look at me!

[tristencarter]

t h o m a s;

Thomas hadn’t been looking at the person he spoke to, only catching a midriff in his line of sight, mumbling his words of unwelcome, and taking another drink of beer. His eyes were drawn upwards to the speaker, somewhat taken back by the size of the guy, but saying nothing. “I’m fascinated to hear how I’d end up as a doormat so please, enlighten me.”

Tristen felt the anger bubbling up in him, waiting to explode. “I swear to God these fucking fancy ass white boys...” He quietly muttered under his breath, crossing his arms. “Simple. Your pretty face, my fist, one knock, down, throw you in front of the fuckin’ door, tada, feel enlightened yet?”

[tristencarter]

a m e l i a;

“Huh,” Amelia let out, looking up for a moment. “That would be kind of cool, actually–only if I had all four, though. I could say I knew the Beatles,” she mused. “He is? What got you down the dog-owning route?” She asks, though Elvis was actually her first pet, as well. 

“That would confuse people so much,” Tristen grinned like a mischievous little boy. “They’d be thinkin’ you’re an idiot or tryna count if you were even alive when Lennon was shot.” For some reason, the thought really amused him. “Dunno, it’s the cliche of, like, you know, having someone waitin’ for you when you get home and stuff. Plus I’m an animal person. And a kid person. Any living bein’ person, to be honest.”

[tristencarter]

m i c a h;

“I guess that’s a good point… but I mean, at the same time, isn’t it better to explore all the options that don’t involve prostitution first?” he grimaced, hating himself for digging their conversation further into the creepy sugar baby hole. At least Tristen seemed to enjoy the subject more than he himself did. “So you’re more of a chocolate baby than a sugar baby, then?” Immediately, he regretted his words that would surely only egg Tristen on. “You know what, forget I asked.” Now he couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. They were actually having this discussion in a park, in front of a puppy. “Honestly, once you’ve had to deal with crazy people 100 times, you start to get creative. After a while you can kind of tell who’s just being difficult on purpose, and I just try to get them out of there any way I can.”

“Honest answer - prostitution or dealing?” For a second, it was like a light bulb lit above his head. “Okay, even better - prostitution or dumpster diving?” What was up with his questions? The truth was, Tristen just wasn’t the best at filtering his thoughts before they became words. Plus the fact he didn’t get uncomfortable very easily didn’t make him the most sympathetic person to other people being embarrassed. “Chocolate baby works, but if someone starts calling me cocoa then I’mma just call out their racist ass and bounce the fuck off,” Tristen laughed. He had started the bad joke, and the guy had no reason to feel bad about it. “Oh, yeah, I get that. I’m guessing it’s fun at times, too, tho?”

[ionecora]

Star-crossed Losers | Tris & Ione

[tristencarter]

i o n e;

Ione rolled her eyes at him. “Shut up, you’re both handsome and cute. Now stop taking my compliments as insults, malákas,” she said, throwing a small piece of bread at him. It was her place, so she could make as much of a mess as she wanted to, especially in order to tease Tristen. She knew that he was aware that he was attractive, but she still made a point of telling him that. Everyone needed to hear it once in a while, herself included, and even though neither she nor Tristen wore their insecurities on their sleeves, she felt like they had a mutual understanding that compliments were needed sometimes. Especially considering how often they insulted each other - jokingly, but insulting nonetheless. “No big rings, but I’ll prepare to be your girlfriend if needed,” she promised with a smile. That wasn’t the worst thing in the world. She nodded at his question, “Yeah, I’ll bring a hair tie and if I need you to step in, I’ll make a ponytail. Or you know, I’ll just text you if he’s not fully at serial killer level.”

She groaned softly at his teasing, knowing it was completely true. “She’s already picked out her outfit, I‘m sure. Probably working on the speech…” she laughed and shook her head at her parents’… dedication to her relationship with Tristen. The Coras were determined to see the two married someday, no matter how many times Ione informed them that she was not even dating Tristen anymore. “Okay first of all, male cheerleaders are hot,” she told him, “Secondly, you’re plenty masculine, so you have nothing to worry about. I just love that I get to see your adorable soft side too once in a while.” She leaned in and smirked at him as she pinched his cheek. “Fine, okay, no puppies, no guys lining around the block to eat here. Sounds like a kind of stressful combination anyway, and God knows we don’t need that kind of negative energy around here.”

