hi bestie! I don't even go here so idk if this happens in canon, but for the julie and the phantoms fanfic prompts, it would be cool to see trevor and the ghosts hang out. what sort of inside jokes do they share that julie is totally oblivious to?
idk if this even makes sense but just thought i'd share. good luck w your goal!! 💕
God, you're the best. You don't even go here! (you should go here, though, seriously, join me in hell). Thanks so much for this prompt, my friend, I hope you (and the people who go here) enjoy! :D
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Once the dam has been broken, the awkward pleasantries squared away, and the metaphorical elephants in Julie’s very real dining room slaughtered and stuffed, it becomes entirely too easy to see where Trevor Wilson once fit into Sunset Curve.
It’s not the same, obviously. He is now a forty-two-year-old man joshing around with his high school buddies who are both seventeen and dead. The movements they would have made to toss an arm around Bobby’s shoulder or drag him into a hug go aborted and unfinished now that he’s taller and broader than he used to be. The looks they give him— of exasperation at themselves, each other, or the world at large— go unshared, or met with wide-eyed blankness, because where they’ve had practice exchanging conspiratorial looks with Bobby in only the last year or so, Trevor hasn’t exchanged any with them in two and a half decades.
It’s obvious to Julie— to anyone who might have the misfortune of watching Trevor, Luke, Alex, and Reggie attempt to have a conversation over Julie’s dad’s dairy-free lasagna— where the cracks still lie, where twenty-five years and a whole lot of hurt have taken part of who they were as a group and thrown it away.
But Julie can see, more subtle though it might be, where the pieces fit together still, too. She can see how they used to be friends.
“So!” Luke says partway through dinner, leg visibly bouncing beneath the table. “Trevor.”
He gives him this look— quintessential Luke— like he needs Trevor to know he’s using his name as an insult, but instead of shying away, Trevor meets it head-on with a piercing look of his own— flat, unimpressed, one eyebrow raised just enough to draw attention.
It must be a quintessential Bobby look, because all three ghosts’ jaws drop, and Luke mutters something half-intelligible about forgetting what he was gonna say.
Later, Julie’s dad asks who wants dessert, and Alex deadpans, “Don’t let Bobby have any. Reggie’s only got one pair of pants.”
Dad goes still, and Julie watches Trevor with the same hesitation. He’s touchy around food as it is— for obvious reasons, though Julie still finds it a little funny that the boys who actually died from bad food have never once appeared to share the same reservations— and it must be weird to hear the ghosts of his bandmates call him by his old name.
But instead of getting upset, Trevor snorts and puts a hand over his face, shoulders shaking. Alex’s subtle smile turns a little more self-satisfied as Reggie enthusiastically launches into a story about his Bar Mitzvah suit and a poorly-placed tray of cream puffs.
When they’re cleaning up from dinner, Dad and Trevor end up at the sink together, elbow to elbow as Dad washes dishes and Trevor dries. Julie pauses in wiping down the table to watch them over the kitchen island for a moment. Dad says something low and Trevor laughs, leaning into his side and back again. They look happy.
“I hear wedding bells,” Reggie teases, appearing next to her.
After all this time, hse doesn’t jump. She could feel him coming even before he poofed. Still, she says, “I thought you guys were cleaning up the studio.”
“We are,” Reggie says. “Well, Luke and Alex are. I’m apparently ‘too much of a distraction’ and ‘too likely to break things’ so they told me to see if I could help in here.”
Julie laughs softly, reaching up to ruffle Reggie’s hair. “Well, I appreciate the offer, but I think we’ve got it handled.” She nods toward the kitchen, and only then fully registers what Reggie said when he came in. “Wait, did you say wedding bells?”
Reggie grins. “Oh, yeah. It might have been twenty-five years, Julie, but I still know Bobby. And that—” He points just as Trevor snaps a dishtowel at her dad’s butt— “is Bobby with a crush.”
