#i wish there were more tattoo designs but hopefully more are coming? maybe???

[cafalla]

Vintage Pokémon Stickers and Temporary Tattoos (1999-2000)

I finally took the time to tackle my little pile of vintage Pokémon stickers and temporary tattoos! It's not a crazy amount, but there was enough to make me consistently go "hmm, maybe I'll scan them tomorrow".

Thing is, I have a whole box of magazines I still want to scan...and some catalogs...there is a lot still in the works where scanning is concerned.

This little pile of Pokémon stickers have been next on my to-scan list for a while. I felt it was time to finally get on it. I'm really excited to show them off!

I love all Pokémon, and I wouldn't call myself a die-hard Gen 1 fanatic but...there is really something nostalgically special about Gen 1. I just love Pokémon a lot, especially Gen 1, and I always will.

I'm very happy to have these vintage stickers/temporary tattoos and I hope to get many more in the future!

First off, here are a couple of temporary tattoo sheets! I know they're not stickers, but they basically look like sticker sheets...at least they're equally as cool. These are from 1999!

Each came in its own single-sheet package. These photos are actually the scans flipped, so originally, they are backwards.

Because, y'know, that's how temporary tattoos work.

But for the sake of viewing the artwork, I flipped them so they are facing the "correct way" towards us.

My favorite one is Pikachu holding his Pokeball...to be honest, I totally forgot Pikachu actually has his own ball! And that it has a little lightning bolt on it. So cute. I wish we got to see it more often.

I mean, how cool would it be to get a lightning bolt ball in the games and you could ONLY catch a Pikachu with it. That'd be fun.

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Next are some "super-size" sticker sets. Each set comes with two sticker sheets. These are also from 1999!

Here's the first set:

The weird swirly colored backgrounds feel sooooo 90s to me!

Next set:

Love the big Blastoise sticker. I imagine there are sets including big solo stickers of Charizard and Venusaur, too. Hopefully one day I can get my hands on them!

And the last set I have is this one:

Well, there is Charizard at least! Not a full sized solo sticker, but it's quite large. Super cool!

And the sticker of the main gang is so cute. I vividly remember that art of them featured in a lot of merchandise. We'll see them again with the next stickers, actually.

I do wonder if the white space in between Brock's bent arm was an oversight...there is also some white between Misty's neck and arm. Oops, lol!

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Next I have some giant Pokémon gift tag stickers from 2000!

I originally thought they were Christmas gift tag stickers, but I think they're for any gift-giving occasion. There are 15 sticker tags in the package, containing the three designs shown above.

There's that art of the gang again! I told you we'd be seeing them again lol.

And I vividly remember that Pikachu art on a lot of my childhood merchandise. I love the OG Pikachu.

I mean, Pikachu is great in any form, but like I said earlier, the original art just hits differently. I'm way too nostalgic for Gen 1 haha. Maybe I actually am a die-hard Gen 1 fanatic...

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Last, but certainly not least, we have this sticker book containing all 150 original Pokémon. It's from 1999, and barely hanging on by a couple of old staples. I had to be super careful scanning this book - I was afraid of it ripping apart.

Here's the cover:

The book's format is basically a page of stickers, and then the page opposite of the stickers contains a blank space with a pokeball graphic and the names of the Pokémon. The intention is to move the stickers over to the blank space with the Pokémon's name once you catch them in game, so you can keep track of which ones you've collected along your Pokémon journey.

I'll just be showing off the sticker pages, but you can look at the full book on my Internet Archive account to see what I'm talking about. There's also a cute little Pokémon word search in the middle of the book I recommend checking out.

Here are all 150 original Pokémon stickers!

So cool, right?!

Most of the artwork is pretty standard, but some of the Pokémon really get to show some personality! Specifically Dugtrio and Electrode.

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I really like how old Pokémon merchandise gave many "obscure" Pokémon a chance to shine.

Obviously Pikachu and the main line starters get heavily featured in merchandise...but I feel like most Pokémon in recent years don't get a chance to be promoted like they used to in the early stages of the series.

Typically only the fan favorites get to shine anymore. It's sad, because there are so many neat Pokémon! Every Pokémon is special to someone, and it's nice to see them represented across merchandise.

I hope you enjoyed these scans! You can view full size/hi-quality scans on my Internet Archive account.

Or, if you would rather reblog the photos by themselves, I've uploaded them onto my photoblog: nostalgiahime. So feel free to go take a look over there!

Thanks for reading!

#txt #pokemon #vintage #stickers #temporary tattoos #pokemon gen 1 #original pokemon #scans #my scans

[mauls-fair-in-love-and-war]

Subjecting you all to my SWTOR characters

because i can

Kitmi

My sith inquisitor (assassin) character for my first playthrough. It’s been a while since I finished the main storyline but i really liked it. i’m planning to subscribe and start chapter 7 once i finish my current game.

Qiean

I wanted his name to be Qi’an but it was already taken so I just fucked with the spelling a little. He’s a sith warrior (marauder) and the son of Kitmi. I originally wanted Kitmi to be Qi’an’s son, but the game storylines made more sense the other way. The inquisitor is born into slavery and becomes a Sith Lord and the warrior is born into nobility. 

Khamat

okay fine i’ll play a jedi.

My jedi consular (shadow). I just started this line so I haven’t gotten beyond the first chapter. i don’t really have an explanation for him using a red lightsaber other than I picked up something with a red crystal and swapped it because i think it looks cooler than green. Since bitter exes isn’t an option, he’s Kitmi’s “rival”.

Edit: I wrote this on my computer and for some reason the images are way darker on mobile

#i dont really have much to say about them i kinda just wanted to show off my little dudes #yes they are all zabraks. you cannot stop me. #i posted yesterday about maybe posting my character ans it got like two likes so that means im doing it #btw the relationship thing doesnt actually do anything its just for funsies #i think it was going to go somewhere and got dropped? not positive though #(when i googled it a shit ton of people hated it bc you have have biological relationships that shouldnt be possible so i guess that makes #it bad? like m8 ur the one setting it up. its your design. if u want it to make sense make it make sense. who cares??? anyway-) #if you read this far i appreciate it but also why???? #i didn't mean to give them all k-sound names that sorta just happened but i might keep it up lol #i wish there were more tattoo designs but hopefully more are coming? maybe??? #might update this list next time i start a new character idk #feel free to add me lol im not on as consistantly as i used to be but :eyes: #anyway thank u for letting me spam yall. back to ur regularly scheduled programming #swtor #// caspian yells into the void

[banqdanfnfic]

which, as they kiss, consume | jjk

you just wanted to get a tattoo from your boyfriend

pairing: tattoo artist!jk x reader

genre: established relationships au, tattoo artist au, smut

word count: 4k

warnings: unprotected sex, biting, making out, grinding, licking, nipple play, jk has a lip ring, oral (f receiving), fingering, shy jk and oc, sexual tension, slight choking, slight aftercare

♫ : Streets by Doja Cat, Candy by Doja Cat

♡ Aesthetics: Playlist | Moodboard

He visibly chokes on his glass of beer as he almost snaps his neck to meet your gaze. He could say that you were awfully drunk and hence the sudden confession out of the blue, but behind your heavy lidded eyes, Jungkook could sense that you were serious.

“You what?”, he gulps abruptly, moving closer to your face, doe eyes pleading to repeat yourself.

“Yes Kook. I want that tattoo on my breasts. I’ve decided”.

It’s not that Jungkook didn’t have experience in his career with inking on different parts of a human body. He just had never given a tattoo to someone who is romantically associated with him and the thought of seeing you half naked made him chuck down the rest of his drink in one go.

The most physical he had ever gotten with you was a kiss shared occasionally since it’s only been over two weeks you had started dating. Okay maybe you made out once in his car but that’s it. It never got to the point of shedding clothes or anything intense.

“Are you sure?”

You giggle at the sudden hoarseness in his voice and nod positive. Ironic how his aura never matched his personality. His inked skin, athletic body proportions covered in black monochrome bad boy outfits gave out default energy that he is a local heartthrob with multiple chicks wrapped around his finger each night and a heavy demeanor to carry in his smirk.

You were one of those believers until Jungkook asked you out in the most hopeless romantic way possible after constantly visiting the café you work in, a few shops besides his parlor. He was a gentleman with respectful boundaries, warm hands to hold yours and sweet sensual kisses though you are pretty sure he probably has a good game.

For any outsider it looked like those cliché bad boy and shy girl love stories, but for real both of you were a good percentage of introverts.

Jungkook runs his tongue around his lip ring while he is stressfully ruffling his dark locks into a mess. He is trying to explain his reasons to postpone your decision considering how shy he got at this point. But then that’s exactly why you were requesting him with soft eyes, it would be so uncomfortable to be shirtless in front of anybody else. Or maybe it’s your way of saying the relationship is open for higher levels of physical affection.

After debating around in vain, he finally hums and clears one of his slots for his beloved client.

Friday approaches way quicker than you assumed and now your heart is beating in your throat. Right after you are done cleaning the tables, you have to make it to Jungkook’s parlor for your appointment.

Running on three hours of sleep, black under eyes even after a decent amount of makeup, you groan as you check yourself out in the mirror. You opted for a simple shirt and skirt (also known as the outfit you bought for occasions with Jungkook), light beach waves resting on your shoulders. Hoping that a few cups of coffee will save you, you stride across the street to stop before the infamous parlor he worked in. Hopefully the full body shave and chocolate body butter has kept its excellence on your skin below the clothing.

The door chimes as it opens with a dragged creak on the musky wooden flooring. It felt like an otherworld where air smelled like men’s perfume and faint tint of cigarettes. In other words, intoxicating.

You ask the first person you meet at the reception, one of Jungkook’s companions at the shop and he assists you to his cabin located at a comfortably remote location.

His space is hidden with a simple black curtain. You are met with Jungkook’s back facing you, working determinately on a client’s arm and cares to spare a glance only when the guy with you is informing him about your presence.

“This will be over in a few”, he grins to your face and goes back to focusing his coil on the skin of a woman in her late twenties laying down his chair. The vibration from his inking machine fills in the silence and you excuse yourself to sit on a small black couch beside them.

This was the first time watching him at work and now you can understand why people rumored so much about his attitude because damn it is intimidating.

Brows knit together and inked muscles flex as he drags the needles around for finishing touches. Meanwhile you can pretty much smell the drool from the woman who is shamelessly checking out your boyfriend. Though you are pretty sure Jungkook gets such glances more than he can count every day, you can’t help but feel jealous. Partly because of the childish possessiveness and partly because you want to be the reason behind his dark eyes and intricate concentration, in profession or not.

To stop from mentally throwing daggers on the client’s way, you grab a random fashion magazine from the side table and flip through pages, though other four senses are inclined on your man. With a close attention to his low sigh you conclude that he is done.

The customer with now a fresh tattoo on her arm is discussing random useless topics to get him to talk, a very vain job realizing how Jungkook doesn’t bat a friendly lash at anybody, especially to those who hit on him. To be honest a large part of the ink business was linked with the obsession to attractive people who worked here, even if it meant trading an area of your skin. You grip the edges of the magazine a bit hard, not able to contain the sanity particularly at the high pitch voice she mumbles in before finally leaving his cabin.

A little excited and a lot nervous, you stand up as Jungkook bids goodbye to the third person.

He is quick to notice your discomfort, though not sure if it was the woman or the thought of finally getting the tattoo, he knew you were nervous and surviving in several cups of espresso by the dark circles slowly showing through the faded layers of your concealer. But nothing pulls down the opinion he has about you, beautiful and simple, no dramatics attached.

“Hey are you okay?”

You nod as soon as you sit down on the black tattoo chair, shifting a little to find a comfortable position. He is taking out a box full of equipment and fine needles, already making you break a sweat at the side of your forehead.

But more than that, it’s the way he is sharp and professional that catches your attention more.

You have never seen Jungkook this serious before. The choice of his vetiver perfume digging through your nostrils was driving you insane. If he doesn’t smile soon, you are going to melt into a puddle at his gaze.

“Are you nervous?”, he smirks this time, a newfound reason for your worsening gut health.

It’s mostly going in cycles at this point. Every bit of his skilled motion causes a vigorous hormonal reaction which initiates his next set of effortless teasing.

“I’m a little nervous”, you say, fiddling with your freshly painted nude nails.

“Me too”

It’s something you least expect to come out of his mouth observing how confident he looks right now. He basically has you cornered with his gaze. But whenever he had been truthful about his emotions it felt like a hug.

“I can take off my shirt too, so that we are even. Is that okay?”

He said it so softly like he is handling a child and the duality of the situation had your mind fogged and limbs frozen for a few minutes.

“Yeah it’s okay” It’s far beyond than okay. It’s great actually.

Jeon Jungkook is ripped, a Greek God sculptured masterpiece covered in self designed artwork you are more than happy to wake up to every morning. He hears you gulp at the feast before your eyes while he discards his black t-shirt to a nearby chair.

Now you don’t know if this whole thing is supposed to warm your heart or make you play several erotic fantasies like a movie before your eyes.

Both of you share a small smile while his long fingers are tugging at the hem of your shirt and pulling it up over your head.

He almost wishes you don’t opt to wear a bra but he is met with lacy black, a-bit-over your-usual-budget fabric hugging the roundness of your breasts.

It seemed like you were way too competitive about today. Anything less than complete awe from Jungkook for you was straight disappointment, you don't want anything less.

Well it seems like it did from how blown his pupils were at this point. He peels his gaze off your chest with a sharp gulp to look at your eyes suddenly devoid of any fear and staring back at him with all ease. He is filled with an exapnse of warmth and he isn't sure why does spending just a little amount of time with you had such a grip on him. He can’t wait to propose the idea of getting a couple tattoo together soon and as far as you know how Jungkook is, he is very serious with his body art so apparently he does trust you a lot already.

“Where exactly are you trying to get it?”, his voice is a lot deeper suddenly as he waits for your fingers to guide to his canvas.

You softly trace the spot at the upper circumference of your right boob, “Here”.

You suck a breath through your nose as his own fingers are mimicking your gesture, lightly pulling down the lace to inspect the fitting of the design at hand.

These violent delights have violent ends

And in their triumph die, like fire and powder

Jungkook traces each word on your burning skin, now leaning dangerously close which was questioning your control to put your palms flat on his pecs. He doesn’t notice that though, his mind is busy creating his own fantasies about the women under him.

After two minutes and twenty four second long of inspection and mutual thirst, Jungkook is selecting a bunch of needles to set into the rotary machine. Five fine sharp like a painter's brush moves in and out at a set regularity as Jungkook tests it out.

The next of his actions had you flushed into a pool of crimson. He gently lifts up your resting torso with one hand while the other is unclasping the hook of your bra, making you half naked for the sake of the tattoo.

"I'm going to start", he says shyly.

You still have time to save yourself from the growing phobia for the object, but another unlogical part of your brain says it's a piece of cake considering you have a whole distracting full course meal in front of you.

It stings at first. Well, okay it hurts like hell but your face is devoid of any indication, except your right hand is gripping on the rim of the chair for dear life.

Jungkook on the other hand had never felt this much diversion of mind during his work. He knows that you are probably hurting very badly, especially for a first timer. He is biting into his lip ring, trying to get this over with for the well-being of your pain and his hormones.

After he had scribed one word into your dermis, you are no longer able to contain the ache so you give out a small squeak out of your glossed lips and the vibration of the machine at his hands stops as he looks at you.

"You want me to stop? ", he is relaxing his face as he cups yours with one hand. You don't want to answer that question, but the drumroll of the current situation is making your heart flutter and everything about the little burn on your chest is forgotten.

"No. It does hurt but I'll be fine I guess", you whisper. His breath is mixing with yours slowly as he is leaning more towards your face. If it isn't for a kiss then you are likely to be disappointed.

"It'll be over before you know it. I'll make it quick", and then he kisses you, a small act to get off the pressure of sexual tension between your bare upper bodies.

Before you think of any tongue in the act, he is breaking off the contact and returns to his position on your chest. He misses the pout that forms on your mouth but right now both of your heads are in cloud nine.

The pain starts again, only this time you are busy reliving how his lips felt in yours; soft, firm and controlled.

You gasp when you feel one of his hands cupping your right breast to further his design but it's lowkey an act empowered by lust which is straining behind the so called professional eyes.

You just sit there flustered out of your mind and then Jungkook is suddenly squeezing, full palm hiding your breasts like it's a protected treasure, but he isn't showing the slightest facial expression other than determined eyes and his lower lip caught between his teeth.

Fuck you can't take it anymore. Jungkook can feel your nipples harden against his hand and his brain isn't helping much to concentrate on the design. But by the grace of some positive karma left on his side, he makes it through the long text and when he is letting go of your chest and standing tall, your skin is popping out with redness on the places the text lays embedded.

He fishes out a mirror for you to look.

"It looks beautiful thank you Jungkook", you smile.

"Can I give you one more tattoo on your left one?", he asks while you are contemplating whether going through the pain is worth it, not to mention you really want to get back at a private space with Jungkook as soon as possible.

"It won't hurt I promise", and then he is kissing you a lot filthier than before; all tongue and teeth, while his hands are grazing on the skin of your waist, pressing a little firmer than before.

The coldness of his lip ring rivaled around your mouth, and you try sucking on it to which Jungkook responds with a growl and pushes his body adamantly against yours.

Skin to skin, you are lost in euphoria of everything happening and finally, you roam your eager hands around his body, to his pecs and the definition of abs.

As your fingers scraped against his scalp, Jungkook is biting eagerly down your jawline to your collarbone and continues his ministrations at a particular spot which is bringing out melodic moan variation from you.

He is going down your skin, licking on your left boob before he starts planting violet tattoos as he had promised. As if it couldn't get better, he is massaging the right breast, in a way to soothe pain.

He loses it when you stutter his name, but he is just a fucking tease when it comes to making love and doing anything in a public space is the last thing he wants to do. There isn't much room for all that he wants right now.

"Why did you choose this particular tattoo Y/n?", he rasps while he is planting small pecks on his artwork, and you reply when he is finally eye level with you

"I just felt like it's a good one", your breaths are uneven and mostly caught in your neck. He pecks your lips before speaking, "Those are lines from Romeo and Juliet".

He takes your hands to trace over a line of text among the many designs on his chest.

which, as they kiss, consume

"We pretty much have a couple tattoo now Y/n", his breath is matched with your pace and you are not very sure how to respond to this new knowledge.

"That's… hot"

You break into giggles along with him, he just can't stop dragging his lips around your skin, but he isn't able to word his feelings right now either.

"I have some aftercare healing ointment for the tattoo at my place, wanna come over?" Now that may be a little lame of an excuse to get his little friend out of his pants but you are too unfazed to analyse any of that.

His hands find place on your ass under the skirt as soon as the door to his apartment closes, and before you know it, you are in his bedroom, sitting on the soft mattress and tongue lost devouring each other.

While eagerly getting rid of every article of clothing, Jungkook notices that you don't have your bra on beneath the shirt, so it's probably back at the parlour, but none of you have the slightest care for it, might as well make an excuse with it later to fuck you in his cabin.

He is pushing you farther towards the headboard, him on top, grinding sensenslesy while your lips mould with his. Though he has his whole body pressed against you, you can't seem to feel his weight at the slightest, every one of his actions were just balanced and perfect.

As Jungkook goes down on you, his smile is evident against your skin, finally able to find out how every one of those scenarios in his head will come to look like. He lets out a satisfied hum being finally able to suck on your tits, your fingers finding place on his hair, twisting it out of stimulation.

His pelvis is flushed harshly against yours, grinding and rubbing against your pussy for as long as he is rejoicing the feeling of moving his tongue around both the nipples.

He stops rubbing after some point and you whimper at the loss but his fingers are soon to meet your core as a quick apology. All your later moans are muffled on his mouth once again.

Feeling the controlled movements of his fingers on your clit, you dig your nails down on his toned shoulders. It's becoming impossible to reciprocate his lewd movements of tongue on your lips at this point as the excitement between your thighs is growing every passing second.

Your mouth remains slightly parted as he removes his face to watch you squirm underneath, lips swollen, deep red and glossy from all the saliva.

He pecks at the shell of your ear before going down past your navel.

You haven't had much heads in the twenty years of your life, most of the guys being completely against the idea which made you feel insecure to bring up the topic in bed, but Jungkook does it like his life depends on it.

He growls at the sight of you dripping into his sheets and he seems to enjoy the idea of being the influence behind it. But none is going through your head at the moment, not the metal on his lips grazing against your folds, or the fact that Jungkook is grinning each time you cry his name, it feels unreal to feel something like this.

His mouth is wrapping against your entrance and he is balancing your lower body on his palms to help him reach the right depths inside you. While all you can muster up is the strength to grope the bedsheets in your fist and close your eyes at the pleasure.

Jungkook brings his head higher to give some attention to the throbbing clit, catching it between his teeth and triggering the bundle of nerves just the perfect dose to have your hips jolting up to his face.

He can't take it himself when you are now whining and chasing for your release, so he is slightly humping against the bed to get some friction.

He licks a slow stripe up till your abdomen and slowly raises to your face, already fucked out and dishevelled to keep up with his dominant orbs.

He swears he had never felt so much warmth and care for sex with any of his previous partners, in relationship or not, all he could think is how good can he treat the pleading eyes underneath him.

"Is there something you like that you want me to do?", he says, fingers grazing once again to your crotch to not deny you from his contact. Only this time he is exploring the tightness of your pretty cunt with two skillful fingers.

