#tristan is a jerk

[taliesin-the-bored]

When you realize that Tristan, Iseult, Dinadan, Palamedes, and Mark are basically the stock cast of a sitcom…

[townofcadence]

26. another active muse

Munday Topics

OH MAN, I have a bunch to pick from, but another one who's been really active for me is Caelan.

Caelan was born with magic more powerful than most. His specialty is darkness, and it shows on his body-- his blood is black, and his fingers and hands, his feet and his chest where his heart beats is a deep dark, like a stain on pale parchment. His eyes exhibit what he carries-- there is lines of dark around his eyes, and he is constantly weeping liquid dark magic. He is also blind because of this. He can see, a tiny bit like pinhole vision, but his magic came with what is both a blessing and a curse. Whatever he looks at will be unmade by his gaze, but he will gain something from it. Staring at a book will wither the pages to dust and rot the wood away to nothing, but he will gain through the sacrifice the knowledge impressed within the pages. If he were to look at a person, he would gain strength, but the other would lose years of life as his gaze sapped at their very life force.

Glasses magnify the effect and break anyways, so even if they could save his vision, they aren't worth the trouble. The only thing that protects from him is a magical band wrapped around his eyes, woven with magics to slow down the process of decay. It still will, eventually, but the time it takes gives him time to prepare for that moment. He never removes it, and navigates blind, or in spaces where there's enough darkness, by the shapes and layouts they reveal to him.

Because of his latent and potent magic, Caelan was not treated as a child. He was raised to be a weapon, with any semblance of emotion or wants or desires disciplined away. He was the perfect soldier for his family, a clan with influence on the old world he was born into, at war with another family of fae as well, who embodied light instead. When things broke into war, Caelan was their greatest creation. Caelan felt nothing, cold as he was made to be.

The other family also had a son, a prince of light, named Kiran. Kiran is very much Caelan's opposite, a flirtatious party-goer with a playful carefree demeanor and loose regulations from his family, but with a distaste for the war he was allowed to have. He was a master with the sword rather than magic, but capable of illusions and other tricks.

When Caelan saw him on the battlefield, he approached like a killer on the hunt. Kiran took one look at him and ran. Caelan followed, intent for his head.

They ended up in a field of flowers, a ring of them. It was a moonlit night, and tthey hardly paid attention as Kiran fought to live, and Caelan fought to cut the morale of their enemy with the death of their prince. Neither knew where they were, neither cared to pay attention. So when the ground gave way, neither was prepared.

And that's how they ended in the Spider's Lair. A lair woven with magic dealing with temporal abilities.

Caelan killed Kiran in those catacombs as soon as he recovered. And then he died. And then he woke up, the same moment he'd entered the lair with Kiran in a fall. Eventually, what was happening was clear, and they stopped fighting each other. But even their combined efforts weren't enough to defeat the monster that trapped them here, not in it's own home, when every time they died it grew stronger by eating their magic, and only using a portion of what it took to reset the loop and repeat the process. The spider was a glorified dungeon grinder lol. And after long enough, it knew them in every way, which made it hard to impossible to surprise it enough to overpower, to do more than survive as long as possible. Their cycle repeated so many times they lost track. Death lost meaning, when you met it so many times.

But, like all greedy things, the spider spelled it's own downfall. When it sensed another powerful magical aura in its field, the trapdoor fae stole another to the depths for more magic to feast on. And let's just say with Artair in the mix, his bag of tricks, the element of unknown and surprise he brought to the mix, and his determination to help Caelan and Kiran, are what finally severed the hellish loop they'd lived. A few more loops, a false sense of security, and then the spider breathed it's last, and finally, gratefully, Caelan and Kiran felt the sun again.

[orphanheirs]

Hello hello!! What is "Tristan Diary Excerpt" about?

