#Connor is 5 years old already

[julientel]

Happy Birthday, Connor 🤍

[writingonleaves]

it's so hard to watch everything i want (everything i was spinning down the drain) - trevor zegras

pairing: trevor zegras x original female character

warnings: swearing, angst-ish, mentions of cheating (not between the two main characters), self-loathing, fluff

based on: "bleach" by 5 seconds of summer + "the archer" by taylor swift. title from "bleach"

word count: 15.6k

author's note: tried my hand at writing trevor's pov and it was Hard. this one means a lot to me personally so i hope you enjoy it as much as i enjoyed writing it! takes place at least five ish years from now so future fic alert!! trevor is finally employed again and that motivated me to finish this LOL

*****

Trevor Zegras is good at a lot of things. Remembering names and faces is at the top of the list.

It kinda makes sense. He’s been meeting and shaking hands with people ever since he was a teenager, most of them wanting something from him in one way shape or form. It’s not completely a bad thing. He wouldn’t have gotten this far without knowing who he was talking to. 

So that’s why it’s such a surprise that it took him a whole damn hour to figure out why the wedding planner for Jack and Amelie’s wedding looked so familiar. Isabelle, she introduced herself as, and he keeps racking his mind to see if he knows an Isabelle, but he comes up empty.

As a groomsman, Trevor was expected to come to the venue earlier. He didn’t have to come a whole week earlier, but he had nothing else going on and the wedding’s in Michigan, so it wasn’t completely inconvenient for him. He just crashed at Jack and Quinn’s, to which the latter rolled his eyes at. But the soon-to-be-married couple were thrilled that he was coming early so they could put him to work, and he was more than happy to help out. 

It’s halfway through assembling floral centerpieces when he shoots his head up to the wedding planner across from him. “Belle Holloway?”

Belle looks up with a small smile. “Been a long time since anyone’s called me that.”

“Holy shit. I knew you looked familiar. It’s been so long.”

“Z, are you bothering Isabelle?” Jack calls out from another table. “Please don’t scare her away. She’s been our lifesaver the last year.”

Belle chuckles. “You don’t need to worry, Jack.”

“Yeah, Hughesy. Belle and I go way back.”

Amelie is passing by and hears that comment, raising her eyebrows. “You two know each other?”

“We grew up in the same town,” Belle explains, tying a ribbon around a bunch of flowers. “My brother was in Trevor’s grade in school. They played hockey together for a bit before Trevor got too good and left.”

“Belle was probably the smartest girl in school,” Trevor adds with a hint of pride in his tone. “Can’t say the same about her brother. Where did you end up going to college?”

“University of Michigan.” Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Jack smirk. Weirdo. He literally didn’t even go to Michigan. 

Trevor whistles. “Still smart. Where is Connor these days? He went to UConn, right?”

“Yup. He’s with his wife in Chicago now. Doing something with finance.”

Trevor makes a mental note to reach out to his old friend the next time he’s in Chicago. “And little Lily?”

Belle chuckles. “Not so little anymore. She graduated from Parsons last year and works at Michael Kors as a designer.”

Trevor smiles knowingly. “Guess her styling Connor all those years paid off, eh?”

“Guess so.”

(Amelie and Jack are at another table working on centerpieces, overhearing this conversation. They give each other a knowing look as they keep eavesdropping. This is why Belle didn’t seem surprised during their initial consultation when they had to explain Jack’s hockey schedule and why he wouldn’t be able to adhere to the traditional timeline if he wanted to be at all the appointments. Little did they know, she already knew someone in the NHL)

She then asks about his family, because while Trevor was always her brother’s friend, their parents got to know each other pretty well to the point where they would go over to each other’s for dinner enough for her to remember. Trevor talks about how Griffin is off doing God knows what in Florida but having a good time at his sports marketing job and how Ava, who’s the same age as Lily, graduated from Elon and is now in the Philly area as a nurse. 

They’re now moving pots of flowers around as they venture into their lives post-grad. “So have you been in Michigan this whole time?” Trevor asks.

“Yeah, though I had a brief stint in Santa Ana. This wedding is my last one here, actually, so a fun one to end on.”

Trevor follows her eye-line at the soon-to-be-newlyweds, who are now decorating the photo station but more fucking around then decorating. Amelie’s slapping Jack’s shoulder as he laughs loudly. Trevor smiles at the sight. “They’re great, aren’t they?”

“They are,” Belle admits. “I’ve worked with a lot of couples, but they’re one of my favorites. From the fact that they’re organized and flexible and so kind and understanding to the fact that they seem to be super in love with each other.”

“You said this is your last wedding here?” Belle nods. “Where you off to next?”

Trevor notices her stiffening a bit, and he immediately wants to take the question back. But the discomfort leaves as fast as it came. “Not sure. Gonna do some last minute packing up and then go home to New York next week to reset and figure it out from there. Connor offered his guest room in Chicago so I might take that. I have some friends that are dispersed around the country as well.” She shakes her head and switches topics and he makes a mental note of her vague answer. “Enough about me. How about you, Mr. NHL? Not gonna lie, when I saw Jack’s list of groomsmen, I had to brace myself mentally when I saw your name.”

“Brace yourself? What does that mean?”

Belle chuckles and his smile widens at the sound. “It’s been awhile, but not everything is different. I’m sure you’re still the life of the party everywhere you go, which means you’re at high risk of intruding on my meticulous plans on the day. Mind grabbing those shears for me next to you?”

He passes her the shears, standing up straight. “Jack’s conned you. He is way worse than I am.”

“Jack is also the groom so he knows that he has to listen to what I say if he wants things to go well,” Belle says. “How have you been, though? Has Anaheim been treating you well?”

“It has. The team’s great. The weather’s great. The beach is right there. Very different from Bedford.”

“Congrats on a great season. The playoff run was fun to watch.”

His eyebrow shoots up. “You watched?”

She shrugs a bit sheepishly. “If a game is on, I’ll usually watch. It’s like white noise to me now, after going to Connor’s, and I guess your games growing up. I went to a couple of Ducks games during the two years I lived in Cali.”

“And you didn’t reach out?”

She wipes her hands on her jeans. “I…you were always more Connor’s friend than mine. Didn’t want it to be weird.”

“It wouldn’t have been,” he assures. “Next time, let me know and I’ll get you tickets. You still have my number?”

“I do.”

“Perfect,” Amelie then comes up and seems like she has a question. “I’ll let you ladies be. Where’s your fiance?” He asks the bride-to-be.

“Quinn just arrived, so probably making sure the bar is all good, since you guys have your weird ass drink preferences,” Amelie says. “We should be almost done here though. Just have a couple last questions for Belle and then we’ll head back.”

Trevor snorts. “Typical. I’ll go find them.” He turns back to Belle with a grin. “Good to see you, Belle. Don’t be a stranger.”

Belle smiles. “I’ll see you at the wedding.”

“I’ll be on my best behavior.” Trevor promises, before walking away. 

When things finally settle down a couple of hours later and he settles into one of the guest rooms for the night, he reflects back to his own childhood and memories of Isabelle Holloway, or Belle, as everyone used to call her. Brunette and green-eyed, Belle was decently quiet compared to him and Connor’s wild teenage boy energy, but she was talkative with her own friends and Trevor’s parents adored her. She loved Taylor Swift, and if Trevor looked into it deeper, her blasting her music around all the time probably got Trevor to like it purely through osmosis. She was always clean, happy to do the dishes and Trevor often caught her organizing the living room and basement without being asked. She was incredibly smart, always had her homework done before hanging out with her friends and seemed to always ace her classes with minimal difficulty. Even when Connor gave her shit just because he was the oldest sibling, she rarely dished it back. That kindness extended to all of Connor’s friends as well, including Trevor, even when they were loud and playing video games when she came home from school. Every memory he has of Connor growing up, Belle’s right around the corner.

Belle Holloway had always been too good to them. It’s a no-brainer that her profession is based on giving something to others.

He still follows Connor on Instagram, so he goes to his old friend’s page to find his sister’s page. She’s private, but he doesn’t hesitate on requesting her account. He goes to take a shower and brush his teeth and when he comes back to his phone, he’s delighted to see that she’s accepted his follow request. 

Thus begins his stalking. 

There’s not many posts to stalk — she only has 47 — but it does span the amount of years he lost touch with the Holloways. There are posts from her later high school years when Trevor had already left Bedford, and he smiles to himself when he sees the post from her high school graduation, with Connor, Belle and Lily all cheesing in one photo. There are various posts from her college years — she must’ve spent a semester or a summer abroad in Barcelona — mixed with some various travels from Yellowstone to Sweden to Miami. Then it gets less frequent after she graduates college, posts of the Michigan landscape, posts with friends on a night out, at a friend’s wedding, the rare photos of just herself. She notices there’s a guy in some of those posts, but no one’s tagged and the caption doesn’t reveal anything, so he figures it must be a friend or ex-boyfriend of some sort. 

One thing that hasn’t changed much, he thinks, is how beautiful she is. As he scrolls on her Instagram and thinks back to seeing her earlier today, he kinda can’t stop thinking about how beautiful she is.

The day of the wedding comes by and it’s an early start for the bridal party. Trevor rolls into the Planterra Conservatory at 8:47 a.m. with coffees for himself, Quinn, Luke and Jack while Cole had gotten coffees for himself, Nico and Alex earlier. The suits are already hung up by the window of the spacious room and beers have already been opened. 

“Starting off early, eh?” He sets down the coffees on the table. 

“It’s a big day,” Luke calls out from steaming everyone’s suits.

“That it is,” he stops by the chair Jack is sitting in and gives him a hug. “Congrats, man. You nervous?”

“Nah,” Jack smiles. “More excited than anything.”

Quinn grabs his coffee and sits down. “I stopped by the bridal suite just a few minutes ago. Amelie said the same thing.”

Jack lights up at the mere mention of her. “I’m just anxious to see her, to be honest.”

Belle walks in then, clad in a light green jumpsuit and a tan blazer, with a bright smile on his face. “Oh good, Trevor made it. Everyone all good in here? Do you guys need anything?”

Jack grins. “We’re all good here, Isabelle. Thank you. I’ll holler if we need anything. Promise.”

She shoots the groom a semi-skeptical look before nodding. “Okay. I’ll check back in, in 30 minutes.”

“Do you need any help at all?” Nico asks. 

She shakes her head with a thankful smile. “You all are too kind. I’m good. Michelle and I are manning the floor. She’s kinda doing my job better than I am, when she has her own bridesmaid duties to worry about.”

“Impossible.” Quinn remarks. “You’re fabulous at your job.”

Belle rolls her eyes fondly, and Trevor’s reminded that even though she’s the one running the show, she’s younger than a majority of the bridal party. “Flatterer.” She takes her phone out of her pocket and clicks her tongue. “Alright. I’m out.” She looks at Trevor with a pointed look. “Zegras. You better come find me if anything goes wrong.”

“Why are you entrusting that responsibility onto me?”

“Because I have so many stories about you that I could tell everyone if you don’t listen to me.”

Trevor gasps in mock offense. “Belle, oh Belle! Resorting to blackmail?”

The whole room laughs as she grins. She stops in front of him, a more serious look on her face. “Call me if anything goes wrong?”

“I gotcha.” He assures her with a firm nod and she shoots everyone one last grin before walking out. If his eyes linger on her, no one has to know. 

(Everyone in the room knows. He doesn’t notice them all giving each other knowing smirks)

Jack speaks up first. “Z, if you end up hooking up with my wedding planner, give her a good time at least. She deserves it.”

“Jesus Christ, Jacky.” Trevor groans as everyone cackles. Thankfully for him, they drop it after that. 

The next time he and Belle get to interact is after the ceremony — to which he couldn’t stop smiling watching one of his his long-time best friends marry the girl of his dreams, proudly watching at the front as they exchanged vows to love each other forever — when it’s time for pictures and Belle and the photographer are working together to direct everybody where they need to go. Belle stops directly in front of Trevor and focuses on fixing his boutonniere. Her tongue pokes out as she focuses on making it straight after several attempts. Even amongst a crazy day, he feels a sense of calm surrounding him. 

She huffs. “Why won’t your boutonniere stay still?”

He smiles down at her cheekily. “On my worst behavior.”

She snorts, before softening. “Thank you for earlier.” He knows she’s referencing when there was a minor mix up with the rings right before the ceremony was about to start and Trevor got it under control within 10 minutes. 

“Of course.”

She puts a piece of stray hair back on his head away from his forehead and he feels his heart flutter at her light touch. She smirks a bit. “On your best behavior today, actually. Like you promised.”

“Don’t count on it once the open bar hits.”

She laughs before moving on to fix Luke’s collar and Trevor gets a second to finally take a normal breath.

The next time he spots Belle is well into the reception, when the dance floor is full and the drinks are flowing and everyone is enjoying themselves. She’s nibbling on a slice of cake in the corner, eyes sweeping through the crowd with a small smile on her face

Trevor, who ditched his blazer after ‘Mr. Brightside’ brought the place down at least 7 songs ago, strolls over, hands in his slacks. “Haven’t seen you in a bit, Belle of the Ball.”

Her nose wrinkles. “No one’s called me that since I was 6.”

“A good wedding to end off on?” 

“I think so,” she smiles, staring at Amelie giggling as she pours a bottle of champagne into Jack’s mouth. “You having a good time?”

“The best. And I’ve been to a lot of weddings. You did beautifully.”

Belle waves him off. “All in a day’s work.”

“Do you still have fun at weddings? Since you have to work them?”

“Yes and no,” she admits. ‘Yes, because the end result is always worth it and seeing the happy couple live their day is always worth it. No because now when I go to weddings of my friends and family, it’s hard to turn my work brain off.” 

“Are you allowed to dance at your clients’ weddings?”

“I usually wouldn’t,” she tucks a piece of hair behind her ear.

“Make an exception for an old friend? To celebrate your last wedding in Michigan?”

She looks away for a second. “I don’t want to make Jack or Amelie feel weird.”

“Those two couldn’t care less. I’m sure they’d actually encourage it.”

He shoots what he hopes is an encouraging smile as he offers a hand. She looks at him for a couple of seconds before letting him help her up. 

It’s perfect timing as ‘Lover’ by Taylor Swift comes on and the once rowdy floor is calmer, with couples dancing with each other or families dancing with their kids. It’s a dance floor filled with love.

He guides Belle to put her arms around his neck as he carefully places his on her waist. 

“I told Connor about seeing you again.” She starts

“Oh yeah? What did he say?”

“He told me to tell you to hit him up the next time you’re in Chicago.”

“Was already planning on it.”

“He also said and I quote ‘if the next thing I hear is that Zegras is dating my sister, I will kill him.’” Trevor tips his head back in laughter as Belle chuckles. “He’s lucky I never dated any of his friends. He had some cute ones.”

“Was I one of them?”

“Nice try. I’m not blowing smoke up your ass, Trevor.” She says dryly. “Besides, I was kinda kidding. It’s not like you or any of his friends would’ve gone for me anyways.”

Now he’s confused. “What?” He thinks she’s joking, but from her face he realizes she’s not. “You do know that like, half of the hockey team had a crush on you, right?” She tips her head back in laughter as he squeezes her waist. “I’m not kidding. It annoyed Connor to no end.”

She snorts. “There’s no way.”

“Up to you whether to believe it or not. Just know that I never lie, Belle.”

She hums, and the way she’s looking at him makes his hands start sweating. He hopes she can’t feel it through her jumpsuit. “What you’ve done with your hockey career and everything, it’s really cool. I’m happy for you, Trevor. You deserve it.”

And he’s heard so many compliments about his career throughout his whole career, but it’s different coming from someone from his hometown. Someone who knew him before he left and knew what he was like before the NHL — before his days at the NTDP, even. Someone who has nothing to gain from complimenting him. 

“Thank you, Belle. That-that means a lot coming from you.”

She just smiles back before they fall into a comfortable silence and keep dancing. He twirls her and does an exaggerated dip that has her giggling. They keep dancing and dancing, even as the songs change tempo.

(Amelie, who’s resting her feet right by the dance floor, nudges Jack and gives him a look. She picks up a disposable camera and points it at them, before taking her phone and also taking a picture. She has an inkling that Trevor and Isabelle may want these someday)

“What are you up to before the season starts?” 

He shrugs. “I’m not sure, actually. I just need to be back in Anaheim for pre-season in three weeks.”

“Where are you staying?”

“Quinn and Jack have been letting me crash at their place. Don’t have an exact date of when I’m leaving yet.”

Belle snorts, though it’s paired with a smile that seems fond. “Still the same, huh, Trev?”

“What do you mean?”

“Your spontaneity used to stress my parents out, even back then. The reason they still liked you is because you could charm your way out of it.”

“I stressed Kurt and Susan out?” He says, actually worried.

“Oh, hush. It’s not that deep. My dad loves watching you play. There’s been many a family call where I hear a Ducks game on in the background. Unless it’s against the Rangers, of course, in which you don’t matter.”

“To be expected,” Trevor says, heart lifting at the fact that two people who used to drive him around so much still support him, even from afar. “Do they still live in Bedford?”

“Yup. Though with the amount of time my dad spends in White Plains golfing, you’d think they lived there now. He’s loving retirement, clearly.”

Trevor laughs. “I’ll have to hit up Kurt when I’m back for a couple rounds. Does Susan still make the best apple pie?”

“Yup. And everyone still raves about it when she brings it to parties.” 

“You think she’d make me a slice?”

“She’d bake you three pies and send you home with them to Julie and Gary.”

He grins. “Never knew little Belle was this sassy.”

“Because you wasted all your time with Connor.” She shoots back with a laugh. 

(Honestly, he thinks as he twirls her again, maybe she’s right. Who knows what could’ve been if he had seen Belle as more than just Connor’s quieter, talented sister.)

“You said you’re leaving next week?”

“Yeah. Just need to sort out some boxes to move to storage before driving back to New York.”

“You’re driving all the way back to Bedford?”

She laughs at his slight disbelief. “Well, yeah. It’s only a 10 hour drive.”

Suddenly, an idea pops into Trevor’s head, and before he can overthink it, he blurts it out. “What if I came with you?” She blinks, and he forges on. “I mean, I don’t have much going on and it’d be nice to go home before pre-season. I’ll help you load your car and pay for your gas and meals and-”

“Trevor, I-are you sure? You don’t have to…we literally just reconnected after not seeing each other for over a decade.”