“Okay, okay,” Tristen sighed dramatically, and with his pretty flawless reflexes, caught the bread she was throwing towards him easily and instead threw it in his mouth, biting down to it with a grin. He loved when Ione threw in those little Greek words here and there, for some reason, it was really sexy to Tristen. Maybe he had a thing to foreign languages and accents and whatever, but it was so fascinating to him, a South Carolina man that could barely talk English. Rubbing the side of his neck with his fingertips unconsciously, grinning at Ione. “Thanks, baby girl,” he returned the smile. “Yeah, good, good. If he’s on a serial killer level, tho, then just call the cops.” Tristen shook his head a bit, lifting his fork up again to enjoy another bite. “And remember, if I’mma start rapping Eminem, that’s a code fucking red.” 

“You know my momma’s got the whole wedding menu already planned out,” he rolled his eyes. He had no idea why both of their parents’ were so excited about them ( okay, he did know, it was the chemistry they had ) but for fuck’s sake, they weren’t even dating, not even sleeping together that often - not that their parents knew about that anyways. “You, Ione Sophia Koutsopoulos Cora, have the strangest fucking taste in men. Cheerleaders, what else,” Tristen snorted at her, but was lowkey feeling blood flush to his cheeks at her comment on his adorableness and the way she pinched his cheek like he was seven years old or whatever. Thank Jesus Ione wasn’t able to see him blush. “Mom, you’re embarrassing me,” he groaned jokingly, before nodding in agreement. “Yeah. No negativity. Only good vibes here.”

[tristencarter]

e l l a;

Ella kept her eyes firmly fixed on her toes, trying to calm her racing heart. This was stupid, but she could feel the oncoming panic like a train barreling towards her, threatening with an attack. She refused to have one here, in public. Steady breathing, counting the colors she could see, the things she could hear through the halls, she kept the anxiety at bay, barely. He was apologizing and she couldn’t help but look up with eyebrows wrinkled in confusion. “I’m fine.” She said quietly, hating how small her voice sounded. There had been a time when she would have told him to fuck off and kept moving, but now she just stood there staring like a half-mute idiot. “Did you really just change your mind on whose fault it was because you saw I’m a woman?” The words came out before she could realize what she was saying, but she couldn’t bring herself to regret them. This was a stranger, and if he hit her then she could hit back. Not that she thought he would with all of his apologies, but old habits died hard. 

Okay, Tristen had a way with people, reading them, he was a fucking fireman, he had to be good with them. Even with his aggressive side rising it’s head from time to time, he was sensitive. And right now he sensed he had really upset the woman. Rising his hand to rub his short, black curls right on the top of his head where he felt tension right now, he sighed. He had properly messed up. “Fuck, yeah, I did. Sorry ‘bout that too.” He knew he was old-fashioned when it came to women - that was how his momma had raised him and it was hard to break. Tristen didn’t believe women were inferior in any way, fuck, the complete opposite of inferior, but he would never, never ever, raise his hand against one, yell at them, argue with them, anything, even look at them in an angry way. “Not that, like, I’d think you’re not badass or anything, but yelling at a girl I don’t know... Hell no.” Tristen had no idea whether his explanation was making it worse or better, but it wasn’t like he could just keep quiet and go on his way.

[tristencarter]

k e l;

“I’ve learned that music can be a blessing. It distracts them.” Kel said, with a conspiratorial grin. He didn’t get along with most guys, but this was something akin to common ground, with the dogs and the kids. They were far from the same thing, but it did at least give something to talk about besides whatever regular single guys usually talked about. “Nice to meet you, Tristen.” Kel shook his hand. “Oh, yeah, sure. This has got to be what casual acquaintances talk about all the time. Regular dinner conversation.” He joked, chuckling along with the other. “Barely. I feel like a zombie most days. God, and the rules. No nuts, no gluten, no sugar, no red dye, nothing store bought, no butter, I don’t even know what’s left to make for bake sales.”