Hey!! It's an excerpt from my character Tristan's diary! Lol. I'm thinking about making my novel partially epistolary, with both third person narrative and first person diary entries, letters, etc. (No idea how I'll mix the two yet.) One thing I know for sure is that Tristan kept a diary when he was younger, and I wrote a bit of that so far. The excerpt file is a short bit of that diary I pulled into a separate document to show for discussion/critique in a local queer writing group I go to! Here's a lil snippet of it:

Dreadfully bored today. I spent the morning mainly looking out the window at the gloomy clouds. It must be my “melancholy vapors” as Doctor Whittier calls them. I also felt the ache in my arms again, but I did not say anything lest he be summoned to increase my torment. Instead I vented out my vapors by being more disagreeable than usual. Mary bade me to go back to my bed; the window would produce a deathly draft. Her face turned white as flour when I said plainly that if this were so, I wished one such a draft would kill her next time she washed the window panes. I would have laughed aloud at her shock if not for the melancholy vapors and the dingy ache.

[stairset]

Society when people get it through their thick skulls that reclaiming slurs is a personal choice and doesn't automatically make you a better and more radical person than people who don't like those words

[arthurtristankingsmen]

Dang, too many tags, it ate my talking ones :'D

[trisketstanthony]

Hmmm.....what a familiar scene

[clumsycapitolunicorn]

.

[achingly-shy]

WHAT NO ARE YOU KIDDING WITH TRISTAN RIGHT THERE

[reyspacescavenger]

Christ almighty is it too difficult to say something like ‘thank you’ when someone texts you to wish you safe travels

[henry7931]

Bet

Will:

The two straight guys you see above are Caleb and Tristan, we are sort of friends. Although we barely have anything in common nor do we really socialize in public.

But one thing we do share in common is our group gaming night on Sundays. We play video games every Sunday for hours. And we even have teams, ‘the straights vs. the gays’. My best friend Jake and I are the gay team while the other two ‘best bros’ are the opposing straights.

We get really competitive and we will even make bets at the beginning of the night. But last night was the craziest bet so far.

The night was pretty much the same as usual, a lot of trash talking but at one point Caleb made a comment that Jake and I both thought was outlandish.

“Yo y’all gay guys have it easy,” he said to us.

I piped up and said, “how so?”

Caleb went on this tangent about how straight guys have it so tough these days and how much easier it is to be gay.

Jake and I laughed at him.

“Dude you couldn’t be gay for one day,” said Jake.

“What’s so hard for you Jake? I could easily be you for a day but you couldn’t handle being me,” says Tristan.

“Oh is that right?” says Jake.

“Yeah you wanna bet on it?” I added.

“Sure,” says Tristan.

I thought for a moment, are these guys down to do what I think?

“All four of us swap bodies. No BS, we all have to do the other ones routines, no one outside of us four can know and we have to be convincing in public that we are all each other. First one to ask to swap back loses.”

“Caleb you down bro?” asks Tristan.

“Yeah bro, this will be easy,” Caleb says with a grin.

“How much are we betting on?”

“Hmmmm…. How about $1,000 a piece.”

Jake’s eyes get wide as he hears me say the amount.

Both Tristan and Caleb grin and say, “deal.”

After hopping off, I immediately started writing down my daily stuff and everything Caleb would have to do. I made sure it was as ‘gay’ as possible. I even gave him going to a gay bar Friday which I’m sure will blow his mind lol.

So as I laid down last night, it started to hit me. I’m actually going to swap bodies with Caleb— and low key Caleb’s hot.

My mind raced thinking about what it will be like having his body. And I started to get hard from the thought.

I looked down at my slim frame and imagined what it’s going to be like with all of those muscles.

I thought about jerking off but Hell I’ll let that be Caleb’s problem in the morning.

The Next Morning:

I woke up notably in a different room, a very straight man’s room. Caleb has dirty laundry backed up into a pile in the corner, his hats stacked up on the wall, and a bunch of obscure pictures which I’m sure his ex decorated for him.