“Oh my god,” Julie whispers. She turns around. She doesn’t want to see that. She doesn’t even want to think about it.
God, but the way Reggie just knew. It’s not just a best friend thing— Julie doesn’t think she’d be able to pick up on flirty Flynn that quickly, not if they hadn’t seen each other in a while.
It’s like Sunset Curve speaks its own language, one of looks and inside jokes and old stories and knowing each other more deeply than they know themselves. Julie doesn’t think she could learn it all if she tried.
Ray decides to participate in an old Christmas tradition he's been avoiding for a long time. Things complicate themselves when one of the reasons he's been avoiding it decides to re-enter his life.
Read on AO3 here!
This is my gift to @kybee1497 as part of the JATPFS Secret Santa! I hope you enjoy it and happy holidays!!
Thank you again to my fellow mods at @jatpfs for organising this, it’s been so fun taking part!!
Ik people have already said similar but why ship rayleb when “dad of the year every year, father of the children of the year every year” and “dad who’s trying his best to encourage his hell spawn (affectionate) to become a better person” is a fucking fantastic dynamic.
Like I’m sorry but Ray and Trevor being good friends before rose died but afterwards just calling each other in the middle of the night like hey man it’s been a minute but can we please just do the “girl things” conversation together and then go for bottomless brunch I can’t do it alone, and Carrie just told me she wants to apologise to Julie but doesn’t know how, and I’d help except I’m worth several million dollars and apologise by sending cards and flower bouquets worth several months rent for a New York studio apartment and somehow j don’t think that’s what Julie would want is absolutely fucking brilliant
Not to start shit on main but I’ve got beef with rayleb.
There are so many things you could do.
Ray and Trevor, single dads with smart, strong teenage daughters who used to be besties but now can’t stand each other. You can’t tell me ray and Trevor weren’t close before the fall out
Rose/Ray/Trevor, rayvorose, Borosay, the other ship name I can’t remember (sorry jon). Rose brings home grieving Bobby. They all become friends and eventually get together but then something happens and/or rose dies. It’s tragic, there’s nothing to be done.
You could even go with Trevor/Caleb. Caleb as the murderous trophy husband and Trevor is the rich, pretty, somehow unkillable husband. Caleb hates it, they grow on each other.
But if you think Ray Molina, the og himbo, winner of the best dad award every single year, man who loves and respects his children so much, supports Julie in everything she does, the love of my life, that man would take one look at this gay magician ghost who tried to ruin his daughters first chance at happiness since her mother and his wife died and think anything other than murder, think again ho’s (affectionate)
Sunset Memories Oneshots: Number 46-Talking to a memory (Boggie/Rayvorose)
Tonight was supposed to be the night everything changed, the night where Bobby was going to ask out the love of his life. They were going to go to the same college and spent their summer in the countryside for some peace before the rush of full-time student life; parties, tours and hopefully a new beginning away from the chaos of home.
Tonight wasn’t that night, and that night would never come, because there was no love of his life to ask, no lapel to pin a corsage on, no words of wisdom to give, all of that went six feet under at the funeral, along with any chance of happiness Bobby had ever hoped for when he met the boy with the red flannel and cheeky grin.
Can I have a fic where Ray is convinced he's being gaslit because the fridge is always open
hey frieeeend sorry this took so long lol, but I hope you like it!!
read this on ao3 here:
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Trevor Wilson is knee-deep in ghost lore and Julie and the Phantoms music videos, trying to figure out how in the name of rock music and sanity his dead bandmates might have been turned into holograms, when the phone rings.
He picks it up without bothering to check the Caller ID, says, “Go for Trevor,” and takes a sip of kombucha, all without looking away from his computer screen—
—and then does a spit take when Ray Molina’s voice says, “Hey, Trev.”
