he played along.
"I might've guessed," he said. "I'm Jake, by the way." 
He held out his hand for you to shake. You responded in kind, allowing his hand to envelop yours with both size and warmth as you pumped your arm in a firm, decided handshake.
"I might've guessed," you parroted. 
He shot you a quizzical look; brows furrowed.
"It's on your cup," you nodded in the direction of the cup clutched in his other hand, the corner of your mouth titling into a smile. 
"A dead giveaway," he agreed, pleased that you had thought to make the observation. Maybe you were this way with everyone, he thought. All sweet smiles and starry, foxlike eyes, discerning but decidedly available. Selfishly, perhaps — he hoped that wasn't the case.
"Unless of course they had gotten the wrong name, and it's really, like, Jack, or James, or something," the fizzling pleasure of his hand on yours and the swelter of this coffee shop was really doing a number on your head, because now you were rambling. "Then if I had called you Jake based on the cup, I would've been both presumptuous and stupid. Like a 'Mark-with-a-C situation… Cark," you finished, unhelpfully.
"Now that's just unlikely, sweetheart," he disagreed. "You're clearly too sharp for that… Bridget." He squinted at your cup, greeting you with a name that was not your own.
"Oh, no…" you laughed, the pleased sound meeting his ears despite the relative staticky-din of the late-morning rush around him, "My name isn't Bridget," you explained, sheepish about the relative silliness of the game of being friends with one of the workers. "Uh, Monica likes to give me a new name every day I come in. Sort of to mock me for how often I come, I guess? We've known each other awhile. So, she's allowed."
If Jake thought it was childish or silly, he didn't let on, instead nodding and smiling at your explanation, still incomprehensibly interested in what you had to say…
"So that's why I see you in here so often," he conceded. "A novelist who writes in a coffee shop, where she knows everyone. Cute."
Out of any other mouth, it might have sounded condescending. But there was no hint of condescension in his honey-smooth voice. Only the facile twang of Southern charm and genuine earnestness. 
But all you heard was that he'd seen you before. He had seen you.
And you must've asked this out loud, because the next thing you knew, he was all smooth laughter and glimmering teeth,
"Yeah, I've seen you," he agreed. "You always look so concentrated, I never want to interrupt. My mama raised me better than that. But today I actually had the chance to say hello. So, uh, thank the rain, I guess…" he eased.
And you'd really hoped that the pleased warmth of flirtatious embarrassment wasn't inclined to show itself in any way, across your face or the exposed skin of your shoulders. Because you were certain those sparkling eyes of his were shrewd enough to tell. And how could a guy like this not be aware of his effect on women? So, you pressed on, closing your laptop lid, the better to focus on him with.
"And what do you do, Jake? If you're out for a run in the rain, you're clearly committed. Let me guess," you tapped your chin in mock-consternation, voice trailing in thought. "Model? Please say no because that would be a lot for me."
Jake barked a laugh at this. And perhaps you'd incidentally, dangerously boosted what was already a high ego. But he continued in good humor –
"No, sweetheart. Not a model. Naval aviator," and he'd actually shrugged at that, like it was no big deal. "I'm at the base down the way. So, yeah, I guess you can say I'm dedicated."
You groaned, teasingly, fucking your head into your arms, "Oh fuck, no. So just a civil servant who looks like a model. You can get the fuck outta here with that." You leaned across the table to teasingly shove one of his (ridiculously sculpted) shoulders, pleased at the feel of him beneath your fingertips.
"It's my honor to serve you, ma'am," he straightened in his seat, taking on his best "official" voice. (Oh, god, this was doing a number on you.) He continued,
"In fact, I think you should let me take you to dinner…?" He trailed off, perhaps in realization that he still didn't know your name.
You twisted in your seat to pluck a pen from the messenger bag hanging from the back of your chair, turning back to pluck his cup from his very hands in a move so cheeky you would swear you were having some kind of out-of-body experience. You were never this bold.
But the attentions of this, okay, let's be real… this veritable Adonis before you was likely doing something dangerous to your own ego, never mind his. Your head was somewhere in the clouds (a place he was clearly comfortable, being a "naval aviator, ma'am," and all)..
You tugged the pen cap off with your teeth, your attention fixed on the label.
Huh. Vanilla soy latte. 
You didn't comment on his drink of choice, choosing instead to strike through his name with the pen, and ink your own, your phone number printed clearly and neatly beneath it. Handing the cup back to him when you'd finished, recapping the pen as he twirled the cup in his hands to read what you'd put on the label.
He parroted your name back to you, the way his mouth worked out the letters an image you'd likely think about for a little too long, ya know, later... and the sound of it from his throat ringing in your ears.
"I'll text you," he assured, winking at you as he made to stand, rapping his knuckles on the corner of your table before mock-saluting you with two fingers to his forehead and an easy, charming grin on his lips. "I look forward to hearing about that novel over dinner, ma'am." 
With that, he walked out of the shop, taking with him the air in your lungs and your certainty that that had actually just happened, and leaving you with the faintly buzzing feeling of lofty flirtation and the blooming promise of a fucking date!
Eager to capitalize on the fizzy feelings, you opened your laptop lid and turned back to your unfinished section now, wan smile borne of fresh flirtation affixed to your lips, your thoughts swimming in a seafoam green ocean of emerald eyes, breezy flirtation, and, yeah, tight t-shirts...