I lifted up the comforter and even Caleb knowing I was going to be in his body this morning he still slept commando.

I looked down at the bulge inside of his boxers and then down at his hairy legs and feet. His sheets have this musk that immediately filled my noise. I’m sure he doesn’t wash them enough.

Caleb’s bulge started to get hard and my first reaction was to touch it.

But instead I grabbed Caleb’s phone and called Tristan’s number. It rings for a few until I hear Tristan’s groggy voice come across.

“Will is that you?” says Tristan’s voice with Jake in control of it.

“Yeah it’s me,” I say back.

“Holy sh*t! I can’t believe that agreed to do this,” says Jake.

“I know! Have you uhhh… explored any?” I asked him.

“Fuck yeah! Tristan has some sexy feet!”

“I bet! So does Caleb,” I say wiggling his toes.

One thing about Jake and I is that we are pretty open with each other. We originally met on a gay hook up app and have only hooked up once. That night we were both so hammered that we ended up sharing all of our kinks together. Turns out both of us are into all of the same things. Feet, jocks, pits, etc. We even send dirty vids we’ve jerked off to back and forth. It’s a strange friendship but at least I know I can trust him.

“Will, you have to send me some pics! I’m hard as a rock right now!”

“Hold up, I got you bro,” I say to him.

“The way you say bro with his voice is so hot,” says Jake.

I laugh at him and pull out one of Caleb’s feet for the pic.

“Heading your way!”

“Oh my god his soles! I wanna suck on his toes so bad,” he says.

“I’d let you bro, you can suck on my toes anytime,” I say to him.

“Oh my god, keep talking like that!”

“Only if you send a pic back,” I say to him.

“One sec man I’m about to nut,” he says breathing heavy.

“Jake you’re jerking it right now?”

“Yeah man, I started before we got on the phone. Oh fuuuuuuckkk, this cock feels so… Will! Will! I’m cumming!! I’m cumming a lot!”

I’m so hard, I can’t help but join in. I pull off Caleb’s boxers and his 10” rock hard cock comes out.

“Wow it’s beautiful,” I say out loud over the phone.

“What is?” says Jake out of breath.

“Caleb’s dick, it’s like perfect.”

“Oh Tristan’s has a curve to it but it’s huge! I literally have a foot long between my legs. He needs to trim his pubes though, I’ll probably fix that here shortly,” says Jake.

I can’t speak, my focus is on the nicest dick I’ve ever seen. I run Caleb’s fingers along his sack all the way up his cock head. I feel chills…

I aggressively grab and start pumping it. I start moaning loudly.

I can hear Jake in the background saying, “dude, switch to FaceTime!!”

I’m too into the moment to put on a show. I lift up Caleb’s foot and sniff it while vigorously jerking off.

I run his tongue up and down his sole and scream out, “I’m Caleb Thomas now bitch!”

I’m so close, i wanted to go on forever. But that’s when Caleb dick literally sprays cum everywhere uncontrollably.

“Shit!”

“What?” says Jake.

“I got his cum in my eye,” I say back.

“Hahaha I’ll be over shortly!,” says Jake.

[hotyanderedaddies]

The School Bully Loves You, Pt. 4:

Yandere Bully Interrupts Your "Date"

Part 0 │ Part 1 │ Part 2 │ Part 3

[Yandere! Bully x GN Nerd! Reader]

·゜·:.。..。.:·☆·゜·:.。..。.:·☆

Jonathan was a nice guy, you figured.

The quarterback of the football team was always all smiles, and he seemed to never treat you differently despite being way higher up on the social ladder. Therefore, you sort of liked to tutor him. Not only did it feel like you were sometimes hanging out with a close friend, but it also made you feel good deep down that a guy was paying you some attention... even if it was just for school. But still.

And plus, you figured that he could potentially protect you from Blake.

Seriously, it was crystal clear that Jonathan lived in the gym after school, given his large muscles and athletic prowess.