Is there? You are not sure. Or in other words you are too caught up at the sense of him fingering you. It's not like you had enough experience or people who cared enough to ask that question. It astounds you that never in this entire foreplay he asked for any favor for himself.

"I'm not sure…", you whisper and then maybe you have something on your mind " um I guess I would like to be choked" Okay this felt embarrassing.

He smiles before sliding his free hand from your lips to your neck, and applies slight force, careful to not hurt you in the slightest bit.

"Is that fine?"

"Yeah", you muffle through the decreasing course of air.

He pulls up your face by the throat to attach lips once more. He just can't seem to get enough of kissing you senseless. Then, the tip of his long ignored cock is teasing the length of your pussy twice before it's stretching you out to the brim.

Bodies flushed and hot, his pace is deep and slow, making sure to kiss the cervix every time he is inside.

He watches as your eyes close shut and flutters around whenever he is grazing against your sweet spot. Both of your ears lost and eager for the moans looming out of each other, his more like what he sounds at the gym. Nice observation Y/n.

In this span of sexual energy you shared, you can make some obvious conclusions. Sex with him was surreal, both in terms of domination and the care he had. Rocking against him and keeping up with his hips was attainable— Compared to the intense eye contact he tries to hold, or the way he cups the side of your face and rubs the pad of his thumb on your cheeks while he kisses you during sinking back in, or the way his eyes glow at the beauty of your body open for him. It makes you feel special and it's difficult to respond to these gestures when you never felt this way before.

Jungkook could tell that from your face, but he hopes he lasts with you enough to help you know the worth you hold. You couldn't think too much about anything when you are busy squeezing around his length and coming twice in the first ten minutes.

By the third orgasm Jungkook is nearing his own and he pulls out to pump a few times before coming on your stomach.

"Was it okay?", his voice is all over the place, still balancing his body on his arms while you are amazed by his strength.

"It was amazing Jungkook", you smile. You have known a lot about Jungkook over the few dates you spent with him. That he likes literature, classics and philosophy, designs tattoos as a subconscious thing, that his game is A-1, and he likes working out almost three hours a day. Good for you. But it wasn't until now you know him to be gentle, like he is afraid to crush you under a feather touch. You don't know him as someone who is staring deep into your face after a good fuck, speaks nothing, smiles widely, and plants a peck on your forehead before getting off the bed.

He does the honors of cleaning both of your bodies with a towel, it's not like you have any strength left in you anyway. And then pulls out an ointment from the bedside table and plops next to your body.

"There. You need this to protect the tattoo", he takes off the nozzle and applies a required amount against the words on your chest and massages against them.

"Now go to sleep Juliet", he mocks, pulling up the sheets over you both "good night".

You snuggle against his hard chest, kissing his pecs before resting on it, "Good night Romeo".

thank you so much for reading!! please leave a feedback!!

★ taglist: @pjmochii (dm, ask or comment to enter the tl!)

★ credits: @/rainbeary on spotify : songs that'll make you feel everything's in slow motion playlist

★ banner & boards: by me :)

a/n: this is my first time writing smut and i basically died of second hand embarrassment during the process. pardon for my untalented ass, i tried this wip continuously for a week and i seriously don't think it could get anything better though it's probably not much.

© banqdanfnfic 2021, all rights reserved. do not modify, translate, or repost my works. modification, translations, and/or redistribution of my works on any platform is strictly prohibited.

#bts ff #bts fanfic #bts army #bts smut #bts jhope #bts fanfction #bts x reader #jungkook #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #bts jungguk #jungkook smut #jungkook ff #bts jungkook #bts jimin #bts namjoon #bts fic #btsedit #fan fiction #fanfic #bts authors #bts aus #bts au fic

[bitsandbobsandstuff]

Ink on his heart

Summary: Here’s how Bucky Barnes got a haircut and then decided it was about damn time he controlled his own destiny - starting with a bit of ink. 

Star Spangled Bingo Square: “A thoughtful gift”

Characters: Bucky Barnes x TattooArtist!Reader

Words: 7,400 Warnings: Tattoo experiences, a couple stories about war. Some swearing. Mostly lots of feels and fluff.

A/N: This one has been in my head a long time, I love tattoos and I love the idea of Bucky getting them! While I desperately wish I could draw the designs in my head, hopefully you get enough of a word picture to imagine. And yes, it is kinda long (I know, I know), but I couldn’t stop myself! 

Want to find all my stories? Search #bitsmasterlist or try the link in my bio!

*****

Not that Bucky’s counting, but it’s been three days, 18 hours and 26 minutes and he can’t get over it.

In the damp, chilly hours before dawn, he sits on the floor of the tower living room, watching the marshmallows in his hot chocolate melt in white swirls. Now and then, he lifts his eyes to the windows, finds the faint edges of his reflection in the dark glass, and tilts his head. Tentative fingers scratch through close cropped hair and a slow smile appears. Even now, he expects long strands trailing through his fingers. Believes he can feel the phantom tug of a snarl.

It was just a haircut. What a simple, ordinary thing.  

But Bucky Barnes has never been ordinary.

That small act triggered a startling transformation. Decades of heartbreak fell away with that dark hair, revealing the shape of a man he begins to remember, and it makes him think. About small things, about change. About simple acts making an extraordinary difference.

The last haircut Bucky remembers before the beginning of his first ending, was January 1945. The memory came back one evening, of a tent in Austria, the heavy silence of snow drifting down. He remembers Steve with a dull scissors, snipping carefully along his ear, remembers the catch of a knife gently shaving his neck. It was a ritual they shared for years. When pennies were tight and life was tough, they took care of each other.

And then? Then there was after.

After the fall, after capture, after the world went pear-shaped. Hydra wasn’t concerned with the formalities of self-care, a haircut was functional. Sharp scissors biting into his scalp, rough hands tearing his hair, a harsh slap if he considered resisting. Get it done and get it done fast. The Asset has work to do.

He despised those haircuts.

But now, here he is. No more handlers and horrors. No more running. No more hiding. No more ropes dragging him somewhere he doesn’t want to be.

Wresting back his independence was exhilarating.

When Steve had finished this haircut - because Bucky still preferred a Steve Rogers special to anything - he’d dusted off Bucky’s shoulders and waited. Sam stood behind him, and Bucky rolled his eyes, expecting a barrage of sassy comments.

But Sam just ruffled the freshly cut hair and laughed.

“Not bad old man. Still not as handsome as yours truly, but hey - maybe someday.”

Such a simple thing, a haircut.

It makes him wonder what else he might do, just for himself.      

Fuzzy and disconnected, an old memory flickers to life. It buzzes in his brain, images and connections filtering through the cracks and Bucky lets out a breathless laugh.

“Yeah,” he murmurs to himself. “Okay.”

He closes his eyes and sips his hot chocolate.

*****

Steve yawns when he answers the door. Blond hair spikes in every direction and he rubs his eyes, looking for all the world like a sleepy, overgrown toddler.

“Hey, man. Everything okay?”

Bucky leans against the doorframe and chews his thumbnail while he gathers his thoughts.

“Sure, just - can I get a favor?”

Bemused, Steve ushers him inside and Bucky plops in the red bean bag chair Steve keeps tucked beside his dresser. Stretching out his legs, he waits for Steve to flop back into bed and snuggle his pillow, before he speaks.

“Remember back in ’37 when we were coming home from that shitty bar in Midtown, and we saw that sailor getting a tattoo?”

Whatever Steve expected, it wasn’t this. It takes him a moment to conjure the image, but when it comes he belts out a laugh.

“That terrified kid gettin’ a big heart on his arm? Looked ready to shit his pants?”

Bucky grins at the memory, a milk-faced kid with hair dark and shiny as an oil-slick.  

“Thought he was gonna puke on the guy.”

“Yeah, and didn’t we stand outside that window arguing while you tried to convince me we both needed one? Something about good girls liking bad boys?”  

“Hey, I stand by that statement!”

“Oh fuck off, you know exactly what your Ma would’ve said if we’d come home with tattoos.”

“Yeah,” Bucky chuckles. “God, she’d a skinned me alive.”

“Damn straight,” Steve agrees and they fall quiet, momentarily lost in shared memories of a woman with a voice of steel and a heart of gold.

Bucky leans forward and rests his chin on his knee.

“You know, all these years and I’ve never really - done anything like that,” he admits wistfully. “Gotten something done to me, I mean. Something I decided on my own. If that makes sense?”

Controlling his own destiny, choosing to do something by himself, instead of always accepting things done to him - the idea is intoxicating. He remembers the pained grimace on that sailor’s face and he relishes the prospect.

Pain you choose to feel holds a different meaning, than the torture he knows.

“S’never too late, Buck,” Steve says drowsily. “You can do anything you want.”

Bucky contemplates Steve’s words. He can do anything he wants. Heart beating fast, he takes a deep breath.

“So listen, I was thinking -”

*****

For two straight weeks, Steve works on ideas.

The floor of his bedroom is littered with sketches and concepts, crumpled sheets of paper dappled with flowing lines. Finally, after midnight on a dreary Thursday, he knocks on Bucky’s door. The moment it opens, he shoves his tattered leather portfolio in Bucky’s hands.

“So, I guess, uh - here.”

Steve crosses his arms, his toe tapping nervously, and Bucky chokes down a laugh. Some things about Steve Rogers remain comfortingly unchanged. No matter how incredible his work, all confidence seems to evaporate the moment Bucky lays eyes on anything.

—

“Give it back asshole!”

“God dammit Steve, YOU’RE the one who asked me to look!”

“Yeah well, I changed my mind, now give it back!”

—

Bucky remembers laughing while Steve chased him around their apartment. He remembers the neighbors banging on the wall, shouting at them to shut up, and he remembers the smell of their forgotten scrambled eggs burning. But most of all, he remembers that drawing - he tucked that portrait of his mother in his rucksack the day he shipped out and it stayed there, a good luck charm all through the war.

Steve had cried when Bucky told him.

Because Bucky’s opinion was always the one that mattered. Seventy years changes nothing.

Tonight, he opens the leather case, revealing three separate drawings. Outlines of black ink and a rainbow of colors paint over the curves and breaks of a human form and he pores over each page. Each drawing is utterly unique, telling the story of Bucky Barnes in metaphors and moments.    

There are no words.

His throat feels suddenly thick, cotton lodged in his windpipe.

“I can redo them,” Steve blurts out. He snatches at the paper, but Bucky spins sideways, blocking the reach.

“The fuck you will. You ain’t touching these,” his voice cracks. Blinking back the flood of emotion, he looks up. “This is - they’re perfect, Steve. Thank you.”

Steve blushes petal pink and coughs to hide his delight. He fails miserably, of course, but that’s one more reason Bucky loves the little punk.

*****

One week later, Bucky stands before a demure brick storefront on a slow Brooklyn side street, the portfolio housing Steve’s three precious drawings clutched tight in a sweaty hand. Glancing at the address in his hand, he looks up to find stenciled letters curving across a glass window.

BROOKLYN INK ESTABLISHED 1973

“Here we go,” he mutters. Before he can lose his nerve, he shoves forward.

Three steps inside the tattoo parlor, he pulls up short.

Wow.

Black iron chandeliers hang from the ceiling, splashing sparkles across plush velvet chairs, rich violet and bright turquoise. The floor is an eclectic mix of reclaimed barn board, full of knots and whorls in every shade of brown. Artwork in black and white frames line the brick wall, tattoo designs, letters and fonts, photos of finished work. The entire space overflows with warmth, and Bucky feels instantly at ease.  

The front desk is empty, but he hears someone rattling around back, so he takes a seat. Piled high on an end table are bundles of photo albums, full of work; he sinks into the cushions and starts flipping through.  

Immersed in the images, he misses the sound of quiet footsteps.

“Are you James?”

The voice startles him and in one swift move, he manages to throw the album on the floor and tumble from the chair. Pages of photographs spill everywhere and he crawls over, hastily scooping them up and babbling one inappropriate apology after another.

“Shit! Sorry, I’m sorry! Shit, I mean I’m sorry for saying shit. Fuck, I didn’t - oh my god, I’m sorry, I’m not usually so - ”

Soft laughter greets him and he looks up in panic, a more refined apology on his lips, but the words evaporate.

Crouching beside him, graceful hands gather up the mess of photos, slipping them back into the album. Dropping it carelessly on the end table, she bounces back to her feet and offers him a hand.

“No worries,” she says with a breathtaking smile. “I shouldn’t have startled you.”

Although he has no need for the support, Bucky reaches mutely for her outstretched fingers because he can’t help but take them. When she tugs, he allows her to pull him up.  

“I’m, um - Bucky. Please, call me Bucky.”

“Hello Bucky,” she says. She shares her name and he repeats it slowly. Clearing his throat, he takes a deep breath.

“Thanks for meeting me so late, I know it’s after hours.”

“Sure,” she says lightly. “So, what can I do for you?”

This is the tricky part.

“On the website, it mentioned you had experience with - with tattooing around scars,” he begins carefully. “Scar tissue I mean. Is that right?”

With his question, her expressions turns serious. She observes him for a long moment.

“Yes, I do. Can I ask how long you served?” she asks delicately and Bucky acknowledges her perception with a short nod. He toys with the zipper on Steve’s portfolio, debating his response.

“Seemed like forever,” he finally says, and it’s the most honest answer he has.

Nodding silently, she motions him behind the counter.

“Come on back, let’s see what you had in mind.”

Hugging the pictures to his chest, Bucky follows, eyes saucer wide as they weave through the work area to her space. The shop smells like the woodsy smoke from the candles sitting along her table, mixed with ink and latex and an odd sterile tang. He inhales and discovers he likes it, the strange scent lighting him up.  

Dropping to her stool, she gestures for him to have a seat. Bucky sits gingerly, wide eyes still staring. When she catches his eye, he flushes.

“Sorry. First time I’ve been in a shop.”

“That’s okay, there’s lots to see,” she says easily. Looking at the portfolio still clutched against his chest, she grins. “Did you have some ideas already?”

He thrusts the portfolio at her. Propping it on her knees, she flips it open and he beams when he hears her astonished gasp.

“I like the colors there, if you think they’re possible?”

“Sure, might take some extra time, but I can do it,” she murmurs, pinching her lip. Turning the page sideways, she examines every minute detail, shaking her head in disbelief. “This is exquisite.”  

“I’ll tell my artist. He’s a real diva sometimes.”

“I’d say he’s earned that right,” she laughs, tracing the paper with a light finger. She flips to the second picture and tilts her head. “The grays and silvers might look nice with midnight blue for contrast?”

Bucky nods eagerly. “Yeah, I love that idea.”

She looks again, examining the intricate design.

“Can you tell me about your pain tolerance? The designs are beautiful, but they’re complex. Each will take multiple sessions to finish.”

Bucky drops his eyes. He heaves a sigh at the obligatory question.

“It’s high,” he mutters. “Very - high.”

Silence follows his admission. When he dares to look up again, he feels a twinge in his chest at the compassion he finds. He offers a rueful smile and she slowly returns it.

“Would you like to come after hours? It can get noisy during the day, if you prefer things quieter. Most soldiers like that better.”

There is a sweep of relief at her casual acknowledgement. He huffs out a shaky breath.

“That would be great. If you don’t mind, I mean.”

“Not at all. I’m a night owl anyway.”

“Yeah,” Bucky says quietly. “Me too.”

She looks back to the portfolio, carefully shuffling the pages.

The third picture appears.

And Bucky sees it, that precise moment when realization sinks in. When she realizes exactly who is sitting in her chair tonight. There is no doubt the drawing gives that fact away. Heart pounding, he flinches, steeling himself for the inevitable.

But nothing happens.

She meets his nervous gaze head on and yet - that gentle smile remains.

“Bucky,” she repeats and this time she understands. “Oh. It’s nice to meet you, Bucky Barnes. Come back tomorrow night, 9pm. Don’t be late.”

He leaves the tattoo shop feeling lighter than he has in years.

*****

TATTOO 1: FOREARM

“Show me a man with a tattoo and I’ll show you a man with an interesting past.” - Jack London

*****

Perpetually early for everything, Bucky arrives at 8:45pm the next night.

The bell over the door tinkles when he enters, and she looks up from the front desk and waves. His stomach unexpectedly leaps and he thinks it must be nerves.

“Hey, Bucky,” her voice is soft.

“Evening,” he says shyly.  

“You ready to do this?”

“Could hardly sleep last night,” he confesses with a grin.

Sliding timidly into her black leather chair, he watches her arrange tools on a shiny silver tray. An arm rest is attached to his right side, and he dries his sweaty palm on his jeans before easing his arm onto the cushion, palm up. When she drops onto her stool at his side, he offers a weak smile.  

“You got the email I sent with all the information, right? Did you have any questions?”

He scrunches his nose, recalling the long, detailed summary she shared. For each of the three tattoos he requested, she gave him a detailed analysis of the process for creating each design; broke down how long each session would take; gave explicit instructions on the healing and care process; confirmed each individual color and how it would be applied; clarified the tools that would be used, including their brand names and how each one worked; she even provided floor plans of her shop - outlining entries and exits and bathrooms and locations of fire extinguishers.

It was a novel of information that must’ve taken her hours, and he was inexplicably grateful for the time she spent just to make him comfortable.

“No questions, I just, uh - thanks. For putting all that together. It was helpful to have all the information. Helps me keep my head on straight.”

“Of course,” she says. “So this first design should take probably 5-6 hours. Since you’re new, we’ll start with short blocks and see how it goes.”

Bucky gives a jerky nod and she pauses, pressing her fingertips against the smooth skin of his forearm.

“Here are the rules. You’re in charge, okay? We can go as fast or as slow as you need. This is not a race, and I have nowhere to be but here. Any time you want to stop, you say the word and I stop. We can take a breather, grab a cup of coffee and start again - or we can call it a night. This is your experience, Bucky. You’re in control. Understand?”

There is a fierce surge of gratitude at her words. Gratitude for her kindness, for her acceptance. Gratitude for her.

“Got it,” he whispers.

And with that, they begin.

Bucky follows each step, while she measures his arm, while she considers the contours and angles of his muscle, while she cleans and preps his skin. When she finally applies a stencil, his heart is hammering so hard his teeth are chattering.

The low buzz of the tattoo machine fills his ears with a click.

When the needles touch his skin, sweat instantly beads his neck. Adrenaline drenches his tongue and for one wild moment, Bucky panics. Wonders if this was a terrible idea, because what idiot asks for pain, seriously Barnes, what the hell is wrong with you, why’re you so stupid all the -

And then - oh.

Huh.

Interesting.

Wide-eyed, Bucky follows her careful strokes, black lines appearing on his skin.

It does hurt - sort of. Obviously nothing he can’t handle; in the grand scheme of his life, this would register as a minor inconvenience, but there is a pinch.

But that spark of pain vanishes, when the raw symbolism behind Steve’s design hits him full force.

Holy shit.

How many times through the decades did Bucky Barnes die? And how many times did he rise, born again from the frozen ash of oblivion? It was simply what the Soldier did. But it was a shadow-life, nothing more. Bucky never knew how close he was to giving up, until that day above the Potomac, Steve’s bloody face beneath his furious fists. He was so far gone, so lost and forgotten, until those memories cracked the Soldier’s fierce veneer.

And suddenly he was Bucky again. Awake and alive. For the first time in 70 years he felt fire in his soul. For the first time in 70 years he could breathe.

Tears inexplicably fill his eyes.    

“All okay?”

Through a tunnel, Bucky hears her voice. Hypnotized by the metaphor inking itself into his skin, his head feels waterlogged when blinks up at her.

“Sorry?”

She scans his face, her thumb rubbing the pulse thrumming at his wrist.

“Everything okay?” She asks again and Bucky feels a potent rush of euphoria.

“Yes,” he says slowly. The excitement bubbles over and he lets out an ecstatic laugh. “Yes! This is incredible. This is - fucking hell, this is amazing.”

Chuckling to herself, she bends back to her task.

“So I guess we’ll keep going?”

“Yeah,” he laughs. “Yeah, let’s keep going.”

Two hours later, the outline of the Phoenix is inked into his skin, crisp black lines like fresh paint. Long tail feathers are curled around his wrist, the lush feathered body splashed over his forearm, her wings spread open and curving around his arm, her head reaching toward the sky.

Born from ash. Alive again.

Bucky hates to cover it up, but she insists.

“Follow the cleaning instructions and it should be fine. We need to wait between the sessions, give you time to heal.”

At that comment, he fidgets.

“Actually, I heal pretty - fast.”

“I assumed you might. Usually I say 2-3 weeks between sessions, so how about you come back in 1 week and we can see. Let’s just make sure. Does that work?”

Bucky glances at the crisp white bandage on his arm.

“Okay, that works,” he says.

She squeezes his hand and he meets her eyes.

“You did great,” she tells him.

Bucky smiles in return. And he doesn’t stop for the next six days.

*****

When he walks into the shop for his next session, he carries a large coffee for himself and an extra large iced peach green tea for her. When he gets to the front desk, he thrusts the cup at her.  

“Evening. Um, here. Saw you had one last time, so - anyway.”

“Bucky, thank you. I’ve been craving one all day.” She gives the straw an experimental bite, before taking a long drink and for some reason, the silly quirk makes his heart bounce.

After a quick check on how he’s healed, she declares him perfect and they get started, settling into a comfortable silence. After an hour of buzzing, Bucky clears his throat.

“Is it okay to talk while you work?”