“What’s the best distraction for your kids, the Wiggles or Metallica?” Tristen asked jokingly. He really liked the guy that hadn’t yet escaped his shitty jokes like a normal, regular, sane person would’ve done. “Nice to meet you too,” he returned Kel’s grin. “Yup! All the fancy dinner parties I get invited to all the time talk about this kinda shit there, always,” he continued the road of bad humor he had stepped into in the beginning of the conversation. “Oh shit, that’s rough. Literally, what do they want to sell there even, lettuce and kale?” Tristen lifted his arms a bit in confusion. “If you’re a good cook tho, that can work out too.”

[tristencarter]

a l e x;

@tristencarter

Every time her brother was back in town, things went wrong – it was almost like clockwork and, though Alex was forever trying to look after the oldest Bautista sibling, sometimes, his nonsense was a little too much, even for her. Packing her things into a bag on Ella’s stroller, she panicked, her baby held high on her hip. “We’re going to Uncle Tristen’s,” she muttered, stroking her cheek gently. “Just for a couple of hours. Just so Aaron thinks we’re not at home and leaves us alone.” She was yet to introduce her brother to Ella, wanting to keep her away from his bullshit and she understood the irony that the child’s blood wasn’t referred to as her Uncle while Tristen was. It was a no-brainer, in her eyes. Yet her mother wouldn’t see it like that. And nor would Aaron.

She hadn’t exactly cleared it with Tristen, in fact, she hadn’t even put much thought into what she was doing, but with Ione on air and Delia in the midst of what could only be described as the world’s most horrendous wedding, she couldn’t think of anyone else she trusted enough. Not with Ella. As much as she loved showing off her little girl, letting her meet all of her friends and colleagues in Ormont, the thought of simply turning up on someone’s doorstep with her took a certain kind of friend. And, once the eleven-month-old was safely tucked into her stroller, Alex took off, heading for Main Street without any hesitation. Babbling to Ella all the way, she maintained a smile on her face, certain her plan would allow her to get her brother off her back while catching up with a friend. What could be better?

Reaching Main Street was the easy part, of course, what with it all being downhill from Westrock, but once she got there, she wasn’t entirely sure what to do. Should she take food? A gift? Something to bribe him into letting her stay? Eventually, she decided against it, heading straight for Tristen’s home and knocking on his door. As she waited for him to answer, she wiped down her daughter’s face, trying to make her look slightly more presentable and when the door opened, she was standing, bib in hand, looking slightly dishevelled. “Care to help a damsel in distress?” she asked, straightening up a little. “Ella is the damsel. Not me. Obviously.”

Tristen had had the most usual of days. And, since he was a puppy dad nowadays, a usual day meant absolute chaos. He had woken up in the morning to the most horrendous of smells caused by Busta Rhymes’ puke all over his bedroom carpet - at first he’d panicked Busta was sick, before seeing he had gotten into the trash and found week-old leftover Chinese food, and realized the vomiting was only because of the dog’s greediness. This whole situation and the hour-long clean-up it required had made him late for work, and after what had been a day at the station even more boring than watching the paint dry, he had gotten home to find Busta had made his Jordans into a snack. His fucking Jordans. When that mess was cleaned up, they were home from the dog park, Busta was finally sleeping, he had a huge bowl of pasta in front of him, and he was watching Rick and Morty, the usual day felt like it was slowly sliding into a good day. And that’s when someone knocked on his door.

Cursing under his bed as Busta woke up and barked a couple of times, Tristen got up and opened the door with a little too much force and probably a very sour expression: but that only lasted until he saw who was standing there. “Hi!” His voice was very high-pitched in excitement as he greeted Ella first, before focusing his eyes on Alex, a huge smile on his lips. “Why’re you even asking? Of course,” he shook his head, before stepping out of the way so he didn’t block the doorway. “Come in, come in.” Busta was there running around in their legs, and for a moment it was sort of chaotic, before he picked up his puppy and put him into his little puppy crib. “What’s up? You all good?” Tristen turned back to Alex, noticing how she looked... a little disheveled. “And, for the record, if you’re ever the damsel, I’d help you out too.”