Blake is muscular too, but he tends to hide his bulk underneath his leather jacket.

But still!

You tried your best to force your mind away from Blake as you and Jonathan pulled into the parking lot of a local diner. It was a small place where the two of you could be uninterrupted during your study session. It was one of the few local spots where Jonathan would treat you as payment for tutoring him, and you'd always order something sweet and tasty!

The two of you took your seats at one of the booths near the back, and your eyes stayed glued to the door. The constant fear of Blake finding you kept you on edge, and you found it hard to stay present with your brain always straying back to the bully.

You mentally berated yourself, annoyed that you kept thinking about Blake.

He'd claimed you as his, and you'd gotten three strikes.

Both of those spelt trouble in your mind, and you wanted nothing more than to avoid the guy. Therefore, you figured that being away from school with someone big who could protect you was the best course of action.

Jonathan and you placed your orders and tried to start the tutoring session, but it was close to impossible for you to get your nerves settled.

"Is something on your mind?" the jock finally asked when he'd noticed you staring nervously at the door for the millionth time.

"O-oh!" you mumbled, jerking out of your panicked daze. "I'm sorry, I'm just a little... distracted." You sheepishly smiled at the end of your statement, hoping that the jock wouldn't catch onto you inadvertently using him as protection.

Jonathan pursed his lips into a thin line, deep in thought. "So," he slowly asked, shrugging his broad shoulders, "is it Blake?"

You jerked back in your seat, shocked. "Wh-what do you mean?" you stuttered, trying your best to force an innocent smile onto your face.

Jonathan scrunched up his face in confusion. "Oh, my bad," he muttered. "I just thought that you two were having couple problems."

"'Couple problems'?" you repeated.

Jonathan shrugged again. "Well, yeah," he grunted. "I mean, by the way Blake talks about you, I thought the two of you were dating..."

"The way he talks about me?" you repeated again, feeling yourself go pale at the words you heard.

Never in your life would you have ever expected Blake to talk about you in any sort of positive manner. You always tried to avoid him like the plague, hence you'd preferred if he didn't know that you existed. But if he were to talk about you, you half-expected him to curse your name and call you the scum of the earth given how badly he's beaten people up all around you.

Thinking about it, there were several of Blake's victims you knew personally:

Kyle, the bully who's stolen your lunch money back in the sixth grade. He'd gotten his face beaten to a pulp, causing his nose to be a little crooked now.

Tristan, the guy who'd called you ugly on picture day. Blake had based his face so hard that his front teeth had been knocked out, totally ruining his picture.

Cesar, the douche who'd smashed your science project to smithereens for a YouTube prank. Well, Blake had filmed himself stomping him in the nuts, posting it to Cesar's now defunct account.

Wait...

"Wh-what has Blake said... about me?" you asked, feeling your heart fall to the floor as you thought everything over. It all had to be a coincidence, right?

The waitress delivered your food, distracting the jock for a second as he began to eat his fries. "Oh, um, he says lots of things about you," he mumbled, his mouth full of food.

That didn't really help.

"Like what?" you pressed.

The jock took a loud gulp of his soda. "Well, he says that he--"

He was cut off by the loud slamming of the front door. The both of you were altered to the booming noise, making you both flinch as you turned to see none other than Blake enter the tiny diner.

The bully's eyes scanned the area before landing on you, narrowing in your direction.

Uh-oh...

To be continued...

·゜·:.。..。.:·☆·゜·:.。..。.:·☆

I'm sorry about the lack of tagging people! I'm forever and always appreciative of everyone's interest in this story. Unfortunately, I just can't tag everyone at the moment. I apologize and hope you all understand!

[the-modern-typewriter]

have I told you guys I'm trying my hand at writing a horror novel? Fey and aceness!

Wolverton House loomed out of the darkness more suddenly than such a large building should have been able to. It made Diana think of ghosts. It made her think of titanic icebergs. It made her think of an angler fish, mouth gaping bright and welcoming in the roiling blackness of the water.