“It is,” she affirms, dabbing at the ink. Glancing up, she sees hesitant blue eyes. “I’m good at listening too. Sometimes it’s nice just to listen.”  

Bucky figures that’s a fair statement. He fiddles with a stray thread on his shirt.

“Do you read much?” He asks hopefully, picturing the teetering stack of books beside his bed. She perks at the question.

“I love to read. Have a pile of books on my nightstand waiting for me to find time. What about you? Are you reading anything good now? Any favorites I should know?”

Bucky swallows the happy surprise. If he could, he’d be content to spend the rest of his years with a comfortable chair, a cup of coffee, and an unending supply of stories. He could talk about books for days, he just normally keeps quiet, because most people aren’t interested in that facet of Bucky Barnes.

So he begins to talk.

He tells her how Natasha lent him all her Russian copies of Pushkin and Tolstoy and Dostoevsky, insisting that reading in the original language was infinitely better. He describes how he found a copy of Rumi’s poetry at a yard sale, and what an incredible treasure it was. He flusters recounting how much he cried reading ‘A Fault in our Stars’ and says he was scared shitless to even see a clown for a full year after reading Stephen King.    

He talks and talks and talks, and when he finally stops to breathe, she glances up.

“It’s nice to hear a man who’s so well read,” she says and Bucky preens at the compliment. “Do you have an all time favorite? Something you never get tired of?”

A favorite? No question.

“Yeah, I do. Something I read during the war and kinda fell in love. It’s about here, I guess. About Brooklyn.”

At the description, her mouth quirks, but she keeps working.

“Did you ever think about a book quote for a tattoo?”

Now there’s an idea. He makes a mental note to think of a quote he could add as another tattoo. Or maybe another couple tattoos. Hell, one session in and he’s already addicted.  

The comment tumbles free before he realizes he’s spoken out loud. He blushes at her laughter.

“It can be addicting,” she agrees. Bucky understands completely, seeing the vibrant crimson ink soak into his skin, painting the bird’s feathers. And then she pauses, meeting his eyes with a peculiar expression. “The right words can make you feel invincible.”

Setting the tattoo machine down, she rolls her chair back a bit and sits up straight. Lifting the hem of her shirt, Bucky sees a line of gold text inked below her ribs, his eyes following the flowing cursive.

“She was all of these things and of something more,” he reads aloud.

“‘A Tree Grows in Brooklyn’ is my favorite book too,” she says quietly. There is a long, unbroken moment where they stare into each others eyes. He should say something, he thinks. Something intelligent or witty or anything, but instead he just thinks about the fact that he found a woman in Brooklyn to permanently carve pictures into his skin and she has the same favorite book as him.

Bucky always was a sucker for fate.

“That’s - that’s really - I love that,” he finally says instead.

*****

A week later, Bucky arrives with a bundle of folders and an exasperated expression.

“This is really annoying, but do you mind if I finish some reports while you work? Got behind, someone’s gonna have my ass.” Bucky raises the papers apologetically.

“No problem,” she says easily. “Let’s keep your ass safe.”

Bending back to her task, Bucky snorts a laugh. They’re just a handful of mission reports, normally he types them soon as he returns, but lately he’s been slacking, because lately he has other things he finds more interesting.

Like the scene in front of him.

Together they work, each with their own pen. Bucky writes, she colors, and the clock on the wall ticks along. After awhile, she takes a break to stretch. Rolling her shoulders, she observes him.

“Are you left-handed?” she asks curiously and it takes Bucky a moment to think.

“Oh. Uh, not really,” he says. “But I can switch. Never been a problem.”

At the confession, she raises her eyebrows.

“That’s impressive. I wish I had a talent like that.”

He ducks his head at the praise. And he keeps writing, of course. Maybe adds a bit more flair. After all, the old Bucky Barnes did like to swagger.    

*****

“Well, I think that’s it.”

It takes a beat before Bucky understands what she means. Confused, he peers up at her with a dopey expression and she gestures at his arm.

He feels his heart lurch.

It flames to life along his arm, painted in vibrant ruby red and rich crimson and deep plum, highlights edged in shining gold. Mesmerized, Bucky stares down at the lines of ink and he flexes, the tendons of his arm shifting, and the bird moves. For one wild moment, he believes if he stays still, it could leap from his skin and take flight.  

It leaves him breathless.

“God, this is better - fuck, it’s so much better - than I ever imagined. How did you - wow. I don’t know how you did it, but - thank you. Thank you so much.”

Unanticipated emotion makes his voice tremble. Because this is the first time Bucky Barnes chose something permanent for himself. Serums and metal arms and bullets and blades, those were always forced upon him, his pleading refusals met with violence and sneering indifference.

But this?

This.

This.

This is all his.

*****

TATTOO 2: BACK

“Wear your heart on your sleeve in this life.” - Sylvia Plath

*****

“So, uh, how exactly does this work?”

Standing beside the leather chair while she organizes her inks, Bucky wrinkles his nose. She looks up and motions for him to turn, straddling the chair with his chest pressed against the back.

“Are you comfortable completely removing your shirt? Or would you prefer to leave it part way on? I’ll just need it out of the way for the right side of your back.”

Bucky grimaces. Eventually she’s going to see his shoulder - he knows that - but he’s not in the mood to rip that band-aid off yet.  

“Uh - let’s do part of the way if that’s okay?”

“That’s okay,” she confirms and he awkwardly tugs his right arm free, baring the broad expanse of his back. Tucking his arms in front of him, he slings a leg over the chair and rests his chin carefully on the headrest.

He says nothing, simply stays still while she absorbs the sight. Littered up and down his back are a litany of scars, puckers from the occasional bullet, thin lines from errant blades, and a few other marks he prefers not to define. His voice is muffled when he warily asks.

“Are you able to - work with it?“    

“Absolutely,” she answers firmly and Bucky warms at the decisiveness in her tone. Her confidence makes him feel infinitely more positive.

This is the largest of his three tattoos, stretching from the tip of his shoulder blade and flowing down to his waist. It will also take the longest, but Bucky assures her he has no issue sitting perfectly still for hours.

It’ll be worth it. He can’t wait to show Sam - he’ll get a kick out of this one.

Once she applies the stencil over his skin, she goes to work, dropping into that headspace of deep focus. She works so quietly for so long, he falls into a trance, lulled by the melodic buzz.

When she speaks, it startles him.

“What made you decide you wanted a tattoo?”

He lays his cheek along the edge of the chair so he can see her from the corner of his eye when he answers.

“S’random, but back in ’37, me and Steve were out and I remember walking by this old tattoo shop over in Midtown. They had one of those big glass windows with the chair in front, so people could stand and watch. Anyway, we walk by and there was this kid sitting in the chair, and no fuckin’ joke, he was getting a big heart on his arm with ‘MOM’ written in the middle.”

“Ah yes, the ever popular ‘mom’ tribute. I’ve done a few of those,” she says and Bucky grins.

“Well anyway, I always kinda wanted something, you know? Thought about getting one before I shipped out, but I didn’t, and then it was - “ he pauses for a moment, but she encourages him with a questioning hmmm? and Bucky bravely pushes forward. “I had lots of years where I didn’t get to make my own decisions. And there was so much - bad shit that happened to me. Anyway, I guess I thought if someone’s gonna do something to me, I wanted it to be on my own terms. You know?”

“Yeah,” she murmurs. “I think that makes perfect sense.”

Bucky sits quietly, contemplating. The question has been rattling around his brain for awhile and it spills free before he can stop himself. 

“The whole process, it feels sort of  - intimate, doesn’t it?”

He flushes at the insinuation, but intimate is the best way to describe it, he thinks, this practice of someone permanently carving their art into your skin.

“It is intimate,” she says softly, leaning closer. “It’s almost like you’re - leaving a piece of your soul under someone’s skin? I don’t know if that makes sense, but that’s what it’s always felt like.”

Bucky nods, watching her capable, artistic, beautiful hands as they move, slowly transferring bits and pieces of herself to him.

What a gift. He holds on tight.

*****

It was bound to happen at one of the sessions.

It’s been dark and rainy for days, buckets dumped from the heavens, the perpetual grumble of thunder always near. When Bucky comes through the front door, he feels like a wet dog. He shakes out his jacket, stomps his boots. He feels off base tonight, the result of bad sleep, bad dreams, and one particularly bad mission. He’s frustrated with himself for bringing it with him, thinks maybe he should’ve cancelled, but the thought of skipping his session - both the ink and her - was too depressing.

So instead of holing up in his room and moping under the covers, he braved the storm.

The one inside and out.

Searching for calm, he licks chapped lips.

“Hey,” he says, cringing when his voice cracks.

“Hey, Buck,” she turns cheerfully, but when she sees him squinting at her through the droplets cascading down his face, his shoulders hunched and tense, she stops. Looks him up and down and her expression softens. Beckoning him back, she digs up a towel and a dry t-shirt with ‘BROOKLYN INK’ stamped across the front, ushering him to the bathroom.

“Take all the time you need. No rush.”

Bucky mumbles his thanks and shuts the door. Gripping the sink, he glares at the mirror, at the smudge of dark beneath his eyes, at the clench of his jaw. Closing his eyes, he breathes slow and deep.

“You’re okay. You’re okay.”

He repeats the mantra, determined to settle. He’s been eager for this session all week, he’s sure as hell not ruining it because he can’t get his idiot brain to stop spinning.

When he finally emerges, he finds her arranging her work space. Halting in front of her, he keeps trembling hands stuffed in his pockets, eyes downcast.

“I’m afraid I’m poor company tonight,” he admits quietly.

“That’s okay. We can reschedule, Bucky,” she says softly and Bucky feels the disconcerting sting of tears. He rubs the heel of his hand against watery eyes.  

“If it’s okay, I’d - I’d rather go ahead. Been looking forward to seeing you - uh, seeing you work, all week. It was just - “ he pauses and fights the temptation to spill his guts. No, he snarls internally, she doesn’t need to hear all your shit.

He clamps his mouth shut and shrugs instead.

She says nothing, but when she gives his hand a comforting squeeze, Bucky feels that familiar surge of gratitude. She guides him carefully toward the chair and he slumps into the seat, automatically tugging up his new shirt.  

“Just close your eyes and breath. You’re okay.”

Bucky rests his chin on the edge of the chair. Troubled eyes flutter shut, and the comforting buzz of the tattoo machine fills his ears, muting the sound of the storm raging outside. When he feels the prick of the needles, he lets out a weary breath. And when he feels the easy pressure of her fingers, he begins to relax.

For hours, she works. Firm strokes, painting the story across his skin.

The dark night begins to fade before she finally sets her tools aside. When he climbs to his feet, she pulls him into a gentle hug.    

Bucky sinks into her arms.

That morning, the sun begins to shine.

*****

Bucky’s been sitting for a couple hours now, eyeing the brick wall behind the chair. A question pops into his head and he feels like a jerk for not asking sooner.

“Hey - all these hours together, and I never asked you - what made you want to draw on people for a living?”

She hums at the question, and he can hear the happiness in her reply.

“Well, I always wanted to be an artist. For my eleventh birthday, my best friend Mike gave me this set of gel pens, there were a million colors. When I told him I wanted to be a tattoo artist, he let me draw pictures all over him for practice. He insisted on being the first person I inked, once I got my license. Would always tell people he was the ‘original canvas’ for my brilliance.”

When she laughs, Bucky chuckles with her; it reminds him of Steve.

“Sounds like a good man,” he says.

“Yeah, he is - he was,” she quietly corrects herself. “He was an EOD specialist in Afghanistan. Right before he left for his last tour, I drew up plans for the arm sleeve he always wanted; he planned to get it when he finished. A month later, he was in a convoy that was moving through the Gereshk Valley in the Helmand Province, when an IED hit his vehicle. He didn’t make it home.”

The story hits home like a kick in the face.

Too many soldiers, too many lives. Bucky reaches back to still her hand. He slowly turns to face her, gently tugging the tattoo machine free and setting it aside. Wordlessly, he offers his hand and she accepts it gratefully, weaving her fingers through his. It takes a few attempts before she speaks again.  

“It took me a long time to get through that. One day I met a friend working down at the VA, and I heard a vet talking about the scars on his legs. He sounded so - sad about them, you know? Kept saying he didn’t recognize himself anymore. And I just stood there thinking, maybe I couldn’t help Mike, but I could still do something.” Staring resolutely down, she considers her fingers still entangled with Bucky’s. “I did some research and took some classes and - learned how to tattoo on scar tissue.”

Bucky gazes at her. He feels a sweep of pride at the way she turned her tragedy into something beautiful.

“I’m so sorry that happened,” he says and she finally looks up, meeting blue eyes bright with compassion. “But you should know, what you’re doing for people, it’s incredible. And if you don’t mind me saying, I think he’d be real god damn proud of you.”

A tear slips down her cheek and she ducks her head, her whisper so low he nearly misses it.

“Thank you Bucky.”

*****

Hours later, Bucky hears a clatter of tools and her huff of relief.

“All done.”

Wiping her hands, she pops excitedly up from the stool and Bucky pushes back from the chair to follow. Without a thought, she grabs his metal hand, tugging him impatiently over to a set of floor length mirrors along the wall. Bucky grips tight and obediently follows, his pulse racing. When she positions him at the mirror, she adjusts the panels so he can see himself from all angles.

“There, have a look.”

Along his spine, the single metal wing bursts free, so intensely realistic, Bucky’s jaw drops. It arches gracefully up, curving over his shoulder blade and sweeping down his back, razor sharp feathers tickling his rib cage before billowing out above his waist. Made from silvers and grays and shaded hints of midnight blue, it glows in the light. When Bucky reaches toward the sky, the muscles shift beneath the ink and it creates the strangest sensation of feathers unfolding.  

All the scars littering his back, a flesh and bone patchwork of memories left by vicious handlers and fights too close for comfort, have disappeared. Blending into the steel of his new wing, their only purpose is to strengthen the image.

After all this time, he’s come to terms with the metal arm so unwillingly gifted all those years ago. But it’s remained a relic of a past life, something heavy, to drag him down.

But now, he rolls his shoulder back and his new metal wing lifts him higher than he’s felt in a long, long time.

*****

TATTOO 3: SHOULDER

“I can bear any pain as long as it has meaning.” - Haruki Murakami

*****

“So our last session.”

“Our last session,” he murmurs.

Bucky thinks for a moment that she seems glum, but maybe that’s wishful thinking.

“This is a tough one,” she warns, “but I think we can do it in one session. I won’t try and cover them up, it won’t work. The best solution is to incorporate your scars into the design. Make sense?”

Bucky pictures the pattern Steve drew, bright green leaves and vines tracing the seam of his arm, melding with the thick ribbons of raised tissue. It doesn’t matter, but he timidly asks anyway.

“Will it hurt?”

“No,” she says gently. Pressing her hand to his galloping heart, she shakes her head. “It won’t hurt much there, but you need to tell me if it hurts here. You need to tell me if I should stop. Remember, you’re in charge, okay?”

“Okay,” he whispers.

Steeling himself, he whips off his shirt, balling it up in nervous hands. The cool air blowing through the shop is a relief for his overheated body.

“Do you mind if I feel the skin here? So I can make sure I approach it right?”

“Yeah, ‘course,” Bucky mumbles. Staring at his hands, he waits.

Leaning close, her fingers brush over him, feeling the lines and ridges, assessing the canvas. For ten minutes, she tests his skin, lightly pushing and pressing, observing the scars and bumps where metal meets man.  

“Does it still hurt?”

She doesn’t want to ask, but needs to know what she’s working with. With a grim smile, he shrugs.

“Not really. Aches sometimes, but doesn’t hurt. Can’t feel much there besides some pressure.”

Nodding, she pinches her lip. “I was thinking last night, um - would you want to add anything else into the design? Nothing big, but a few flowers? Some daisies maybe?”

“Sure, I’d like that. Any reason for daisies?” Bucky asks curiously.

Pulling out a few additional bottles of ink, she absently touches the necklace at her throat, and Bucky sees a silver daisy spinning.

“Daisies represent new beginnings. Thought it might be a nice way to end, if you like?”

Does he like it? The idea of having this small thing in common?

Hell yes he likes it.

Maybe - maybe he even more than likes it?

“Yeah. That sounds perfect,” he says softly. He swallows hard and she nods encouragingly.

“Okay. Remember - stop me if you need a break.”

This one, Bucky knows will be hard. It was the reason he left it to the end - the mental fortitude required here is much different.

As she begins, he contemplates the pink furrows gouged into his skin. The memory of how they got there flashes before him, a sick image of shredded skin raked bloody beneath his blunt fingernails. Faint screams of a past life echo in his ears, the smokey cry of his own voice desperate for relief from the pain.

Cold sweat slides down his face and he slams his eyes shut, but that seems to make it worse. The images glow technicolor bright, and he grunts a frustrated breath.

And then, through the thin latex of her glove, he feels her cool hand press against his pounding heart. Cracking an eye open, he finds her calm face and he focuses on her, until his breathing begins to ease. Blinking rapidly, he drinks in the curve of her nose, the shape of her mouth, the beauty of her eyes.

His heart stutters, stunning him into a different kind of breathless.

“Okay?”

“Yeah,” he murmurs, wide eyes locked on hers. “Yeah, I’m okay. You can keep going.”

When she bends back to her task, Bucky melts. It occurs to him, that perhaps if she might let him, he could be content watching her forever.

But for tonight, this forever lasts only a few hours before she’s done.

And there it is.

Shades of green line his shoulder, the vines curling and winding around his scars, blending them seamlessly into the foliage covering his skin. Spidering vines trail across his chest, and it seems incompatible in a way, something alive bursting from the stark metal, but the leaves look so real, he swears they flutter with each breath he takes. Strewn throughout the greenery, small splotches of yellow and white reveal her daisies and he sucks in a breath.

For the first time in his life, Bucky stares at his scars and a foreign word comes to mind, one he never, ever thought to use.

“Beautiful,” he breathes. “They’re beautiful.”

*****

And so, after 3 months and 30 hours together, they were done.

Hands in his pockets, Bucky gazes at her. Ink on her hands, ink on his heart. It hits him then, this is it. They shuffle, making small talk, neither ready to say goodbye.

“Promise you’ll come back if you decide on anything else. Tattoos, piercings, anything,” she teases and Bucky laughs.

“Told you, I might be a little addicted,” he admits, knowing full well he means to tattoos and to her. “Soon as I can think of a reason, I’ll be back.”

“I hope so,” she says. There is a brief moment where she seems to gather her courage and then she leans in to press a soft kiss to his cheek. “You’re a work of art, Bucky, but - you were before any of this. Remember that.”

Dazed, Bucky touches his cheek.

Indelible and perfect, the tattoo of her lips inks itself straight onto his heart.

*****

When she arrives at the shop the next day, there is a new sight sitting on the front desk.

Daisies, their white petals and yellow faces as fresh as the afternoon sunshine filtering through the window. Bemused, she looks around the bustling shop and spies the card propped beside the overflowing vase, her name scrawled across the front.

-

“When I got home, I stood in front of the mirror for hours, staring at your artwork. Every time I told myself to go to sleep, I found something new I loved. The tail feathers on my Phoenix or the petals of your daisies. What you’ve given me is more than I ever hoped - I can never thank you enough.

But anyway, I remembered what you said - how this kind of art is like leaving a piece of your soul under someone’s skin.

Well, I won’t lie - you must have done, because I miss you already.

So at the risk of being forward (although I did break into your shop and leave this, so maybe this won’t seem that forward), would you have dinner with me?  

I think there’s another new beginning waiting out there, if you’d like to find it with me.  

Yours,

Bucky”

-

At the bottom of the note, a phone number is printed.

Brushing her fingers over the delicate white petals, she pictures him, that dark haired man with eyes like blue ink, so heartbreakingly beautiful inside and out. She feels the unconscious pull of her heart, telling her all she needs to know.

A new beginning.

She says yes.

*****

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #SSB2020 #bucky fic #bitsmasterlist #tattoos #tattoo trope

[cakesunflower]

Know Me [C.H. One Shot]

A/N: Hellloooooooo! Here is the awaited Trust Fund Cal!AU. As always, I did not expect for this to get so long. 29,893 words to be exact. I kind of hate myself for it but, like, whatever. Grab a snack (or a whole meal idk) while you read!

P.S.: Nura’s name is pronounced Noo-rah. P.P.S.: For those of you who don’t know, “beta” is Urdu for “child.”

Happy reading babies!!

People were predictable. That was one of the first things Nura Ansari learned when she first started working at the Little Palm Island Resort and Spa when she was sixteen. Nearly six years on the job and she’d developed the skill of reading people; just one sweep of her gaze and knowing exactly the kind they would be. The resort was a luxurious one, its patrons that of high celebrity rank or families with loads of money to throw around that wouldn’t make a dent in their bank account once it was gone. She could pick apart the parents who didn’t care what their kids got up to, the younger crowd with the sponsors booking them the finest room the resort had to offer to show it off on their social media garnering millions of followers, those who legitimately wanted to enjoy a family vacation, and everyone else in between. Different people, all ultimately the same beyond the surface.

But despite the exasperation she often felt with most of her encounters, Nura had learned to become patient, as well. Had perfected a smile fake enough that it seemed real—or maybe she was only given that illusion, seeing many of the patrons were blind to everything but their good time—and had become capable of accommodating the most difficult of customers. She started off as a lifeguard before moving onto waitressing and bartending, a job she came back to every summer since she turned sixteen. Hopefully, this was her last.