[tristencarter]

m i c a h;

“Yeah, I know, I’m really not taking enough advantage of the baby face… but I guess I’m trying not to lose my dignity completely before I hit rock bottom, financially,” he said with a chuckle, feeling his cheeks flush slightly at the conversation. Thinking about hypothetical sex with old ladies for money was… well, not his favorite topic. “Maybe I can hook you up too, if it’s ever needed. I’m sure they’d love you too.” He tried teasing the other man back, but he wasn’t sure it was really doing much. Tristen just seemed too cool. “Dude, I have no idea. I think they assumed it was just a name, but… I don’t know. Maybe she only wanted to complain. I told her I’d make a new one, then handed the same one back to her, and she left.”

“I suggest taking the advantage a long time before hittin’ the bottom,” Tristen grinned mildly, seeing as the other guy obviously was sort of uncomfortable with the subject. Well, in all honesty, it wasn’t a usual park chitchat. “Yeah, I can fullfil all their chocolate-y dreams.” He wasn’t sure whether he was mocking himself, the possibility of becoming a sugar baby, or the old ladies dreaming of hooking up with a hypersexualized stereotype of a black man. Maybe all of them, and whatever it was, Tristen found it absolutely hilarious. “Wow, that was sorta badass, tho. Imagine all the can-I-speak-with-the-manager- shit if they would’ve noticed you didn’t make a new one. But... what a bitch, honestly.”

[tristencarter]

a m e l i a;

Laughing a bit, Amelia shrugged. “Maybe a bit?” She adds on, locking her phone and putting it back in her pocket. Pondering his recommendation, she adds, “that’s not bad, I could see getting Elvis a brother named Ringo. I mean, that’s kind of the most dog name out of all of them,” she mused. “But I think I’m good with just Elvis for now. He already drives me crazy enough some days–in the best way possible, of course.” 

“A bit,” Tristen confirmed, a smile still upon his lips. Busta was sitting down next to him like the good boy he was - or was going to be. “That’s true. I personally could see a doggo named Lennon, too, that’d be cool.” Tristen’s inner lameness was really starting to show during this conversation, but whatever. He grinned. “Yeah, I get that - Busta is my first dog, and I’m suddenly finding all those memes about dog owning much more relatable.”

[tristencarter]

e l l a;

The studio wasn’t everything Ella expected, but it was a place she could teach and fight, and that would be enough for her. It would take a little time to get used to being around so many people after being isolated for so long, but she knew that she would feel better once she did. She’d already gotten in a session with a punching bag and was a good deal sweatier and more tired than she had been in a long time, as she shouldered her back and tried to slip through unnoticed. Until her bag caught on someone, and she found herself stumbling, turning to glare at the person. “How about you watch where you’re fu-” She stopped mid-sentence, feeling for a half-second like she’d been punched in the gut when she thought she was looking at David. But no, David was taller, thinner. She forced herself to breathe again. “Sorry.” She forced out, looking away before she could be accused of staring.

@tristencarter

Boxing was Tristen’s way of letting the steam out. The second in his life he’d chosen to take, like, the law-obeying path, he had known random bar brawls couldn’t be a part of his life anymore, but there was something he needed to control that aggressiveness that undeniably still was there; and that’s how he had started sparring. These days he had a good routine, and it was actually something he really enjoyed. The studio was so familiar to him, that he wasn’t really focusing on where he was going, mind completely elsewhere, when he realized someone had, well, gotten caught on him. “What the fuck man?” Tristen turned around, and as he saw her and heard her, it wasn’t a man, and also, that there was something... wrong. The woman had already gathered herself, but something about the look on her face made Tristen apologize excessively - he was trying to be a good person nowadays, anyways. “No, fuck, it was my bad,” he shook his head. “You’re right, I wasn’t watching where I was going - fuck, I’m sorry.” Oh, what a Shakespeare he was, with all of those beautiful fucks in the sentence. “You all good?”

[tristencarter]

k e l;

“Don’t forget the loud squealing and always chasing them around.” Kel pointed out. He wouldn’t separate the two despite those things, but he was still aware of them. Abigail, as it was, was more than happy to receive the sloppy tennis ball, taking it promptly throwing it off in the opposite direction for the dog. “Oh, apparently. You know, most people would find this a strange conversation for two strangers to have.” He could just imagine someone overhearing it, and being horrified over it, which only made him laugh again. “I know plenty of those parents, I have to deal with the PTA of her school. It is not pretty.”