“I know I don’t have to do anything,” he says, now trying everything to convince her. “If I’m overstepping, you can tell me and I’ll immediately lay off. But it just seems like…maybe some company could be nice. And we could switch off driving too.”

She bites her lip and tilts her head curiously, trying to find something in his face. It only took her a couple of seconds to chuckle. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but sure. Why not? Come join me on my drive back home.”

He lights up, grinning widely. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“When are you planning on leaving?”

“Monday.”

In two days. Perfect.

“This is gonna be so fun. Just you wait.”

“I don’t doubt it. Fun seems to always follow you wherever you go.”

He has to let her go, since she has some last things to do as the wedding planner. He kisses her cheek quickly before he leaves the reception, to which Quinn raises an eyebrow at but doesn’t say anything. The next morning, during the quick and informal thank you breakfast for the bridal party at a nearby, fancy-ish brunch place, Jack throws him under the bus (“Saw you getting pretty comfortable with Isabelle yesterday,”) and he reveals their plan for the next day. 

It might be one of the most TV show worthy reactions from every single person, bridesmaid and groomsmen. Luke chokes on his mimosa, Quinn shakes his head, Alex blinks, Nico has a shit-eating grin on his face, Jack smirks and Cole lets out a bark of laughter. The girls have all been filled in and equally have similar reactions. Amelie immediately says “you’re joking,” Michelle, at the same time as Amelie, says “ain’t no way,” Kaia, like Alex, just blinks. Nicole and Sarah’s jaws drop wide open, Annemarie starts cackling and Isla drops her fork. 

“What?” Trevor responds, munching on his bacon. “Why all the reactions?”

“Z, are you sure about this?” Quinn asks, ever the voice of reason.

“Yes? It’s just a drive. Everyone needs a car buddy for that long of a drive. Gives me an excuse to go home too.”

“Trevor,” Amelie starts. “I think we’re all just a bit confused because this is…not that we don’t like Isabelle! She’s wonderful. But this just seems out of the blue.”

Jack snorts. “There’s nothing confusing about this at all.” Everyone, Trevor included, turns to look at the new groom, who just shrugs while taking a sip of his coffee. “He likes her.”

“For real?”

“Oh my.”

“Okay, Z! Atta boy.”

“Haven’t you not seen her for like, 10 years?”

“Have you liked her this whole time?”

“That’s crazy.”

“Woah, woah, woah.” Trevor says above everyone’s exclamations. He waits until everyone’s settled. “I don’t like her. Not like that, at least. She’s just…I don’t know. It was good to see her again after so long. It felt like going back to old times. Simpler times.”

“It’s giving childhood friends to lovers,” Michelle says, making everyone laugh. Trevor rolls his eyes again and the subject is dropped. 

Jack volunteers to drive Trevor to Belle’s before him and Amelie’s flight to Greece tonight for their honeymoon. He doesn’t leave Quinn and Jack’s place without chirps from every single person still there, gathering their things and cleaning up. He makes sure to leave with giving Amelie a tight hug and a fond kiss on her cheek before playfully glaring at everyone else as he leaves.

He climbs into the passenger seat. “You don’t think I’m crazy?”

“We’ve known each other since we were 16, Z.” Jack says, starting the car. “Nothing you do fazes me anymore.”

Trevor just hums, staring at one of his dearest friends who is now a husband. “Congrats, Jacky. I know I’ve said it a lot recently, but I’m really happy for you.”

A small smile spreads across Jack’s face, as he automatically goes to touch his wedding ring. “Thanks, man.” Silence falls between them. “Did you ever, even just the slightest, like Isabelle as more than a friend? And be honest with me.”

“No,” Trevor replies honestly. “I always knew she was kind and thoughtful, but she was always just Connor’s little sister and kept to herself and her own friends most of the time.”

“And now? Do you like her now?”

“I don’t know,” Trevor replies honestly. If Jack is shocked, he doesn’t show it. Trevor clears his throat, “We haven’t seen each other in over 10 years. I don’t know her enough anymore to know if I like her.”

Jack just hums. “Look, I…”

“You what?” Silence. “Jack.”

“Amelie and I got pretty close with Isabelle beyond her being our wedding planner. Maybe it’s because she’s close to our age or just easy to get along with. I think…she never told us directly, but I think something happened, Z.”

“What do you mean something happened?”

“Well, I wasn’t there, but her and Amelie went out for casual drinks once to plan some stuff out and Amelie was, you know, casually asking her about relationships and if she ever dreamed of her own wedding, and she got super…not defensive. But Amelie said it was like a switch turned on. All she said is that at some point she did, but she’s not at that point of her life anymore, and then she immediately changed the topic. It’s none of my business, I get that, but she’s also my friend, Z. Just…look out for her, okay?”

“Of course I will,” Trevor promises as Jack slows down in front of Belle’s house. They both climb out of the car and Trevor grabs his backpack, duffle and garment bag from the backseat.

“Thanks for driving.” Trevor embraces his friend in a tight hug.

“Anytime,” Jack says. “Thanks for everything this last week. And just in general. I love you.”

“Love you too, man. Have fun on your honeymoon.”

Jack smiles. “Thank you. You two drive safe, eh? Let Amelie and I know when you're back in New York.”

Trevor just nods, before walking up to the front door and knocking. Within seconds, Belle opens the door with a wide smile. She looks beyond Trevor’s shoulder and waves at Jack as he drives away.

“Hi!”

Trevor can’t help but smile at her energy. It’s infectious. “Hey, Belle. Are you sure you don’t mind letting me crash for the night? I can always get Quinn to come get me later.”

She opens the door wider to let him in. “It’s not a bother at all. As long as you’re good with sleeping on the floor.” He just waves her off, setting his duffle and backpack down and looking around at the barren household. “I would give you a tour, but there’s really not much to see anymore.”

“You need any help?”

She smiles at him sweetly. “I have some boxes in the garage that you could help me move?”

He’s eager to help, until he lifts the first box, grunting about how heavy it is. Belle just chuckles, because why else had she not moved these in her car yet? If she has a professional hockey player volunteering to help her move, then she might as well put him to use, right? Trevor just rolls his eyes, but he can’t help but let a smile peek through at hearing Belle’s giggles. Once the car is packed (it takes longer than usual, as they stand out in the driveway and in the garage inbetween moving, chirping at each other and catching up), they realize it’s getting close to dinner time especially if they want to get an early start in the morning. Trevor asks what she wants to have (“as your last night living in the state of Michigan”) and she lights up, dialing up the place of her favorite Asian fusion takeout place. Trevor tries to hand over his card but she smacks it out of his hand, glaring at him while still on the phone. 

It’s a nice day outside, so they decide to venture out and have dinner on the front porch that she’s going to miss very much, leaning their backs against the panels of the house, sitting a comfortable 4 feet apart, Trevor’s knees pulled up and Belle with her legs outstretched and ankles crossed. He watches as she looks out at the sunset painting the quiet residential street, which is even more stunning than usual. If you listen closely, you can hear the sounds of kids gleefully screaming and dogs barking here and there. For a moment, Trevor feels like he’s intruding as Belle continues staring out, lost in her own world. Her focus only shifts a few minutes later when a car rolls up with their take out, as she jumps up and accepts the food with a gracious smile.

He helps her open boxes and suddenly there’s a generous spread of food between them as they start eating.

Trevor breaks the silence. “You never told me why.”

“Why what?”

“Why you’re leaving Michigan.”

She’s in the middle of stuffing a crab rangoon in her mouth. She chews and swallows for a couple of seconds. “It’s a long story.”

“I have nothing but time if you want to share.”

“I lied. It’s not really a long story. Just a sad one. That’s just my go-to when people ask.”

“You don’t have to lie to me. Ever. But you also don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

She lets out a deep sigh. “I was supposed to get married earlier this year.”

He blinks. Once. twice. And he’s speechless for once in his life. She barrels on. 

“Nate and I…I met him at UMich my junior year. I had full plans to leave Michigan right after college. Not that I don’t love it here, but I just wanted to go home. But he got an offer here after graduation and I found a gig working for a great wedding planner so I stayed. And it was good. The brief stint in Santa Ana I mentioned was because of his job, so we moved out there. But I really didn’t mind. I actually really enjoyed California.” She picks at her fingernails, “He proposed to me the beginning of last year, a week before we were gonna move back to Michigan. And I was happy. Really happy. So many years I had been planning other people’s weddings and I was finally going to have my own with someone I loved.”

“Belle, you don’t have to-”

She waves him off. “The day of our cake tasting, we were running late and he was in the shower and I grabbed his phone to put in my bag. And there was a text that flashed on my lock screen. ‘Missed you, baby. See you tonight’ and that was it. He had been cheating on me for almost a year. I moved out that night and crashed with a friend for a few weeks before finding this place. Grabbed my shit when I knew he was gone during the day at work. Canceled all of the deposits. Gave the ring back.” She chuckles, albeit sadly. “Funny. The week after I found out, I had my first consultation with Amelie and Jack and honestly, throwing myself into their wedding planning may have saved me, not that they know that. Anyways, yeah. That’s why I’m leaving Michigan. I honestly would’ve done it sooner but I had to stick it out for those two. They deserved it.”

Trevor’s silent for a couple more moments. “Promise me something.”

“What?”

“If we see him out and about, point him out so I can kick his ass.”

Her chuckle comes out broken but genuine. “Connor was real close when I told him. I was afraid he’d just start driving here. So you’d have to get behind him in line.”

“Gladly,” he scoots closer to her and offers an arm. She collapses into his side. “God, Belle. I’m so sorry. No one deserves that, least of all you.”

She sniffles. “It’s okay.”

“No, Belle. It’s not okay. What an asshole.” He can feel tears on his shirt and he starts rubbing her back in soothing circles. “You deserve someone to love you just as much as you love them. Someone to put you above all, who views your love and presence as a privilege. Because it is a privilege. I would know.”

She snorts, still sniffling. “You made fun of me all the time when we were younger.”

“Nah ah ah. Connor did. I didn’t. And that doesn’t mean I didn’t know how lovely you were even back then. Why do you think Connor and I were so against you going on a date with that guy…what was his name?”

“Trent.”

“Yeah. Trent. First of all, just sounds like a douchebag.”

“And Trevor is so much better?”

“Second, because he was an ass. We didn’t terrorize you about it just because. We terrorized you about it because we knew he had cheated on his ex-girlfriend.”

“Maybe if you had ever met Nate, you could’ve sniffed out his bullshit right away. Took me around 6 years to figure it out.”

“You’ve always had good judgment, Belle. No need to blame yourself when you did nothing wrong.”

“Did I though?” She whispers. “Do nothing wrong, I mean. What if-what if I was working too much or I wasn’t attentive enough or I didn’t-”

Trevor shakes his head adamantly. “Belle, no. Stop. Absolutely not. You did enough. You were enough. I’m not gonna sit here and let you pick apart yourself unfairly. You stayed in Michigan for him. You moved to Santa Ana for him. You gave all you had. And he’s the one who fucked it all up. That’s not on you.”

She signs, a bit defeated but musters a small smile. “Thanks, Trevor.”

“Of course.” He stuffs a piece of sushi in his mouth.

She shoots him a small smile that has him swallowing roughly. “Nonetheless, I’m really happy we ran into each other. It’s been nice to have a slice of home back in my life again.”

Trevor just smiles, staring into her warm eyes. “Me too.”

…..

It’s hour two into the 10 hour drive when she breeches the subject again. 

“Connor never liked him.” Trevor turns to look at Belle, who has one hand on the wheel casually. He automatically turns the music down as she continues. “He tried to get along with him, for my sake. But Connor was never sold. I always thought it was just him being a protective older brother. When I asked why, he always just gave some vague answer. Didn’t like his vibe, or whatever. It’s been hard not to agonize over now. If I should’ve just listened to him from the start.” Trevor doesn’t know what to say, but just faces her fully so she knows that he’s listening. She lets out a heavy breath as she puts her sunglasses atop her head. “I never asked. How’s your love life?”

Trevor snorts and the playfulness is back in the air again. “Well, not married like Connor is. I’ve had a couple things here or there. Clearly nothing that’s stuck.”

“Any particular reason why?”

He shrugs, suddenly feeling a bit small even though he knows that’s not her intention whatsoever. “I think when people date me, they don’t necessarily want all of me, you know? They want the jokester and the charmer. They don’t want the shifts in mood or the obsession of figuring out why I’m in a scoring drought or the insecurities.”

Belle hums sympathetically. “I think you just haven’t found the right one yet.”

“You sound like Quinn.”

She laughs. “From the small amount of interactions I’ve had with him, I’d say that sounds pretty on brand.” She shrugs. “You have time though. We all do. If that’s something you even want.”

“What? Marriage?”

“Yeah.”

“I do, I think. Want that, I mean. It’s just…hard. And scary. The thought of giving someone all of you? That’s giving them a lot of power.”

“I get it,” she says. “God, I really get that.”

“Is marriage not something you want anymore?”

She sighs. “I don’t know. I think I still do. It’s just…it’s still too soon, you know? And I don’t know if I have the energy to, like you said, give someone all of me again. I got hurt once. I don’t know if I can afford that again.”

“Well, for what it’s worth, I think you’re one of the best people I’ve ever known. So anybody would be lucky to love you.”

And shit, that kinda slipped out. His heart starts racing as she looks at him briefly in surprise. “That’s…that’s very kind of you, Trevor. Probably too big of a compliment.”

“Not too big of a compliment,” he automatically responds, digging himself into a deeper hole that he can’t even decipher. If he thinks about it too hard, he would realize that this is the most open he’s been with someone outside of his tight circle in awhile. And a week ago, she hadn’t even crossed his mind.

“You know, you were my favorite out of Connor’s friends back then.” 

A pang of satisfaction touches his heart and he’s grinning. “Yeah?”

Belle rolls her eyes at his slight smugness. “Don’t let that get to your head.”

“Too late.”

“I don’t know. I just..liked how friendly you were to everyone you encountered. I don’t think there was ever a time when you came over and didn’t strike up a conversation with me. Even though I was quiet and shy, you still always treated me like a person.”

“I feel like that’s the bare minimum, no?”

She shrugs. “Now that we’re in our late twenties, sure. But back when we were 12, 13 years old? You’d be surprised.” 

He watches her drum her fingers against the steering wheel, the patterned bandana in her ponytail swinging with the wind, wispies from her ponytail framing her face. If he looks hard enough, he can see 10 year old Belle sitting on the sofa in the Holloway’s living room, a sketchbook on her lap and a glass of apple juice next to her. If he listens hard enough, he can hear her humming to ‘Love Story’ as he leaves Connor’s room to walk past her room in the hallway to the bathroom. Maybe he can even smell her vanilla body spray that used to always filter out of her room if he breathes in deeply enough. 

All he can see and hear and feel is his childhood self. Looking at her makes him feel blissfully young, a bit naive and incredibly out of his depth. 

She casts him a casual glance. “You good?”

Trevor grins easily. “Never better.” 

It’s hour five after stopping for lunch. Trevor’s behind the wheel now and her legs are up on the seat with her as she stares out the window, her chin on her knees. He has an urge to put a hand on her knee. To comfort her or to let her know that he’s there, he doesn’t know. But he refrains. 

“Belle?”

“Hm?” 

“Can I ask you a question?”

She turns to face him, chin still on her knees. “Should I be nervous?”

He snorts. “No. I’m just a dumb hockey player. What could I possibly say that would catch you off guard?”

“You’re not dumb. And plenty. You knew me when I was 13 and in my awkward phase. That’s longer than most of the people I’ve seen in the last five years. What’s your question?”

Okay, Trevor can dissect all of that later. ““Are you going to miss Michigan?”

She lets out a thoughtful hum. “I’ll miss parts of it. I loved going to college at Michigan, made a lot of friends from college and work. And I grew up a lot here. Not to mention, Michigan’s almost unfairly beautiful. I’ll also weirdly miss my porch a lot. But also, it’s tough driving around with thoughts of Nate at every corner. Because he’s present in practically all the memories I have here. So I’m glad I’m leaving because I know I need to.” He turns to her quickly and sees her lip quiver. Almost as if he had imagined it, she offers a small smirk. “That’s the question you were so afraid to ask me?”

He sputters out a laugh. “What does that mean?” He asks defensively. 

She shakes out her hair to redo her ponytail. "You never had a problem asking anything to anyone back in the day.”

“Things change.”

She pauses for a split second before tying up her hair and looking at him. “They do. I’m sorry for assuming they don’t.”

Hour eight and they’ve been in a comfortable silence for a bit now. One can only talk for so long, even someone as chatty as Trevor. Belle’s behind the wheel again and her phone is plugged in playing music. The playlist he had put on initially has cycled through and without asking, he plugged her phone in and shuffled a random playlist of hers.

He vaguely recognizes Taylor Swift’s voice and looks to see what song it is. ‘The Archer.’ His ears perk up as he listens to her softly sing along, and then, he’s actually listening to the words. 

Belle’s eyebrows are pinched together as she sings about people seeing right through her and how all the king’s horses and all the king’s men couldn’t put her together again. He wants to offer her a hand to squeeze, a touch for support, but he doesn’t. 

He clears his throat. “So. Santa Ana. What was your favorite part?”

She automatically grins. “All of it? I don’t know. I liked my job. I liked the area. I liked the weather. It felt like a breath of fresh air, in a way.”

“Would you consider moving back?”

“Maybe. I honestly haven’t really thought of anything but leaving Michigan recently.”

He stops asking her questions. He doesn’t want to keep bringing up the pain. 

By the time she rolls into the driveway of Trevor’s childhood home, it’s almost 8 pm. Almost as soon as she kills the engine, the front door opens, revealing both his parents. Julie runs out, only barely letting Belle step out of the car before throwing her arms around her. He smiles fondly as his mother puts her hands on Belle’s cheeks as the younger woman chuckles, before turning to Gary and giving him a quick hug as well. Trevor drags his stuff out of the trunk and shuts it, smiling to himself as he listens to his mother invite Belle and her parents over for dinner the next night and watching Belle nod enthusiastically. 

She then turns to him and it feels like someone has reached into his heart and punched it. She smiles. “Thanks for the company.”

He puts down his duffle and scoops her into a tight hug, only letting her go after giving her a soft kiss on the cheek. “Anytime. See you tomorrow?”