Inevitably, of course, it made her think of Lucille.

The taxi jerked to a stop by the imposing front gates. Motion sensor lights flooded to life, illuminating the slender stone driveway snaking up to the manor proper. Diana squinted, raising a hand to shield her eyes.

“…you getting out here?” the driver asked. “Or do you want me to take you all of the way up.”

He sounded hopeful. It was difficult to tell if it was to get closer to the manor or to get the hell away from it. She swallowed, but it did nothing to stop the sudden dryness of her mouth. She wasn’t entirely sure which one she wanted either. But then, home was often like that, wasn’t it?

The gates slid open. An invitation.

The driver’s fingers white-knuckled on the steering wheel.

“It’s okay,” she said. “I’ll walk. Bit of fresh air and all that. Stretch my legs.”

His shoulders sagged in relief even as disappointment flickered across his face. He got out at the same time as she did, busying himself with hoisting her battered suitcase out onto the side of the road. He opened his mouth as if to say something, before he closed it again. His attention was inevitably drawn back to the house. Its stark white walls. Its invitingly lit windows. Its gardens, all pale roses picked out in the lush night. It hadn’t changed a bit.

“You know them?” Diana kept her voice light. “The Wolvertons?”

“Sure. I mean, everyone does round here.”

“You’ve met the fiancé?”

“Handsome fella.” He shook his head, as if to clear it, glancing at her again. Curiosity and terror. “You look after yourself up there.”

“And her?” Diana’s heart flipped. “Does she still come down to the town?”

His lips thinned. “That’s £112.”

She considered pressing him further, maybe telling him that actually she did want that lift up all the way to the front door, but then she simply paid. The fare receipt pinged on her phone before he’d even fully disappeared down the path.

Lucille would have made him drive all the way. She would have made him wait while she rang the doorbell, “just in case no one’s in!” She would have watched him squirm.

Still, Diana’s legs were cramped from the long hours of travel, so maybe it couldbe a relief to clack her way up the driveway. At the very least, it gave her a little more time before she had to ring the doorbell. Meet him. See her. Diana took a few steadying breaths, wrangled her luggage and began her ascent. She’d only a taken a few steps up the driveway path when the gates shut behind her again with a muffled clang.

Handsome fella. She’d seen pictures of Tristan De Silva, Lucille’s soon-to-be-husband, online. He was definitely handsome, it was true, but not in the way that Lucille usually liked. He was too sharp. Too much like her, in some way, so that surely if they were ever in a room together they’d spend the whole time in danger of bashing up against each other’s edges. They did look smitten in the photos though, and the wedding invitation certainly suggested something, but…

Surely she wouldn’t invite Diana, of all people, to be her maid of honour if she was in love with someone else?

Of course she bloody would. And of course Diana bloody came. She was an idiot.

All too soon, she rang the doorbell. As she waited, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and then untucked it again a moment later to let it curl loose and coppery over her forehead. Then she realised that her hands were shaking and shoved them in the pockets of her leather jacket.

The door swung open. The man behind it was the pictures made incarnate, dressed in the sort of casually-expensive trousers and t-shirt that Diana would never find in her own closet. Was that why Lucille had picked him?

“Ah, Diana.” He offered a perfect smile. “It is Diana, right? Lucille’s Diana?”

The words were like a beloved coat that no longer fit properly. Too tight around the shoulders. A squeeze of buttons clamping airless down upon her chest. Lucille’s Diana. She hadn’t been that in years. She hadn’t ever stopped being that for a moment.

“Just Diana,” she said. “You must be Tristan.”

Tristan tipped his head a fraction, a mocking sort of bow, and stepped aside to let her in.

“Where’s Lucille?” she asked.

“Upstairs.” He held out a hand for her jacket. “She’ll come down when she’s ready. You know she likes to make an entrance.”