“Ray!” Trevor scrambles for a towel, trying to mop up the sprayed kombucha before it can get his papers sticky. He’s got half a library spread across his desk—books about ghosts and reincarnation and hologram technology, articles about Sunset Curve and Julie and the Phantoms, the boys’ death certificates—some of it priceless (or close to; he had to bribe the California Department of Vital Statistics with $30,000 and free backstage passes to next year’s Grammys for those certificates).
Once he’s fairly certain nothing’s been ruined, he leans back in his chair and turns his attention back to the phone, trying to sound casual and cool. “Hey, man, how can I… uh, what’s… you… Hi.”
Okay, so that’s a fail in the casual and cool department, but can you blame him? Trevor hasn’t seen Ray since Rose’s funeral, where he hung at the back of the crowd, holding Carrie as she held back tears but not letting either of them approach the family that was no longer theirs. He hasn’t talked to Ray—like really talked to him—in even longer. In years. Since Rose shouted and cried—How could you? What happened to respecting their memory? You lied to me, Bobby!—and Ray looked at him with hard, sad eyes, and said, “You have to go. I’m sorry.”
He says, “I’m sorry,” now, and it sends shivers down Trevor’s spine. “I didn’t mean to bother you. I just… I wanted to ask you something?”
Trevor frowns, glancing nervously over at the music video still playing on mute on his computer—at the image of Luke Patterson making rockstar heart eyes at Julie Molina in the middle of a guitar solo. “Yeah? Shoot.”
“I was wondering if you could recommend a psychiatrist for me? I think I’ve been… seeing things.”
Trevor’s stomach drops. That’s. Not at all what he thought this conversation was going to be about. “Uh—yeah, yeah, of course, um.” He yanks open his desk drawer and starts rifling around for his address book. He thinks he’s got the numbers of some of Dr. Crystal’s colleagues written down somewhere. “A-are you okay? I mean, what… kind of things have you been seeing?”
Ray’s quiet a little while, as Trevor rummages around spare guitar picks and cashed checks. When Ray finally speaks, he sounds embarrassed, which is an emotion Trevor’s not used to hearing from him. “It’s not so much seeing things that aren’t there as… seeing things I can’t explain? And Julie and Carlos act like they’re no big deal? I thought… maybe I was just forgetting things? But… now I’m not sure if my children aren’t gaslighting me.”
Trevor huffs out a laugh, and redirects his search to a different drawer. A neurologist might be more what Ray needs here; luckily Trevor’s got a couple of those in his contacts too. “What kind of things?” he asks again.
“A pink hoodie in the laundry that’s too big on Julie or Carlos and I know I’ve never worn before. Puppy adoption websites open on my phone after I’ve been home alone all day. Pies missing before we get a chance to eat them, and someone keeps leaving the refrigerator open?”
Trevor stills, abandoning his search. Pink. Puppies. Pies?
So. Alex. Reggie. Luke. Got it.
“Hey, Ray…” He sits up, holding the phone tighter to his ear. “How much do you know about Julie’s band?”
“The holograms? Not much, honestly.”
“Okay, follow-up question, then. You believe in ghosts?”
Okay my wonderful friend @wadewaits thought of this after a hella long discussion of the sibling-sitch if everyone was alive and we had alive Bobby and rayvor, and came up with what would be a fantastic Disney channel show opening:
Someone: okay so how many siblings do you have?
julie: okay so biologically one
carlos : *waves*
julie : but i count this one as my sibling cos she’s my best friend
flynn : hiya!!
julie : but then my dads-
rayvor : *smiles*
julie : -got married so i got two new ones?!
carrie&bobby : *finger guns and hair flip*
julie : but then we were turned into like a ‘kids with bad home lives adoption center’ so we got another three
lukereggiealex : *doing the dirty dancing lift in the corner*
julie : and finally we have the only significant other that isnt already mentioned
willie : *thumbs up*
julie : i think that’s it?? NO WAIT NICK, he has a good home life but we hang out cos he’s cool