“See you tomorrow.”

(And if he catches his mom giving him an inquisitive look as they all watch Belle back out of the driveway, he doesn’t say anything)

Tomorrow comes and Trevor’s content with mostly being lazy, adjusting to being home and around his parents. It feels weird to be in these walls without Griffin and Ava, but then again, he’s sure it’s one-sided. He moved away when he was so young, leaving behind his supportive parents and his even-more-supportive siblings. They got used to Trevor not being around. 

He’s recapping Jack’s wedding to his father on the patio while his mom is preparing pies in preparation for the Holloways, the mouthwatering smell filtering through the screen door. He smiles as he recalls the week leading up when he went early and was roped into helping out, how beautiful Amelie looked and how he had never seen Jack that excited and happy before, not when he was drafted first overall, not when he won the Eastern Conference Final. He talks about how their vows made Trevor tear up and just how fun it was to celebrate two people he loves. He talks about reconnecting with Belle and briefly brushes over their drive back. He gives vague answers when his parents — mostly his mom — try to pry more, partially because it’s so much that he’s still trying to decipher it himself and partially because some of it isn’t his place to tell. 

An hour later, he can’t help but beam as Belle’s parents greet him similarly to how his greeted Belle the day before. He helps Susan bring in the pasta salad and shakes Kurt’s hand, his slight nerves settling as the first thing Kurt says is how proud of Trevor he is. Belle is the last one who walks through the door, listening to the moms talking animatedly in her ear. She’s wearing a pink floral maxi dress with a denim jacket over her shoulders and she’s glowing. He itches to give her a hug but just settles for a grin instead before turning his full attention to Kurt. 

It’s when the parents are filtering outside does he get a chance to say hello to her as they both hang back in the kitchen. She bumps her hip with his. “Long time no see.”

He pulls her into a side hug. “Hilarious. Want anything to drink before heading out there?”

She eyes the few bottles of wine in the mini wine cabinet. “White wine if it’s not too much of a hassle?”

He opens the fridge and grabs a wine glass. “My mom put a bottle in the fridge earlier. It’s her favorite, so if it’s bad, it’s not my fault.” She takes the glass from him graciously and he grabs a bottle of beer for himself as they both head outside. 

“It’s weird being here without Connor.”

“I was just thinking earlier how it’s weird being here without Griffin and Ava.”

“At least we have each other, right?”

He hums. “Good thing.” She then gets roped into a conversation with his father and he happily takes a backseat, answering when a question is directed towards him but perfectly content in watching her. 

(Julie and Susan, who had never really considered these two as a pair, nudge each other and exchange a few words, watching as Belle laughs while sipping her wine and Trevor just stares at her.

“She was supposed to get married last year. To a guy she met in college.”

Julie’s eyebrows shoot up. “Is that right?”

“Yup. Until she caught him cheating.”

Julie sighs. “I wish we could protect our kids from everything that could hurt them.”

“I do too.” Susan watches her daughter wistfully and lovingly. “She’s always thrown herself into work, But especially after the break-up. You have no idea how relieved I was when she told me she was coming home.”

“Does she know where she’s going next?”

“Not that I know of. For the first time in her life, she doesn’t know.”

“She’ll be okay,” Julie says confidently, rubbing her old friend’s shoulder. “I’ve never had any doubt about Belle.”

“But you had doubt in the others?” Susan teases as Julie snorts. “All our kids are doing well for themselves, but you have one who is the definition of achieving their childhood dream.”

Julie sighs thoughtfully, looking at Trevor. “He’s done well for himself, I think.”

“You think?”

Julie just smiles, clinking her glass against Susan’s.)

Meat is grilled, salads are tossed and food is eaten as the sun fades away. Sometime between sunset and when the sky becomes black, the fireplace is lit and the outdoor lamps are turned on. Trevor switched to water after his second beer, liver still trying to recover from the wedding festivities. 

Trevor finds Belle sitting by the edge of the pool with her feet dipped in, sandals to the side of her. Her hands are folded on her lap as she stares down, occasionally kicking her feet a bit to make the water ripple. He clears his throat so he doesn’t startle her. She looks up and her lips quirk up at seeing him, but they soon fall, as she turns back to the water and tilts her head to the side, taking a deep breath. 

Trevor licks his dry lips. “Come with me?”

“Where are we going?” She asks, accepting the hand he offers as she gets up and slips on her shoes, adjusting her dress. 

“You’ll see. We won’t be long.” Wordlessly, they go around the side of the house to go to the driveway. He catches his mom’s eye and just offers a small smile. Julie’s eyes flicker between him and Belle before she nods. Belle doesn’t say anything as Julie tosses her son the keys to her car, letting Trevor lightly tug her along by loosely intertwining their hands. He opens the passenger door for her and she gives him a grateful look as she slips in. 

He hasn’t been to his intended destination in at least five years, but he knows the route all the same, easily driving the seven minutes. He sneaks a glance or two at Belle as the minimal streetlights light her face aglow for a few seconds at a time. Before he overthinks it, he reaches out and grabs her hand gently, waiting for her to pull away. She doesn’t, instead lacing her hand with his and squeezing once. 

“I haven’t been here since I was in high school,” Belle says as Trevor kills the engine, the tranquility of the small lake and lookout everyone who grew up in Bedford called “Pink Sun” due to the incredibly beautiful sunsets one could see if they were lucky, no one knowing that it’s actual government name was. He’s almost confident that this specific lookout is private property, due to the string lights adorning the trees meticulously that seem to always be on, but whoever owns the property clearly doesn’t care. He would come in the summers from time to time with friends like Connor after he moved away for hockey, but he knows he didn’t experience it the same way as others did.

“Which tree did you have sex under?” Trevor asks as they get out of the car and open the trunk. He quickly fluffs up the two pillows his mom has in the car at all times and pulls the blanket over them both as they get comfortable.

She chuckles and Trevor immediately smiles at the sound. “Gross.”

“What? Isn’t that what people did?” She just lightly slaps him before they both fall into a comfortable silence again. She takes her hand from under the blanket and reaches out to find Trevor’s. He offers his hand immediately. It feels like the most natural thing in the world. 

She starts sniffling, and when he turns to her, concerned, he sees tears rushing down her face. He immediately wraps his arms around her and maneuvers her so that she’s crying into his chest. He tries to be steady for her shaking body, rubbing her back and muttering sweet nothings to assure that he’s here and she’s not alone. He places a couple of kisses on top of her head without thinking because there’s a split down the middle of his heart that’s widening everytime she whimpers.

She cries. The water ripples. Trevor holds her close. 

…..

The entire time Trevor’s back home, he doesn’t go more than a day without seeing Belle. They get ice cream, sitting in the chairs that haven’t been replaced in at least 30 years and giggling as the ice cream drips over their fingers. They go back to Pink Sun to watch the sunset. Because this whole month has him feeling nostalgic, he goes back to his old rink in Stamford and she tags along, indulging him as he pulls up his hoodie over himself as they watch the last 15 minutes of a game the AAA team that Trevor used to be a part of is playing in. Some of the front office staff is still the same and they all immediately beam when seeing Trevor. He chokes up a bit when talking to some of them. He’s missed it here more than he thought he would. 

After training sessions, he just shows up to her house without any warning. They take a lot of drives, passing by landmarks they know well and ones they don’t know at all. They spend hours chatting on the porch of her parents’ place, waving at neighbors as they walk by and petting their dogs. She doesn’t cry in his chest again, but there are stretches of silence where she craves a comforting shoulder. Trevor doesn’t hesitate to offer his. 

He learns more about why she enjoys wedding planning and her time in Michigan. She learns more about how his goals have changed the longer he’s been in the league and his time in Anaheim. They both talk about times they feel like they’ve had their heart ripped to pieces and he finds himself admitting things he’s never admitted out loud to anyone — not Jamie, not Jack, not Cole, not Alex. 

He wonders to himself how he’s lived this long without her in his life. 

The day Trevor has to leave for Anaheim, she offers to drive him to LaGuardia, smiling as he hugs his parents goodbye in the driveway, promising to see them soon when the Ducks are playing in New York. 

She shuts the trunk at the departures drop-off area with a wistful smile. “I’ll miss you, Trev.”

“I’m gonna miss you too.” And then he practically manhandles her into a tight hug, his chin resting on her shoulder, rubbing her back before pulling away. “If you ever wanna come out to Anaheim, there’s always a place for you to stay.”

“I’ll think about it.” With most people, it’s an empty promise. But with Belle, he knows she means it. “Good luck this season. Score some goals, yeah?”

He rolls his eyes, arms still around her waist. “Don’t be a stranger, okay? You have my number. Use it.”

She nods, tilting her head to the side. “Okay.” She presses a kiss on his cheek before he forces himself to let go. She sticks her hands in her jean pockets. “Text me when you land?”

“Of course. Bye, Belle. I’ll see you soon.”

“Bye. Travel safe.”

Trevor forces himself not to look back as he walks through the automatic doors. 

…..

The first roadie of the season includes a stop in Chicago, and Trevor doesn’t hesitate to text Connor. He feels the familiar pang in his heart again, guilty that he hasn’t reached out until now. But when he and Connor meet up for a quick coffee the morning of the game, it washes away quickly. They fall right back to where they were when they were 16, even though they’re both over a decade older and a bit wiser now. Trevor practically shoves two tickets for the game for him and his wife, even though Connor is trying to bat his hand away. 

After the game, the three of them go to dinner and he gets introduced to Ashley, Connor’s wife, who is peppy and fun and he loves seeing her and Connor together. After dinner, Ashley excuses herself to go home as the two of them migrate to a nearby pub. They have years to catch up on. 

“Belle tell you about the break-up?”

Trevor scoffs, taking a hefty sip of his beer. “Yeah. Fucking asshole.”

“Took the words right out of my mouth. When she decided to get the fuck out of Michigan, I was relieved.”

“Yeah?”

Connor sighs. “Yeah. I know she says she stayed because of the Hughes wedding, but I also think it’s because she had a hard time letting go. Which, you know, who can blame her, right?” Trevor just nods sympathetically. Connor leans back, eyes flickering elsewhere for a moment. “Thanks, by the way.”

“What for, man?”

“For looking out for her.” There’s a hint of relief in Connor’s tone. “She’s always been independent, I’m sure you remember. And she has a hard time letting people know that she’s struggling, even if we all see it and want to help. Whatever you did, thank you, man. It’s appreciated.”

Trevor bites his tongue. He wants to say that he doesn’t have to thank him for being a good friend, but Connor is adamant. So Trevor just smiles.

…..

The season’s in full swing, but Trevor makes the effort to keep in contact with Belle frequently. Whether it’s sending a meme or calling on his way to practice, Belle becomes a part of his daily life. 

A month in Bedford now and he can tell she’s getting a bit restless. She’s taken up crocheting, which Trevor loves to make fun of her for. Until he finds a little box on his doorstep and opens it to find a crocheted Wild Wing. He hands it on his rearview mirror in the car. He doesn’t fully realize she’s watching his games until he sees a text from her after a game against New Jersey (“Don’t let Jack hang the win over your head too much. That slapshot was insane.”) and that has him grinning much too widely for someone who just lost.

On Thanksgiving Day, after one of the guys’ families hosts a Friendsgiving for the whole team, he’s back at his place on the couch when she calls him. 

Her face comes up on the screen and he has to smile. “Oh. Hey.” she says gently. “I didn’t actually expect an answer.”

“You just caught me. I just got home from Friendsgiving with the team. Happy Thanksgiving, by the way.”

“Happy Thanksgiving.”

He doesn’t recognize her background. “Where you at?”

“My aunt’s. They’re all watching the game in the basement so I decided to take a break up in the living room.”

“Good food?”

“I’m fucking stuffed,” she admits, making Trevor laugh. “I’m not bad in the kitchen, but nothing beats a good homemade turkey and stuffing.”

“I feel you. So what’s been happening? Haven’t called in a bit.”

“It’s been, like, a week, Trev.”

“Exactly. A bit.”

She rolls her eyes, before leaning back further into the couch. “Actually, I do have news. Kinda.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I, uh, heard back from two people about a job. My old boss from Santa Ana said there’s a spot open for me if I want it. And then my boss in Michigan recommended me to someone in Manhattan, and she called me yesterday and also said I had a job if I wanted it.”

He grins. “Belle. That’s amazing! Congratulations. I’m not surprised though. I know firsthand how damn good you are at your job.”

He sees her blush slightly and he thinks it’s adorable. She twirls her hair around her finger. “Thanks. I’m, yeah. It’s pretty exciting. I’m excited to get back into it again.”

“So. California and New York. Those are two pretty different places.”

She sighs. “Yeah. That’s partially why I called you. Kinda want to get another opinion.”

Before he can stop himself, he snorts. “You’re telling me you haven’t made a pros and cons list already? Don’t think I don’t remember you forcing me to make one when I was deciding if I should go to Avon.”

She tilts her head to the side. “You remember that?”

“There’s not a lot of memories I have from growing up here that don’t have you in them. Of course I remember.”

She bites her lip but Trevor can see the smile peeking through. She clears her throat. “I do. Have a list.”

“So you’ve already made your decision.”

She opens her mouth. Then closes it. “Yes and no. I really do want your opinion, Trevor.”

“Floor’s all yours.”

“I love New York, but I don’t know if I can stay here. If I go back to Santa Ana, is it going to be like Michigan again? I don’t know what Santa Ana is like without Nate.”

“No,” he responds immediately. “It won’t be.”

“How are you so sure?”

“Because Santa Ana is yours, Belle. No one else’s. You said it yourself. You loved your time there. If Michigan doesn’t feel like home anymore and New York feels too much like your past self, California is waiting for you.”

A couple seconds of silence before a small chuckle erupts from Belle. “You take a creative writing class at BU or something? That was actually eloquent.”

If he were next to her, he’d shove her off the couch. He just huffs as she keeps laughing. “My point is, is that you can make fresh starts in familiar areas. Plus, not that I have anything to do with this, but Santa Ana is pretty damn close to Anaheim.”

“Knew you’d say that.”

“I mean, can you blame me? ” He leans back on the couch. “I don’t think you’re incapable of moving on. I think, in a way, you aren’t ready to, and that’s why Santa Ana scares you. You have to and are inevitably going to make new memories wherever you are, but you just have to do it. Take the leap. Dive in the deep end. Whatever the fuck they say.”

And well, that came out a bit harsher than Trevor intended, if the slight flinch on Belle’s face is an indication. But she sighs, “You’re right. I know you’re right. Fuck, Trev. Maybe I shouldn’t have quit and stayed in Michigan.”

“Stop,” he says. “We’re not doing that. Now you have to come out to California. Who else is gonna tell you to get your head out of your ass?” His goal is achieved as she laughs. “Seriously though. Whatever choice you make, you have my full support.”

Four days later, he sees that Belle left him a voicemail in the middle of the game. She’s coming to Santa Ana. Trevor starts organizing the guest room.

…..

Three days into the new year and Trevor finds himself running out of morning skate to drive to LAX. Belle’s staying with him while she looks for her own place, at Trevor’s insistence. He told her she can stay as long as she needs. He hopes she takes that offer seriously. 

He rolls up to the arrivals terminal and idles his car, seeing a text from Belle indicating that she’s still waiting to pick up her luggage. He leans back in his seat, taking a deep breath adjusting the baseball cap on his head, bopping along to the latest playlist that he made for this season.

He’s about to do a drum solo on his steering wheel when he spots Belle come out of the double doors, rolling two suitcases, backpack on her back and a tired but genuine smile on her face. He immediately leaps out of the car, running to lift her up in a hug, making her chuckle. 

“Hey Trevor.”

He kisses her cheek before putting her down. “Belle of the Ball. How was your flight?”

“Good. Long,” she reaches to get her suitcases and he waves her off, lifting her suitcases easily into his trunk as she slips into the passenger seat. She sags into the seat and turns to him with a bigger smile as he turns on the engine. “It’s really good to see you.”

He reaches to ruffle her hair to ignore the funny feeling in his stomach. “Missed you too.”

They catch each other up on what’s been happening since the last time they talked, so only really the last week. Once he turns off the highway, he opens the windows and he periodically glances at Belle, who’s leaning her head on the seatbelt strap as the houses blur by. She tucks her hair behind both her ears and Trevor feels his throat start to close up. 

“Hungry?”

“A bit.”

“Enough to wait a bit so I can cook something up?”

She looks toward him in subdued delight. “You cook?”

“Decently, I’d say.”

“What are you gonna make me?”

Whatever you want, he thinks. “I make a pretty good steak.”

“Well, I’m not gonna say no to a personal chef.”

“Don’t get used to it,” he points at her jokingly. She laughs, but honestly, Trevor doesn’t hate the idea. 

Belle’s car got shipped yesterday to Trevor’s place the week prior, so two days later, when Belle starts work and Trevor has to go to morning skate, they leave the house at the same time after cups of coffee and climb into their own cars, Belle wearing a red sleeveless blouse and white jeans and Trevor wearing a Duck t-shirt and shorts. 

Before she can fully get into her car, Trevor runs around and squeezes her, making her squeal. “Good luck today. You’re gonna kill it.”

“Thanks Trevor. Have fun at morning skate.”

“Are you still cool with a couple of the guys coming over for dinner?”

“It’s your house, dude. You can invite over whoever you want.”

“It’s also your home too,” Trevor insists.

She rolls her eyes fondly. “It’s not. But of course you can have your friends over. I’m excited to meet them.” She gets in her car, but before she shuts the door, she puts her head out. “Do you mind grabbing some orange juice? I think you’re running out and I drink more of it than you do. Just Venmo request me.”

“Yeah, I gotcha. Won’t Venmo request you though,” she opens her mouth to protest but he just taps the roof of her car twice. “We can talk about splitting stuff later. Bye now!”

“Dick,” she mutters as she shuts her door. He chuckles. He lets her back out of the driveway first.

That night, Mason, Jamie and Leo come over and the four of them are finishing up cooking dinner when Belle walks in. A bit flushed and sweaty, she’s nothing but smiles as she slips off her shoes, putting down her bag and introducing herself. She hugs each of them with a sweet smile before finally reaching Trevor. She hugs him like she did with the other three, but he thinks she holds on a bit longer. He smacks a friendly kiss on her cheek, but he catches Jamie’s eye as she pulls away and he knows he’s going to absolutely be grilled about this tomorrow. 