Her jacket felt like the only pitiful armour she had, but Diana politely handed it over all the same. He hung it up and shut the door.

“Just leave your bag in the hallway,” he said, already turning towards the familiar kitchen as if he owned the place. “I’ll take it up to your room later. Champagne?”

“I – no, thank you. I don’t drink.”

He scoffed. “Yes you do. Since when?”

She stared at him.

“Well,” he said. “I’m having champagne.” As she followed him into the kitchen, he fished a bottle out of the fridge, popped it and poured it golden and frothing into three different flutes. He took one and held the other out to her.

Her jaw tightened a fraction.

“I’m engaged,” he said. “So we’re going to toast and you’re going to say congratulations.”

His hazel eyes bore into her, almost seeming to match the drink.

She took the glass, cold against her clammy palm, and held it up.

“Congratulations,” she said.

No, he was nothing like Lucille’s usual type, which begged the question, then – how much did he really know his fiancée at all?

The first thing that she remembered ever really noticing about Lucille Wolverton was that everybody loved her. It was an effect she had on people. When they were really young it hadn’t occurred to Diana to question it. Lucille was her friend and, of course, Lucille’s parents loved her. That was what good parents were supposed to do.

When she got older, she’d thought maybe it was because Lucille was pretty and people seemed to care an awful lot about that sort of thing. Some people simply had a star quality that drew people to them and, even as a child, it had been clear that Lucille did. When she smiled and laughed and relished in the attention of everyone who adored her, she possessed a warm sort of beauty. She was honey and gold, she was the fairy lights that turned an ordinary space into a super-secret lair, she was the candlelight flickering across a dinner table as two lovers leaned in for their first kiss. When she was angry, she was a colder thing. The moon in winter, glittering across an endless plane of unforgiving snow. A glass girl, seemingly fragile, poised to cut.

When she got older still, Diana was no longer sure if it could be just looks, just charm. She’d never quite figured it out though. All things considered she hadn’t been sure she wanted to.

She took a tiny sip of her drink, feeling Tristan’s eyes on her as he matched her movements. She had the strangest surety that if she drained the glass then he would simply do the same. Weirdly triumphant.

She set the flute firmly down on the counter and cleared her throat.

“So, how did you two meet?”

Music drifted down the stairs, too quiet to be entirely picked out. She could imagine Lucille flitting about her bedroom. It was impossible to hear her so far away, and yet Diana half felt that she could trace Lucille’s every step across the manor’s floors.

“At a party,” Tristan said. “She got the host to kiss her in front of his girlfriend. Wrecked their relationship. It was awful.” He smiled a strange smile. “I asked her out the same night.”

“Oh, naturally.”

His smile turned a touch edged. “I note you didn’t bring a plus one.”

Diana didn’t say anything.

“The invite did say you could bring someone.”

“I’m not seeing anybody at the moment.” Diana moved to circle the space, putting the kitchen island between her and the champagne as she scanned over the glossy cookbooks and paintings. The cookbooks were new. The paintings were the same visions of women stuffing their faces with dripping fruit, raw meat or chocolate cake as she’d seen since she was as a girl. They’d thrilled her then. Felt somehow taboo. “Does she do that sort of thing often, then? Wreck people’s relationships?”

“Shouldn’t you know?”

Diana shrugged, betrayed by her hammering heart.

“Mm. You’ll be staying in your old room, I believe.” He leaned himself almost lazily against the island and took another long sip of his drink, body angled towards her.

“Lucille’s told you a lot about me?”

“I’m nosy.” He flashed that perfect smile again. “She said the two of you grew up here, that you were like sisters. She said there was no one else she’d want at our wedding as much as you.”

Diana’s throat thickened.

“I suspect she left out all of the juicy bits,” he said.

She glanced over at him.

“Singular woman, Lucille Wolverton.” He raised his eyebrows. “But I’m sure if you told me, she’d have to kill you.”

“Or you.”