“Look alive, Nura.” She straightened her back immediately at the sound of Patrick, her co-worker’s voice, exiting out of Tumblr that had been opened up on her browser. This morning she was covering Elaine’s shift at the front desk, and would be off by two and would have the day to herself until her waitressing shift from seven to midnight started. 

Sticking the orange flavored gum to her mouth, Nura drew her attention to the guests approaching them, sharp eyes taking in the group of four guys and three girls. They rolled in with the breeze that engaged the plants by the door in a dance, the scent of sea salt one Nura’s nose had become numb to over the years. The early afternoon sun was high in the summer sky, the glass walls of the lobby allowing for the bright sun rays to bathe the room, the wooden and glass furniture glimmering amidst it. If she listened closely enough, Nura would be able to hear the swishing of palm trees right outside, or the relatively distant waves of the ocean. No matter how many years of this job Nura had under her belt, those were sounds she would never grow tired of hearing. Ironic, given that she’s trying to get out. Not just the island, but Florida as a whole.

The group of seven were giddy, chattering amongst themselves as the sounds of their voices carried throughout the open lobby, taking advantage of the welcome cocktails Amber was offering them by the door. The girls were carrying their totes and guys were each wearing backpacks, and Nura caught sight of Mattie and Rob, the two bellhops, each rolling in with a cart full of luggage. Nura’s eyes shifted back to the group approaching the front desk, taking them in in all the glory of their glowing skin and shining hair and bright smiles. She couldn’t forget the designer clothes that, not for the first time, made her feel inadequate in her uniform of the resort’s signature baby blue button down tucked into a black pencil skirt that stopped above her knees. 

Nura swallowed down that unwanted thought that was good for nothing but putting herself down. Comparing her appearance to that of others was something she’d put an end to years ago; she had to, in order to work this job. So she put on her smile, gaze shifting to the guy in front of the group, whose head was ducked as he used his free hand to dig out his wallet, the glass already half empty in his other hand. “Good afternoon, welcome to Little Palm Island Resort and Spa,” she began, the rehearsed speech rolling off her tongue effortlessly despite manning the front desk not being her priority. “I’m Nura, can I—”

“Yeah, can you get us checked in quickly, please? Four Island Grand Suites, all under the name Calum Hood.”

She instantly clamped her mouth shut just as the glass clinked on top of the counter which it was rested on, the familiar vein of irritation being picked at when the dark haired man in front of her dropped his I.D., credit card, and phone with the reservation confirmation pulled up in his e-mail. Nura’s gaze dropped to the items in front of her, a silent breath inhaled through her nose before she lifted her gaze, brown eyes meeting unapologetic brown.

Patrick was standing right next to her—she wished they’d gone to him instead.

Willing for her smile to remain on her face, Nura pulled the items towards her, hating that she allowed herself to take in the man before him. Tattoos inked around his skin, shown off by the short sleeved black Guess shirt that hugged his torso tightly, tucked into a pair of jeans Nura knew only someone who was accommodated to hot weather could wear in their spot of Florida. She looked down at the picture on his license—a California license, which made sense to his comfort in clothing choice—before glancing up to back at his face.

He wasn’t even looking at her, instead showing off the sharp line of his jaw as he listened to whatever the tall blonde guy was saying to his right. Even so, Nura picked up on the spark of amusement in his dark eyes, framed by long lashes, despite the absence of a smile from his plump lips. She itched to reach for her iced tea sitting under the table to flush out the thought of how handsome he was in the softness of his face and the contradictory sharpness of his features. Inviting and unforgettable. 

Nura turned her attention to the computer, pulling up his reservation order with a few clicks of the mouse. “Sorry about him.” She looked up to see one of the other guys, black hair contrasting starkly against hazel eyes, stepping up with a dimpled grin on his face and an arm draping around the first guy—Calum’s—shoulders. With a hand coming up to pat at Calum’s chest, who in turn shot a mildly irritable look towards his friend, the guy added lightly, “Apparently he didn’t nap enough on the near five hour flight.”

She didn’t miss the way Calum’s eyebrows lowered, wondering if it was for the truth behind his friend’s words or the fact that someone else was accounting for the snappy first impression he’d made. Calum’s eyes swept over to her, and she caught the very moment he finally saw her properly. Nura’s eyes were sharp, didn’t miss a single thing, catching the relaxation of his eyebrows with a blink of his eyes and the ever so subtle part of his lips.

He saw her, and yet he didn’t apologize for cutting her off or the impolite way he’d done so.

The two of them were caught in a brief lock of gazes, and Nura fought the dry smile from quirking at her lips because she knew she wasn’t going to get an apology out of him. She doubted he even knew what he’d be apologizing for. So instead she brought back her customer service smile and rather than acknowledge the brief, awkward encounter, she read off the reservations Calum had made just a week or so ago.

Nura tried not to scoff at the duration of their vacation—lasting the entire three months of summer. Which made sense, given the total that she’d caught a glimpse of at the bottom. The suites they reserved cost a little over a grand a night, each. Toss in four of those, all for a three month long stay? It cost more than her four years’ attendance of university combined.

The hum of chatter between the group never ceased, and Nura promptly ignored the gaze she felt burning a hole in her face as she made sure everything was in order before reaching in the drawers to pull out the appropriate keycards for every suite and their respective card holders. Nura finally looked up, offering the cards to the man before her, who couldn’t be that much older than her. She smiled, professional and polite, as she said, “Here you go, sir.” His eyes, deep and dark and intense, never wavered from hers. Nura didn’t back down, either, despite feeling something unfamiliar tickle her in the pit of her stomach. “Mattie and Rob over there will show you to your suites. Enjoy your stay.”

Calum picked the cards out of her grasp, the tips of his fingers brushing against hers as he did so, finishing off the rest of his drink and Nura was surprised that she had to fight herself from observing the way his throat worked. He put the glass down and as he held out the other cards for his friends to take, all of them voicing their thanks before walking away from the reception desk, Calum lingered.

He offered a nod, a subtle gesture with ducking his chin, the corner of his lips just barely lifting up to showcase what others probably found to be a charming smirk. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

“Nura.” Her name was slipping past her mouth without much thought, jumping at the opportunity to give herself a name. She refused to be boiled down to what was supposed to be a term of endearment but essentially had her nails curling into her palm. If it came from a significant other, that was fine. She encouraged it. But not from strangers who called her as such for the purpose of being patronizing. Her smile remained, though steely to match the hardness of her eyes. “My name’s Nura.”

Calum eyed her for a moment. If he hadn’t expected that from her, he didn’t let it show—and he was good at it. Instead, he scoffed, hitting the card he held with a finger as he said, almost boredly, “Noted.”

He turned, then, following his friends out the doors to follow Mattie and Rob to where their bungalows were on the island. They disappeared the same way they came, a chorus of chatter amongst them, absent of the deep voice of Calum Hood as they went. When they were gone, Nura let out a huff, finally picking up the iced coffee under the table as the cubes swished in the confined space of the cup before she took a long sip.

“So?” Patrick spoke up for the first time, prompting her to look at him as she enjoyed her refreshing drink. With a tilt of his head towards the lobby doors, he asked with a wry smirk, “What kind were they?”

Nura licked her lips, looking towards the door as if they’d reappear again. But she’d seen enough. Well—she’d seen enough of one person. And from what she perceived, the least talkative guy out of a group of them, all in clothing Nura couldn’t really afford and didn’t care enough to, anyway, was the only one on her mind as she answered Patrick in the form of a too fitting lyric, “Super rich kids with nothing but fake friends.”

*****

The smoke billowed past his lips in a thick cloud, disappearing into the air as Calum watched it dissipate into the night sky. His gaze flickered back to his friends, the glow of the tiki torches’ flames dancing across their shadowed features as they looked over the menus the host had given them. Calum looked to his left, observing the ocean that lay before them beyond the restaurant deck. The tides weren’t severe, a soft lull of water tickling the shore every so often, the sound nearly muted over the chatter of his friends.

The breeze was calming against his skin, a pleasant contrast to the warm weather. Florida heat was different than Californian heat, enough to prompt him to put on a pair of linen shorts his mother had advised him to pack. He hated wearing shorts, unless they were his athletic pairs and he was on his way to the gym. But jeans felt too restricting, and the whole point of this vacation was to let go. To relax and enjoy the company of the only people he truly enjoyed being around. It wasn’t off to the greatest start, considering he was already on his fourth—fifth?—cigarette today. He was supposed to be cutting off.

As if reading his mind, Ashton huffed to his right. “Hey, come on—none of that,” he said, frowning as he reached over to pluck the cigarette out of Calum’s hand. He let him, watching blankly as his dimpled friend snubbed it out in the ashtray on the table. Leaning back in his chair, Ashton shot him a look. “You’re supposed to be quitting.”

Calum scoffed lightly, arms crossed over his chest as he, too, remained leaned back. The breeze hit his face gently, the flames of the tiki torches dancing against the night sky as Calum shot Ashton a look. “I’m not much of a quitter.” He paused, a corner of his mouth quirking up wryly, feeling Ashton’s gaze on him as he added as an afterthought, “At least, I wasn’t.”

He didn’t even have to look at Ashton to know his friend easily picked up on the resentment coloring his tone, a bitter taste in his mouth as he thought of the moment that pushed him over the edge, eventually leading him to book a three month vacation. He wasn’t sure why Dawn getting married had churned at his heart so harshly; they’d broken up over two years ago—she was, by all accounts, free to live her life the way she pleased. Not that she hadn’t been when they were together, but Calum hadn’t expected her to be getting married.

Correction: he hadn’t expected her to be getting married to someone who wasn’t him.

Next to him, he heard Ashton sigh over the chatter of their friends and the other patrons sitting around them, feeling Ashton give his shoulders a squeeze. Calum merely pursed his lips, eyes on the snubbed out cigarette in the ashtray, ears only focused on the gentle crash of waves and crackle of the tiki torch fire as, from the corner of his eye, he saw a figure approach their table.

He didn’t look up, not until he heard them say, “Good evening, everyone. I’m Nura and I’ll be your server for tonight—can I start you off with some drinks?”

Calum head raised, gaze flickering up to the waitress who was also behind the reception desk when they checked in earlier in the day, only this time she was in the glow of the torches and the moon above and wearing a different uniform. This one was a standard white blouse tucked into black pants, a notepad in her hand and her dark hair once again in that slicked back pony tail. An easy going smile was present on her red lips, yet he didn’t miss the way the corners of her lips subtly strained when her dark eyes met his, his presence apparently not one she wanted to be in.

That was a first.

He kept his gaze on her, stubbornly so, as she jotted down the drink orders his friends were saying until, ultimately, Nura’s eyes met his. She expectantly watched him, waiting, and Calum found himself wanting her to wait it out. Testing her patience, almost. He wasn’t quite too sure why he was doing it, but Calum kind of enjoyed the way her pen was already impatiently tapping against the notepad she held. Nura’s eyes twitched into slight narrowing, and he saw the exact moment where she picked up what he was trying to do—it hadn’t taken her long.

Nura remained silent, brown eyes on brown, an intensity present in hers that told Calum she didn’t at all appreciate his childish antics despite the small, polite smile that remained on her lips. And they were childish, Calum knew. Yet he didn’t stop. He wanted to see how long she would hold out, despite the curious and confused gazes of his friends watching them. Their silence was louder than when they talked, the absence of their voices making room for the suffocating quiet Calum had been wanting to avoid.

The curl of Nura’s lips were now twinged with an unpleasantness reserved just for him. “And for you, sir?”

She’d lasted about forty-eight seconds, which in hindsight, was a long time to remain numbingly silent in an unforeseen standoff such as this one. In the expectant pout of her lips, Calum fought the urge to smirk at the annoyance that tightened her mouth as well, clearly bristling at being the one who had to submit first. One corner of his own lips curled up, not entirely a smirk, as he told her, “Whiskey on the rocks.”

She was gone with a sharp turn of her heel and fierce swish of her ponytail, and as Nura left, Luke scoffed from across the table. “Are you trying to get her to spit in your drink?”

His words earned some laughter from everyone else, and Calum merely scoffed as he lifted his left elbow to rest on the bannister of the wooden railing they were seated next to. He scratched at the back of his head leisurely, uncaring as he gave a one shouldered shrug. His gaze only briefly swept over in the direction of which Nura had left before smirking at his friend. “She’s too much of a professional to do that.”

Crystal raised her eyebrows, an amused grin tilting at her glossed lips. “Oh, and you know her so well?”

Calum smirked lazily as the scent of the flames on the tiki torches tickled his nose. It was a familiar combination, mixing in with the salty sea breeze, something he’d smelled whenever he attended a bonfire on the beach back in California. Here, though, it was fresher. More intoxicating. “No, but she never stopped smiling,” he informed, his words prompting Crystal to scoff in disbelief. “She’s the type to smile at customers and talk shit about them behind their back—but she’d never actually do anything to jeopardize her job.”

“Don’t think she’d appreciate you psychoanalyzing her, man,” Michael chortled from next to Crystal, leaned back with his arm draped on top of her chair.

Rolling his eyes with a click of his tongue, Calum waved Michael off. His tone was bored as he responded, “Doubt she’ll care, so long as she’s gettin’ paid.”

Ashton shot him a disapproving look, one that Calum promptly ignored by shifting his gaze back out to the ocean. He heard them move on from his maybe insensitive comment rather than chastising him for it beyond the look Ashton had given him. Calum wasn’t in the mood to listen, they all knew that. So he watched the ocean, the moonlight glimmering against the ripples of the water and the silhouettes of people walking upon the white sand, feeling the urge to sink his own toes into the sand before diving into the inviting water.

Everything about the resort spoke to its tranquility; the rooms didn’t even have television that would pull them into the real world. Wi-Fi availability was a given, sure, but the suites themselves didn’t come equipped with TVs or anything like that, giving guests the opportunity to relax with the help of technology. Calum was ready for it. He didn’t want to reach for his phone anymore, didn’t want to open up his laptop and somehow stumble upon something he knew would upset him. This vacation was to help him get out of his own head; a resort such as this, as well as his guitar tucked away in his suite, should be enough to help him out. Being trapped in his own head never did him any good. Why worry about his ex’s wedding when he could wonder about how many times he could go scuba diving in three months?

He listened to Luke and Sierra talk about their excitement for the impending dolphin encounter they definitely wanted to take part in, silently wondering if he should take a look at the different activities the island offered. It would serve as a distraction, wouldn’t it?

Footsteps caught his attention as Nura approached the table, a tray in her hand filled with glasses. “Here we are,” she smiled, moving around the table to put down the appropriate glass in front of each of them. The act was followed by polite thank you’s spilling from everyone’s lips, while Calum merely met her eyes as he picked up his glass and took a sip.

If Nura was perturbed by his lack of gratitude, she didn’t let it show as she tucked the tray under her arm and clicked her pen. Gaze sweeping over the table, she asked, “Are we ready to order?” Her question was met with a hum of approval and she started with Luke before moving around the table, quickly writing down everyone’s orders. When she got to Calum, however, he was mildly surprised when she raised an eyebrow and innocently asked, “Would you like another minute?”

Clearly she was still irritated with his earlier antic with the drink order, tilting her head at him as Calum pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek, fighting the smirk from appearing. The patronizing tone wasn’t one she tried to hide, and Calum could tell his friends had picked up on it as well, trying not to laugh at his expense. Not that he was embarrassed. Mildly surprised and impressed, but never embarrassed. “No,” he answered with a lift of his chin, not one to break eye contact as he closed the menu and offered her a tight smile of his own. “I’ll have the shrimp and spaghetti skillet.”

Nura didn’t say anything, instead just wrote down his order and Calum wondered if she was fighting the urge to roll her eyes. As she collected the menus, a man standing in the doorway that led to the indoor dining area called her name. “Nura—I gotta step out for a few minutes, mind getting behind the bar?”

She looked over her shoulder, giving him a nod as she answered, “Sure thing, Ted.” Then, smiling at the rest of them, she said, “I’ll be back with your food.”

Before she left, though, Michael raised his eyebrows. “Are you a bartender, too?” With an impressed scoff, he asked, “What don’t you do around here?”

Nura let out a soft chuckle, menus in one hand and the tray in the other. “Uh,” she pretended to consider for a moment with her face scrunched and an eye squinting shut. Calum took a sip of his whiskey, focusing on the spicy taste rather than cute expression of the waitress. “Housekeeping—I hate making my own bed, never mind someone else’s.”

Her response enticed laughter from the table, smiling as she chuckled along before her eyes met Calum’s. He wasn’t as engaged as the rest of them, sipping his drink and threatening to empty his glass before his food even arrived. Nura’s smile lessened as she pressed her lips together, looking away from him and nodding at the rest of them as she repeated, “I’ll be back with your food.”

The air was lighter to breathe once she left, and while Calum didn’t quite understand the tension he created with someone on his first day here, he also didn’t quite care enough to fix it.

Fuck. He either cared too much or not at all. He needed to find a balance, fast, before he drove himself crazy.

*****

Yoga hadn’t ever been something Nura was interested in. She preferred a good cardio workout, maybe blow off some steam with a willing partner in bed, but yoga hadn’t ever been on her radar. But somehow she’d ended up in a yoga class during the fall semester of her junior year at college and decided it was something she actually enjoyed. It woke her up, made her in tune with her body and reveled in the stretch of her muscles. Which was why on the days her shift didn’t start until later, her day would still start with the sun coming up and partaking in morning prayers before leaving her room to make it to the eight-thirty yoga class the resort offered to its guests.

The sessions were held on a large deck facing the beach, the sun already warming them as the crash of waves along the shore served as a peaceful soundtrack behind the voice of the instructor. It was easy for Nura to get lost in the tranquility of the practice, allowing herself this moment’s peace before jumping into the rigorous activities her job required from her. While the rest of the class would go off to enjoy the resort, Nura would be getting ready to dive into an eight to ten hour long work day. Yoga in the morning was just one way to ensure she didn’t lose her mind, even if she was in the company of women who attended classes with dangling earrings and designer leggings and sports bras.

“Heard you had front desk duty yesterday,” Christy, the yoga instructor, hummed once class was wrapped. With a knowing smile, she asked, “How’d that go?”

Nura scoffed, shouldering the bag that had her yoga mat rolled in. “Turns out some people are just as irritable checking in as they are before they get their food,” she responded, keeping her voice appropriately low in case a guest or two heard her.

Christy’s grin widened with a chuckle, reaching up to tighten her pony tail, the action only reminding Nura of having to take out her space-buns when she got ready for her shift. “Don’t you just love humans?”

Nura’s expression fell flat, voice dry as she returned, “Not particularly.” Checking the time on her watch, she let out a breath and said, “Alright, I gotta go get ready. I’ll see you later, Chris.”

Her friend waved in return. “Happy waitressing.”

To get to her own suite, Nura had to trek past a cluster of guest state suites, but it was a walk she enjoyed. The trees stood tall all around her, leaves surviving as a canopy to shield from the sunlight. No matter where you stood on the island, the sound of the ocean could always be heard, soft and steady as the waves fell upon the shore. The salty air tickled Nura’s nose pleasantly, a scent she’d become accustomed to as it mixed in with the fresh citrus smell that clung to the island as a whole. It smelled like home.

It hadn’t always felt that way. Nura had gotten her job at the resort the summer she turned sixteen, serving as a lifeguard and occasionally a waitress. It was a two hour drive from her home in Homestead, and not a journey her mom was particularly fond of her taking, but it was the best job offer she received at the time. The money was good, as were the accommodations, but Nura was only thinking of it financially. Whatever money she didn’t use for herself, she sent to her mom to help out. Being a single mother working as a teacher, supporting two kids, Nura did her best to make it as easy for her mom as possible. 

Biting the inside of her cheek, Nura reminded herself to call her mom when it was both their lunch breaks.

The sound of something melodic pulled Nura out of her reverie, her steps slowing as the strum broke through her thoughts. She furrowed her eyebrows, eyes darting around to trace the sound before her gaze lifted a bit to land on the back porch of one of the bungalows. Nura stopped, eyebrows raising when she caught sight of one of the guests she’d checked in as well as served the other day. The kind of rude one with dark hair and admittedly handsome face—Calum, she remembered.

Her grip on the strap of her yoga bag tightened, head tilting ever so slightly as she observed him sitting on the porch. He hadn’t noticed her, and the porch wasn’t too far from where she was, and Nura noticed the ink that was wrapped around his arm coloring his chest. Calum was oblivious to her presence where she stood on the sandy pathway, head ducked as his fingers plucked at the strings of the guitar he was playing.

It sounded nice, whatever he was playing, a consistent tune that streamed through the towering trees and was carried by the island breeze. Nura couldn’t help but think how it fit him, the broody, kind of asshole musician vibe he apparently owned. She knew it was probably unfair of her to label him so negatively, since she only had two interactions with the man, but Nura had become an expert in reading people based on how they treated her and/or the way they acted in general. You would think people would be their most relaxed self on vacation, but Nura had come to understand that more often than not, these people were running away from whatever their reality was back home.

Nura let out a breath and maybe Calum heard it, or he just looked up at that exact moment, but his eyes landed on hers and she saw the quirk of his eyebrow as he recognized just who happened to be watching him. She watched the way his chin lifted, fingers ceasing their work on the string as the guitar remained resting on his thighs, and even from where she stood, Nura could see the way his eyes narrowed in observation. Could feel his gaze take in the sight of her and hated that wherever his gaze seemed to linger on her body, she felt a warmth spark without her wanting it to.