Dinner’s practically ready and the guys just shoo Belle away to the dining table, Leo pouring out a glass of wine for her. They chat and swap stories over chicken alfredo and salad, and Trevor’s content sitting back and watching two different parts of his life come together, not even jumping in to defend himself that much when she recalls some shenanigans from Jack’s wedding. Sure, they at least know of Jack, Alex, Cole and other various members of the NTDP crew who knew him when he was 17 and stupid, but Belle’s known him since they were children. Whether she — or Trevor even — realizes it or not, Belle and Trevor know each other in the purest way. The way only childhood allows, where filters of judgment, insecurities and expectations cease to exist. 

Even with almost two decades lost in translation, Trevor thinks, in a way, Belle might know him better than most. And he might know her better than most.

Which is why he can sense that an hour after dinner, that Belle is exhausted, so he takes the initiative and the guys immediately pick up on it, bidding Belle goodbye and making her promise that she’ll come to a game soon. Once the door shuts, Trevor goes to start washing the dishes, batting her hand away when she tries to help. 

“Trevor. You cooked. I’ll clean.”

“Nope. Go to take a shower. You’ve had a long day.”

“You have too.”

He waves her off. “Go. I got this.” Her shoulders sag in defeat, but she shoots him a thankful smile and heads to shower. 

He’s just about finishing up the dishes and wiping down the counter when she walks back in, an old Michigan t-shirt and flannel pants on. She has her book in her hands but comes by next to him. “Are you sure you don’t need help cleaning up?”

He puts the kitchen towel back on the hook and swings an arm around her shoulder, bringing her against his side. “I’m sure. Where you unwinding for the night?”

“Probably the living room, if you don’t mind?”

“Belle. My home is your home. I mean it. I’ll probably join you after I shower.”

And he does, coming back in afterwards with only the living room light being on. He sees Belle curled up on the couch, engrossed in her book as one of the candles he rarely uses is lit up on the table in front of her. The air smells faintly of pine. 

“Do you mind if I put on some football? I’ll put the volume low.”

She hums. “Not at all.” With her feet in his lap, blanket tucked over both of them, Trevor thinks that he could get used to this. 

…..

Two weeks later, they’re finishing up their takeout when Belle clears her throat. “So I found a place that seems promising.”

Trevor stiffens. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s about 10 minutes from here. Just renting for now, which isn’t ideal. But it’s so soon, you know? I don’t wanna buy yet.”

Trevor understands the latter part, absolutely. But he’s still stuck on the first part of what she said. “When would you think of moving out?”

“At the start of the month.”

“That’s next week.”

She grimaces, washing their utensils. “Yeah. I just…I want to get out of your hair as soon as possible.”

“Belle,” his voice lowers into a serious tone that doesn’t come out of him that often. It works, because it gets Belle to look at him. “If you want to move out, I can’t stop you. It’s ultimately your decision. But I love having you here. So please don’t…don’t think you have to move out to get out of my hair. Because you don’t. I’d love for you to stay and live with me. Full time.”

Belle swallows, searching for something in his face. “You mean that?” She whispers. 

“Of course I do.” He pushes on. “And you know I’m a shitty liar.”

She chuckles as she finishes washing the dishes. On her way to the bathroom, she stops and just hugs Trevor. He welcomes it with a big smile. “You 100% sure?”

“Yes.”

She pulls away with a smile. “Okay. Your porch is better anyways.” 

Trevor laughs, his mind briefly flashing to an image of this place that had been only his for so long one day becoming theirs, with her throw pillows on the couch and fairy lights on the porch and photos of their friends and loved ones hanging on the walls, some they share, some they don’t.

…..

Trevor fully admits it to himself when Christmas rolls up and Belle refuses to go back to New York. 

(“There’s no way I’m leaving you alone for Christmas, Trev,” she insists with an eye roll. “We’ll start our own tradition here. It’ll be great.”)

He doesn’t even try to hide his fondness as he watches Belle teetering at the edge of a chair to hang up lights around their living room. Some random Christmas playlist he had queued up at Belle’s prodding is playing through his speaker, and he doesn’t think “Baby, It’s Cold Outside” deserves the grin plastered on his face. 

Belle, though. She might deserve it. Be the origin of it, really. 

They make too many cookies that they'll have to gift his teammates and her coworkers just so they don’t end up eating all of them. They have holiday movies on in the background for three days straight, some they pay attention to, some they just leave on for background noise. On Christmas morning, after two cups of coffee on Belle’s end to deal with Trevor’s incessant rambling, they’re sat in the front of their tree. The curtains are drawn, offering minimal lighting into their living room. Yet, the twinkling lights on the tree and around their living room paint Belle in the warmest of lights. The blue fluffy blanket wrapped around her shoulders only adds to her softness and Trevor has to excuse himself after they exchange presents to go in the bathroom. 

He splashes cold water in his face and stares at himself. He’s fully in fucking love. Shit. 

…..

After that realization, he does the only thing that makes sense to him. Two days later, on the way to practice, he calls Jack. As the phone rings, he thinks that he probably should’ve checked to see if the Devils were playing today, but he also couldn’t be bothered. 

Three rings later, Jack’s scratchy voice is projected through Trevor’s car. “Hello?”

“Hey dude.”

“You’re cutting into my pre-game nap. This better be fucking good.”

“I think I’m in love with Belle.”

Silence. A rustle on Jack’s end, before, “Jesus Christ. I knew Amelie should’ve taken the day off today.”

“Jacky,” Trevor practically whines. “Be helpful.”

“Give me a second to think and I will be,” Trevor stops at a light. “Dude. I mean, not completely out of left field. But in love love? That’s big. Considering you only reconnected, what, three months ago?”

“Yeah, I know. Am I being stupid? And I need you to be real with me and tell me if I am.”

“No.”

“I’m not being stupid?”

“No, you’re not being stupid. Z, I knew I wanted to marry Amelie, like, two months after I met her, and we weren’t even dating yet. You and Isabelle have known each other since you were kids.”

“Yeah, but we lost touch for over a decade.”

“Okay and? You spent a good amount of time together when you went back home, right? And she lives with you now, right?”

“She was the only one around at home, and we’ve been living together for maybe a month.”

“Dude, are you trying to convince yourself you are in love with her or that you’re not?”

Trevor shakes his head. “Sorry, sorry. Right.”

He hears Jack let out a sigh. “I know you’ve been burned in the past with relationships and stuff, but this is a good thing, okay? She’s a great person. Try not to freak out about it so much.”

“And do what instead?”

“I don’t know,” Jack says sarcastically. “Maybe tell her?”

“Absolutely not,” Trevor says. 

“Why not?”

Trevor’s about to tell him that Belle literally was supposed to be married a year ago but clamps his mouth shut. He’s not sure if Jack knows and that’s not his story to tell. “It’s just not a good idea.”

“Lame.”

“I’m gonna hang up and call literally anyone else.”

“Do it,” Jack challenges the empty threat, before softening. “Do you have any idea if she likes you back?”

“No,” Trevor says. “But I also haven’t been thinking about that because I don’t wanna…scare her off? I know she likes me as a friend, otherwise we wouldn’t be living together. But that’s probably all there is to it.”

“Maybe,” Jack says. “Or maybe you’re making assumptions. I’m not saying you have to do anything now, but you’re not stupid, Trev. Especially with stuff like this. And hey, at least you’re in love with someone as awesome as she is. Ooh, can you imagine you two getting married? It would be full circle!”

“Alright, that’s enough,” Trevor says as Jack chuckles. “Thanks, man. Seriously.”

“Anytime. And Z?” Trevor hums to tell Jack to go on. “Don’t beat yourself up so much. You don’t know until you ask.”

Those last two sentences echo through Trevor’s head for the rest of the day, even when he’s at practice and going through the drills. After so many years in the league, he usually always can leave his thoughts at the entrance of the rink and just focus on hockey. But not today. He can tell Troy wants to ask something, but he refrains. It’s not like a distracted Trevor appears often, and Trevor’s thankful his teammate doesn’t push. 

When the front door swings open that night and Belle calls out her greeting, Trevor is coming back from being outside the last few hours, where he sat and listened to the birds and just stared at the grass, lost in thought. 

Then Belle comes into view, gray sweater over a cream satin dress, tote bag on her shoulder and a tired but bright smile on her face, and Trevor’s not lost anymore. 

In fact, as she slides over to him in her socks across the hardwood floor and hugs him in greeting, immediately talking about what they should make for dinner tonight, Trevor’s never felt more sure of where he is and where he should be. 

…..

Trevor’s on a long roadie during Valentine’s Day, but he makes sure that he delivers flowers to the house before Belle has to get to work. He had spent an ungodly amount of time selecting which bouquet he wanted to send, and Jamie, the saint that he is, had only blinked when he saw what Trevor was looking at on his phone on the bus home from the game before Trevor could lock his phone. 

Imagine if it was Troy. Or Mason. Or fucking Leo, who’s just as much a menace as he was the first day Trevor met him. Everyone loves him and thinks he’s a darling, but Trevor knows better.

He ended up choosing a bouquet from Fresh Sends because the packaging looks sick with the newspaper and the bright colored box and the reviews are all high. Without hesitation, he had picked the largest bouquet, which he knew if Belle knew how much it cost, would probably kick him out of the house or something. But she doesn’t ever need to find out. On the bus, he had hastily typed out a custom note.

Belle, 

Happy Valentine’s Day!! Wish we could be watching shitty rom-coms together but I hope this makes up for it. Thankful to have you in my life again. See you when I get back!

Z

It’s not overly romantic, but he can’t exactly confess his love for her over a note when he’s across the country. If he ever confesses, he’s gonna tell her in person, not hide behind a note like a coward. 

He wakes up on February 14 in a hotel room with a bleary smile as he wipes the sleep away from his face. 

Belle of The Ball

*picture of the flowers*

Trevor!!! these are so so beautiful thank you

You really didn’t have to

Good luck against the Rangers tonight! And tell your parents (and mine) that i said hello❤️

Trevor nets two goals and an assist. He’s on top of the world. 

…..

He’s pleasantly surprised to see that he has an incoming call from Amelie on his way home from the rink a week later. 

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite Hughes.”

Amelie chuckles. “Quinn’s gonna be devastated.”

“Quinner has nothing on you.”

“Flatterer,” she says dryly. 

“What’s up?”

“Jack told me. About you and Isabelle.”

Trevor almost snorts. When he first met Amelie, way back when they were in their early twenties, she had been way more hesitant on giving her opinion among Jack’s oldest friends. But with time, her sarcasm and vivacity came out, and while Trevor had been initially surprised and amused, it made sense. Anyone who would choose to spend their life with Jack Hughes has to be able to hold their own purely to rival his constant need for attention.

“Did he now?”

“You’re the worst. I’m not gonna tell you the same stuff he did, which by the way, I’m actually pretty impressed by. From the recap he gave me, he actually said some useful stuff. But I will say something that he forgot to tell you.”

“And what is that?”

“That you’re wonderful, Trevor.”

That’s not at all what he was expecting to come out of the photographer’s mouth. All he can muster out is an “Oh?”

“Yeah. And obviously Jack believes the same thing. You know that. But you’re such a lovely guy, Trevor. I’ve known that since the day we met, don’t get me wrong. But I-I’ve talked to Isabelle a few times since the wedding, and she always brings you up. And it’s always positive.”

“What does this have to do with my feelings for her?”

“Do you feel like maybe you feel like you’re not good enough for her? Is that partially why you’re hesitating on telling her? Take out the fact that she was in a long relationship before and broke off an engagement.”

He blinks. “She told you about the engagement thing?”

“Yeah. She came out to Jersey to grab dinner with Jack and I, like, two weeks before she moved to California and told us then. That’s not the point.”

He doesn’t remember Belle mentioning that. But like Amelie said, not the point. “I-I don’t know. Maybe.”

“Trevor. You’re one of the best people I know.”

“That can’t be true,” he tries to protest. 

“But it is,” Amelie presses on. “You’re loyal. You’re funny. You have the ability to make anyone feel comfortable, even if you just met them. Your infectious energy elevates every room you walk into. You care deeply about everyone in your life. You were the first of Jack’s friends to be so openly kind to me and you continued to be kind to me even when I didn’t deserve it.” 

“I’m loud. Harsh. Always has to be on the go or I get bored. Life of the party maybe and a fun time usually, but that’s it.”

Amelie scoffs. “Respectfully, shut the fuck up. Okay, you’re all of those things, so what? You think she doesn’t already know? She probably knows better than any of us. I get being hesitant to do anything because she’s maybe on a different page, I get that. But it’s not because you’re not good enough. Get that shit out of your head.”

Trevor has to laugh, both at the abruptness of this call and unbridled honesty from Amelie’s voice. “I’m not gonna lie. Getting chewed out by my best friend’s wife wasn’t on the list of things I expected today.”

“If you think I’m chewing you out now, you’re lucky Clementine doesn’t know about this yet.”

Trevor actually shudders at the possibility of Clementine Sandoval (well, Clementine Hischier as of two years ago but old habits die hard), lecturing him about this. He still remembers Clem’s lectures she would give Quinn, Jack and Luke when they were all in Michigan. They would usually be over the phone, since she was already out in California for school by then, but even at 17, Trevor knew she wasn’t someone to be messed with. Who else in the world, besides Ellen Weinberg-Hughes, can somehow lecture all three Hughes brothers successfully in one breath?

“She doesn’t?”

“Eh, usually she would. But she’s in her last trimester and Nico would kill me if I stressed her out more.”

And well, Trevor thinks that’s fair enough. He quiets again, thinking. “You think we could be a good match? Belle and I?”

“Yes,” Amelie says with no hesitation. “And I’m not going to tell you why, because I’m pretty sure deep down, you already know.” 

He kinda hates that she’s right. Damn, is he this easy to read? He hangs up, but not before promising to give her a call more often. 

As they’re leaving practice, Jamie nudges him with his shoulder. “How’s Isabelle?”

“She’s good. She has a wedding in Santa Monica this weekend so I haven’t seen her that much this week.” 

“She a good roommate?”

Trevor smirks and elbows him lightly. “Better than you ever were.”

Jamie’s jaw drops, indignant. “Hey! I was a great roommate, thank you very much.”

“You were, you were. Nah, she’s great. We did Christmas just the two of us and it was really nice.”

“Just the two of you?”

“Fuck off, Jimmy.”

“I’m just asking! She chose not to fly home and stayed here with you instead. Ever think about what that could mean?”

Trevor has thought about it a lot recently, actually. But Jamie doesn’t need to know that. He lets out an uncommitted noise, but the look on Jamie’s face tells him that he’s not fooling anyone. Least of all, one of his dearest friends. 

Trevor needs to tell her soon. Or get over it. 

…..

Trevor never thought to really ask Belle if she wanted to go to a game, which is weird, because why wouldn’t he want a friend out in the stands to cheer him on? But he also knows that Belle wouldn’t be afraid to just ask if she wanted to go, and that her ideal time to unwind after work isn’t necessarily to go into a rowdy arena. She’s perfectly content snuggling in on the couch and watching the game on TV.

But when he mentions that Cole and the Canadiens are coming into town to play, she perks up. During the whole wedding weekend, Trevor could tell that she got pretty comfortable with Cole. Which, to Trevor, makes complete sense. Cole has the ability to make friends quickly and genuinely anywhere he goes. He leaves a ticket on the counter before heading to morning skate, as well as a note allowing her permission to raid his closet for any Ducks merch she so desires to wear. 

The game is a fun battle that goes into OT, but Leo gets the game winner with an assist from Trevor and the Honda Center goes nuts. Trevor has plans to grab dinner with Cole and Belle, and he’s in good spirits during media before he meets up with Cole and goes outside to where he told Belle to meet them. 

The boys see her before she sees them. Belle’s leaning against the wall of the arena on her phone, one of his jerseys tucked into black jeans and a black blazer completing the look. Cole calls out her name and she immediately puts her phone away with a smile, letting Cole hug her tightly with a chuckle. Trevor trails behind, watching the scene in happiness. Trevor tells Belle where he made dinner reservations, and she gets into her own car to follow them. 

As Trevor watches Cole and Belle talk at dinner, it’s overwhelming, his love for her. Cole’s pulling out some old-school stories from way back during their program days and Belle’s absolutely loving it, pulling out some of her own stories from her college days and Trevor feels so fucking lucky. There’s a particular thing that Cole says that has her coughing up her water and she’s laughing so hard and Trevor feels so fucking fond. 

Tomorrow, he promises himself. He has to tell her tomorrow.

…..

He doesn’t tell her tomorrow. But in his defense, he has to go on a road trip and she’s busy at work. 

Somehow, after dinner with Cole, he had gone to sleep earlier than she did but had woken up before her to a short but sweet note on the kitchen counter. In her cursive, he smiles at her words. 

Trev, 

Thank you for dinner and a fun game <3 Wanted to tell you tonight but by the time I got out of the bathroom you were already in bed (old man). Good luck on your road trip to wherever!! 

Love, 

Belle

He takes the note and folds it carefully, tucking it into his wallet. 

…..

At the end of the day, he ends up just blurting it out. 

He comes home from the road trip to the smell of something absolutely delicious floating through the house. He peeks his head around the corner to see Belle flittering around the kitchen, stirring something in a pot. The oven beeps and Trevor decides to make his presence known. 

“Smells good in here.”

Belle looks over her shoulder and he realizes she’s wearing one of his Ducks hoodies he must’ve had lying around. She beams. “Hey! Welcome home. I felt like making some good old grilled cheese and tomato soup with some roasted vegetables because I guess we need those. Don’t tell your coaches if this fucks up your diet-”

“I love you.” 

And well, shit, because that’s definitely not how he pictured this going. For a split second, he thinks he imagined it. But Belle freezes, her back towards him, and he has no idea what to do.

After what seems like a lifetime, she turns off the stove and turns around. “What?”

Trevor walks forward, “I love you. I’m in love with you. And I know you probably don’t feel the same way and that’s okay! I really don’t want this to change anything between us because I love our friendship. But I-I had to say it because it’s driving me crazy not saying it.”