“Alas, they always suspect the spouse. She’s not that obvious.”

Despite herself, Diana laughed. It was something like a laugh anyway.

“It’s nothing juicy,” she said. “My parents worked here. We lived in the old servant’s cottage on the edge of the property when I was a kid, and this place is way out in the middle of nowhere. We had a lot of sleepovers.”

“So many that you had your own room. Do girls often have their own room during sleepovers?”

“It’s just one of the guest bedrooms. There’s enough of them, isn’t there?”

Her bedroom was the bedroom next to Lucille’s room, mirrored and sharing a wall.

Tristan hummed, seeming unconvinced as he studied her. She watched him in her periphery in turn, taking out one of the cookbooks and flicking through the pages. How to eat a peach.  

“So what is it you do?” she asked.

“Finance. You’re a caterer. What was she like when you knew her?”

The cookbook was thoroughly abandoned. “Correct me if I’m wrong,” Diana said, “but I believe in small talk you’re supposed to at least pretend that you don’t know things about me when we first meet.”

“Stickler for politeness, are we?”

“You have to ask?” She pretended to gasp. “And there was me thinking you knew everything about me already.”

“Not everything. But I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Not especially. But I guess I was raised to be more polite to my guests than you.”

He laughed like that was funny, shaking his head, and raised his glass again in another private toast of some sort.

No, he was not Lucille’s type at all. Lucille’s type were soft and starry-eyed, utterly enamoured and easily bruised. He was…not that. She had no idea what the hell he was. A jerk, perhaps?

They eyed each other.

“So you met a party.” Diana tried again, with the friendly smile she reserved for only the most trying of customers. “That was…what? A little over a year ago? I can’t imagine she’s changed that much since I last saw her. I mean. You’re the one marrying her. Shouldn’t you know?”

Tristan shrugged in turn; a lighter, more effortless parry. “You’ve known her longer. You last saw her…what?” He mimicked her tone. “A little over three years ago?”

“Yeah.”

He seemed to consider her for a moment.

“I could probably still call your taxi back,” he said. “It’s not too late.”

Diana narrowed her eyes, spine stiffening.

“Too late for what exactly?”

Footsteps sounded on the hallway, light and graceful, shattering the moment. Tristan went quiet.

They both turned inexorably towards the kitchen door and then – there she was. Lucille Wolverton. Barefoot. Leaned against the door as if she had been there all along. In her wedding dress. “Hey stranger,” Lucille said. “Long time no see.”

[townofcadence]

It was customary of humans to remain in place to be referenced to their identification card. He'd been trained to know such things, and to call a coworker, his manager, or Mr. Carder the owner, to assist with the visual component. So when this one decided to scurry away, it was....confusing. Did he expect him to wait here, then? With his goods unpaid?

Nature's call much have been truly demanding, for him to leave and serve it before doing so. Caelan sighs, before setting cigarettes and the scratcher in one of the bags, and contacting the night shift manager. At least the other checkouts were manned as well, the store far from understaffed. He likely would not see another customer at this hour, unless fate conspired against him.

His arms were crossed when the customer returned. His expression was still smooth, what little could be seen of it. "Do not have." He answers. "Check electronic store. Or perhaps Roundtable Repair." He tilts his head. "Before you go. ID is still need to be checked. Remain here."

The wallet came out and the ID slid across the counter. " I'll be right back. Sorry. Excuse me " he said suddenly and headed in the direction of the restrooms.

Once in there he made a straight beeline for the sink, stood in front of it and exhaled loudly. Fuck. He needed to calm down and get it together. He paced back and forth for a second, turned the water on and splashed his battered face with water for a second. As he dried his face off, he examined it in the mirror.

" God, " he mumbled. He wiped the sink dry and pulled out a battered cell phone. He opened it to the text messenger, tapped in something and then made a little disappointed noise to see the notification about his minutes being gone.