“This isn’t a free show,” he called out, deep voice carrying a rasp that traveled with his arguably annoyed voice.

Nura bit her tongue, eyebrows lowering into a frown at his words as she ignored the warmth that bloomed in her cheeks. But biting the tip of her tongue didn’t seem to be enough, and it was like Nura lost all control of her mouth as she instantly retorted, “Wouldn’t pay for one, either.”

Her breath hitched in her throat, eyes widening as she heard her own words echo in her ears and saw the way Calum raised his eyebrows. Shit. For six years, she’d become so good at keeping her mouth shut, at always waiting for a guest to be out of sight and earshot if she ever wanted to voice the irritated, mocking thoughts that ran through her head during interactions she could do without. Never had Nura allowed for a resort guest to hear the way she occasionally badmouthed them—she couldn’t help it. Dealing with uptight, self-righteous rich people was difficult and Nura had to blow off some steam some way. 

But never in their presence. And now here she was—talking back to a guest right to their face.

She felt mortified, especially knowing if this got back to her boss, Mr. McNulty, she’d be in deep shit because the guests were basically the gods around here. Nura held her breath in her lungs, eyes wide and lips parting as her frozen brain tried to break out an apology—though, apologizing to Calum, who Nura was slowly realizing looked something akin to amused, was not how she wanted to start off her morning.

Calum scoffed, eyes narrowing ever so slightly as he gave a challenging tilt of his head. “Excuse me?”

Was amused the right word? He looked surprised at her response, as if no one had ever close to insulted him to his face before. Maybe they hadn’t. Nura had been around the filthy rich long enough to know they only ever were told what they wanted to hear, always kept happy because they had money and were therefore superior to them. A bunch of bullshit, in Nura’s opinion. But she needed the money they were so willing to spend, so she stayed silent and did her job. Until now, it seemed.

Though apologizing to the dark haired man tasted bitter in her mouth and she wanted to do nothing but spit out another dry remark, Nura still managed to stammer out a quick, “I, uh, I’m sorry.” She forced herself to move on, feet moving quickly as the warmth in her cheeks intensified, uncaring of some of the sand slipping into her flip flops as she went and all too aware of the intense gaze burning a hole in her back that seared through her clothes.

Nura could only hope he wouldn’t file a complaint. She knew of guests who did so for much less.

*****

“Aw, man—you gotta stop with that.”

Calum instantly exited out of the app and locked his phone, dropping the device on the space between his legs as he remained sitting on the poolside chair. But it was too little, too late given that Ashton had seen exactly what Calum had been doing on his phone, and the brown eyed man let out a defeated huff as he linked his fingers together. Feeling the need to defend himself, Calum grumbled, “It’s not like I’m hung up on her.”

Ashton pursed his lips, a shadow of a dimple appearing under the scruff he’d decided to sport while on vacation. His hazel eyes were hidden behind a pair of sunglasses, but Calum knew his best friend well enough to know he wore a look of disapproval. “No, you’re just hung up on the fact that she’s getting married.”

The inside of his cheek would soon start bleeding with the way his teeth were biting into it, lips pursing at Ashton’s words as the sun beat down his back. “It’s not that, either,” Calum responded, voice quiet among the hum of the beach. Ahead of them, he could see their friends enjoying the clear blue water of the ocean, the music playing from Michael’s speaker next to them consistent. 

He could hear the confusion in Ashton’s voice as he asked, “Then what is it?”

That was the million dollar question, wasn’t it?

He didn’t miss Dawn—Calum knew that for a fact. They’d dated for seven months and Calum liked her enough to stay with her that long, but deep down, he’d always known they weren’t together for the right reasons. He’d wanted a warm body at night, a hand to hold at events, and she. . . She’d wanted his money. Calum had always kept that thought in the back of his head, not wanting to think about it too much but not allowing himself to forget about it, either. He’d known it, his friends had known it, and yet Calum kept Dawn around a lot longer than he should’ve. 

Finding another girl to fall in bed with would’ve been easy. But then it would be the same thing all over again, wouldn’t it? Just another person wanting to get into his pockets. That’s how it was with almost every person Calum met, except for the friends he’d escaped to Florida with. Except he’d escaped with a hollow pit in his chest and a bitter taste in his mouth. He was lucky his friends hadn’t called him out on his less than enthusiastic attitude, even if they’d only been here for three days. The point of being here was to forget about the shit that seemed to weigh him down back home and so far, he wasn’t doing too good of a job at it.

Calum rolled his lips into his mouth, dragging his upper teeth along his lower lip before letting out a long sigh. “I don’t know,” was all he could say to Ashton. And it was the truth.

They were silent for a moment, listening to the buzz of the beach around them, and Calum knew Ashton was trying to find some words of comfort, encouragement, support for him. Calum appreciated it, but he didn’t need to hear them—nor did he need them, period. Calum didn’t need pity over a problem he couldn’t even figure out. What he needed was to forget about it altogether.

Apparently Ashton seemed to have the same idea.

“Come on—let’s get a drink,” he declared, clapping Calum’s back as he stood up.

Calum followed him with his eyes as Ashton veered off to the right, before sighing and standing up as well to walk with him. Unsurprisingly, Ashton filled the silence between them, talking about a new band he’d discovered while fooling around on Spotify that he thought Calum would like. And although his mind felt heavy, Calum still remembered the name Ashton mentioned to look them up later. New music was always something Calum was looking for.

They made their way to the beach cabana bar, dodging groups of people playing tanning and kids making sandcastles as they went. The kids were few, Calum noticed. Most of the guests were either people his age, or those older wanting to enjoy a vacation without their kids, probably having left them behind with grandparents or nannies. Calum pursed his lips; that’s how it had been with him. His parents had always been busy with the distillery or some other kind of business that always took priority; loving when they were around, completely absent when they weren’t.

“Hey—Nura, right?” Ashton’s laugh cut through Calum’s thought, forcing him to blink back into reality as his gaze zeroed in on the woman behind the round bar. Oh, great. Calum took in a breath as he gripped the edge of the bar and braced himself on it, watching as the front desk girl-slash-waitress turned to face them. Her pink lips lifted into a smile directed towards Ashton, faltering ever so slightly when her dark eyes met Calum’s. Ashton folded his arms on top of the bar, dimpled and charming smile on his own face as he introduced, “I’m Ashton, and you already know Calum.”

“I do.” She didn’t sound too excited about that, and Calum found himself having to fight back a smirk as she stood in front of them, bracing her own hands on the bar. Unlike this morning when he’d seen her in leggings and a fitted tank looking like she’d just come back from an early morning workout, Nura now wore the familiar white blouse with a name tag. “What can I get for you?”

Before Calum could answer, Ashton said, “Two tequila sunrises, please.” Then, turning to Calum, Ashton continued, “You know what you need?”

Dragging his gaze away from Nura, who’d immediately pulled away to make the drinks, Calum raised an eyebrow at Ashton, voice dry as he rebuked, “Other than a three month vacation?”

His friend chuckled. “Well, that, but also a big ass, five course meal that I’m pretty sure we can set up for dinner tonight,” Ashton said, an excited grin on his face. “A private dinner type of thing right on the beach. That can be done—right, Nura?”

Nura, who had just returned in front of them to place down their drinks, raised an eyebrow at her sudden inclusion in the conversation. She looked at Ashton before shifting her gaze to Calum, surprise evident on her face before she looked back to the dimpled man. “Oh, uh, yes it can. You just give the front desk a call and they’ll set it up for you.”

“Awesome,” Ashton grinned, slapping the bar top with his free hand, the other wrapped around the glass as he pulled himself away from the bar. “Thanks, Nura.”

While Ashton was already walking back to where their friends were, Calum had been pulling out his wallet to pay for the drinks. He placed down the money, eyes drifting to the tip jar that already had a bunch of bills inside. Calum scoffed lightly before pulling out some more bills, folding them up as his gaze lifted to Nura. She was drying a glass, gaze on her own actions, seemingly making it a point to not look towards Calum as she pretended to listen to a conversation some other customers were having on the other side.

A corner of Calum’s lips curled up at her obvious disinterest, arm folding on the bar top to lean forward as he held the folded bills up between two fingers. Nura looked over, raising an eyebrow, and Calum tilted his head ever so slightly. Before he could help himself, he mused, “Unlike you, I’m capable of being nice.”

A surge of satisfaction shot through him at the way Nura’s lips parted at his words, eyes narrowing as she watched him purposefully stuff the bills in the tip jar. She wasn’t hiding the irritation that sparked through her brown eyes, his smug act of kindness one that obviously seemed to tick her off. Nura scoffed lightly, taking two steps towards him, hands braced on the bar and showing Calum the thin silver chain she wore around her neck which hid beneath her shirt. 

He could clearly see the way his words had prickled at her skin, pink lips in a tight smile as she returned, “There’s a different between being nice and being decent. You’re only just barely proving yourself to be the latter.”

Calum scoffed through his nose, his smirk still on his lips despite the shot she’d taken at him—one that did, strangely enough, both amused him and threatened to rile him up. He remained put longer than necessary, brown eyes locked onto hers, momentarily wondering if she was going to apologize for the snappy comment like she had earlier this morning. He wondered if the slight pinkness across the apples of her cheeks was because of the Florida heat or something else.

“Nura.” A voice cut in, and she finally broke her gaze and Calum looked over her shoulder to see another resort employee step behind the bar. “Time for your break; you gonna take fifteen or the full hour?”

Nura was already untying the black waist apron she wore. “Hour. I gotta pray and call my mom,” she informed the other worker, folding the apron under the bar before moving to get out. Calum pushed himself away from the bar, watching as Nura went, sipping his drink and smirking around the straw when she glanced at him over her shoulder before quickly turning and walking away.

Calum chuckled lowly, feeling a bit better than he had before. The pinkness in her cheeks had nothing to do with the heat, he was sure.

*****

“Nura, I need you waiting on the private dinner,” Mr. Gonzalez, the restaurant manager, informed her just as she gave the order for table seven to the kitchen. “Lorraine will cover your tables.”

Nura blinked, not entirely expecting to give up her section to serve just one table. “Oh, but—”

“No buts, Ms. Ansari,” Mr. Gonzalez cut in with a shake of his head. He’d always been a bit of an impatient man. “They specifically asked for you, so go. They’re ready to order drinks.”

He didn’t give her any room to argue, already turning away as Nura defeatedly pressed her lips together and exhaled sharply through her nose. She had a feeling she knew exactly whose private party that was—especially if they specifically requested for her. Tightening her pony tail, she made her way towards the doors of the restaurant that led to the outdoor seating before following the path down to the private area of the table on the beach. As she neared the table, the chatter reaching her ears along with the distant sound of the ocean, her suspicions were proven correct when she recognized Calum, Ashton, and the rest of their friends.

“Good evening, guys,” she greeted, putting on her best customer service smile once she was by them.

“Evenin’, Nura—great seeing you again.” The smug patronizing tone wasn’t lost on Nura as her gaze darted to Calum, who was grinning up at her a bit too widely. Truth be told, if any of them, other than Calum, had been the one to request her service, Nura wouldn’t have minded. From the few interactions she’d had with them, they all seemed like genuinely nice people. Nura knew how to pick them out from the ones who smiled to her face but had less kinder thoughts running through their minds. Calum’s friends didn’t seem like those type—Calum, on the other hand, was a different story.

And as much as she didn’t want to give into his contempt, had taught herself better, Nura couldn’t help but return, a bit dryly, “I’ll bet, especially since I’m told I was specifically asked for.”

Calum leaned forward, arms crossed on the table as he looked up at her from where he sat on the right side of the table, the other end from her sitting next to a pretty blonde haired woman. “You were such a wonderful waitress last time and served us so well—we didn’t wanna mix it up.”

His patronizing words sunk deeply in Nura’s bones, and though she fought to keep the effect of his statement off her face, it didn’t stop Nura from clenching her jaw and tightening her grip on the pen. She noticed the looks the others at the table were sending Calum, silent warnings, but he didn’t seem to care. Why would he? She was just the help—it never mattered to people like him that their words could have any kind of impact, big or small, on the people whose job it was to make sure they were happy.

Her skin was warm, Nura could feel it under his douchey smirk. And while hate was a strong word she never used lightly, Calum was really coming close to it. Who the hell did he think he was, so blatantly poking at her profession? This wasn’t what she wanted to do for the rest of her life, and even if it was, who the hell gave him the right to shit on it? Nura knew people like him; they either built themselves from the ground up, or never had to work a day in their life and were rich off the expense of everyone else.

One look at Calum, she knew it was the latter.

A fire simmering in the pit of her stomach, Nura ignored Calum’s words, forcing politeness into her tone as she asked the rest of the table, “Can I get you started with some drinks?”

They all seemed to slowly snap out of the looks they were sending Calum, one by one telling her of their orders as Ashton took it upon himself to order the first round of appetizers as well. Nura jotted it all down with a riled up flushed face, barely looking at any of them as she quickly said, “I’ll be back with your drinks.”

She turned around to leave, only making it a few feet away when she heard one of the girls say, “Cal, what the hell’s gotten into you?”

At least not all of them were assholes.

Nura didn’t stay long at the table after dropping off their drinks, heading back inside to check on their appetizers before bringing the dishes of a shrimp platter and fried calamari to the table. The minutes of taking their orders for their entrees had passed by in a blur, settling into reality only for the brief moment of telling the blue eyed, blonde guy the specials of the night. She didn’t bother looking at Calum as he told her his order, thought she wasn’t immune to his gaze resting heavily upon her.

A polite, “Your food will be ready shortly,” later, and Nura was gone.

She found herself in the bathroom after dropping off their orders in the kitchen, sighing as she stepped out of the stall to go wash her hands. Her frustration had settled a bit since first hearing Calum’s words, though she still couldn’t believe the audacity of the guy. Just because he had money, didn’t give him the right to basically insult her in front of her friends. And although Nura had tough skin, it didn’t mean nothing got to her. Was it so damn hard to treat another human being with respect?

As she dried her hands with the air dryer, she heard the ladies’ room door open, turning when she heard her name being called. She looked over her shoulder to see the blonde girl from Calum’s table, turning around once the dryer stopped as the woman offered her an apologetic small. “I just want to apologize for Calum,” she said, heels clicking on the linoleum floor of the bathroom. “I’m not trying to make excuses for him, but honestly, he’s normally not so rude.” She was nervously twisting a ring on her left hand, and Nura wasn’t surprised to see the rock that was on her ring finger. “He’s just going through something.”

Nura wanted to laugh. This woman seemed nice, and although she said she wasn’t trying to make excuses for Calum, it sure sounded like she was. Chin lifting, Nura let out a breath through her nose and surmised, “Everyone’s going through something. It doesn’t give him the excuse to patronize others.”

She nodded quickly, and Nura was jealous of how shiny her blonde hair was under the bright lights, or how her blue eyes seemed to glitter as well. “You’re absolutely right.” She offered another small smile. “I just wanted to apologize on his behalf.”

It would be better if Calum decided to take responsibility for his own words, but Nura appreciated the sentiment nonetheless. So she returned the smile with a single nod. “Thank you, uh. . .”

“Crystal,” she supplied, finally naming herself with a grin.

Nura smiled once again before taking a breath and awkwardly gesturing towards the door. “I should, uh, go check on your food.”

“Oh, right, of course,” Crystal laughed lightly, stepping aside to let Nura pass.

Nura made it halfway down the hall of the bathroom before stopping abruptly when someone turned the corner to walk in her direction, teeth instantly pressing together when she recognized Calum. He stopped as well, as soon as he saw her, chin lifting and lips parting as he let out a short yet amused chuckle. The sound irritably poked at Nura’s nerves, no matter how stupidly handsome the guy was.

Pursing her lips, she broke their gaze and continued on her way, determined to make it past him without so much as uttering a word. But Calum seemed to have a different thought in mind, because as soon as there was about three feet of distance between them, he spoke up.

“I’m surprised you didn’t fire back like you’re so fond of doing,” he hummed, effectively stopping Nura in her tracks as her dark eyes met his. Calum looked down at her, full lips adorning that damned smirk as the chain around his neck glimmered under the light. With a condescending quirk of his eyebrow, he added, “Wouldn’t want your boss finding out ’bout your lack of customer service, huh?”

Nura narrowed her eyes, tilting her head as her skin flushed once more in an angry heat. Fuck—what was up with this guy? Arms crossing over her chest, Nura threw caution out the window. She’d already shot back at Calum more than once, at this point, despite her constant professionalism for the past six years, she didn’t quite care. “What would you know about customer service?” she asked, taking the few steps towards him, undeterred by their significant height difference as she looked up at him. 

Nura then pointedly gave him a once over; the chillier weather for tonight warranted the Dr. Martens, black pants, tucked in shirt and leather jacket he wore. And pushing aside the thought of how good he looked—and ignoring the flutter in her stomach at the jewelry he also adorned and how everything looked stupidly perfect on him—Nura scoffed. “I doubt you’ve worked a day in your life. Only someone with a lack of appreciation for hard work would be so casual in basically threatening someone else’s job.”

His eyebrows lowered into a frown, the muscle in his jaw jumping as his expression transformed instantly. With a rasp in his voice, Calum returned, “I didn’t threaten your fuckin’ job.”

She scoffed with a roll of her eyes, shaking her head up at him. Of course he didn’t understand the implication behind his own words. People like him had no problem saying shit if it meant they could show off their own superiority, and it pissed Nura off. “Oh, you didn’t?” she asked innocently with a tilt of her head before her eyebrows knitted together in a glare. “Then what was that about my boss finding out about my lack of customer service?” Calum pursed his lips and Nura saw the way his throat worked, saw it in his dark, conflicting eyes that he knew she was right. “Money doesn’t give you the right to look down on others. It doesn’t make you better than anyone else. Now if you’ll excuse me—” She stepped back, neck tense as she took a breath in order to calm herself down, brown eyes meeting, what she could almost say, were disgruntled brown. “—I have to go check on your food.”

She walked past him without another word, without letting him say another word, with shoulders squared and head held high and the image of his taken aback, disgruntled expression seared into her head. Even if the anger swirled in her stomach and her skin was flushed with an indignant embarrassment as she curled her fingers into her palms, nails digging into her skin so her outrage didn’t lift her. Hate was a strong word, and while Nura didn’t feel it for the tattooed man behind her, she did feel it for the way he made her feel like she was lesser than.

*****

Pulling her hair out of the tight ponytail it had been in all day was something short of a sweet relief—she’d only feel completely relaxed when her bra was off, too. But for now, Nura settled for her dark hair falling around her shoulders as she ran her fingers through it, feeling the dull ache of a sore scalp as she approached the still open bar in the resort restaurant. It was late, nearly eleven at night, and most of the resort had cleared out save for the few guests milling around. Nura was off the clock, and that’s all that mattered.

“You look like you could use a drink,” the main bartender on duty, Riley, grinned from behind the bar, already fixing up a drink for her.

Nura huffed, leaning forward on the bar as he made the bourbon on the rocks. “Some toddler almost threw up on me. I think I prefer it when the snakes leave their kids at home.”

Riley sighed dreamily as he slid the cup over to her. “Don’t we all?”

Nura chuckled, raising the cup in silent cheers before taking a sip. Patting the bar top with her free hand, she told him, “I’m gonna get some fresh air. Thanks, Riley.”

He waved her off and she left the restaurant, walking towards the pool area. It was locked off to prevent guests from sneaking inside after hours for safety reasons, of course, but there was one gate that didn’t lock properly and maintenance never got around to fix it. The thought always made Nura scoff in contemptuous amusement, given the status of the resort and the lack of upkeep for this particular gate. But she never said anything, not when she could get into the area so easily. Not to mention the several blind spots from the security cameras.

Seriously. What were they paying millions of dollars per year for? The rich never failed to amuse her.

Nura settled down on a poolside chair, watching the pristine blue water ripple in front of her, glowing with the in-pool lights. The silent hum with the ever-present ocean waves was calming as she sipped her drink, arms resting on her knees and figure crouched forward as she sat. Nura loved sitting by the pool at night when no one was around, the usual busy hum of guests splashing and chattering away something that had gotten tiring very quickly. And with the dark sky above her, glittering with stars, it was a calming way to unwind before she headed back into her room to turn in.

“Drinking on the job?”

Nura prided herself in not letting out a startled scream at the sudden voice, head whipping to her right to follow the sound, sitting up straight when she saw Calum standing over her. He wore athletic shorts and a white and red shirt, right arm wrapped around the neck of the guitar she’d seen him playing the other day. Her heart had began racing, but calmed down when she realized there was no threat—not a physical one, anyway.

She pursed her lips, adopting a bland expression as she quirked an eyebrow up at him. “Do you see the company name anywhere on me?” she retorted tiredly, referencing to her lack of name tag that was now in the pocket of her pants. How did he even get in there?

Calum pursed his lips and Nura looked out towards the pool again, feeling her muscles tense in his presence. She hadn’t seen him for a few days, ever since she waited on his table for their private dinner. After her little confrontation with him in the hallway—which, frankly, she was surprised she hadn’t heard about from her boss—Nura had put on a smile for the rest of the table and didn’t stick around longer than necessary. Saying that she regretted giving Calum an earful would be a lie; something told her he didn’t have many people talk back to him the way she did, and doing so was as much for herself as it was for him. The guy needed to be brought down a peg or two, and although Nura couldn’t be sure it did the trick, it felt damn good to say what she wanted to.

The look on his face had been pretty fucking satisfying, too.

