Gonna do all these sunflowers first (on the inbox grind haha). Anyhoo hello!! Thank you so much for sending this in <3 And for you I give some christrev headcanos (for pride month obvs).
Chris isn't one for using nicknames, however will slip in a 'darling' etc when he is either in a state of panic or intoxication. He can't do it in a normal dituation because my guy is a worrier and would over think it.
Trevor really hates when he gets angry and has worked a lot on his anger and not immediately resorting to some method of violence (not against Chris, obvs, but rather, storming outside and kicking over a bin or punching a wall etc). He and Chris almost have a system for when they get into proper arguments where they will just glare at each other after the yelling spat and then just each exchange a very low 'I love you' in assurance before sitting in seperate rooms for a while, doing their own thing and cooling off. They'll reconvene later with either a snack of some sort or a drink and have a proper discussion but yeah I think it's a system they've found that works for them. I love arguing christrev <3
Oooh actually what if I did a pride thing?? Okay wait this could go wrong: Christrev first pride, an attempted short piece by me :)
Trevor had already lost him. How the fuck had he already lost him. They'd only just got here, they'd been to the bloody tent and the butch had given them their bloody wrist bands, now where the fuck had Chris gone?
This was a bad idea. Chris had been so nervous about coming to Cornley's make-shift pride festival, but Trevor had some mates who worked at the Closet running the drinks tent so of course he wanted to go. He'd told Chris he didn't need to do anything he didn't want to, just to tick off some gay bucket list but before he could get a word in Chris was talking himself into it. Something or other about 'small town reputation' came out of the daft sod's mouth and Trevor knew he had lost the fight for reason again. The second Chris convinced himself something was good for appearances, whether it was for the theatre or for Trevor in the face of his friends wasn't very clear to the stage-manager in this particular case but then again he wasn't sure it was clear to the director either. He just had that manic spark in his eyes and he was already trying to pick the best scarf from his collection for the trip.
And now Trevor found his eyes flicking from kneck to kneck, looking for the plum purple one the director had eventually selected. There was a fair few feather boas, lei and one or two dog collars but not a tasteful scarf in sight. Jesus. He could be anywhere. Trampled by platform heels, knocked out by a flag pole or maybe self-combusted after seeing some of the outfits people saved until June, he was much too proper for most of what Trevor thought were the best ones.
The stagemanager's heavy boots kicked up dust from the sun-dried ground as he pushed his way through the crowds. Like loosing his best screwdriver, he tried to think of the last place he'd put his boyfriend. He definitely remembered standing beside him as they got their wristbands, that was way back at the welcome tent though there was no way-
His feet carved into the crushed remnants of grass beneath him as his eyes caught a purple highlight on the edge of his vision. Assuming he was competent enough not to have immediately lost the things that meant most to him, he'd been in the middle of storming his way to some of the small busines stalls on the far side of the welcome tent. He shouldn't have had such a high expectation for himself it turns out because there Chris was, stood stock-still by the wall to the tent's entrance.
As it had been for the last few minutes, Trevor's mind assumed the worst. Another panic attack, an instant regret for ever coming here, a realisation that maybe all this gay shit wasn't for him and he should leave Trevor and run off with Robert's sister and-
But no. As he approached, the stagemanager's pace slowed and he assessed the situation for what it really was. Chris, standing in the middle of this colourful, overwhelming, purposefully too-much celebration, staring completely dumbfounded at his own wrist. The realisation actually made Trevor smile and he sidled up beside the director. The man didn't even seem to notice.
"Pretty cool, ain't it?" Trevor eventually spoke, taking the time to look down at his own corresponding wristband. Intricate, rainbow patterning, curving like a banner around it and the words 'Cornley 2026' emblazzoned in bright white font in the centre.
Chris jumped at the noise and his eyes finally left the band, a little misty. His cheeks flushed at the realisation that he had just been transfixed by a paper piece of jewellry, but Trevor didn't let him panic. Instead he just grinned over to this strange, beautiful man, and took his band-wearing hand with his own.
The director looked back for a moment, completely serious and after a couple big breaths nodded, brimming with determination and, if Trevor wasn't wrong, some excitement.
OMG I DID IT!!! OKAY WOW! Well, I hope you liked that. That was all stream of consciousness and very rushed, so I'm sorry if it sucks. Thanks again for the ask and HAPPY PRIDE!!!
baratheonpilled
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titsay