“Trevor-”

“I know. I know. I’m sorry. Y-you’re such an important part of my life and I really hope this didn’t fuck everything up-”

Belle rushes towards him to put her hands on his shoulders, steadying him. He forces himself to take a deep breath and to stop his hands from shaking, staring at his feet. He’s breathing really fast, but Belle’s orange blossom perfume and touch calms him down ever so slightly. 

“You good?”

He swallows roughly. “Yeah, yeah. Sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize,” she says softly. He gets the courage to look at her face. He sees her smile and he can’t help but smile too. She clears her throat. “I-I thought it was clear, but I guess I’m out of practice. I feel the same way, Trevor. I like you a lot. Maybe not…love. Yet. B-but you’ve become my favorite person. And these last few months have been so…lovely. I just-I haven’t said anything because I don’t know if I’m ready yet.”

“That’s okay,” Trevor rushes to assure. Because holy shit, she likes him back? This was farther than he thought he was going to get. He chuckles lightly. “I…shit. Sorry. I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact you like me like that.”

“Trevor,” she trails her hands down his arms to grab both of his hands. “Of course I do.”

“Oh,” he says softly. 

Belle’s eyes water, and Trevor immediately feels the surge to make her feel better. “But I don’t know if I’m ready, Trev. I don’t know when I will be. And I can’t be the asshole and ask you to wait.”

“Why not?” Trevor challenges.

Belle looks at him incredulously. “Because that’s unfair.”

“Well too bad. Because I’m not gonna listen to you.”

“What?”

“As long as you need. Take your time. I mean it. And when you’re ready, I’ll be here. I promise.”

She bites her lip, “Trevor, you can’t possibly promise something like that.”

“I can, actually. And I will.”

She opens her mouth, then closes it, before laughing. She squeezes her eyes shut as he places his hands on her cheeks to cup her face. “Okay.”

He raises an eyebrow playfully. “You’re not gonna fight me?”

She shakes her head. “You’ve never been the kind of person to back down.”

He laughs and he so wants to kiss her. But he doesn’t, instead just placing a gentle kiss on her forehead. “You’ll let me know when you’re ready?”

“If you’re still around,” she jokes. 

Trevor grins, his heart growing four times its size. He feels like it might explode out of his chest. “I’ll always be around for you.”

[zahri-melitor]

Okay, a list of stories that personally I would feel more seen by in DC Pride than characters explaining Sexuality 101 every year:

1. Renee Montoya and Maggie Sawyer dating and everyone rolling their eyes when the two explain how incestuously small the vigilante-and-cops lesbian scene is in Gotham, and they’ve both already dated everyone else, accompanied by flashbacks to various dates with other combinations of characters.

2. John Constantine performing some sort of ritual magic involving sex. There might be an orgy or demons involved.

3. A solid love story set on Themyscira with a view on how the culture about relationships and partners exists in an all women community (could be Hippolyta and Philippus raising a young Diana, could be a random couple selected from various minor characters)

4. As said, Thomas Blake and Floyd Lawton flirting with weapons, killing people with extreme prejudice, fucking nasty afterwards, and then the two of them lounging around wearing very little while Floyd has a cigarette (possibly going ‘huh. So that’s what it’s all about’).

5. A selection of queer Titans and associated hangers on go out to watch women’s football of some code together. Would include the line “yeah that one’s old enough for you to perve on” about a player in their 30s to a character also in her 30s.

6. Someone actually confronts Kyle Rayner about being a living gay artist stereotype and Connor Hawke steps in to fix the situation and explains: 1. Don’t force people to out themselves for your comfort; 2. Don’t make assumptions based on appearances. The person comes away with the impression Kyle and Connor are dating. The two laugh about it afterwards.

7. A continuation of the ‘everyone from high school/college in my friendship group has also come out as queer’ storyline from Hawkgirl.

[grayskies2525]

An Admirable Denial |M/M| Part 1

Word Count: 6,076

Link to all parts: An Admirable Denial (14 parts)

Connor Hayes has made his fair share of dubious decisions in his thirty-four years. The first notable instance was when he was six years old and felt it reasonable to make pancakes for his parents at 5 o’clock in the morning. In addition to this already abhorrent mistake, six-year old Connor also thought it was a logical course of action to — after seeing flames arise from the stovetop —  run and hide in his bedroom to avoid getting in trouble. This particular mistake would mark the beginning of endless teasing whenever Connor came anywhere near a flame. He doesn’t know how many more years he can handle hearing better not put any candles on Connor’s birthday cake! Remember when he burnt his house down? There was also the time when he was sixteen years old and dated Bethany Spencer even though his actual crush was on Evan Lewis. This, unfortunately, would become a pattern for Connor until he was twenty-five years old and finally accepted dating women was perhaps best left to people who were actually attracted to them. 

Then, of course, there’s the time, a little over a year ago, when he effectively ran away to New York due to a severe case of commitment issues. This especially dubious decision resulted in Connor living in an apartment with a cat he was allergic to and a not-zero number of rat roommates. But worse than his appalling living situation, was the ache he felt each day in his chest that came from leaving behind the one part of his life that had actually made sense. He left behind the lovely life he’d made with Felix Brown in their quaint little town where he worked from home as an author and freelance editor. He’d, instead, replaced it with living in a city he despised with a cousin he barely tolerated and, of course, the cat he was allergic to. All while working as a full time editor at a publishing house he also grew to despise.

Connor spares a moment to consider the absurdity of the decisions he’d made in the last year. Then, he chooses to, instead, focus on not spilling the cups of coffee he’s carrying that he filled precariously to the brim. Once he makes it to the bedroom, he stands in the doorway and indulges in a moment of admiring what he sees before him. Felix is sprawled out diagonally on the bed, the sheets and comforter in tangles between his legs. Felix’s face is pressed into the pillow that Connor, until ten minutes ago, had been using as his own. Felix’s mouth is parted slightly and Connor can hear Felix letting out soft, rhythmic snores. Connor wouldn’t be at all surprised to find a large spot of drool on the pillow — it wouldn’t be the first time.

He carefully walks toward the bed, being sure to set one mug gently down on the end table next to Felix. Connor maneuvers himself into the bed the best he can with Felix spread out across it. He settles into the bed, resting his back against the headboard. Felix’s brown hair is a mess of waves splayed out across his forehead. His features are soft and relaxed in sleep, and Connor smiles and shakes his head as he spots the predictable puddle of drool on the pillow. Connor internally chastises himself for the umpteenth time for ever considering it a sensible idea to walk away from this man. 

Connor relaxes into the bed. He pulls out his phone to scroll mindlessly through news stories, while taking sips of his own coffee. They seem to get progressively more troubling the farther down he scrolls and leave him wondering why he continues bothering to check the news, at all. He’s relieved when Felix stirs next to him.

“Mmm, you were ‘sposed to bring me coffee,” Felix mutters into his pillow.

“Honey, I did bring you coffee. But when I got back in here, you were out again,” Connor explains, and laughs when he sees Felix scrunch his nose up at this information.

“I’m so tired,” Felix pouts, face still pressed firmly against the pillow.

“Well, it’s Saturday. There’s no reason we can’t lie around in bed all morning,” Connor says, keeping his voice low and soft, twirling some of Felix’s wavy strands of hair through his fingers.

Felix continues muttering — this time something entirely unintelligible.

“I’m going to need you to use actual words at some point here,” Connor says softly, still twirling Felix’s hair through his fingers.

Felix groans — he’s never been one to particularly enjoy mornings — and adjusts himself into an upright position, now propped up against the headboard alongside Connor. Felix, adjusting the tangled up sheets and comforter to better cover his bare torso, curls into Connor. He nuzzles his face into Connor’s shoulder. Connor doesn’t mind; he’s more than content to lie in bed with Felix even if the man in question seems to be using Connor more as a source of warmth than for actual company. Connor extends his arm, and wraps Felix up even closer, making sure he’s perfectly nestled for maximum amount of warmth.

Suddenly Felix’s head quickly bobs up and down. The sound he makes would hardly be perceptible if it weren’t for their close proximity.

“N’gt!”

Connor’s lip twitches. He waits a few seconds then — another bob of Felix’s head and— 

“N’gt!” 

Three more seconds and the inevitable — 

“N’gt!”

“Bless you, sweetie,” Connor says with a chuckle. “Every single morning, huh?”

Felix twitches his nose like he’s some kind of rodent and not, instead, a thirty-two year old man. Connor would be telling an outrageous lie if he said he didn’t find it immensely adorable. 

“Ugh, yeah,” Felix says with a sigh, rubbing his scrunched up nose with his palm. “It’s like my body isn’t ready to start the day until it gets a few sneezes out.”

“Well, now that you’ve gotten your sneezes out,” Connor begins. “How about you drink some of your coffee so you can really begin waking up? We don’t have to do anything for a few hours but we did agree to meet Annie and Lilah for lunch.”

Felix reaches over for his coffee and brings it up to his lips. Connor watches as Felix’s eyes close in pleasure. “Oh my god,” he moans. “It’s so good. And I didn’t even have to get out of bed to make it. You’re literally the best person in the world. ” Felix states, matter-of-factly. “How did I go an entire year without you bringing coffee to me in bed every morning? Seriously, babe, how did I survive?”

“I don’t know. You must be made of some pretty strong stuff to endure such a tragedy,” Connor says, feigning a plaintive tone. 

Felix looks up, his smile wide and eyes bright. “I am very strong. Mentally and physically,” he says flexing his arm, which causes Connor to dribble a little of the coffee he’d just sipped.

Felix’s body is made in a way that seems best suited for slipping through crowds unnoticed, or wriggling through a tight crawl space. Connor imagines Felix’s lithe frame would be especially conducive in pulling off a type of heist-related situation — if Felix actually had the gracefulness to go with it, which he certainly doesn’t. More often than not, though, it’s actual purpose is mostly reserved to sitting around on the couch, with the exception of when he’s teaching high school Biology. Even then, from what Connor’s gathered, Felix mostly sits in his chair during the work day. Conversely, Connor’s frequent days spent at the gym lends him a rather athletic build. In appearance, they’re quite opposite from each other. That’s especially true when considering Felix’s more relaxed sense of style, with Felix never seeming to have graduated from that phase college students go through  —  the one where they pick up whatever clean-ish shirt and pants happen to be lying around. Connor would never use the word sloppy to describe his boyfriend because he would never be so mean. If asked, Connor would say slightly disheveled, or perhaps laidback. Though, all the while, sloppy would be back there in the recesses of his mind scratching to get to the front.  While in New York, Connor saw many different types of men, including men in similar appearance to Connor — tall with a muscular build and, overall, well composed.  He never felt even a spark of interest toward a single one. 

Connor watches as Felix lazily picks up the TV remote and attempts to find a show to occupy their morning with. Connor imagines the eventual destination will be a toss up between either a reptile-centered documentary, or some awful, sensationalized true crime series. 

“And then she was stabbed eighteen times in the chest.”

The words spill out of the TV, and unfortunately, into Connor’s ears. Please, he thinks, let it change to something about crocodiles, or iguanas, or snakes, or anything that’s not about a brutal murder.

“Upon closer inspection, there were also bruises around her neck — clear evidence of a strangulation.” 

And with that, Felix sets the remote on the end table as he settles more into the bed, eyes fixated on the screen. 

Connor sighs and rubs his forehead. He continues sipping his coffee as he deliberately tunes out the overly dramatized murder re-enactment. He thinks back to Felix telling him that he was the “best person in the world” for bringing him coffee every morning. It was an obvious joke, a clear exaggeration, but Connor has noticed several small hints suggesting Felix may be too easily forgiving. It’s in the way Felix still sends him easy, light smiles. Shouldn’t this take more effort to earn back? Shouldn’t his expressions still be burdened with the heaviness that comes from losing trust in someone you thought would never hurt you? But, here they are, three days after agreeing to “take it slow,” drinking coffee and watching TV in bed together — after spending the night engaged in an activity that was, decidedly, not “taking it slow.”

Connor knows he should be sending his thanks to whatever deity responsible for allowing Connor to easily slip back into Felix’s life with seemingly no ramifications. But, instead, he just feels… guilty. At the time, leaving seemed like it was the best choice for both he and Felix. Connor knew if he’d asked Felix, Felix would have chosen to come with him. And Felix would have hated every part of New York City. So, Felix would be faced with either staying in a place he despised, or he’d be forced to leave Connor. So, Connor took away any choice he may have had by simply telling Felix he was leaving for New York without leaving any room for discussion. The conversation — though calling it such would be a stretch — lasted all of five minutes and resulted in Felix leaving the coffee shop before any food or drink could ever arrive. It was a year before he saw Felix again —  when Connor decided to finally leave his ridiculously demanding job that barely paid enough for him to afford the apartment he hated. Though, he likes to think, even if he had loved the apartment and the job, he still would have come back for Felix.

It’s obvious to Connor now, after some time to reflect, that he’d been unknowingly participating in a tale — one he’s not fond of — as old as time. Simply put, Connor ran away. He ran away because he was afraid of getting hurt. It was as pathetic as it sounds.

“Babe,” Felix’s voice, still slightly hoarse from sleep, “how mad do you think Annie would be if we… just stayed here today? If we didn’t have lunch?”

Connor huffs out a laugh. “I know we barely know her, but based on the single interaction I had with her… Well, she gives me the impression that she’s not really, uh… meek. I have a feeling she’d tell you exactly how she felt if you called her up a few hours before we’re supposed to meet, to cancel.”

Felix looks thoughtful. “But… what if I’m sick?” he asks.

“You’re not sick,” Connor says, rolling his eyes. Connor is very aware of this fact because Felix had been sick the week prior with a flu that’s just now fully released its grip on him. He’s been more conscious than ever of Felix’s health and if there were any signs of illness, he’s sure he’d notice. 

“Oh no,” Felix begins with a painfully fake cough. “Achoo achoo achoo. Oh, Connor, it appears the flu has come back for me. I must stay in bed and rest. Oh, yes, I’m afraid I mustn’t venture out on this cold winter’s day for I shall catch my death,” he says, hand held to his forehead, as though he’s a Victorian lady one step away from collapsing onto her fainting couch. 

“Felix,” Connor says, sighing, but he can’t stop the slight twitch of his lips that betrays his amusement. “Why do you want to avoid going, anyway? Annie’s your friend.”

Felix scrunches up his nose and drops his shoulders. “Because, doesn’t it sound better to just … not go out?” he asks, wistfully.

“Has anyone ever told you before, sweetheart, that you’re a little bit  lazy?” Connor says with a slight pre-emptive wince for the reaction that likely is coming.

But instead of launching into a defense, Felix frowns, and slumps back into bed. “It’s been said, yes,” he says, with a long sigh.

Connor laughs, absentmindedly pushing up his glasses. “Well, getting out sometimes is good for you. We won’t even be out that long. It’ll be a totally harmless adventure,” Connor promises. _____

Coming out was a mistake. This is all Connor can manage to think as he watches Annie swipe at her glistening nostrils for what must be the thirtieth time in the thirty minutes they’ve been out. Connor wouldn’t consider himself a germaphobe — if he were, he would have instantly perished the first (of many) times Felix sneezed and coughed on him during his bout of the flu. He’s not exactly uneasy about what the germs can do; he never seems to catch anything, regardless of the extent of the exposure. There’s something, though, intrinsically off-putting to him about being in the vicinity of someone who’s likely to start spewing germ-laden droplets from their face at any given moment. With Felix, it had, of course, been different. Because…well, because he was Felix. 

In general, Connor prefers to occupy tidy, clean spaces. This is another area where he must make an exception for Felix. While there’s certainly been times when he’s felt frustration bubble — when he’s seen Felix’s overly full laundry basket, a random sock in the kitchen, or a pile of dishes in  the sink —  the frustration never fully boiled over because… he’s Felix. Connor’s rules clearly don’t apply to him. Even when Felix had been wiped out by the flu last week and reduced to a runny-nosed, sneezing and coughing heap in bed, Connor didn’t hesitate to pick up the used tissues littered all over the bedroom. He, of course, used a paper towel as a barrier, and thoroughly washed his hands afterwards, but that’s not something he would've done for a single other person he’s ever known.

Connor redirects his attention from his thoughts back to Annie who’s speaking about… something. He’s only had one prior interaction with her before now, but she’s clearly on the eccentric side and sometimes trying to understand the point she’s making— if there even is one — feels akin to trying to catch a butterfly in his hand. It went unspoken, but it was clear to everyone the reason meeting for lunch was mostly for Lilah — Annie’s girlfriend and a huge fan of Connor’s work — to have the chance to meet Connor. However, he’s hardly had the chance to exchange any words with Lilah due to Annie and Felix dominating all conversations.

“So, thaa-heh-t’chiieeeew!” Annie’s nose interrupts whatever she was trying to say. Connor is disappointed to see that Annie appears to think holding her hand a foot away from her face is an adequate way to catch a sneeze. He can literally see the fine mist she expels. It’s there for just a moment before it dissipates, but still, he knows an innumerable number of germs have been sent out into the air.

“Excuse me,” Annie says, blinking.

Annie's girlfriend, Lilah, shifts her long black braid off her shoulder as she inspects her girlfriend’s face. “You’re catching a cold,” she says with a slight frown.

Annie sniffles and wriggles her nose. “No, I’m not ‘catching a cold.’ My nose is just itchy and runny.” As if needing to prove this, she uses her hand to roughly scrub at her nose. 

“Oh my god, Annie, don’t infect me. I literally just got over being sick,” Felix pleas, miserably.

“I did, too!” Annie says, but more in a sense of disbelief at herself than any actual anger. “I was sick as a freaking dog just a few weeks ago. There’s no way I caught something again. I mean, it’s winter. Noses get runny in winter,” she says, though her expression lacks conviction. 

“Sweetheart,” Lilah begins, her voice laced with unmistakable fondness. “We’ve been in a heated indoor space for over half an hour. And, well, you know how you are with colds and things…” Lilah trails off.

“I-I do seem to get them a lot, don’t I?” Annie asks, sounding disheartened at this apparent revelation.

Lilah’s expression softens into a gentle smile. “Yes, baby, you do. It’s because you spend so much time basically bathing in germs at work.”

“But… when I first started teaching, I was fine, wasn’t I?” Annie asks Lilah.

“I wouldn’t say fine. But, no, it wasn’t this bad. Those were fourth-graders, though. This past year, you’ve been with Kindergarteners, and, well… I imagine they’re a little more free with spreading their germs,” Lilah says, sympathetically.