“Can I sit?”

Nura felt her eyebrows wanting to furrow together at Calum’s words, but she kept her expression blank as she lifted the cup up to her lips and plainly said, “You’re the guest.”

She heard him sigh quietly, exasperatedly, before sitting down on the poolside chair to her right as she took a long sip. A silence settled upon them, awkward and heavy and Nura held back from snapping at him for ruining her peace and quiet. Dozens of other chairs around the pool and he had to pick the one next to her. What damn game was he playing?

Nura looked down at her cup, the drink teasing her just as an unfamiliar scent overpowered the chlorine of the pool. Fresh, kind of citrusy, tickling her nose in a pleasant way. Nura bit the inside of her lower lip when she quickly realized it was whatever cologne Calum was wearing; fuck, of course he smelled good. Of course whatever designer perfumed he owned smelled like a fucking forest god or something. It only served to annoy Nura more.

“I wanted to apologize.” Her eyebrows drew together in a frown, not looking towards Calum as his words resonated in her ears. What? “For what I said the other day. I didn’t—I don’t think I’m better than anyone just because I have money.”

There was a tense discomfort in his voice as he spoke, particularly when he acknowledged whatever financial upper hand he had. Nura knew, instantly, she’d struck a nerve when she had thrown it in his face and, truthfully, she was surprised he was even making the move to apologize. She had dealt with many people on this resort, and most of of them never even considered apologizing to the staff for things said and done. And they were meant to just deal with it with smiles on their faces. 

Hearing Calum apologize, especially when he clearly felt so out of his element because of it, was refreshing. And Nura didn’t take that lightly.

“I’m also sorry for the way I’ve treated you since I got here.” Oh, he was still going. This time, Nura did look at him, brown eyes meeting apologetic brown, showing him that she was listening. The guitar was on his lap—he was practically hugging it, like a security blanket, which was oddly endearing—and his features had settled into soft solemnity. With a breathy, sheepish chuckle, he added, “I know I didn’t make the best first, second or third impression but I swear I’m not usually such a—”

“Self-righteous dick?” Nura supplied, unable to help herself and rolling her lips into her mouth, cheeks flushing. He was trying to apologize and she was basically insulting him.

But Calum let out another chuckle, this one more accepting as he nodded. “Yeah,” he said. Then his lips curled up a bit, a ghost of his signature smirk appearing as he added, “I mean, I’m a dick but not that shitty.”

That had her laughing lightly, some of the tension between them rising into the night sky, allowing Nura to relax slightly as she offered a shrug. It was weird, feeling even a little bit at ease around Calum, but she didn’t find herself minding it too much. “Well, I can be bitch but normally not to that extent.”

With a quirk of his eyebrow, Calum allowed his smirk to widen a bit as he said, “Dare I say we bring it out in each other?”

Nura scoffed with a single shake of her head. “If that’s true then there’s no hope for civility between us.”

Calum grinned a boyish, lower lip biting smile that was a bit too handsome on his face, and Nura took a sip of her drink when she noted the sharp lines of the crinkles by his otherwise soft, smiling eyes. “’S going well so far,” he pointed out as Nura swallowed the sip, watching as he raised the little red pick he’d been twirling between his fingers. “You mind if I. . ?”

“That depends,” Nura hummed, feeling the smirk tug at the corners of her lips. “Is it a free show?”

Calum’s eyes danced with a glimmer and Nura pretended it was a trick of the moonlight as his smirk returned and he sat the guitar properly on his lap. She tried not to focus on his biceps or the ink snaking around his arm as he returned smoothly, “On the house.”

Nura suppressed a laugh, though her smile remained as Calum returned it before his attention went the instrument on his lap. She watched his fingers place themselves in what she assumed were the right places—she knew nothing about instruments—before her gaze lifted ever so slightly to his face. His head was ducked, short dark hair unable to hide the concentration that settled on his features as he took a soft, almost inaudible breath—Nura heard it in the quiet of the poolside—before he began strumming.

The melody he played was soft, tranquil tune and Nura couldn’t tear her gaze away from him. The peace she thought Calum had destroyed with his presence was instantly returned with the gentle strum of his fingers, the rings on his fingers glinting with the movement against the pool lights and the moon above. She watched him; watched the way his attention was solely on what he was playing, the movement of his fingers, and the gentle bop of his head that went along with the tune. 

It didn’t go unnoticed how lost he looked in the music he was playing, and it wasn’t lost on Nura how he was creating magic with his fingers. She knew art when she saw it, when she heard it, and although she knew he was playing a song by Coldplay, he still played it beautifully and expertly. And the more he played, the more at ease Nura found herself being, finishing off her drink and leaning back on one hand as she listened to him. Not exactly how she thought she would end the night, but truthfully. . . She couldn’t complain. As surprised as she was, she couldn’t complain.

“Nura, is that you?”

The tune that had softly filled the night immediately ceased as both Calum and Nura looked up, and she felt her jaw tighten when she caught sight of Keith Holt, the pool supervisor, approach them. He was older than her, around thirty, with surfer style shaggy light brown hair and green eyes and a goatee that made him appear a lot older than he was. She felt her grip on the cup tighten, not entirely keen on being in his presence. Truth be told, Keith kind of creeped Nura out, especially since he’d asked her out last summer and she’d said no. 

“Hi, Keith,” she returned, hoping to keep the nonchalance in her tone as he stopped in front of them.

His gaze looked from her to Calum, eyebrows raising before looking back at her. “You know you’re not supposed to be out here after hours,” he pointed out, and just the tone of his voice had her biting her tongue. Like he was chastising a child with the teasing way he spoke in. Trying to be endearing but only coming off as. . . Creepy.

“Right, right, sorry. Won’t happen again,” Nura said, her words falling quickly as she stood up. The less she could be around Keith, the better. Nura then glanced down at Calum, who had been watching along silently, and she took note of the look in his dark eyes; observant, curious. Forcing a smile, Nura said, “Come on, Calum. We should go.”

Calum met her gaze and maybe he saw the mild urgency in her eyes, the tightness of her smile, and Nura was relieved he didn’t protest it as he nodded and stood up. He gave a nod to Keith, lips flat before saying, “Sorry ’bout that, man.”

Keith watched them with sharp eyes, and just as Nura turned to go, he said, “McNulty won’t be happy if he knew you were sneaking in guests to the pool.”

Nura paused, eyes squeezing shut in exasperation and annoyance, feeling the heat of Calum’s gaze on her profile as she refrained herself from snapping at Keith. Two things he always made Nura feel: discomfort and annoyance. Opening her eyes, she planted the sweetest smile she could muster, all too aware of Calum’s gaze as she looked over her shoulder at Keith and mused, “But he won’t know, will he? Please, Keith?”

She never felt guilty for using his strange likeness of her against him. Keith returned her smile, nodding as he said, “Only because it’s you.” Gross.

“Thank you, Keith,” Nura responded before offering him a wave and making her away out of the pool area.

Her and Calum walked in silence for a few moments, and Nura dropped the plastic cup in a recycle bin they were passing by, Calum broke their quiet by scoffing. “You must dislike that guy more than me—at least with me, you’re better at faking nice,” Calum said, a lightness coloring his tone to ease the tension Nura felt in her muscles.

It had worked, surprisingly. As they walked in the general direction of the staff suites in the building behind the pool area, Nura chuckled lightly. “Just get bad vibes from him,” she chose to say. Simple, but true. She saw Calum nod from her peripheral, one hand still securely holding his guitar as he hummed once in acknowledgment. Nura licked her lips, feeling the awkwardness creep in. “Your, uh, bungalow’s that way,” she found herself adding, gesturing towards the right.

Calum followed her gesture with his eyes before nodding, brown eyes flickering down to meet hers as they walked. “I know. Thought I’d walk you back just—you know, in case.”

The sentiment wasn’t spoken but it wasn’t lost on Nura, and though Calum quickly broke their gaze when he spoke, jaw clenching as he looked straight ahead, Nura still felt her heart pathetically skip a beat. The act of walking her back, just in case Keith decided to be a creep. . . It was sweet, far more than Nura thought he was capable of. 

Fuck, he’d just played the guitar for her by the pool. She was either delirious from her long shift, or she truly couldn’t make sense of reality.

They reached the door to her suite soon enough, and as Nura pulled out her keys, the corners of her lips tilted up as she offered Calum a smile. A real, genuine one she hadn’t given him before. “Thanks for walking me back,” she said, and although the kind tone she spoke to him in felt foreign, it didn’t feel wrong. As she unlocked the door, she added with a gentle smirk, “And the free show.”

At that, Calum’s lips split into a smirk of his own, cheeks pushed up and utterly boyish as he looked down at her. She didn’t miss the way his top teeth just barely grazed his lower lip before he said, “Next one’s gonna cost ya.”

Raising an eyebrow as she opened the door, Nura shot back, “When did I say I wanted another one?”

A mock expression of hurt crossed Calum’s face, sucking in a breath through O shaped lips before he clicked his tongue. “Alright, ouch. Thought we were good now, Nura.”

She smiled, playful and mischievous as she entered her suite, flicking the light on and turning to face Calum, who stood out in the hall. He had his eyebrows raised, waiting for her response, his short laugh echoing in the hallway when all Nura did was hum back, “Maybe,” before shutting the door to end the strange night.

*****

“Fuck,” Calum breathed out, using the towel to wipe the sweat he could feel running down his back as he and Luke exited the resort gym. His triceps, chest and quads had a delicious soreness in them after the workout he and Luke decided to take part in, water bottle nearly empty from downing it. Next to him, Luke chuckled as Calum added, “That felt good.”

“Much fucking needed,” Luke agreed, using his own towel to dab at his face, letting out a sigh of relief when they stepped out of the building and out into the night. The sun had long since set, the resort fluttering with the sounds of the waves and crickets chirping, and the mildly chilly breeze felt refreshing against their warmed, worn out skin. “Hey, is that Nura?”

Calum looked at Luke, noting his narrowed blue eyes looking off ahead, and Calum followed his gaze until his own landed on the woman in question. His eyebrows raised as he saw her, taking a second to recognize the dark haired woman in something other than the resort uniform he always saw her in. Calum’s footsteps slowed without really meaning to, eyes taking in the black skirt, heels, and bandeau top she wore so damn well as her long dark hair danced lightly in the breeze. Shit.

“Hey, Nura!” Calum blinked at Luke’s sudden call, watching as Nura looked the other way before finding the two men who were approaching her—Calum more reluctantly than his best friend. “You look ready for a night out.”

Nura smiled as she took a few steps towards them as well, fingers playing with the chain of the purse that hung off her shoulder. “I am,” she confirmed and Calum distracted himself by pulling his shorts up higher on his waist and checking the time on his phone. Anything to keep himself from letting his gaze linger too long on the pretty woman in front of him. “A couple of the staff and I are going to this club a few blocks away.”

“Really?” Luke hummed, eyebrows raising and Calum had to only glance at him briefly to know what was coming next, an excited glimmer in his blue eyes. His smirk returned, a dimple popping. “Which one?”

Calum wasn’t surprised when about an hour and a half later, he ended up with his friends at the club Nura had mentioned. It wasn’t how Calum had expected the night to go after his gym session with Luke, but he hadn’t been surprised when his friends had immediately agreed to Luke’s proposal of going out, and as soon as everyone was ready, they were piling into Ubers and heading over.

Calum sat in the middle of the U-shaped couch, the table in front of him holding bottles and glasses that glimmered against the strobing blue and purple lights that flickered with the beat of music. Green laser lights flashed against Calum’s eyes every few minutes, but at this point, he’d become accustomed as he sipped from his Negroni, licking his lips as he lowered the glass and let his gaze wander.

His friends were around him, Luke and Sierra on their feet as they danced in their VIP section, singing along to the music while the rest of them remained seated on the couch. It was busy in the club, unsurprising given that it was a weekend as well as the summer, and still Calum found his gaze searching through the silhouettes of people in the dancing crowd or by the bar, trying to catch sight of the familiar face he knew to be there.

He stood eventually, feeling the mild strain in his muscles as he did so, letting out a soft grunt as he decided that he needed to stretch his legs. And if he happened to see Nura somewhere in the crowd, that wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.

Calum sipped his drink as he moved around, avoiding as many people as he could from rubbing up against him, shoulders shifting and moving along the wall as he went. His leather jacket stuck to his body, the heat of the club and the dozens of bodies around him only contributing to the warmth he felt, but Calum didn’t mind much—especially not when his eyes finally landed on who he was searching for.

He stopped where he stood, catching sight of Nura leaning by the bar and before he knew it, Calum was making his way over. He shouldered his way through, large frame giving him an advantage to move forward. He wasn’t sure why he’d been so adamant on seeing her, but his feet were moving without much thought and before he knew it, he was right by the bar, up to her left.

Nura seemed to be trying to get the bartender’s attention, and Calum licked his lips after taking a sip of his drink, arms folding on the bar. She didn’t notice him yet, an exasperated sigh escaping her when the bartender once again evaded her, and Calum smirked lightly. “We’ve got bottle service if you’re sick of waiting.”

She glanced over at him, eyebrows lifting in realization before she let out a gentle scoff. Nura stood straight, left hand on her hip and the other braced against the bar as she tilted her head up at him. “Then what’re you doing here?” she rebutted.

Calum looked down at her, doing his best to keep his gaze fixated on her glimmering dark eyes—never daring to go lower in fear of focusing too much on her red lips. She looked gorgeous, and although her eyelashes were long and her face was glittering with makeup, Calum knew she looked stunning all of the time. Hair tied back or loose around her shoulders, face full of makeup or completely bare—Calum could easily admit that Nura was the prettiest woman he’d ever seen. Ironic, given how much of a dick he’d been to her.

His people skills had definitely taken a hit lately.

Calum smirked at Nura, shrugging one shoulder as he easily responded, “Rescuing you.”

She scoffed almost incredulously, an amused smile lifting her lips as she locked her gaze with his. “From what?” Nura challenged, narrowing her eyes slightly. “A life without access to the advantages of money? So kind of you, Cal.”

Though her words themselves were sharp, Nura spoke them playfully, a glimmer in her eyes that told him she was just teasing. And while Calum would’ve been insulted before, he merely rolled his eyes at her, pursing his lips before returning, “You gotta be a dick about it?”

Nura grinned, a laugh escaping her as Calum scoffed out a smile as well. She pressed her smiling lips together, glancing over her shoulders and Calum recognized just a few of the faces as some of the staff at the resort, and Nura looked back at him. He saw the hesitant turn her smile took before she gave him a shake of her head. “Thanks for the offer, Calum, but we’re, uh, fine here,” she finally said, a kindness in her tone to show her appreciation for his offer. 

Calum leaned back ever so slightly as he inhaled a small, albeit surprised breath. He hadn’t entirely expected for her to reject the offer, no matter how nicely she’d done it. Calum had become all too used to people jumping on the offer of joining a table he’d bought, too used to being used for the advantages of the size of his bank account. Most people Calum had encountered only ever associated him with what he could do for them, mostly when it came to footing the bill. And while he didn’t at all mind doing it for his closest friends—especially because they never asked him to, always either offered or ended up paying for themselves—Calum had, at one point, become numb in doing it for others. He kind of expected to just do it, because others expected it from him.

Now when he was voluntarily offering to do it for someone else—someone he didn’t really know—the logical rejection had his eyebrows knitting together in confusion and curiosity. “Are you sure?” he found himself asking.

Nura nodded, waving him off. “Yeah, we’ve already got a tab going and, uh, you know—” she paused, gaze taking him in before her brown eyes lifted to meet his. “—staff and guests shouldn’t really fraternize.”

Calum raised an eyebrow, not entirely convinced by her reasoning. “We’re not on resort grounds.”

She let out a short laugh, gaze averting as she gave a shake of her head before looking at him once more. With a pointed raise of her eyebrow and jut of her chin, Nura finished meaningfully, “Go back to your friends, Calum.”

He did, reluctantly and with a frown on his face, because Calum had a feeling that Nura’s guest and staff mingling reasoning was some type of bullshit—and that her real reason had something to do with her previous comment about the advantages of being in the VIP section.

Calum scoffed to himself as he took a sip of his drink and continued back to where his friends were. He was so used to people throwing themselves at him because of his money—fuck, had a whole relationship based off of it. And now, in the face of someone who actually rejected his offer because of it, Calum kind of felt at a loss. 

Though, because it was Nura, he shouldn’t be surprised. That woman wasn’t like anyone else he’d ever met. And although her comments, at first, had pricked his skin the wrong way, his mind had started to change. As he settled back down on the couch next to Kaykay, his thoughts seemed louder than the deafening music and busy hum of the club. Nura was unlike many of the people he’d encountered in his life, and that suddenly wasn’t such a bad thing.

Around forty minutes and two drinks later, Calum was leaving the bathroom, back pressing against the wall as a group of girls giggled past him as the upbeat music of the club was no longer muffled. His face scrunched as he air dried his hands, no paper towels available in the bathroom and the machine was out of service, and just as he turned the corner to enter the main part of the club, Calum came across a sight that had him slowing down, eyebrows knitting together as he watched Nura in conversation with that guy from the pool the other day. Keith, he vaguely remembered.

Except it didn’t seem to look like a conversation Nura was particularly enjoying, Keith’s figure easily looming over her shorter stature as she frowned up at him, shaking her head as she talked animatedly. The other night, Calum hadn’t been blind to the quick escape Nura had made from Keith at the pool, remembered how she had said she got “bad vibes” from the guy, and it only had an alarm bell ringing through Calum’s head when his sharp eyes caught Keith’s hand reach out to grab Nura’s, who instinctively pulled hers away.

She had said earlier she didn’t need rescuing, but Calum couldn’t, in good conscience, walk away knowing Nura wasn’t comfortable with the guy.

“Hey, Nura,” Calum smoothly stepped up to her left, catching the way she instantly looked up at him with raised eyebrows, the surprise evident in her features. She expertly wiped it off as Calum’s dark eyes met hers, an easy smile on his face as he jutted a thumb over his shoulder. “Everyone’s lookin’ for you at the table.”

Nura’s red lips parted in realization, eyes shining with relief before she smiled and nodded. “Yeah, sorry—I was just coming to you guys,” she answered. Then, looking back at Keith, who was watching them with a frown and an irritated look Calum didn’t care for much, Nura told him, “Like I said, Keith, I’m here with friends and I’m not really in the mood to leave yet.”

Calum’s jaw tightened at her words, fighting to keep the easy smile on his face though he felt his fingers curling into the palm of his hand as he realized Keith’s intentions. He stood still, feet planted in place and giving no dancing body around him the power to push into him. He wouldn’t move until Nura was going with him.

Keith looked between the two of them, failing to ease the smile he wore as he asked Nura, “Are you sure? We could—”

“I’m good, Keith,” Nura cut him off pointedly, and Calum’s lips twitched into an annoyed curl at Keith’s insistence. She was already turning away as she added, “I’ll see you later.”

Calum’s brown eyes lifted to meet Keith’s green, unapologetic about the warning glare that crossed his features as Keith’s lips thinned. Nura’s hand then grabbed Calum’s leather clad arm and was pulling him away, releasing him once they were somewhat engulfed in the crowd and over the music, she shouted to Calum, “Thanks for that.”

“No problem,” Calum responded, feeling the tension in his muscles ease now that they were away from Keith. This time, Calum grasped her arm, his touch light on her warm skin, ducking his head slightly as Nura looked up at him. “But, seriously, Nura—you and your friends should join us.”

Her lips parted, ready to object. “But—”

Rolling his eyes, Calum cut her off with a wave of his free hand. “Look, I know you don’t want to take advantage of my money after shitting on it so much, but I insist.”

He watched the way her jaw slackened in amused incredulity, staring up at him as a short bout of laughter escaped her and he grinned, knowing he’d caught her off guard. Nura grinned and Calum desperately tried to keep his gaze away from the way her tongue trailed across her lower lip, raising his eyebrows expectantly as she considered his offer with an averted gaze.

Finally, she let out a groan, rolling her eyes to the ceiling as she gave in, “Alright, fine, fine.”

Calum grinned triumphantly, unable to stop himself from draping his arm around Nura’s shoulders to guide her towards their table as she pulled out her phone to let her friends know where to go. 

At one point of the night, when Nura was two margaritas in and was sitting in one corner of the couch, she felt someone sit down to her left and glanced to see Luke settling in, head leaning back and long legs spread. She feared someone would trip on them, given that almost everyone was on their feet, drinking and dancing.

With an amused chuckle escaping her, Nura asked him, “You good?”

“I’m great,” Luke answered with a chuckle, dimples shadowing his features, splashed in the purple and blue lights of the club. Sitting up properly, he offered her a smile. “Thanks for showing us this place—it’s awesome.”

“Yeah, no problem,” Nura laughed lightly, glancing forward to see Ashton pour Elaine and Willa another drink. “Thanks for my showing my friends and I how the VIPs roll,” she added with a teasing grin, earning a laugh from Luke in return.

“Your first time?” he questioned and when Nura nodded, Luke laced his fingers together, sitting forward with his arms resting on his thighs. “Yeah, I remember mine—it was ’cause of Cal, actually. He knew I wanted to go to a Laker’s game for my eighteenth birthday and couldn’t afford to go and he knew, like, I was incapable of accepting a court side ticket, even if it was for my birthday. He ended up getting tickets for all of us just so I had a great birthday.” Luke scoffed with a smile, shaking his head as he leaned back. “He’s a good friend, no doubt about it.”