In a few minutes he was back at the counter in front of the long suffering Caelan. " Do you sell. Uhm. Phone cards here? " he asked, opening his wallet again that was becoming emptier by the minute.

[hunterrrs]

THEY’RE IN LOVE

When Alex Nedeljkovic got to Pittsburgh after signing as a free agent in the offseason, he quickly discovered a shared interest with his new goalie partner, Tristan Jarry – their trucks, as they drive the same Ford pickup, albeit different models, to and from the rink.

“I think Ned and I have found a lot of things that we’ve bonded over, a lot of things that we can talk about. One of the first things was obviously we have the same truck, so it was kind of cool,” Jarry said with a smile. “Just finding key things you can talk about, and I think just keeping the conversation going to learn more about each other, that helps build a relationship both on and off the ice.”

That relationship between Jarry and Nedeljkovic, both 28 years old, is a strong one, and Mike Sullivan believes that’s been a big key for this particular goalie tandem – with the Penguins Head Coach describing them as “1 and 1A.”

“I think they sincerely like one another and root for one another,” Sullivan said. “I think they push one another to be at their best. Both of those guys have played well for us throughout the course of the year. They’ve both played extremely well and have been deserving of being in the net. It makes for a difficult coaching decision every night, but that’s a good challenge to have.”

For Jarry and Nedeljkovic, it’s about finding that balance between being competitive and wanting the net, but also being a good teammate. Because ultimately, all that matters is that they’re giving the team a chance to win every night.

“You can take it too far and be a (jerk) and not talk to a guy, but it just makes it awkward and not friendly. That's not what you want. It's not good,” Nedeljkovic said. “So, you want him to succeed, I want him to do well just as he wants me to do well, and that's how we get better. You’re not gonna do yourself any favors hoping that he does bad and thinking negatively... So, it’s just being a good teammate. It's easy to do, and he's a great guy. He's a good guy off the ice, so it just makes it that much easier.”

As Nedeljkovic put it, they’re just a couple of easygoing guys. Alex is affable and good-natured, and Tristan is laid back with a sly sense of humor “that comes out of nowhere sometimes with some of the jokes, some of the jabs,” Nedeljkovic said.

[stairset]

I'm Dustin Starset's biggest fan but he has two glaring flaws that I simply cannot excuse. The first is that he's not into dudes and the second is he needs to be sluttier. Other than those two things that appeal to me specifically he's pretty much good though.

[shelbygraces]

i’m deep in season 2 now of gilmore girls and i have opinions… these opinions are subject to change. i’ve got a long way to go.

rory is in the wrong for entertaining jess’s flirts while she’s in a relationship.

jess is in the wrong for meddling in her relationship and doing things to purposefully mess with dean because he clearly likes rory. like buying her picnic basket to get a date with her. and stealing her bracelet that was a gift from dean.

dean has done nothing wrong??? he gets angry sometimes but each time i feel like the feeling is mostly justified by how rory is acting and constantly dismissing his concerns, even lying to his face. his jealousy comes from an understandable place, especially considering rory clearly does have a crush on jess. he’s not jealous for no reason.

rory is very obviously being different around dean since she started getting closer with jess. and for dean, he can tell somethings off with rory because he LOVES her. he BUILT her a CAR from NOTHING. and she’s not being fair to him.

jess has also only been mostly a jerk, in similar ways to tristan. so it’s hard for me to like him when he’s being pretty disrespectful to everyone around him, including rory and especially to dean, when dean tried to be nice to him at first. he seems to only dislike dean because he’s rory’s boyfriend.

i think i’m gonna like him more later but so far… justice for dean.

also lorelai completely reads jess and rory for what they have going on behind deans back. she’s my favorite.

luke also says it would be great if rory and jess have “something going on”. no one seems concerned she has a boyfriend already and it’s kinda weird. i know she’s only 16 but still. i feel mostly bad for dean.

these are obviously just kids making mistakes and also it’s a tv show, so don’t take anything too seriously! :)