“I guess…” mutters Annie. “But I r-r-heh-really think heehh-t’ssshIEEEW!”

Again, Annie’s hand extends far out from her face as a fine mist sprays the air. That sneeze seemed especially…wet, Connor is disappointed to realize. 

“Bless you, Annie,” Connor starts, keeping his tone polite. “You know, if you aren't feeling well, we can just do this another time. I understand, and I'm sure Felix does, too, if you need to go home and rest,” Connor says, offering his most sympathetic smile. 

But Annie shakes her head. “Oh, gosh, no. I mean, we don't have to leave because I might be getting the sniffles. Like I said, I feel fine,” Annie repeats, but her hand is already back at her nose ready for another swipe. “I'm not going on bed rest because of a runny nose.”

Connor strongly wishes she would because it's not “just” a runny nose. Once sneezes enter the equation, he prefers to maintain as far as possible a distance who has, despite what Annie says, an obvious cold beginning to bloom.

Lilah begins doting all over Annie, reaching up to feel her forehead for a fever while Annie continues to huff that she’s “pretty much fine.” At this point, Connor notices Felix is being uncharacteristically quiet. When he looks, he can see Felix typing urgently on his phone. Connor can’t help but notice the name “Ben” displayed at the top of the screen.

“Everything okay?” Connor asks, lightly nudging Felix to get his attention.

Felix’s brows are deeply furrowed. “Um, I don’t know. It’s Ben. I think he’s, like, really sick.” 

Connor thinks about Felix’s best friend, Ben. He and Felix had, reluctantly, helped Ben move into his new apartment last week. Felix had been in the thick of his illness, so it doesn’t surprise Connor that Ben caught what Felix had. But, from what Connor can recall, this is Ben’s fifth day being sick. Felix had already starting getting better by that point.

“What do you mean? What’s wrong?” Connor asks.

Instead of responding, Felix hands his phone over so Connor can read the text conversation between him and Ben.

Felix: Dude, look. Leslie’s Kitchen brought back their pretzels.

Connor looks at the image attached of the pretzel Felix is currently eating.

Ben: Looks good

Felix: It IS. They even cost less than they used to. And they come with cheddar cheese cups now.

Connor looks at the image Felix attached of the cheddar cheese cup and wonders if a picture is actually necessary, but then he decides to move on to the next text instead of questioning Felix.

Ben: Yum

Felix: I’m going to be honest here, Ben, I definitely thought you’d be more excited. I mean, you’ve spent the last two years whining about how they were taken off the menu. 

Ben: Sorry. Kinda tired i guess

Felix: Still sick?

Ben: 👍

Felix: Please tell me you’re home and not still trying to work through this thing.

Ben: Went to the cafe but Melanie sent me home

Felix: Good. Do you need anything?

Ben: No but thnks

Connor finishes reading the texts and passes the phone back to Felix. Felix is looking at him as though Connor should also be sharing his sense of urgency.

“Uh, I mean, I’m not sure why you think he’s ‘really sick’? There’s not  exactly much to go on here,” Connor says, but it’s clear he’s saying the wrong words as Felix’s eyes widen.

“Not much to go on? Connor! Have you ever texted Ben before?”

Connor sighs. He has several times and hasn’t ever found the experience especially appealing. “Yes, I have,” Connor says, instead.

“And how many times, Connor, has Ben ever sent you a text that’s been less than ten words?” Felix asks, pointedly.

Connor takes a moment to seriously consider this. “I mean, I guess, they usually are pretty wordy,” Connor agrees.

“Yes, exactly. This is Ben. He should be complaining about how he’s currently on his deathbed and texting me a superfluous list of his symptoms and other exaggerated nonsense. He should be begging me to bring him medicine and tissues, or whatever. We need to check on him,” Felix says, mind clearly made up.

“Okay,” Connor begins, carefully. “I’m not saying we shouldn’t, but it seems like he is pretty tired. Maybe he’d rather get some sleep than to have us just barge in,” but Connor knows before he’s even finished speaking how Felix feels about the suggestion. 

“Connor, I know Ben. Something’s off with him,” Felix says, and Connor hates the concern he sees in Felix’s eyes, not liking to ever see Felix worried.

Connor wants to tell Felix that what’s “off” about Ben is the fact that he has the flu and that, all things considered, it’s entirely normal that Ben isn’t giving his typical energetic text responses. But Connor knows how important Ben is to Felix. They’ve had an unbreakable bond between them since they were four years old. Felix may act exasperated at Ben’s often ridiculous antics and overall tendency to be dramatic, but Connor knows Felix considers Ben to be family. 

Connor winces as he hears Annie send three more high-pitched sneezes into the air. 

“Hiiih-T’sHIEW! Hih’t’shiewww! HIH-T’SHIEEEEWW!”

“Okay, that’s it,” Lilah says, definitively. “Sorry to cut this short, but it looks like Annie and I are going to have to head out,” she says, addressing Felix and Connor.

“We don’t have to leave hiih! Hih-eh’tchIEWW!” Annie says, once again, sharing her germs generously with the restaurant. She rubs her slightly pinkened nose.

“You’re spending the day in bed,” Lilah says, already holding out Annie’s coat to her. Annie’s nose is scrunching up and her nostrils are twitching as though in preparation for a sneeze that’s not yet ready to come.  

Annie smiles and sends Lilah a suggestive look. “Oooh, spending the day in bed with you? I can think of plenty of things we can do in said bed. Hiih-eT-chieeeWW!” She snaps forward with a particularly harsh, high-pitched, spraying sneeze.

Lilah rolls her eyes but looks at Annie, adoringly. “Go ahead and erase any items from that filthy list of yours that doesn’t involve sleeping, watching movies, or drinking tea.”

Annie pouts. “That doesn’t sound like any fun at all,” she says, once again, rubbing her nose.

After paying for their meal, the group departs with plans to meet up again after Annie’s feeling better. Felix hurriedly walks to the passenger side of the car, as though Ben’s going to perish if they don’t get to his house as soon as possible.

_____

Connor grimaces when he sees the state Ben is in once he opens the door. Ben is pale except for two bright spots of pink on both of his cheeks and a reddened nose. His shoulder length, dark hair hangs in limp waves, as though it hasn’t been washed in days. He is in an oversized gray hoodie and plaid pajama pants, wearing mismatched socks. He has a blanket draped over him like a cape and the first thing he does when pulling open the door to reveal Felix and Connor is cough wretchedly. Connor doesn’t know how he keeps finding himself around so many sick people.

“Hey,” Ben croaks, his voice so raspy and rough, it’s slightly alarming. “Why’s Connor here?” Ben directs the question to Felix.

“Uh, well…” Felix says, rubbing the back of his neck. “We’re kind of back together,” he says quickly before forcing himself into Ben’s living room.

“You’re what?” Ben rasps out. Connor imagines Ben intends the question to carry an annoyance with it, or some frustration, or possibly even anger. But, instead, it comes across as just pitiful, as he starts to cough and moves toward the couch. He lies down, pulling his blanket over himself up to his chin as he continues coughing, seeming as though he’s never going to stop.

Felix grabs a nearby water bottle and shoves it into Ben’s hands. Ben shakily takes the water bottle, still lying down, as he takes small sips of it, his coughs finally calming down.

Felix places his hand on Ben’s forehead, checking him for a fever. It’s clear to Connor without even feeling Ben’s skin that the guy is completely burning up.

“Oh my god, Ben. How long have you been sick? Like, five days now?” Felix asks, his unease evident in his voice.

Ben clears his throat, carefully, as though afraid to trigger another coughing fit. “Yeah, I think so. That sounds right, anyway.” 

Connor and Felix had stopped at a store on the way to pick up a few supplies for Ben, so Connor now busies himself with setting everything out on the coffee table. He holds up some generic cold medicine. “Hey, man, have you taken anything for that?”

Ben weakly shakes his head. “I had some early this morning before work, but it was the last of it. Pretty sure it’s worn off now.” 

Connor frowns as he watches Ben tremble under the blanket. He and Ben have never gotten along especially well, mostly due to how Connor feels that Ben tends to take advantage of Felix’s kind nature. Ben also clearly resents Connor for how Connor left Felix, though Connor can’t exactly blame him for that. But looking at Ben now, Connor is unable to feel anything except sympathy.

He hands the pills over to Ben, who chokes them down with some water. His eyes seem burdened by the simple task of staying open.

Felix moves the coffee table close to Ben and takes a seat on it, his mouth fixed in a tight line. “Ben, I told you when you first came down with this thing to take it easy. I told you it’s no joke. And what did you do? You went and worked both of your jobs, sometimes on the same day. How are you supposed to get better when you won’t give your body the chance to do what it needs to? How is it supposed to fight off any kind of virus when it’s having to use all of its energy just to keep you awake? And, oh my god, did you say you tried going into work this morning? Ben, seriously, what is wrong with you!”

Connor smiles softly, and places his hand gently on Felix’s shoulder. “Hey, honey, maybe dial it down just a bit, okay? Do you like people yelling at you when you’re not feeling good?”

 Felix frowns, somehow still managing to look adorable, with his scrunched up nose and furrowed brows. He takes a deep breath. “Fine. Sorry, for raising my voice, Ben. But I mean, look at you! Your face is … it’s, like, not even pale. It’s gray. Dude, you’re literally dying.” 

Felix likes to joke about Ben’s propensity for exaggeration, but Connor’s always found Felix to be able to effortlessly match Ben’s flair for the dramatic. Connor sighs and gently squeezes Felix’s shoulder. “He’s not dying. He’s just got that same nasty flu you had. I’m sure he’ll be fine with some rest,” Connor says, softly, hoping to soothe Felix a little.

Ben takes a deep, shaky breath, and coughs roughly until it ends in a sharp noise that sounds like it was possibly a sneeze but Connor can’t be sure. Connor notices Ben has a blue and gray plaid hanky— an actual handkerchief, not a tissue — clutched in his hand. Ben brings the hanky up and swipes at his nose, then drops his hand with the used hanky still clutched tightly, as though the simple gesture took his last bit of energy. 

“Jesus, Ben,” Felix mutters. “Do you need anything? We brought you some soup from Leslie’s. I can heat some up for you.”

Ben sniffles deeply, the gurgling sound making Connor wince. “No, I-I don’t think-hih! I don’t think I can eat.” Ben quickly pulls his handkerchief up to his face, covering his mouth and nose, his head jerking violently forward. “Huuh-IGG’SHUUUUUUH!” Ben follows the alarmingly violent sneeze with a miserable sounding groan and a nose blow that sounds like he’s not far from literally drowning in the mucus his body is producing. “Felix, if you want to help, you can open up the new pack of handkerchiefs I ordered online when this damn thing started,” he says, his already raspy voice also absurdly congested sounding, his ‘m’s and ‘n’s all sounding like ‘d’s. He gestures toward an unopened package on a table by the door. “I’ve gone through all the others I keep for when my allergies are bad and I don’t have it in me to do laundry. I have tissues, but they kill my nose.”

Felix tears into the package, pulling out a large pack of plaid handkerchiefs in varying colors. Felix frowns as he looks at them. “Oh my god, why didn’t I think of getting some of these when I was sick? I used lotion-infused tissues but they still rubbed my skin completely raw.”

“Because you’re not as wise as I am,” Ben says with a sniffle, reaching out for one of the hankies Felix is holding. Connor’s heart warms at the smile Felix is wearing from hearing Ben still able to joke around.

“Hmm… more like I’m not an eighty year old man. I mean, who even thinks about handkerchiefs these days?” Felix teases back.

“Dude, when you have allergies like mine, you get desperate for any kind of relief. I usually only use them at home though because people are weird about hiiih -” Ben shakily mutters, already bringing the fresh hanky up to his face. “HEEGGG’SHUUUHHH!” More coughing ensues. 

Connor decides to put away some of the stuff they brought over. He’d forgotten about the Ben and Jerry’s cookie dough ice cream. “Shit, Felix, we need to put this in the freezer,” he says, gesturing to the pint of ice cream.

Ben’s coughing settles and he raises up a little on the couch. “Did you bring me ice cream?” Ben asks, his interest clear even through his glassy eyes and chalky complexion. 

“Uh, yeah, but you said you’re not hungry, so I think we’ll just put it in the freezer,” Felix says, casting Ben a sly look. 

“I’m not hungry for soup. But ice-cream is different. Is it cookie dough?” Ben asks, swiping at his nose again with his hankie. 

“Ben,” Felix says seriously. “Of course it’s cookie dough. Do you think I’d bring anything less?”

“Oh my god, it’s Ben and Jerry’s,” Ben rasps out, sounding excited despite being so unwell. “Felix, I freaking love you. Those things are, like, seven dollars. I’d pay you back, but…. You shouldn’t have IGG’SHHHUHHHHH!”

There was no hitching or building up, or any warning. The sneeze blasted out of Ben entirely uncovered. Connor looks away as Ben cleans up the sneeze’s remnants from his face.    “Excuse me, sorry,” Ben mumbles, and Connor can tell that the throat-scraping sneeze took any energy Ben had left out of him. His eyes shut, and he pulls the comforter more tightly around himself. “Actually,” he begins weakly, “I think I will save the ice cream for later. I know I don’t usually nap, but… I don’t think I can help it,” he says in almost a slur.

“Ben, you’re sick. I know rest is an unfamiliar concept to you, but this is what people are supposed to do when they’re sick,” Felix softly chides. “I’ll put away your ice cream and soup for you and leave the meds out on the table, but make sure you take the correct dosage. Connor and I will head out so you can finally get some proper sleep. Is there anything else you need before we leave?”

“No. Thank you, Felix,” Ben mumbles, sleepily, before turning on his side, face toward the couch, as he succumbs to his obvious exhaustion. 

_____

“So, all in all,” Felix says, as Connor drives away from Ben’s house, “that wasn’t too bad. I mean, I thought when Ben realized I was back with you, he’d give me a hard time.”

Connor laughs, shaking his head. “It wasn’t exactly fair to spring it on him when he’s sick with the flu.”

“Hmm…. maybe not, but it was for self-preservation, okay? I think this was the best case scenario.” 

A comfortable silence falls between them before Felix breaks it. “Winter is just awful. It seems like everyone is getting sick,” he says with a frown. “God, I bet you’re glad to have an immune system of steel, huh? You’ve been exposed to, like, billions of germs in the last week, alone.”

Connor smiles. “It’s a gift I treasure deeply. I feel like a king among peasants,” he says, then laughs when Felix playfully nudges him. 

“Honestly, I’m glad, too. With me just getting over the worst illness I’ve ever had and now having to take care of Ben, I’d fucking cry if you ended up coming down with something, too. That’s just way too many sicknesses to deal with. It’d be exhausting,” Felix says with a shudder, as though the sheer thought of it is unsettling. 

Connor is more than grateful for his excellent immune system, too. He knows Felix and he are on the rocky grounds of  rebuilding a relationship. Connor knows he needs to spend every moment working to earn back Felix’s full trust. If Connor were to come down with one of the nasty viruses seeming to lurk around every corner this year, he knows he couldn’t let Felix take care of him  — it wouldn’t be fair. Felix deserves nothing less than Connor’s best version of himself, and a drippy, sneezy, all-around disgusting cold is not conducive in making Connor appear at his best. Connor also tends to feel fiercely uncomfortable whenever anyone tries to fuss over him; he’s innately opposed to it. He knows it likely stems from his severely lacking experience in ever being cared for. He never dwells on the way he was raised, or treated by past boyfriends. He always aims to focus on the present, and besides, it’s not a relevant thing to analyze, anyhow. Because, thankfully, Connor doesn’t get sick. And if on the extremely off chance he does catch something, he knows it won’t be any worse than a sniffle — it never is. So, he smiles as he drives and thinks about all the ways he’ll try to make everything up to Felix in the coming days. 

Part 2

[gwen-the-assassin]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/15485343/chapters/153749680

I am rewriting an old fanfiction from 2019 because I’ve been inspired again. My writing has improved, and I’m slowly uploading chapters with edits and improvements to the story.

The story focuses on Catherine Rose Cormac, the daughter of the infamous Assassin Hunter, Shay Cormac.

I imagined a "what if" scenario where Shay was gone for years on end, only visiting his daughter a handful of times while she was growing up. The Templar Order—especially Haytham Kenway—wanted to ensure the safety of Shay’s small family. The irony is that this very family becomes a victim of the riot that led to the Boston Massacre on March 5, 1770.

Fifteen-year-old Catherine Cormac knows nothing about Templars or Assassins. She believed her father was merely a captain working for the Royal Navy. Her world is turned upside down when she discovers her father’s involvement in the same organization responsible for her mother’s death and disappearance.

I’m also incorporating some plot elements involving the Precursor Box to make this story unique and not just a copy-and-paste of scenes from the series. (No hate to anyone who does that—I just wanted to develop my own story and ideas.)

The story takes place from 1770 to 1771, shortly before the mission to begin hunting down William Johnson. A sequel is already in development, though when I reread my old version, I was embarrassed by how bad it was. (We live and learn!)

Anyway, I just want to complete Catherine’s story. Yes, it’s an OC x Connor/Ratonhnhaké:ton story.

In my mind, I see two young people standing against the most powerful organization in the colonies, growing up together and falling in love. They go through so much but always have each other.

Part of me feels like Connor deserves to have someone. After losing everything, he should have someone who truly understands and loves him, which is why I created Catherine.

One last note: how funny would it be if not one, but two children of Templars helped bring down the Templar Order?

I also included a little bit of Shaytham in the fic. I feel like Haytham had feelings for Shay that went beyond respect, but he kept them to himself because Shay adored his wife. It’s a bittersweet touch because I enjoy breaking my own heart.

That’s it! Thank you for taking the time to read through my thought process. I hope you give the story a chance!

[ladylooch]

Nico's first looks with his girls on their wedding days would be so very emotional 🥹

And the chats with their grooms ugh he's such a dad figure to them, especially David

Just gonna hit you with some quick thoughts that will make you cry.... Focusing on those first looks with Nico and his girls.