"It was then that Lady Lucy swung her leg astride Ser Marcus, devilish fingers peeling his tunic from his toned stomach. With a smirk painted across her features, she dipped her head, allowing herself to trace her tongue along the ridges and planes of her lover's stomach, reveling in the feel of each prominent abdominal muscle beneath her tongue. Greeted with the delightful sound of her beloved's surprised gasps, manifestations of pleasure at her attentions…"
And no, you reasoned with yourself as you typed. You totally weren't thinking of green-eyed, handsome Jake as you wrote. These desires were your character's, not yours – you swear.
And no, your thoughts also were definitely not on his promised text message, either, that lit up your phone as you glanced at it. Greeted with the proposition of "Dinner Thursday?" No, you totally weren't thinking of him…
It's life that imitates art, after all... (Or was it the other way around?) And you hadn't had the chance to taste those abs for yourself. (But hope springs eternal...)
--
Tagging:  @withahappyrefrain @thegirlwhowritesfics @xbamboowishesx @friendly-neighborhood-blondie @abibliophobiaa @clints-lucky-arrow @inklore @phoenixhalliwell @ohmagawd-life @thematthewmurdock @mrshipsmcgee @p3mybeloved @decadentpaperduck @letmeplaytheliontoo @vestrangel @moonlight-prose @aphrogeneias @levylovegood @thatredheadwriter @2clones-1kamino @zombieaurora @shadeds-library @writercole @ijustwantedplums @gretagerwigsmuse @fanboysfangirl @shakira-sasha @siriusfahey @joaquinwhorres @jakexfmc @the-navistar-carol  @jadore-andor @fanboygarcia @lavenderluna10 @fluffyprettykitty @mickeyluvs @mothdruid  @maxmayfield @drew-garfi @eagerforthesky
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butdaddyilovehimmm · 2 months
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the formula for writing marvey is fr just banter + movie quote + bickering + good boy + puppy/rookie + slightly emotionally stunted harvey + "you care"
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thespiritssaidso · 2 months
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You know what? Fuck you. *horror genres your detective comedy show*
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writingperfect · 15 hours
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There were tears in the hero’s eyes.
At first glance, they had looked dead. Blood soaked through their suit and the villain was sure they had felt bones break when they’d hit their enemy several times. They’d been sure the hero was dead this time but they were still breathing. Still responsive.
The villain cursed in their mind. How many times had they been in this situation before? With the hero on the ground or the villain on the ground and the other just staring, too stunned to utter a word. Too stunned by their own actions and their own lack of humanity.
How many times had one of them stopped for a second, right there? Had hesitated and asked themselves if this was their true self? How many times had they recalculated everything and fallen to their knees next to their nemesis? God, the villain didn’t know.
But this was one of those times and honestly, the fact that the hero cried made the villain uneasy. They usually didn’t do that. They got back up or stayed down. Quiet. Suffering alone.
“This is insanity,” the hero wheezed. The villain stood there, scrutinising the mess. Assessing the situation wasn’t easy. They didn’t know how much damage they had done — they never did — but they knew the hero was okay. They were always okay. Always being just fine.
The question was: how do you kill such a saint?
“I’m afraid it is,” the villain whispered. “But I have to be honest. I don’t know how to stop. I don’t know when to stop.”
“And yet, you never pull through.” The villain kneeled beside the hero, listening carefully. “And neither do I.”
They studied their nemesis, studied the blood and the broken bones. A normal human being could never survive this.
The hero leaned their head against the wall and groaned. Blood was running out of their mouth.
“I will always have to stop you,” they said. “And I know you won’t stop. You won’t stop until you get what you want. God, I don’t even know what that is. Money? Chaos? Revenge?”
Purpose, actually. But the hero didn’t need to know that.
“Creation through destruction” the villain mumbled. They pushed a loose strand of hair out of the hero’s eyes. In another life, they could’ve been something different, they feared. “That’s what I want.”
The villain was a brilliant liar.
“Ouroboros,” the hero said. They looked at the villain and something incredibly tragic soaked through the air between them. “Tail devourer.”
“I’m no serpent.”
“We’re doomed, aren’t we? For as long as we’re alive, we are doomed.” Tears kept falling down their face and, hell, the villain couldn’t place that feeling in their chest at all. As if someone or something was squeezing their heart together until it popped.
“We can’t change this,” the villain whispered. They put a hand on the hero’s thigh, attempting softness when all they had ever touched had turned into dust. “But at the end of the day, I still have you. We may be doomed to fight each other, to attempt the other’s destruction but at least we do it together.”
They wiped tears and blood out of the hero’s face and stood up, looking around aimlessly.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Both healed overnight, like immortals do, and the circle repeated itself the next day.
However, it felt different this time. For both of them.
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c0unterclockwise · 9 months
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I remember eating moldy strawberries on the porch with you. You picked the fuzzy ones up between your yellow fingers and you ate them for me. Why did you smoke so much? You taught me how to play chess, with those hands. Did it mean anything to you? My young hand in your leathered palm. It didn't to me. I remember you telling me it was good for me; the mold.
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The Writers Guild of America is on strike
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rvspecter · 2 months
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