“Oh God, yeah, the squealing,” Tristen groaned. He loved kids, but high-pitched noises weren’t exactly his favorite thing in the world. For the same reason he always left the club when a bachelorette party arrived. He laughed at the guy’s next words. “That’s so true. I’m Tristen,” he offered him his hand. “Now we’re strangers no more, so this counts as a totally normal conversation, right?” He grinned, absentmindedly following his puppy with his eyes. “PTA, what a nightmare. My condolences, bruh. You’re still alive at least though.”

[tristencarter]

l o l a;

“A whole couch?” She looked back at Busta Rhymes, only to mouth ‘wow’ at the incredibly adorable lab as if he was privy to her thoughts. “Diddy,” she repeated, still scratching Busta’s head, as if mentally trying the name on for him. “Yeah, I can’t see him as a Diddy. I think you made the right choice. I would’ve probably gone for Snoop or Lil Bow Wow for super-obvious reasons. But I’m not that creative.”

“Okay, I was exaggerating, only, like, one fourth of the couch,” Tristen grinned, but it was true. One day when he’d gotten home, there had just been tons and tons of foam and shredded fabric everywhere. “Thank you,” he mused as she approved his name choice. “Don’t underestimate yourself, those are pretty dope actually. I just had my mind set on 90s East Coast rappers.”

[ionecora]

Star-crossed Losers | Tris & Ione

[tristencarter]

i o n e;

Ione nodded appreciatively when he flexed for her - it was a bit tacky, but Tristen was way too attractive for it not to be an enjoyable sight. Sometimes she really wished things had worked out between them, but on the other hand, if it had, their friendship would never have evolved to this point. And if there was one thing Ione was sure of, it was that Tristen’s friendship was invaluable. She was incredibly lucky to have it. “You’re gorgeous, we all know it,” she agreed with a soft laugh before she took another sip of wine, definitely needing that after the sight. “We’re cute, and everyone wants to get in on that. Can’t really blame them.” It was arrogant as hell, but it was also proven to be true. “But yeah, no jailtime. We’re just gonna have to be good and try to stay out of trouble… first time for everything, huh?” she grinned at him, “We should just reimplement the ‘hey I’m the girlfriend’ method if someone gets too much. Do I need to put on a big ring?“

She smiled proudly when he complimented her food again. Even for Tristen, this was high praise. She practically felt like Gordon Ramsay. “You don’t have to marry me to get dinner,” she reminded him with a light shrug, “It’s honestly pretty nice to have my own personal cheerleader in the kitchen. Very encouraging.” Ione took another bite of her food - she had to admit, it was pretty good. Her grandmother would have been proud of her. “Maybe don’t be too effective, though, because we’ll end up with a line around the block,” she joked, “It’ll be like that Friends episode with Monica’s candy. And you will have to share.” She raised her brows back at him when he questioned her brilliant idea, “Shut up, you know it would be adorable. We’d be puppy parents, and you can’t even pretend you wouldn’t love that.”

“Thank you,” Tristen said with a huge and slightly stupid smile. Yeah, he knew he looked okay, but it was kind of nice to know someone else thought so as well, especially Ione who was easily the most beautiful woman he had ever seen; her stating his gorgeousness even as a joke felt like an actual compliment. Tristen needed those sometimes, as he occasionally was a little bitch full of self doubt. “You might be cute, but I’m handsome. I’m not cute,” he snorted after Ione’s next words; but really, he didn’t care what Ione called him. She could call him cute all she wanted. She just didn’t have to know that she had Tristen that wrapped around her little finger. “Trouble is good as long as we’re not getting caught,” he gave her a quick, mischievous grin. “No big rings tho, it can end up being just more trouble - but the girlfriend method always works. You still remember what’s our sos signal?”

“Maybe, but marrying you would make your momma happy,” he teased her as he placed his utensils down to take another sip of wine. “First cute, now I’m a fucking cheerleader? Ione...” he sighed, pretending to be absolutely devastated. “I ain’t feeling so masculine right now.” He was only joking, of course, and soon was smiling again: how could he not smile with Ione there sitting right in front of him? “No. Sharing is shit. Bad idea. The whole thing is cancelled now.” With a wave of his hand and a grin, he brushed away their plan, his smile turning to chuckle at Ione’s very ineffective command to shut his mouth. “Adorable, yeah, for like the first fifteen minutes. Then... ehh,” Tristen paused, tilting his head. “Okay, but I admit, I’d love it.”