Lucie: "Wow, I did not expect this to be so hard." Nico admits to his oldest. She looks so beautiful. She may already be a mama, but she still looks about 5 years old to Nico. "Me either." Lucie cries, bottom lip all wobbly as she waves at her eyes. "Daddy... I... Connor and I are already married. We got married before Stella was born." Lucie blurts out. Nico smiles. "I know, sweets. I know." "I'm sorry you weren't there. We were just...so scared something would happen to me because... of.. what happened with him and his mama." Nico wraps her into a hug. "You don't need to apologize. It's your life, baby. And I'm here now."

Mack: "Probably never saw this day coming, huh?" Mack laughs as she steps out of the hotel room acting as a bridal suite. Nico can't breathe. He thought it would be easier after Lucie, but it is not. "Before David, yeah I thought that." Nico admits to her. "I think you knew he was the one before me." Mack murmurs, adjusting the collar of his shirt. "No. You knew before me, You were just pretending you didn't thinking you knew better. But he was it." Mack bites her bottom lip, then looks up at him with identical, teary brown eyes. "He's the best, isn't he?" They both laugh as Nico nods. Yeah, David Carlson is better than anything Nico could have dreamed for his daughter.

Sophie: "I should be better at this by now... but I'm not." Nico cries into his youngest's cheek. "Love you so much, baby. I'm so happy for you." Sophie shudders as she grips his shoulders tightly. "I'm never gonna leave you, daddy. It's always gonna be us. I promise." Nico smiles at his youngest. She may be in her mid-twenties, but she is still his littlest angel. He doesn't want to think about how they are moving her out of his house tomorrow. A lump shreds at his throat when he tries to swallow. "You'll always be my baby, sweets." Nico settles on, then wipes her fresh tear tracks off her cheeks before it stains her make up.

[irish-dress-history]

I’m wondering if you have any examples of Irish clothing from the early 1600s (around 1610-1615)? I haven’t been able to find much from this era so I’d appreciate any sources or museum collections that you could recommend.

Starting this out with the caveat that if you're looking for the same level of detail and precision that we have for English dress history in this period, you are going to be disappointed. The types of English primary sources we have for this period (well-dated detailed paintings, well-preserved rich-people clothing, wills, printed books, etc) just don't exist for Ireland. There also seems to be much less research interest in 16th-17th c. Irish dress history, so there isn't nearly as much for secondary sources (books, articles etc.).

You don't mention if you are interested in a specific region in Ireland. Ireland in the early 17th c. was a pretty heterogeneous place. People in Dublin and Waterford wore English-influenced styles. According to British-appointed solicitor-general Sir John Davies, by 1606 a few of the wealthier people in Connacht had started wearing English dress, but many others were still wearing Irish clothing. Ulster was a mix of Irish who were wearing Irish dress and incoming English and lowland Scots settlers.

All of the extant Irish clothing I know of from the early 17th c. comes from either bogs or archaeological excavations. It looks like you've already seen my post on extant garments at the NMI. The NMI also has a couple of felt hats that might be early 17th c. This one is from Knockfola, Co. Donegal. It originally had a decorative cord or band where the pale line is:

There are also another cóta mór and brat, found on a bog body from Leigh, Co. Tipperary, which I don't think the NMI has on display. I did not bother to include them in my post, because they are so similar to the ones from Killery, Co. Sligo, but the fact that these have been found in multiple places suggests that they were common, widely-used garments.

The other major garment-find from this period is the Dungiven outfit which is in the Ulster Museum. a short video The bright blue thread was added by a modern conservator; it's not original. (Side note: The identification of this outfit has gotten unfortunately politicized. Tartan trews were worn by both the Irish and the Scots during the 17th century (McClintock 1943, Dunlevy 1989). The presence of tartan should not be used to draw conclusions about the ethnicity of the wearer.) The primary publication for this outfit:

Henshall, Audrey, Seaby, Wilfred A., Lucas, A. T., Smith, A. G., and Connor, A. (1961). The Dungiven Costume. Ulster Journal of Archaeology, 24/25, 119-142. https://www.jstor.org/stable/20627382

The one other reasonably-well preserved outfit that has published on is from a child burial from Emlagh, Co. Kerry, now at University College Cork. Shee and O'Kelly give it a late 17th c date, but they largely base this date on the presence of a rather generic-looking comb. IMO the outfit could easily be early 17th c.

The Emlagh gown, photographed on a living 8-year-old child who was wearing a sweater and skirt underneath. (The 1960s was a different time.)

The bodice has a wrap-front closure with a back and button-up sleeves similar in cut to the Killery cóta mór. The skirt is a pleated rectangle with the pleats sewn in vertically, somewhat like the Shinrone gown. Publication:

Shee, E. and O'Kelly, M. (1966). A Clothed Burial from Emlagh, near Dingle. Journal of the Cork Historical and Archaeological Society, 71(213), 81-91.

There are also, frustratingly, a bunch of fragmentary clothing finds at the NMI which might be 17th c, but no one seems to care enough to do publications on them, and NMI Archaeology still does not have their collection on-line, so they are useless to us.

The typical Irish shoe for this period is known as a brogue (also called a Lucas type 5 by archaeologists). broguesandshoes.com has photos, a pattern, and construction information.

Unfortunately, the illustrations from Speed's map are the only images I know of from this specific period.

If you want details on what materials were used, I recommend Susan Flavin's dissertation. It's about the 16th c. economy, but things didn't change that much between 1599 and 1601. free download here

If you don't mind wading through early modern English and a bit of period-typical prejudice, I recommend reading A Discourse of Ireland, by Luke Gernon written in 1620. His description of Irish clothing starts halfway down p. 356.

Finally, if you can find them, Dress in Ireland by Mairead Dunlevy (1st ed. 1989) and Old Irish and Highland Dress by H. F. McClintock (1st ed. 1943, 2nd ed. 1950) are the best books I know of for this period.

[claraxbarton]

I've Got My Eyes On.... these 10 dudes this season

The (unasked for) list of the 10 NHL players I'm going to be focused on this season. Check below the cut!

But also!!! Who do YOU have your eyes on this season?! Make your own 10 list!!!! Share!!!! I wanna know!

(In no particular order)

Wyatt Johnston, Dallas Stars, the Puppy

This is the last year of his ELC and the Stars aren't in cap HELL but I have concerns about where they will focus their offseason efforts. But that's not about Wyatt, that's my psychosis.

Wyatt had an awesome second season and I am so pumped to see him on a line with Roope and Robo.

------

2. Sidney Crosby, Pittsburgh Penguins, that Old Man

Back for, and I know you're shocked, 8.7 million a year. I have absolutely zero confidence the Pens will make it to the Playoffs but I have SO MUCH WANT for Crosby to be in the Playoffs again.

------

3. Matthew Tkachuck, Florida, Master of Psychological Warfare

He has so many exciting dates around the league! Meeting the Bruins again the same night Florida raises their Stanley Cup Champions banner! Playing against Brady and the boys! Playing against the Oilers! Playing against new captain Auston! It's just going to be so. busy.

Also I want them to win again.

Also. I want him to put up an MVP quality season. For reasons.

-----

4. Jo Drouin, Colorado, the People's Princess

He's back, he's healthy, he's already flirting with Nate nonstop.

I fully expect(want/wish) him to be a point per game players this year. 30 goal season - I'm manifesting, what are YOU doing?

------

5. K'Andre Miller, NY Rangers, the Only Guy on that Team (for me)

Dude, I think he's fire. I think he's got another, like, three levels to his game. Yes, I want the Rags to lose, always. But also... i want K'Andre to have an incredible year and get a great new contract (ideally with another team so I can root for him to win).

-----

6. Joey Daccord, Seattle Kraken, The Mayor

I absolutely adore Gru, but I hope this year has Joey and Gru doing an even split in games with the aim of, you know, Joey becoming our #1.

-----

7. Tim Stutlze, Ottowa Senators, Noodle Boy

It would be so. cool. if he kicked ass this year - metaphorical or literal. I'm actually, very cautiously, hopeful for the Senators this season. I want to see this little German boy score some goals.

-----

8. Leon Draisaitl, Oilers, the other German Boy(Man)

He's got the bag, the babe and the boy. I would LOVE if, as a personal favor to me, the Oilers make a nice long playoff run and then choke so we get Cursed Connor and support German Leon again.

But also I want him to GO. OFF. this season. Please and thanks.

------

9. Pierre Luc Dubois, Washington, 17th time is the charm??

As someone also desperately unhappy at my workplace and about to embark on a totally new career, I really need PLD to like, thrive??? survive??? this season. Please my guy.

-----

10. Quinn Hughes, Vancouver, Eldest Daughter

Another season, another chance for our most depressed child to experience the HORRORS.

I kind of just want to see what the Canucks are going to do??this year?? I don't have confidence or faith but I do want them to do well - just like, not better than the Kraken.

--------------------

[mysticbeaver]

Regarding your comments about Raven Molisee and Rachel Connor, what do you know about them specifically? Might you share with us?

By the way, what are your thoughts on season 5 as a whole? High and low points?

Can't remember any specifics now, but this is basically what I gathered from reading Raven's deviantart comments from the ancient days (I think it was these two doodle posts, TW blood in the first one). He was concerned the characters were becoming caricatures of themselves and/or acting out-of-character. It seems he voiced his doubts in the studio but they fell upon deaf ears, although at least one person, Sabrina Alberghetti (Sibsy) might have been of the same opinion, judging by a comment I saw. That's all I know really😅 Dunno if @lynyrdsquidward has more info on this (enlighten us professor 😁if you remember any of this old nonsense, that is, haha)

AFAIK Rachel Connor didn't say anything about this topic (most of what I've heard from her comes from those eene podcasts from a year or two ago), although this old tumblr post about Eddy and Bro gave me the idea she might have been on the same wavelength as Raven, in terms of being interested in 'angst' and deeper aspects of the characters' personalities. But you'd have to check which episodes she had a hand in to guess what she brought to the table. On a sidenote, she coincidentally joined the show around the same time as Raven (the holiday specials before season 5 started, and on until the end of the show).

As for what I think of season 5, maybe there is effectively an increase in insane slapstick, perhaps aided by the change to digital medium. Some of the action feels different, but I don't have a strong opinion, there's already lots of debate about season 5 as it is. Generally I might be biased towards the first 4 seasons cause my very vague memories of seeing EEnE as a kid are of the summer episodes. I will say, though, I've noticed that there's something oddly nostalgic about BPS for me, as if I did see it as a kid on TV, some saturday morning... maybe it's just the 'feature-length movie made for TV' aspect of it that feels familiar, dunno. I will say, Rachel Connor was the writer for Smile For The Ed, and I think it shows in that Eddy is an innocent victim for once (and I think Eddy being written as a 'villain' protagonist was sort-of the pet peeve for Raven) It's something to consider, whether you like the episode or not (people compare it to Your Ed Here, but I think it's different, topic for another time). Then you have Fistful of Ed, which no doubt was what Raven wanted to see from the show, at least for Edd's character. A personal favorite is Boom, Boom, Out Goes The Ed cause literally half of the episode is taken by Kevin and Rolf subplot 😁 I like to imagine a full season 6 would have seen more of the other characters on their own 👀

[fangirlvibez]

The Bradshaw son and Seresin daughter - part 5

Characters: Bradley Bradshaw x female!OC Madison Ella Hanscott, Son!OC Nicolas Peter Bradshaw, Jake Seresin x female!OC Quinn Kelsell, Daughter!OC Hazel Alexandra Seresin, Son!OC Benjamin Jacob Seresin, OC!Connor Malcolm Oxland

Warnings: in this chapter: mention of teenage pregnancy. Navy inaccuracy (Let me know if I forgot a warning)

Summary of the story: The 16 year old daughter of Jake Seresin gets pregnant. The dad: the 18 year old son of Bradley Bradshaw. How will the dads react to their kids becoming teen parents.

A/N: English is not my first language, so if there is any spelling or grammar errors: please let me know

Previous part - next part - masterlist

“I heard some officers talking in the hallway” he started. “They were talking about the Top Gun teachers that still won’t retire” Nick could feel Hazel stiffen up. Nick swallowed before continuing. “I’m 99 percent sure they were talking about our dads”

July 29, 2046

Top Gun

Bradley Rooster Bradshaw and Jake Hangman Seresin were in the briefing room about the look over the newest members of their Top Gun class. “Have they asked you to retire too?” Jake asked while opening the folder with all the personal information of their new students. “Yes, they did. I already told them that I will retire when I decide to retire” he answered, taking the same folder out of his pack of documents. “Let’s see which smart asses we need to teach this year” he sighed.

Bradleys plan was to retire when Nick would get accepted into the academy. But with him gone he decided to not retire. Work kept his mind from wondering how his son was doing. Where they could be. What happened with the baby. What they were doing with their lives. After 5 years he felt as guilty as he did when he found out they were gone.

Jake kept quiet as well. His plan was to retire when Benjamin would go to university. And he did. One year ago, he left for university to study medicine. But Jake couldn’t do it. He couldn’t retire. The house felt too empty with Benjamin off to university and Quinn still working and Hazel gone from the home. He wondered the same thing as Bradley: where could they be? How were they? Where they still together? Where they still alive? Before his thoughts spiraled to the worst case scenario, he cleared his throat. “Let’s see shall we” he said.

~~~~~~~~~~

“So that was Lieutenant Charlotte Alyssa Polman. She is the only girl we have this year.” Jake finishes the information on the red haired girl. Her picture vanishes from the big screen in front of the room. “We have two more to go over. Pilot and WSO” he touches something on his tablet and a new picture appears on the screen. The man had black hair and blue eyes. He had a small scar on his lip, only visible if you look very closely.

“Lieutenant Connor Malcolm Oxland, callsign: T-Rex, age: 26. He is WSO to …” Jake stopped talking when he saw the picture on his tablet and the name under the picture. “WSO to who?” Bradley asked. He was tired and ready to finish this briefing. “Come on Hangman, their name can’t be that difficult to pronounce can it? Can you hurry up? I need to go home and walk the dog.” Jake looked up at Bradley before signing and pushing a button. The picture appeared on the screen and Bradleys eyes widen.

“WSO to Lieutenant Nicolas Peter Bradfield, callsign: Dash, age: 23.” Jake finishes his speech. Bradley looked at the picture. Even though the surname didn’t match, he knew the boy or rather man on the picture. It was his son. His 18 year old son who looked older now. He wasn’t the skinny 18 year old anymore who he remembered. He was a muscled 23 naval aviator now. An aviator who was coming to Top Gun. An aviator he was going to see live in front of him within a week. “I need to call Madison” he said. Rushing out of the room and towards his office where he called his wife with the exciting but scary information he received.

~~~~~~~~~~

June 4, 2046

Top Gun

The Bradfield family had landed at Top Gun. Hazel had managed to get a week off work to come visit her boyfriend during the first week of Top Gun. The family was staying in a small beach house 15 minutes from base.

“They are going to be here, I know they will” Nick told his girlfriend the evening before his first Top Gun class. It was almost 10 pm and the kids were already sleeping for 2 hours. Hazel was already sitting under the covers. Her back resting against the headboard. “Yes, they probably will. But don’t let them get under your skin. Show them how of a great man you became. How good of a pilot you are” she said. “You deserve to be here. You can’t let them ruin this for you” Nick nodded. Hazel was right. He and T-Rex worked hard to get here. He deserved to be here. “You’re right, what will I do without you?” He asked, leaning with his hands on the mattress to give his girlfriend a kiss.

Nick woke up at 4:45 am to get ready for his class. He had to be in the classroom at 6 am sharp. At 5:30 he was knocking on his neighbours door. A tired T-Rex opened the door. “Yes, yes. I’m awake. Let’s go” he mumbled to his best friend. Nick laughed, T-Rex was never a morning person while Nick was up and about the moment his alarm went off. The duo started walking towards base. “I just realise Dash” T-Rex started. Nick looked up from his boots to face Connor. “We’re about to start Top Gun. We’re in the number one percent of the Navy” he said. Nick nodded. Honestly he couldn’t believe it himself. “Yeah Rex, we’re in the top 1%.” The Top 1%. The top 1% his dad was also in. The top 1% his granddad was in. The top 1% his father-in-law was in. The fact started to sink in.

20 minutes later Nick and Connor were sitting in the classroom. They were sitting at the pathway on the third row from the front. 10 minutes. Within 10 minutes the class will start and Nick will see his father and father-in-law for the first time in 5 years.

Those 10 minutes felt like hours before they heard a strong voice. “Attention on deck!” All aviators stood up, before they were told to sit down again. Two men walked down the pathway towards the front of the classroom. Nick looked up when their boots walked past him. He could see the grey hairs on the back of their heads. Both men stood tall before turning and facing the class. He could see his dad and his greying mustache. He could see his father-in-law with the same green eyes of his girlfriend.

“Let me introduce ourselves. I’m Rear Admiral Bradley Bradshaw. Callsign Rooster. This is Rear Admiral Jake Seresin. Callsign Hangman. We will be your instructors for the next 13 weeks.” His voice hasn’t changed in 5 years, while Nicks became deeper. Bradleys eyes wander over the new students. His eyes stop when he meets similar brown eyes. Nicolas Dash Bradfield. He really wants to know why he changed his surname. Nick stared back, not looking away. He was trying to see what emotion his dad was feeling right now.

“We will start today with some basic dog fighting. We want to see what you’re capable of. How you work together and your skills in general. Rooster and I will be your targets. We already made pairs to fight against us. The first ones up are…” Jake started to explain, looking down at his clipboard. “Lieutenant Emmanuel “Razor” Sánchez with Lieutenant Nicolas “Dash” Bradfield and Lieutenant Connor “T-Rex” Oxland. The rest can start with some gym exercises. A trainer will be waiting for you in the gym hall. You’re dismissed” he said. Nick is the first one out of his chair. Too fast that Bradley doesn’t have the change to talk to him. Connor is shocked in how fast he was out of the room.

Connor runs behind his friend before he started walking next to him towards their plane. “What was that? Your callsign should be Flash with how fast you left the room” he laughed, hitting Nicks back with his hand. Before he can answer a loud voice came from behind him. “Lieutenant Bradfield” Nick stopped walking and turned around. His aviators sitting on his nose and blocking out the shining sun. Walking towards him was Bradley. Connor shares a look with Nick. “I’ll do the check up for our plane” he said, sensing that he wasn’t needed for this conversation.