Nura listened to him intently, unable to help the way her eyebrows raised slightly at Luke’s story. Court side tickets to an NBA game weren’t cheap and although Nura knew Calum had money, the fact that he would get several tickets for all of his friends just so Luke could have a good birthday had her heart warming. She sipped her drink after a soft “wow,” escaped her, chewing on the straw as she acknowledged the small bit of guilt she felt pool in the pit of her stomach for calling Calum out about his money. She didn’t entirely regret it, given how their first few interactions had went, but Luke’s story only confirmed a thought that had been brewing in Nura’s mind: Crystal had been right, that night in the bathroom. Calum was proving himself to be not as bad as Nura had originally thought, especially when he pulled her away from Keith and had her and her friends join him and his friends.

She had always prided herself in reading people with the job she had; maybe, just this once, she was just a little bit wrong.

*****

Her room smelled like Chinese food and rain, and Nura loved every bit of it. Having woken up a couple of hours ago, she showered off last night’s booze stench and as she put on  her lounge shorts—pajamas on top for the few minutes she took to pray—

and an oversized Queen shirt, she ordered Chinese food enough to feed a family of four. It was her day off—which was one of the few reasons why she had decided to go out last night—and she fully intended on sitting in her bed with her food with Brooklyn Nine-Nine playing on the TV right across.

Until a knock sounded on her door.

She sighed exasperatedly, her food already spread out on a tray on the bed, and got off the bed, blinking in surprise when she opened it and there stood Calum. “What’re you doing here?” Nura asked, eyebrows raised before they knitted together. “Did you walk in the rain?”

Calum, with his hands buried in the pockets of the black rain jacket he wore, responded with a dry smile as he responded sarcastically, “Oh, good afternoon to you, too, Nura. I’m doing great, thanks for asking.”

She pressed her lips together briefly, expression deadpanning before she stepped to the side and let him in. It wasn’t like it was down pouring outside—which was why she didn’t feel bad about ordering takeout—but the drizzling still had Calum’s dark hair wet, as well as his jacket. “Good afternoon, Calum,” Nura stated, a sweet smile gracing her lips that had Calum scoffing as she gestured for him to take off his jacket. “What’re you doing here?”

What could possibly have made him cross half of the resort to get to her room? Especially in the rain? She raised her eyebrow at him as she hung his jacket on the row of hooks behind the door, facing him with her arms crossing over her chest.

Was she imagining the sheepish expression that softened his features, hand raising to run through the short strands of his wet, dark hair as he let out a chuckle. “I just, uh,” Calum paused, clearing his throat before settling for a small, boyish smile. “Wanted to check in on you, after last night. How’s the hangover treating you?”

Nura felt her lips part ever so slightly at his words, expression relaxing into a subtle surprise at the thoughtfulness he was displaying. All of them had gotten pretty drunk last night, a time well spent, and she remembered Calum, Michael, and Crystal walking her back to her room before they went to theirs. She also remembered throwing up last night—fortunately she’d made it to the toilet—and had brushed her teeth thoroughly before taking a shower and deciding to order her favorite hangover food.

Calum didn’t have to come to check on her, especially when it was raining, but it was an unexpected gesture she felt warming her heart as a smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “I’m actually about to dig into some hangover food,” Nura laughed lightly, gesturing to the bed where the Chinese spread was laid out. She pulled her lower lip into her mouth, considering her next words carefully. Technically, Calum shouldn’t even be in her room. Nura was well aware of that. She was also well aware of how she didn’t want to kick him out. So she smiled up at him and asked, “Care to join?”

Calum’s eyebrows shot up, gaze flickering to the bed before resting on her once more, unsurely. “Are you sure? I didn’t mean to, like, show up and—”

She cut him off with a roll of her eyes, turning to go back to her bed and giving him no chance but to follow. He joined her as he sat next to her at the head of the bed, back against the headboard and Nura leaned down to open the mini fridge by the wall. “Water or Coke?” she asked him as she felt the mattress shift under her while he settled.

“Water, thanks,” Calum responded, taking the bottle from her before chuckling at the spread. Raising an eyebrow at her, he asked, “Do you always order this much food?”

“When I’m hungover? Hell yeah,” Nura chuckled, quickly pressing play on the TV before picking up the container of white rice and putting some on her paper plate.

They settled into a comfortable silence as they helped themselves to the food and watched the show play on TV, and as she leaned back against her pillows, legs crossed and plate in her hand, Nura couldn’t help but think how strangely this situation had progressed. She didn’t make a habit of having resort guests in her suite—in fact, it never happened. She kept her distance, especially since many of the ones she encountered were people Nura was fine with never seeing again. It wasn’t lost on her how Calum had been one of those type of guests when he first arrived.

But something had changed that night at the pool, where they’d been able to be civil to one another for more than a few seconds after Calum had apologized for the things he had said and the way he had acted. No longer was he another guest with some kind of superiority complex the amount of money he had gave him, nor was he the asshole who tried to get under Nura’s skin on purpose. Things had shifted between them without Nura truly being able to comprehend the moment it happened, but now that it had, she couldn’t complain. Hanging out with guests on company property wasn’t allowed, and Nura wasn’t a risk taker, and yet. . . She didn’t want to kick him out of the room. Especially when he made the little noises that came with the opening theme of Brooklyn Nine-Nine.

It felt easy, sitting in her room, eating Chinese and watching one of her favorite shows. Calum had taken off his shoes, legs crossed as he ate the shrimp lo-mein, a comfortable silence between them only broken by the TV and the gentle rainfall that had surprised them. Nura didn’t care that she probably looked like a bum, too comfortable in her clothes and her hair falling messily around her shoulders, even though the guy next to her looked unsurprisingly good even if he was in only a pair of athletic shorts and a shirt. She was definitely not checking out the way the muscles of his tattooed arm flexed whenever he reached for his water bottle.

Nura quickly focused on her attention on the show, watching the episode play out. And in her purposefully sought out distraction, she’d momentarily forgotten who she was sitting next to, and after swallowing a bite of her food absently murmured out, “I would totally hook up with young Scully.”

Calum’s short, incredulous laugh pulled her into reality, and Nura’s face flushed in realization as she shoved another forkful of rice and orange chicken into her mouth. She was surprised, then, when Calum hummed thoughtfully before saying, “Really? I’d go for young Hitchcock. He’s got nice hair.”

Nura blinked before looking at Calum, face scrunched up in skeptical confusion. “You’d go for him because he’s got nice hair?” she repeated dubiously, scoffing with a shake of her head despite Calum’s defensive slackened jaw. “That’s not a reason to get with someone!”

His lips parted, incoherent protesting exclaims escaping him before he gestured to the TV with a challenging furrow of his brows. “Why do you wanna get with Scully?”

“Because!” Nura started, earning an expectant raise of eyebrows from Calum as he gestured with a shake of his head for her to continue, and Nura rolled her smiling lips into her mouth as the laugh threatened to escape. She pushed herself further into her headboard before admitting, “He’s got a nice jawline. And he’s taller than Hitchcock.”

Calum’s expression fell flat, before his dark eyes narrowed almost comedically and he rebuked, “So basically my reason isn’t as superficial as yours?”

Her cheeks heated up before she waved him off, looking towards the TV once more and saying, “Shut up, watch the show,” which only earned a laugh from him.

They continued watching in silence, the food slowly lessening as they kept eating. By the time the next episode started, Nura was full and Calum was asking her, “Did you read all of these?” She glanced over, catching him looking at the five novels piled on the bedside table, picking up the top one. It was her favorite book, Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe. Nura hummed in confirmation and as Calum opened the book and flipped through the pages, let out a soft, incredulous breath. “Shit—not a page left unmarked, huh?”

She laughed after taking a sip of her Coke. “That’s my favorite book—have you read it?” When Calum gave a shake of his head, eyes still taking in her writing in the margins and the highlights, Nura continued, “You should. It’s beautiful. And the marks are just how I read.” She chuckled lightly. “The dream’s to work in the editing field of a publishing firm. Reading new stories all day from all kinds of people is, like, the perfect way to spend my time.”

Calum looked at her upon hearing her words, eyebrows raising in surprise and what Nura thought was a hint of admiring as his lips curled into a smile. He nodded, smile soft and warm that sent a flutter ripple through Nura’s stomach. “That’s pretty cool, Nura,” he said. 

“Thanks,” she returned, unable to keep the smile off her face. Whether it was because of Calum or the topic at hand, she couldn’t be sure. For her own sanity, she chalked it up to the latter. “I worked as an editorial intern the past two years during the school year, so that really helped with my resume. I’m hoping to hear back from a couple of places I applied to soon. With any luck, this’ll be my last summer working here.”

“I’m sure you’ll get loads of acceptances,” Calum nodded, voice holding a kind of sincerity she hadn’t heard before as he put the book back down.

Nura twisted her lips to the side briefly before offering, “Do you wanna borrow the book? I mean, if you’ve got free time to read since you’re, like, here for a while.”

Calum glanced at the copy before raising an eyebrow at her. “Are you sure?”

She nodded, a bit too quickly, before smiling. “Yeah, totally. Just don’t drop it in the ocean.”

He scoffed out a laugh, grin showing off those crinkles by his eyes Nura found too adorable. “Yeah, thanks,” he agreed before pushing up from the bed, raising an eyebrow at her. “Can I use your bathroom?”

Nura hummed, gesturing to the door off on the left that Calum soon disappeared behind. She leaned back against the headboard once more with a happy sigh, no longer trying to make sense of this situation as she watched the show play in front of her. Though, that only lasted for a few moments as knocking on the front door interrupted her. She paused the TV before heading over, jaw instantly tightening as she mentally chastised herself for opening the door.

“How can I help you, Keith?” Nura asked, hoping she kept the heavy disdain out of her voice as much as possible. She hadn’t forgotten last night when he had tried to get her to leave the club with him, only ceasing his insistence when Calum had swept in to pull her away. That rescue, she was appreciative of.

“Hi, Nura,” he returned with that smile of his that never settled well with her. His hands were clasped behind his back as he looked down at her. Unlike Calum, he looked like a wet dog because of the rain. “Something about last night has been bothering me.” She quirked an eyebrow; was he going to apologize for being so pushy? “That guy you were talking to last night—isn’t he a guest here?”

Nura stared up at him, bewildered and taken aback at his question. That’s what was bothering him? Her grip on the door handle tightened, shoulders squaring and chin lifting as she narrowed her eyes ever so slightly. “Yes,” she answered, albeit slightly hesitantly. Her stomach twisted, not liking where this was going. 

Keith hummed with his lips pressed together, eyebrows raising, and expression reading one of I hate to do this to you, but. . . “You know employees aren’t allowed to mingle with guests like that, Nura.”

Was he fucking serious? Nura didn’t think it was possible for him to get more annoying, and yet he was proving her wrong. She fought from letting her aggravation show on her features, keeping them as neutral as possible as she calmly responded, “Yeah, but we weren’t on company property, Keith.” She saw the corner of his lips twitch in annoyance. She knew she was right, and his desire to seek her out and try to make some power move over her only fueled her dislike of him. “And it’s not like I was the only one there. Have you talked to the other employees I was with? Or am I the only one on your agenda?”

Keith scoffed through his nose, looking down at her with a miffed curl of his lips. “I was getting to them,” he said, voice slightly strained, and Nura wanted to laugh. Bullshit. He was only ever going to try and hold it over her head. “If you’re seen entertaining the guests in more than a professional capacity, I’m afraid I’ll have to report you to McNulty.”

Nura’s jaw slackened at his words, staring up at him in disbelief with an angry knot tightening in her stomach. Her grip on the door handle tightened, the metal digging into her palm as she pressed her teeth together and exhaled through her nose. He was threatening her. The son of a bitch was actually threatening her because she was, what, becoming friends with some of the guests? As opposed to normally wanting to be as far away from them as possible and cursing them out behind their back?

She was too speechless to say anything in return, to tell him to shut the fuck up or mind his own damn business, and Keith merely smiled at her and said, “Have a good one, Nura.”

She stared at the space where he stood for a brief moment until her thoughts kicked in and Nura slammed the door shut with an aggravated grunt. “What the fuck,” she muttered through strained teeth, fingers running through her hair as she stepped away from the door.

“Shit—was that because of me?”

Nura’s breath caught in her throat, momentarily forgetting of the man that had been in her bathroom until she caught sight of Calum, leaning against the wall on his left shoulder and a frown on his face. Nura licked her lips, hands clasped behind her back as she leaned against the wall opposite of him. She saw the downturn of his lips, looking bothered by the conversation he had just overheard.

“No,” Nura answered with a sigh, giving a shake of her head. She saw the guilt that caused him to chew his lower lip and she found herself wanting to get rid of it. “That was just Keith. . . Being a piece of shit.”

“Are you sure?” Calum asked, frown deepening. He crossed his arms and Nura’s gaze flickered briefly at the way his biceps became more apparent, the tattoos only making her throat dry. “He sounded pretty—”

“Petty? Bitter?” Nura supplied with a scoff. She rolled her eyes, looking off towards the window. The awning above her window prevented the rain from getting into the room, working with the screen on the window itself. The sound of rain only served to calm her now irritated nerves. “I’m not gonna stop being friends with you just because he’s unjustifiably jealous.”

Calum raised his eyebrows at her and Nura saw the ghost of a smirk curl at his lips. With a subtle tilt of his head, he asked teasingly, “We’re friends now?”

Nura felt her cheeks heat up, smile turning shy and embarrassed as she pressed her palms against the wall behind her. Friends may be pushing it, but Nura believed that they were getting there. She definitely didn’t find him as rude and terrible as she had before, the change more or less slapping her in the face. But whatever they were now, it was far from annoying guest and disgruntled employee. His gaze felt heavy, playful, and Nura melted under it. Feigning confidence with a life of her chin, she shot back, “I took full advantage of your bottle service last night; yes, we’re friends.”

Calum laughed at that, grin wide and real and showing off those crinkles and annoyingly perfect white teeth. His laugh held a rasp that sent a shiver down her spine as he ducked his head, nodding along in agreement. When his head lifted, brown eyes meeting her own, Nura felt a calmness in her chest, a flutter in her stomach especially when he confirmed, “Right. We’re friends.”

*****

Nura had seen a ghost. Or, at least, that’s what she looked like.

Calum watched her from where he sat at the table with Kaykay and Ashton, eyebrows knitting together behind his sunglasses as he watched her listen to whoever was on the other end of the phone call she’d taken. He saw it in the way her lips parted, shoulders rising and falling with the quick breaths she’d began taking and how she had reached behind her to grip the guard railing around the outdoor section of the restaurant. Her ponytail danced in the wind but it didn’t do anything to hide the alarmed expression painted across her face.

It wasn’t his business, he knew it wasn’t, but the way she pocketed her phone and ran a hand down her chin, looking around with a panicked gaze before her quick feet took her to the inside the restaurant had a worried knot forming in Calum’s stomach. Before he knew it, he was pushing back his chair and was on his feet, barely hearing Ashton’s, “Where’re you going?”

Calum only granted him and Kaykay with an absent, “Be right back,” already halfway into the restaurant.

He folded his sunglasses on the neckline of his shirt and looked around, not even acknowledging the other guests on different tables as his eyes searched for Nura. He found her talking to the guy he recognized as the manager, who put a hand on her shoulder and nodded at her, a look of reassurance on her face. Nura was quick to nod, hands reaching behind her to untie the knot of her apron as she handed it to him and began making her way towards the exit.

Calum moved quickly, following her as his eyebrows drew together, his longer legs allowing him to get in front of her with a hasty, “Nura, hey—are you okay?”

Nura stopped short, her gaze lifting to meet his, and up close Calum saw the panic and mild fear swirling in her dark irises that only had his worried frown deepening. Her eyebrows drew together, the distress clear in her features as she let out a sharp breath. “Yeah, I just—” Her throat worked, licking her lips as she glanced away briefly. “My mom’s sick—she has, uh, a bad case of the stomach flu and I’m just really worried, y’know? It’s just her and my brother back home and I, uh, I need to go see her.”

Calum pressed his lips together, feeling a weight settle on his chest as he took in her hoarse voice, thick with concern. She looked out of it, which Calum understood as he asked, “You’re gonna drive back?”

“No, I’m gonna fucking take a magic carpet, Calum.” He clamped his mouth shut, her words as sharp as her voice and, again, he understood. He kept his gaze on her, eyes soft and features worried, and Nura squeezed her eyes shut as she brought her hands up and covered her face, a soft groan muffled in her palms. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry—shit.” She dropped her hands, sad eyes meeting his. “Yeah, I’m driving, why?”

Despite her snapping at him, Calum hadn’t really carefully considered the next few words that tumbled out of his mouth, rushing them out in an uncharacteristic ramble, “Let me drive you—I mean, it’s none of my business but I just—I don’t want you on the road by yourself when you’re so worried about your mom, y’know? I can take you. Let me help.”

It sounded so stupid once the words were out of his mouth, and although Calum’s intentions were purely just for the purpose of wanting to be there for Nura, he understood how they could be misinterpreted. But, shit, seeing her so worried, so frazzled, had his heart leaping out of his chest and he wanted to be able to do something. This had nothing to do with him, but he wanted to help, wanted to be there for her.

Nura gaped up at him, completely taken aback by his offer, eyes holding nothing but disbelief. Half of him expected her to tell him to fuck off, so he was pleasantly surprised when all she did was stammer out a bewildered, “I—no, Calum. You don’t have to. Y-You’re on vacation. Why would you even—”

“Because, uh, you gave me a really good book to read.” He said it with a soft smile, a real smile, and at this point he was willing to give her any reason or excuse in the book if it meant she would accept his help. He still had so much time left on his vacation, what was a little time away from the resort if it meant making sure Nura and her family were okay?

They’d become friends over the past two weeks, and Calum had a bit of a habit of going above and beyond for his friends.

Nura scoffed slightly, lips just barely curling up in a smile she couldn’t afford right now. He didn’t want her to smile if she couldn’t. Not when her mom was sick. “It’d be a three day thing, Calum. I’ll be running around doing errands for my mom and—”

“And I’ll help you with them,” Calum cut in, his words earning a skeptical eyebrow raise from Nura. His shoulders dropped, thinning his lips at her as he told her dryly, “I can help you.”

“You’ll help me or pay someone to help?” Nura retorted and Calum was glad even in a tense, worrisome moment such as this, she still found it in herself to joke around. Even if it was at his expense. At this point, her poking fun at him for his financial status was something he truly found amusing. It was way better than her taking advantage of it.

“I’ll help you,” he said with a roll of his eyes. When Nura rolled her lips into her mouth, seemingly considering his words, Calum dropped his chin and raised his eyebrows at her, silently encouraging her to say yes. “Let me come with you.”

Her dark eyes met his, looking as if she was searching for something in his gaze. Whatever she found, she must have liked because she finally dropped her shoulders and sighed with a nod. “Okay.”

The two and a half hour drive to Homestead was filled with Nura’s playlist playing in the car, a variety of songs Calum approved of as he lowly sang along to them. Nura didn’t talk much in the car, opting to stare out the window and chew on her unpainted nails, only speaking up when she told him a faster, easier route than what the GPS dictated. Calum didn’t mind her silence, though he hoped she wasn’t letting the worry consume her, knowing there was no real way he could stop it from happening.

His friends had been surprised in his new plan, but none of them tried to talk him out of it. Not like Calum expected them to; they’d all come to really like Nura and thought it was sweet of Calum to help her out in whatever way he could. Nura had just looked too overwhelmed, too scared for Calum to let her go on her own. 

When they finally pulled into the driveway of a one story house in a cul-de-sac, Nura broke the silence as she turned off the music in the car. As they unbuckled their seatbelts, Calum felt her gaze on him before she commented, “You’ve got a nice voice.” He looked at her and she smiled. “I didn’t know you could sing.”

“It’s just—” Calum stammered and he felt something heat up his cheeks. Since when did he fall over his words? “Just in the car and the shower.”

Nura’s smile was sweet, words sweeter, “You’re really good.”

She got out of the car then, and Calum let out a slow exhale as he followed her actions, glancing up at the bright blue sky and wondering when his heart learned to skip a beat or two. They grabbed their duffels out of the car and Calum followed her up to the front door after handing her the keys, which she then used to unlock the door and step inside. 

Just as the door opened, Calum heard a woman’s voice from inside call out, “Nura, is that you?”

“Yeah, Mama,” Nura called back and as Calum shut the door, she toed off her shoes by the corner and he followed her lead, placing his Docs properly with the other sandals and sneakers already there. He then looked over to the living room to the immediate right, caught sight of a woman who had apparently been lying down on the couch sit up as Nura dropped her bag on the floor and walked over, “Asalamalaikum.”

Nura’s mother stood up, dressed in a printed tunic and leggings as she smiled and returned, “Walaikumasalam,” before putting her arms out so Nura could walk into her mother’s hug. He saw Mrs. Ansari close her eyes as she hugged Nura, a smile on her tired face as she said something in a foreign language.

“I’m good,” Nura answered her before pulling away, which was when Mrs. Ansari’s eyes landed on Calum, who was lingering in the entrance a bit too awkwardly. He felt out of place, the strap of his duffel feeling heavy on his shoulder as he offered a small smile. At her mother’s questioning look, Nura said, “Oh, Mama, this is Calum. He drove me here.”

Mrs. Ansari blinked in confusion as she looked at Nura. “Why didn’t you drive yourself?”