[tristencarter]

k e l;

“I don’t know about good match. Maybe a little terrifying, and messy. Good for them.” He could say that, but he also knew he wasn’t about to separate Abigail from her newfound friend. “Really?” His daughter asked. “Do you have any toys for him?” Kel couldn’t help but laugh, both at his daughter and the other man’s reply. “See, there was this accident in the middle of it..” Again, he waved him off. “I’m not worried about it. Having kids didn’t make me a prude.”

“Yeah, you’re right, it’s just fur, dirt and knocked over furniture for us,” Tristen agreed with the other guy, but there was no denying the happiness in both the little girl and the puppy. Tristen got a tennis ball from his pocket, still a little drooly from when they’d played fetch like fifteen minutes ago, but handed it to the girl anyways. She was already probably covered in Busta’s drool anyways. “Here you go,” he smiled. “A rubbery accident?” He raised his brows, before giving the guy a relieved smile. “Oh, good. I love kids but you gotta know the type of parents who are crazy about their kids, like, you know, the my little angel will never know alcohol exists- type.”

[tristencarter]

n e e l a;

Neela looked up to the man and her smile only got bigger when he heard that odd giggle coming from the guy’s lips. That definitely was a cute and unexpected sound. Though when he was talking about the dog again Neela looked down to him, continuing to ruffle his fur. “I definitely wouldn’t mind to hang out with such a cutie. I just have to remember not to wear makeup or I will most likely lose it all.”

“Yeah, Busta is doing his best on trying to save water by washing everyone he meets,” Tristen’s lips curled up on a grin as he spoke. Busta was a very good boy, but he was still a kid, and he loved him even with all these jokes. “I’m sorry for him jumpin’ up on you and us, like, bothering your nice walk. We’re both just learnin’ how to be a gentleman.”

[tristencarter]

a m e l i a;

Almost immediately, Amelia found herself nodding in agreement. Although soon… she felt her nose scrunching up a bit. “Don’t beat yourself up, too much,” she pauses, letting a breath pass her lips. “I have a dog named after a singer who was popular in the sixties,” she admits, fighting back a grin, before pulling out her phone to reveal her phone screen. It was a picture of a white poodle, seemingly flashing a smile. “This, is my Elvis,” she laughed a bit, knowing her own words sounded ridiculous. 

Tristen raised his brows questioningly, before completely cracking up when seeing the pic she was showing from her phone. “Popular in the sixties... A mild understatement,” he grinned, shaking his head a bit. “He is very cute, I’m liking the name choice. Your next pups gonna be named after the Beatles or is Elvis your only sixties favorite?”

[tristencarter]

m i c a h;

“He’ll learn soon enough, I’m sure. Until then he’s lucky he’s a baby,” Micah said with a smile as he watched the puppy lick the other man’s face. Now he really wanted a dog of his own, but he knew that he definitely wasn’t ready for that type of responsibility. It was better for everyone if he just stuck to running into the neighborhood dogs. The ‘sketchy’ remark made him crack up and he nodded, “Yeah, I know - it sounds really bad when you put it like that. I just grew up in Elmore and I work there. At Celino’s? Fancy place, but I always try to avoid the daytime shifts.” He made a face, “Exactly because it’s all old rich ladies. They tip well but they’re insanely annoying. One of them got upset with me ‘cause I made her a vodka martini with vodka in it.”

“One lucky baby,” he grinned. Tristen put Busta back on the ground, and made a quick prayer his dog would behave for the rest of their walk. The thing immediately started sniffing the ground, before sitting down like the good boy he was. “Oh yeah, okay, I’m startin’ to understand. Thought you were, like, a sugar baby for a second. At least you’ve got the look down,” Tristen teased other guy, just because it was his sense of humor, even if maybe it wasn’t the most appropriate thing in the world. His face turned into a stunned expression at his next words. “Wha- What the actual fuck? What did they want, then?”