Bradley stopped in front of his son. He could see the resemblance now he’s older. Madison always said he was going to look like him when he would be older. She wasn’t lying. “I’ll like to talk to you at the end of the day. 1700 hours. My office.” Nick nodded. Before turning and looking towards his plane. “Is that all Rear Admiral Bradshaw?” He asked, looking into his dads eyes. “Am I dismissed?” He asked. Bradley nodded and Nick didn’t hesitate to turn and walk towards Connor. He already knew this wasn’t going to be a calm conversation like he hoped it would be.

Taglist: @confusedpimp @dempy @michael-loves-chickens @massivedetectivestudent @starkleila @mirrorball-6 (if your username is crossed out it means I couldn’t tag you) (let me know if you want to be tagged)

[misslucysims]

Life by the beach is so sweet.

Morgana just found out she’s pregnant with Connor’s child, and is on cloud nine. She loves him so much, and can’t wait to raise a family with him. They’ll have their wedding this summer on this very beach.

I must admit, they're really cute together… but upon closer inspection, kind of yikes because…

Morgana is 110% all in but is Connor really ready for this? He’s a bit younger than her too and still getting started in his career… He knows she wants 5 kids right? And she’s already pregnant with one of them? He’s so supportive of her but is he really ready to be a father?

HE IS 19 YEARS OLD. I REPEAT. 19. And she’s 23. I don’t think EA meant to make him 19, that’s just according to my modded “realistic” aging system that’s probably interpreting it that way as he's one of the youngest Young Adults. It made me a do a double take!

Will this last? If it doesn’t, it’ll break Morgana’s heart that she'd just pieced together. She’s already got a vision of them having many beautiful children together, growing old together… Meanwhile Conner is here like… He loves her, and he also feels so bad for her for what she’s been through before… Can he separate the two enough to know what choice is really his own?

They're super sweet and great to each other, but still...

IS HIS BRAIN DEVELOPED ENOUGH TO KNOW IF HE WANTS THIS? THIS IS HIS FIRST RELATIONSHIP EVER TOO AND HE’S ALREADY ABOUT TO BECOME A DAD. HELP.

[3ris-d1st0rtionnn]

StoLE tHiS fILe FroM THe aRcHivES… dON’t TeLL @speyeralling-down-thy-majesty , bUt i JuST WantEd a LittLE MemENtO oF ThEsE EvENtS… eVEn ThouGh tHeY’Re StiLL iN My HaLLwaYs SomeWhErE :)

Statement of Jade Connor, regarding a strange theme park attraction. Recorded by [REDACTED], head Archivist of the Magnus Institute.

I don’t even know why I decided to send this your way. I know you won’t believe me, nobody does, I just… I need to feel sane for once after last week.

It was last Saturday, if I’m remembering right. I had taken my friend Emma out for a day at this small theme park at the edge of town. Emma Davis… That was her full name. I have to keep reminding myself.

The park was really nothing special, just a small place with a few standard carnival rides and food stands. In all honesty, we were just coming up on finals at university and needed to relieve the pressure with some mindless entertainment, but I had a sort of nostalgia for that park. I had been going there since I was around 8 years old, so I know the place like the back of my hand… It’s no wonder that I picked the new building out so easily.

It looked a bit like one of those old “ghost train” rides, but none of it was visible from the outside. The building was just a small, weathered black box with faded murals painted on the front that I couldn’t make out at all; if I looked closely, I could have sworn I saw the remnants of painted faces, but the paint had streaked and bled too badly to see any details. The only legible text was the word “FUN” in pink and green block letters above the singular entrance door. No information, no name, just “fun.” That should have been my cue to stay away, paired with the sense of paranoia I felt just seeing that damn building, but Emma was already heading in by the time I noticed, shouting her usual lighthearted mockery of me being “too scared.”

I can’t explain how, but I knew I couldn’t let her go in there alone.

The interior of the building was… strange. It definitely wasn’t a dark ride like I expected, more like some kind of funhouse. The entrance led us into a dimly-lit hallway; the walls, ceiling, and floor were all painted black, but it looked… unnaturally dark, as if we were standing in an endless void. A series of doors were painted on the walls, each one skewed oddly in perspective and painted in neon colors so bright, they hurt my eyes to look at too long. I could have sworn there were ultraviolet bulbs set up somewhere, but I couldn’t see any visible light fixtures… or anything, for that matter. No fire sprinklers, no exit signs, no electrical panels… Nothing.

I don’t know how long I was lost in my thoughts. My mind was screaming at me to turn around and leave, that something just wasn’t right here, but I was forced back to my senses by a low creaking sound. One of those doors, the ones that couldn’t possibly be real… somehow opened. It had been replaced by an opening in the wall that looked like it had always been there, with no trace of the door itself to be seen. I could hear Emma’s voice laughing in the distance, calling for me to “find her” and “catch up” before blending in with a cacophony of indistinct background music.

All I could do was run after her.

The hallway opened up into… I can’t even say if it was a room, a hall, or something completely different. It looked like the interior of a dark ride with no track, just a winding path surrounded by these strange props and cutouts, each one painted in those same, blinding neon shades. None of them looked like they were supposed to be animated, but I could have sworn I saw them moving from my peripheral vision. Everything around me was just… constantly shifting and changing, even the path itself was winding off into oblivion. And the music… That damn music. It sounded like 5 tracks of frantic cartoon music looping over each other. I couldn’t make out any words, any instruments, whether there were actual voices or if it was all an instrumental, but I felt like there was something in there, like a message I was supposed to understand. Did I hear Emma’s voice up ahead, or was it part of the audio? There was no way I could tell, but I could have sworn I heard her laughing.

I had to have been walking for hours, maybe even days. My ears were ringing, panic building up in my chest as I broke into a run, screaming out Emma’s name, struggling to navigate this deteriorating maze of lights and colors. The walls had faces. The props were pointing at me and laughing. The path was narrowing, trailing off into oblivion and herding me in one direction until… Until I reached the room. Until I saw it.

It was a small room, completely filled with doors. They were all stacked on top of each other, defying logic and space, the walls extending upward infinitely like some twisted rabbit hole I was at the bottom of. I somehow knew not to touch them, that they wouldn’t let me leave yet. And in the center of it all… God, I can’t describe the thing.

It was twice my height, this… complete mockery of a person. Its arms were far too long, allowing its clawed, twisted hands to scrape the floor as if they’d been dislocated from their sockets. The thing smiled, the corners of its mouth extending past its face, exposing what had to be around 7 rows of teeth. Its eyes constantly shifted in color, spiraling voids that pierced right through me. It said nothing at first, but I could hear the audible snap of its neck as it tilted at a painful angle, motioning toward one of the doors nearby.

Just past that door, I could hear Emma’s voice. I couldn’t tell if she was laughing hysterically or screaming, but the sound was… completely unnatural, a noise that came from the very depths of insanity.

“Don’t worry, she’s having fun.”

The thing’s voice felt like broken glass scraping my brain, like a voicebox that was nearly out of battery. My head pulsed with pain, a primal instinct of panic overwhelming my body.

The next thing I knew, I was sprinting down another hallway. My vision was fading in and out, the ear-bleeding soundtrack returning to laugh at me as that figure blinked in and out of my peripheral vision, always behind me as if it knew I wouldn’t get anywhere. The last thing I remember was dropping to my knees, my nails sinking into my arms as I screamed, and…

..and then I was back outside. The second my eyes snapped open, I was lying on the pavement, surrounded by concerned onlookers and emergency personnel. I can barely remember what they claimed had happened, something about a “spontaneous breakdown” leading to me collapsing.

It had only been two minutes since I apparently “broke down.” The building was nowhere to be seen.

Asking about Emma led to the same response of concern… There were no records of her ever entering the park. There were no records of her anywhere; trust me, I checked. Not in the contacts on my phone, not online, nowhere. It’s like she was just… erased as soon as that thing took her.

I haven’t left my home since then. I can still hear that damn music looping in my ears, I can see that thing in the corner of my eye… It’s only a matter of time before it comes for me next, and I know it won’t let me go this time.

Statement ends. A follow-up has been requested, but we can find no records of a “Jade Connor” or their contact information in our databases, except for this transcript.

[lovecla]

thank u for tagging me my angels: @hughesinthebox @toasttt11 @wintfleur @rowdyluv and @aleskie-hischier i love you ♡

“if you had spotify wrapped, but for which hockey players you talked about the most, who would be your top 5?”

🥇 jack hughes. is anyone even surprised like i cannot shut up about this man and i am one hundred percent sure that all of my friends (who don’t even like hockey in the first place) are tired of me.

🥈luke hughes. honestly lukey has been on my tongue literally every day for the past week so i think he deserves the second place in my wrapped.

🥉quinn hughes. ooo another hughes brother who would’ve thought? not me… not me.

4th: nico hischier. ever since i’ve started writing for nico i spent hours watching his interviews and videos and i’ve grown way too fond of our captain like if it already was a problem before now its even worse.

5th: connor bedard. MY CUTIE PIE. even though he’s older than me i see him as my child because he’s so freaking cute like hello wdym you’re a 19 year old millionaire? no. you’re clara’s baby.

i think all of my mutuals have already done this so i’m not tagging anyone :) feel free to do it if you haven’t already though! 🤎

[raviposting]

Kendall, Shiv, Roman, Connor, and uhhhhh Stewy 🥰

Stewy. It's actually Kendall but I'll be damned if I put a single Roy above Stewy Hosseini either, you know? Me and Stewy, POCs who are enraptured by Kendall Roy and his bullshit. It's called solidarity or whatever

Kendalllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll. I will always say that his meth filled rant at Logan in episode 7 rang so true he somehow reached across the aisle and we connected on one thing: being children of immigrants. And I was already obsessed with him but it was downhill from there I love him so much.

Connor. MY NUMBER ONE BOY!!!!!! Who is a 60 smth year old man!!!!! With no real beliefs and a failed political career!!! I love him!!!!

Shiv!!! My best cringefail girlboss. She makes me fucking sick in the head. God especially after season 4. I was already spinning about her but she made me asdfjkl even more ill.

Roman.

Send me 5 things and I'll rank them from favorite to least favorite!

[darthvashtique93]

Infiltration - part 5

They had been airborne for 10 minutes, and Red Robin was still trying to process everything that had happened in the last 2 hours. He stood from his seat. "I'll be back," he said to Superboy. He walked over to a private area of the ship and called Batman.

"Red Robin," Batman answered. "Are you okay? How was the mission?"

"Um…you may want to send ground forces to the island."

"There's a group already on their way. What happened?"

"A lot," Red Robin replied, "a lot. Um…we ran into Zachary Zatara."

"You found Zachary?" Batman asked, trying to keep his voice steady, but Red Robin could tell Batman was taken aback.

"He was missing?" Red Robin asked. "Why would you keep that to yourself?"

"Giovanni asked that only a handful of people know. Only the founding members of the League and Zatanna are aware of the situation."

"How long has he been missing?"

"Almost two months. I need to contact Giovanni."

"There's more," Red Robin said quickly, before Batman could end the call. "He wasn't the only teenager we found. There were four others—three girls and a guy."

"Okay."

"Enchantress was also there, along with Deathstroke and Rose."

"Okay," Batman repeated. "Return to Mount Justice. We'll talk there. I need to contact Giovanni."

Raven slowly blinked her eyes. Where am I? She looked around. The infirmary...at Mount Justice, she realized. What happened? Wait...the teens! Raven jumped to her feet, taking a moment to steady herself as her world spun. Hurrying out of the room, she ran straight into Constantine.

"John!" she exclaimed in surprise.

"Aye, luv. Just popping in to check on you," he replied.

"Wait...the teenagers I found," Raven said.

"No need to fret. They're safe at Justice League HQ. Congrats on your debut. Made it right exciting!"

"I don't understand."

"One of the nippers ya' found is the nephew of Giovanni Zatarra."

"What?" Raven asked, completely thrown by the information. "I...I..."

"Instead of a pat on the back, the bigwigs want to know how you were able to sniff him out in two seconds when they haven't been able to track him in two months. They suspect foul play," Constantine said with an eye roll.

"I did nothing," Raven frowned. "I've never met this Earth's Zachary."

"No worries. Batman and Black Canary set 'em straight."

Raven studied Constantine. Something was off about him. "Are you okay?" she asked worriedly.

"Yeah. Why?"

Raven studied him. Her brows rose in realization. "Are you sober?" Constantine gave her a deadpan stare. "Oh my goodness," Raven gave a rare smile, "that's why you feel...different. You're 100% sober."

"It's a right nightmare in the house I tell you. Black Orchid has me detoxing like a bugger. Turned all the liquor in the house into water; she's gone too far this time."

"You haven't gone through withdrawals?"

"No, I did. It was awful. Black Orchid showed me no mercy. Anyway, I just wanted to check in on you and warn you—you may get a visit from the Zataras."

"Thanks," Raven said.

"Alright. Imma go find a pub," Constantine said as a magic door appeared at the end of the hall. "This dry spell isn't my thing, y'know." Raven gave a small smile. "Alright, I'm off. Don't get into too much trouble, yeah? Catch you later, luv. I need ale."

Raven entered the common room where Superboy, M'gann, and Garfield sat.

"Raven!" Garfield exclaimed, turning into a small monkey and hopping onto her shoulder. "How are you?"

"Hungry," Raven replied. "How long was I out?"

"Just a couple of hours," M'gann floated over to her.

"Where is everyone?" Raven asked, noticing how empty the mountain was.

"On a mission," Garfield answered, "and at a rave. I wasn't allowed to go," he said, folding his arms and pouting.

"You received a shock of almost 400 volts of electricity," Connor said. "You're on IR. Also, you are only 12 years old. You're too young to attend a rave."

"Whatever," Garfield huffed.

"Bart and Connor told me how you saved me and Beast Boy," M'gann said to Raven.

"I didn't do much," Raven replied, wishing for her hood.

"That's not what Tim said," Connor added from his place on the couch. "He couldn't stop singing your praises to Batman. Shocked all of us."

"He sang my praises?" Raven asked in disbelief.

"Well…he said you were an immense help, and that the mission would not have been successful without you," Connor scratched the back of his head. "That's high praise coming from him."

Raven nodded. "High praise indeed."

"Well," Garfield hopped off Raven's shoulder and transformed back into a human, "you survived your first mission. This calls for a celebration."

"I don't know," Raven balked at the idea of socializing. She was tired and wanted to sleep.

"Maybe another time, Garfield," M'gann said, giving Raven an encouraging smile. "Raven needs to rest."

"Okay," Garfield agreed sadly.

"How about you do something with me and Connor?" M'gann suggested as Raven turned on her heel and walked to her room. Once again, not paying attention to where she was going, she ran straight into Tim. He grabbed her to keep her from falling.

"Sorry," Raven apologized, immediately pulling away. "I'm tired."

"You look exhausted," Tim agreed.

Raven glanced up to see him looking at her with such intensity that she promptly shifted her gaze to the ground. "Sorry," she muttered, scurrying around him.

"Thank you," Tim said. "And…I'm sorry I didn't believe you when you said there were captives on the island."

"It's okay," Raven shrugged, still looking at the ground. "I wouldn't have believed me."

"And…thank you for everything else you did on the mission." Raven looked up at him, surprised to see him shifting on his feet nervously. "You were a great help. We wouldn't have pulled it off without you."

"It's…fine," Raven hid her face behind her hair, unused to being complimented by Tim of all people. She took a small step back, preparing to make a run for it.

"I don't understand magic at all," Tim continued.

"Well," Raven gave him a slight smile, "no one really understands magic. I don't understand it most of the time. It just…is. It's like oxygen or gravity."

"Still…" Tim said. "I would like to understand. Whether I like it or not, you are my teammate. It would help me understand you, too."

"Understand me?" Raven questioned. "Why do you need to understand me? I don't… I don't know how long I'll be here or if I'm staying. Tim, you don't have to try so hard with me. It's not worth it. Getting to know me would be a waste of time."

"I disagree. Night," Tim said, brushing past her.

"Good night," Raven replied quietly.

Enchantress stood in the middle of an empty room in complete shock. They're—they're gone. How...? No one should have been able to find her subjects. No one. It had taken months of planning to collect the magic vessels she needed. Also, as strong as she was, one didn't just kidnap a family member of a Justice Leaguer. It was a stupid thing to do, and she had done it. Now she was back on the Justice League's radar. Usually, that wouldn't bother her, but the fact that someone had found her secret hideaway in a pocket dimension worried her. The Justice League was comprised of inept individuals who couldn't go toe-to-toe with her. How were they able to - "It was her," she growled as realization hit her like a ton of bricks. Somehow, that— that child had found her secret hiding place. Thinking about the girl with the violet hair and eyes, she began to seethe. Yet, beneath the anger, a sliver of fear lingered. The Enchantress had never met another magical being who could go toe-to-toe with her. Only one person had ever contended with her. That person was a being who had both destroyed and revived her just for fun. She frowned. She needed to let her benefactor—her master—know there was a snag in their plans. He would not be pleased.

Can't Helping Falling In Love - Chapter 1 - Vashti93 - Multifandom [Archive of Our Own]

[jules-van-hering]

@hustledbones tagged me for 5 songs I've been listening to recently and I decided I won't go to my repeat playlist to spare y'all all the bruce that's there atm. instead I'll give you some of that recently added stuff that's been playing a lot. here you go :)

apparently deadletter will play a show in my town this year, I had never heard of them before, but saw them advertised by the venue and liked the vibe. also really like their song the snitching hour. alt-indie with saxophone, ofc I'm gonna be down for that

unfortunately hey team dissolved last year and I just learned about them because it used to be a new friend's band. also really like their song o.k. sis. alt-rock-ish indie vibe

old friend played it for me in the car during an intense music exchange session, first reaction from me: that's a bob dylan impersonator! apparently this dope lemon dude is already quite successful. good for him

more saxophone! did not expect that. new music nerd friend is a big thin lizzy fan, I checked that out and was surprised how good it is. and no, this is not a cover of that other dancing in the moonlight song (of which the best version is by king harvest from the 70ies btw, not toploader)

after all I'm still a country gal. dale is my newest addition of cowboys. am really enjoying this one about him not having the money his love deserves just yet and trying to make his darling stay and be patient till he can afford that bling

I would like to get a glimpse into the playlists of @finch-connor @cowboy-jules @lottie-starling and @brucefuckingspringsteen if y'all would be so kind :) no need to write fucking essays like I did, a simple list is mighty fine ❤️