Nura scoffed. “Because I was basically in a catatonic state after finding out you were sick. Calum offered to come with me.”

Mrs. Ansari shot her daughter a flat look at the first part of her statement, but then her lips lifted into a kind smile as she looked at Calum. “It’s nice to meet you Calum. Thank you for accompanying Nura.”

He felt some of the awkward tension in his muscles ease as he returned her smile, chuckling lightly. “Nice to meet you too, Mrs. Ansari. And, really, it was no problem.” His eyes met Nura’s as he added. “It was the right thing to do.”

Mrs. Ansari’s smile widened before stepping back and gesturing to the couch. “Please, come sit,” she said to him before settling on the smaller couch by the window. 

Calum walked further into the living room, taking note of the pictures on the wall. Many of them of Nura, especially when she was younger, with a boy who he figured was her brother and lots of family photos of them with their parents. But Nura hadn’t mentioned her father, and if he was still in the pictures put up on the wall, Calum could only correctly imagine where he was.

“So, Mama,” Nura said, settling on the three seater couch that Calum sat on the other end of, putting his bag down as Nura focused on her mother. “Kya hua? Bilal said you’ve been sick for a few days? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to worry you, beta,” Mrs. Ansari said with a click of her tongue, as if she hadn’t wanted Nura’s brother telling her. “The doctor prescribed me antibiotics and I’m getting a lot of rest. I’m not contagious anymore, which is good, Alhamdulillah, but I’ve just been feeling a lot of weakness.”

Calum noted the worry on Nura’s features, in the furrow of her eyebrows as she looked at her mom. “Is it getting any better with the medicine?”

“Yes,” Mrs. Ansari nodded, shifting so she had brought her legs up on the couch, back resting against the arm rest as she faced Nura and Calum. “Really, baby, I should be fine in a few days. You didn’t have to come.”

“I was worried,” Nura told her. “I’m staying for the weekend, okay?” When Mrs. Ansari opened her mouth to protest, Nura shook her head. “No, Mama. I already told them I’d be here and I have lots of personal days so it’s fine. Deal with it.”

Calum felt his lips curl up slightly in amusement as Mrs. Ansari let out a sigh with a roll of her eyes. Clearly she wasn’t the type who particularly liked being fussed over. “Acha, fine.” Then she glanced at Calum before looking back at her daughter and gesturing to the kitchen. “Oh, go get him some water or something. Don’t just sit there.”

Nura’s face scrunched up, looking over at Calum who had rolled his lips into his mouth. Nura scoffed, telling her mom, “He can get it himself.”

He suppressed the chuckle. He should’ve seen that one coming—why should she have to serve him in her own home when she already did so at the resort? Except Mrs. Ansari didn’t see it that way, clicking her tongue as she warned, “Nura.”

Rolling her eyes with a huff, Nura stood up reluctantly. “Fine,” she grumbled, shooting Calum a sharp look as she walked past him, only to stop before facing her mom again. “If you’re not contagious anymore, I’ll sleep with you so Calum can have my bed.” Mrs. Ansari nodded and Nura shifted her gaze to him, raising an eyebrow. “Hope you’re okay with downgrading to a full sized bed.”

Calum scowled after her, shaking his head at her dig before looking back at Mrs. Ansari, letting himself smile at the woman watching him. She then sat up, voice coating with curiosity as she spoke up. “Nura said you were friends—do you work at the resort, too?”

Calum’s lips parted, half feeling the need to give into the lie. But he quickly talked himself out of that useless point, fingers laced together as he let out an almost sheepish chuckle. “Oh, no. I’m, uh, actually staying there with a few of my friends. I met Nura on my first day there.”

“Oh,” Mrs. Ansari sounded, eyebrows raising in intrigue. She tilted her head before asking, “And you left to accompany Nura?” Calum’s throat worked, not entirely sure if she approved of his actions or not. He wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t. No doubt it was strange that her daughter arrived to help out with a man she hadn’t seen before. It probably looked fucking weird, but Calum didn’t regret it. So he nodded quietly, felt something ease in him when Mrs. Ansari smiled and said sincerely, “Thank you.”

He returned her grin just as Nura reappeared, a tall glass of water in her hand that she begrudgingly offered him. His smile only widened, finding the pout puckering her lips really fucking adorable. With a tick of her head, she said, “I’ll show you to your room for the weekend.”

Just a few moments later, Calum was stepping inside Nura’s bedroom, utterly neat and minimalistic in every aspect. The bed was perfectly made, bright green plants in one corner of the room, a study desk opposite of the bed and a bookshelf filled to the brim with books—which was not at all surprising to him. To the left of the door they’d walked through was a dressing table, only a few makeup and belongings on top as Calum remembered most of them being in Nura’s suite back at the resort. The walls were a pastel mauve color, so light he had to squint to see it, and the floor free of carpet, the wood sleek under his sock clad feet. There was a picture frame on the single bedside table next to the lamp and alarm clock, a photo of a younger Nura with a man he recognized from the other pictures in the living room. Her dad, Calum could tell. Same eyes, same nose.

As he carefully put his duffel down on the floor next to the bed, Calum turned to see Nura leaning against the wall by the door, eyes on him. She was watching him intently, a small smile teasing the corner of her lips, and Calum raised his eyebrows under her gaze. Did he look out of place? He kind of felt like it, but the room smelled of vanilla and shea butter, a scent he had come to recognize Nura by, and he didn’t want to admit how easy it would be to fall asleep engulfed in it.

“What?” Calum finally asked with a low chuckle, wondering what was running through her mind.

Nura grinned, teeth biting into her lower lip as she glanced out the door. She then looked at him, the sun seeping through the window washing her brown skin in a pretty glow as she quietly, conspiringly, said, “I’ve never had a boy in this room before.”

Calum’s eyebrows shot up at that, feeling his smile return. Not what he had been expecting, but the way she had admitted it was tugging at his heart. From what Calum knew, Nura was Muslim, and although there were certain parts of the religion she did and didn’t practice—as far as he knew from what she had told him—he wasn’t surprise over the lack of boys that entered this room. He felt like a fucking thirteen year old boy at the mild case of excitement twisting his stomach as he asked, “Really?”

“Mhm,” Nura nodded with a gentle laugh. “I mean, my mom’s not so conservative, but my dad was. So, y’know, no boys ever stepped foot into the room when he was around. But, like, he passed when I was fifteen and after that, I still didn’t wanna bring boys in here. So, yeah,” Nura chuckled a bit nervously. “You’re the first.”

Calum felt his smile soften, briefly biting the inside of his cheek as Nura’s eyes met his. They gleamed against the sunlight, a sight he wouldn’t ever get tired of. “Well, I’m honored.” Nura laughed lightly, watching as Calum looked around her room some more, his grin returning as he gestured towards the bookshelf with an amused, “That doesn’t surprise me.” She rolled her eyes, unashamed of her overflowing shelf and Calum sat down on the edge of the bed, fingers linking together in the space between his legs. “Reminds me of my room; I’ve got this, like, big shelf filled with old vinyls and albums and stuff.”

Nura raised her eyebrows, teasing smile upturning her lips. “Really? You’re into music?” She blew air through her lips. “I had no idea.” He shot her a look at her sarcastic tone, earning a laugh from Nura. “Is it just a hobby? Your collection of music?”

He took a breath, hands bracing behind him on the mattress as he leaned back a bit. Her question was simple, innocent enough, yet it had Calum pausing to consider the thoughts running through his head. Music was the only thing that kept Calum sane; it was the only thing, other than his friends’ support, that kept him together when all of the bullshit with Dawn had happened. Playing his guitar was a hobby, but he found relief in collecting vinyls and records and listening to music. The way Nura lost herself in the books she read, it was the same for Calum when all of his focus went into the lyrics being sung and chords being played. He wanted to make a life out of his love for music, whether it be collecting his favorite records or selling them—hell, he knew how to play a few instruments, he wouldn’t mind teaching others how to play, either.

“I don’t know,” he finally answered Nura, catching the silent inquiring look that crossed her face. “I guess. . .” He trailed off with a thoughtful furrow of his eyebrows, head tilting back as he gazed up at the ceiling. “It wouldn’t be so bad, making some kind of career out of it. Maybe then I’ll have an appreciation for hard work.”

His last statement was spoken with a knowing smirk shot at Nura, who scoffed out a laugh as she remembered those words all too clearly—she’d snapped them at him that night at the restaurant. Her laugh had Calum grinning, and Nura ran her fingers through her hair as she shrugged. “If you’ve got the means to do it, I’d say that’s a wise way to spend your money,” she told him, the encouraging tone not lost on him.

Calum smiled. It felt. . . Good that someone other than his best friends thought his idea was one worth pursuing. He doubted his parents would care much what he did, too busy with their own business and too invested to let go of it any time soon. Something loosened in Calum’s chest at Nura’s smile, tone appreciative as he simply said, “Noted.”

*****

“I thought Billy liked barbecue chips—these are salt and vinegar.”

“Yeah, those are for me—hey, put them back in the cart!”

“Nura, we’re supposed to be shopping for your mom and Billy, not you!”

“A girl has her needs, damn it, Calum.”

He pursed his lips with a shake of his head, shooting Nura a look as she huffed and continued to push the cart along. The two of them continued down the aisles of Wal-Mart, finally heading towards the check-out with their stuffed cart. Nura may have gone a bit overboard, but it was their last day in Homestead and she wanted to make sure the fridge, freezer, and pantry were fully stocked before they left.

The past three days had been nothing short of interesting. It was a strange dynamic, having Calum around, and Nura was surprised how well he got along with her mom and Billy—which was kind of understandable, given that he hadn’t acted like a dick to them right off the bat as he did with her. But that was in the past.

In fact, Calum had been a huge help around the house, despite Nura’s constant teasing that he took in stride—and knew he deserved it, especially when he nearly sucked up one of Billy’s DS cartridges in the vacuum. Other than that near mishap, he helped her around the house, surprising Nura with his efficiency in the kitchen, got along really well with Billy and played video games with her seventeen year old brother, and had been quick with a small garbage can when Mrs. Ansari vomiting acted up and she couldn’t make it to the bathroom on time.

He hadn’t even been disgusted, and if Nura ever had any doubt about the kind of man Calum was, it was gone.

If anything, she could feel her heart pick up its pace every time he looked at her, felt the butterflies tickle her stomach whenever he smiled. She was falling, and it was probably a bad idea, but she didn’t care. 

“We’ve got everything?” Calum checked as they got to the self-checkout, eyeing the cart with a small smirk.

Nura snorted. “For the house and even some road trip snacks, yes.”

The two of them worked together as Nura scanned the items and Calum bagged them before putting them back int he cart, and not for the first time this weekend she found herself thinking how good of a team they made. Who knew the pretty rich boy was good at mundane things he could pay people to do?

When the last of the items were scanned and bagged, Nura reached into her purse to grab her wallet, eyebrows knitting together when she didn’t find it. “Huh?” she sounded, confused, as she opened it and dug through, groaning when she realized she didn’t have it. She didn’t even think about how she’d driven to Wal-Mart without her license on her, but was more pressed about the fact that now there was no way to pay for her groceries. Shit.

“What’s wrong?” Calum asked, eyebrows knitting together.

Nura’s shoulders fell, turning to look at him with disdain on her features with a little bit of self-loathing. “I think I forgot my wallet at home.”

Calum blinked. “Oh.” Then he stepped towards her and Nura watched as he pulled his wallet out of his jeans pocket and slid out a credit card. “We can just use mine.”

Nura’s eyes widened, grabbing his bicep as she stopped him. “Wait, no—I can’t let you pay for two hundred dollars’ worth of groceries, Calum.”

He looked down at her, a furrow in his eyebrows as if he didn’t understand the problem. It was stupidly endearing. “Yes, you can.” Then with a chuckle, he added, “Not like you have much of a choice, Nura. It’s okay.”

Her stomach twisted, eyebrows knitting deeply as she barely sounded a protesting, “But—” when Calum inserted his credit card. She took a breath before chewing on her lips, not entirely feeling right about this. Logically, Nura knew he had the money, knew that two hundred dollars wasn’t much to him, but that wasn’t the point. Taking care of her family was something Nura had become accustomed to; she and her mom did it together, even Billy chipped in with the summer jobs he’d get. It had always been the three of them, and while she definitely appreciated Calum’s kindness, it just felt strange accepting it. She didn’t want to owe him anything, and didn’t want him thinking she wanted him to pay for something for her family. It wasn’t his job.

When he pulled his card out and signed his name on the pad, Nura shifted her weight on her feet and peered up at him. “Thank you, Calum,” she said, her voice holding the genuine appreciation she felt over him fixing her blunder. “I’ll pay you back.”

She saw the frown that drew together his eyebrows as he pocketed his wallet, shooting her a near bewildered look. “The hell you will,” he said with a scoff. Calum shook his head, walking to the back of the cart to grip its handles. With a pointed look at her, he added, “I didn’t mind doing it, Nura, and I didn’t do it for you to owe me anything. I was happy to help.”

The look in his eyes told her that he wasn’t going to budge on his stance, and Nura just kind of fell for him a bit more in that moment. She also felt a wave of guilt for all the teasing she had done regarding him and his money, and wished she could take it back. Coupled with what Luke had told her that night at the club and him paying for her family’s groceries—not to mention the fact that when they’d stopped to get gas on their way to Homestead, he’d paid for it—Nura knew that Calum Hood wasn’t like any of the guests she’d ever encountered, and the money he had, he would use it for others before using it for himself.

That little trait only made him all the more attractive.

As they exited Wal-Mart, Nura tried, “Will you at least let me get you a drink when we get back? On me.” She didn’t know how much that would mean, given what he was paying to stay at the resort, but it was all she could think of doing. It was a small gesture, nothing compared to what he’d done.

And yet, Calum grinned at her, sharp features melting into a giddy softness as he pushed the cart along and nodded. “Absolutely.”

Nura left Homestead with a lighter heart than the one she’d arrived with. Most of it had to do with the fact that her mom, thank God, had started feeling a lot better than when Nura first got home. Her antibiotics seemed to kick in, and they did plenty in helping her mom out with the nausea and pain she had been feeling. With Calum and Nura chipping in to help around the house, even if it was only for three days, her mom was able to get as much rest as she could and it helped her recovery along.

She was no longer pale or running between her bed and the bathroom anymore, the pain had nearly subsided, and Nura knew her mom would be okay. And after telling her brother to be good and take care of their mom, and with Mrs. Ansari and Billy thanking Calum for all of his help, Nura and Calum left her house and were back on the road to the resort. This time, she joined in with him in singing along to the songs playing through the car at a louder volume; lighter hearts made for a happier car ride back, and Nura really fucking appreciated Calum’s help in it all. While she had been caught completely off guard when he had offered to come, she was so relieved he did.

They got back to the resort late in the evening when the sun had set and, ever the gentleman, Calum walked Nura back to her suite. Their footsteps softly thudded on the sleek floor, the hall empty as they reached her door around eight in the evening. Nura unlocked it and stepped inside, dropping her bag on the floor and turning to see Calum watching her, leaning against the doorframe with his hands in the pocket of his leather jacket which she couldn’t understand how he wore in the Florida heat.

Nura wrung her fingers together as she took a step towards him, feeling her skin flush as she began, “Calum—thank you, honestly, for helping out this weekend. You didn’t have to take time out of your vacation to do that and I—I really appreciate it.”

Calum’s eyebrows so briefly pulled together as his face scrunched up in protest, giving a shake of his head. “You don’t have to thank me, Nura.” He shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips. “You’ve been takin’ care of us and it just felt like the right thing to do.”

She let out a breathy chuckle at that, about a foot or two worth of space between them as she raised an eyebrow at him. “Yeah, well, it’s my job to. You did it because you’re a good person.”

She saw the way his eyebrows raised, corner of his lips tugging into a wider smile as he scoffed lightly through his nose. There was a teasing glint in his dark eyes as he said, “Means a lot, coming from someone who once said I was just barely a decent person.”

Nura rolled her lips into her mouth, an embarrassed heat flushing her skin as Calum chuckled quietly at her reaction. Of course she remembered saying that to him, right after he had basically tipped her out of spite. It seemed like so long ago, rather than just a month. “Yeah, well,” Nura mused, not at all minding the way the space between them seemed to be closing. Her gaze lifted so brown eyes could remain locked with his, a teasing flutter in her stomach under Calum’s intent, purposeful stare. “Safe to say you’ve proven me wrong.”

They were so close, her vanilla scent mixing with the woodsy freshness of his cologne, a combination Nura desired more of as she looked up at him. Calum leaned towards her, nose brushing against hers, fueling the fire sparking in Nura’s veins as his voice dropped into a raspy, deliciously teasing murmur, “Enough to break your fraternization rule?”

Nura’s response was tilting her head up to finally give into the heat his body was radiating, to succumb to the way Calum was pulling her and connect her lips with his. She felt herself inhaling sharply as he returned the kiss, his hands finding her face as he kept her close, moving his lips with hers. Nura leaned into him, her own hands gripping his wrist as her lips parted, deepening the kiss earnestly, the softness of his lips curling her toes, pressing herself into him. She couldn’t possibly be close enough to him.

Calum’s hands were warm against her skin, the couple of rings he wore chilling her gloriously, and he tasted like the mint gum he’d been chewing in the car. The subtle flutter in her stomach whenever Calum smiled at her had erupted into a hoard of butterflies, his tongue sliding against hers. God, she knew it was a bad idea, knew she was crossing a professional line she had never ventured near. But the way Calum’s thumbs caressed her cheek, kissed her so softly yet intensely, had Nura throwing caution in the wind. How could she possibly focus on anything else when Calum was kissing her like it was what his lips were made to do?

They pulled apart too soon, a brush of lips and labored breathing, and Nura kept her eyes closed as she reveled in the warmth Calum’s body provided. Her heart was racing, his nose brushing against hers, and Nura found herself wanting to stay close. Bad ideas never seemed so good right now. “Yeah,” she finally breathed out, ragged and overwhelmed, eyes still closed as her lips curled into a dazed smile. “Definitely worth it it.”

*****

It was a long day. Every so often, the long days caught up to Nura and the day couldn’t be over quick enough as she made her around her specific areas. Her sneakers, though they were comfortable, at this point seemed to be too tight on her feet and she couldn’t wait to go back to her room and collapse for the night. Except it was one in the afternoon and her hour lunch break wasn’t for another half hour. A little bit less, she realized as she glanced at her Apple Watch and read the time as 1:06. Not fast enough though. And it didn’t help that she was waiting to hear back from some publishing firms she had applied to work for, itching to check her e-mail every few minutes. The day was already taking a toll on her.

God, she wanted to nap.

The Florida sun was something she was used to, but today it only seemed to slow her down. She kept walking from the restaurant to the pool, providing guests with drinks and snacks whenever they demanded them. Mundane, repetitive, but she got paid for it, so Nura walked around and did her job with a pleasant smile on her face despite it feeling so strained on her cheeks.

It wasn’t too bad, though, because at least while she was around the pool, she got to see Calum. He, Luke, Sierra, Michael and Crystal were all by the pool, and it was taking all of Nura’s willpower and every ounce of her professionalism not to openly admire the glow of Calum’s skin under the beaming sun, or trace the ink decorating his skin with her gaze. Their eyes would meet every now and again, and though Nura focused on doing her work, she could still feel the weight of his stare on her. It was nerve wracking and thrilling in the best ways.

Ever since their kiss last week, there had been so many more snuck in. While she worked, Calum spent time with his friends in various activities the resort offered, but as soon as she clocked out, he was joining her in her room for dinner and a TV show to binge—even if, by the end, the show was long forgotten and they were too busy with dizzying kisses and wandering hands. It was a dangerous game they were playing, Nura knew, but all of her worries seem to melt away when she was with Calum. And it felt good, for once, to not constantly think of life’s problems that had taken residence on her shoulders. It felt so good to get lost in Calum’s kisses, his touch, to melt under his warm gaze and be the reason for that stunning smile. 

“Nura, you can take your break after dropping off that order,” Mr. Gonzalez said as she picked up a small tray with a single mango smoothie on it to be delivered poolside.

She nodded, stifling the yawn threatening to escape as she made her way back to the pool to give the drink to the middle aged woman who had ordered it. Nura balanced the circular trap on the palm of her right hand, left hand gripping the rim of the tray for extra security as she made her way over. The woman was sitting just a few feet away, and Nura couldn’t wait to give her the drink and go for her break.

And maybe she’d gotten lost in her thoughts, let herself get too distracted, but Nura hadn’t registered the two kids that were running past her, hadn’t heard their excited shoulders behind her over the busy poolside hum. But just as she reached the woman, the kids, probably about nine or ten years old, roughly bumped into Nura as they went, and the startled gasp ripped past her throat faster than she could grab the glass as it toppled over, sending the yellow colored smoothie splattering right onto the woman who’d been waiting for it.

Nura heard the few gasps around her, but they sounded distant over the sound of her rapid heartbeat and the woman’s startled shriek of, “Oh, my God!”

Face flushing in an embarrassed heat, Nura covered her mouth briefly, eyes wide in mortification as she stammered out, “Oh, God, I’m so sorry, ma’am. I—Let me grab you a towel.”

“Don’t!” the woman snapped, ripping her sunglasses off her face to fix Nura with a fierce glare with icy blue eyes. Nura stopped, blood frozen and eyes apologetically wide. She was all too aware of the stares she and the now soaked woman were receiving, and she couldn’t be more horrified over the whole encounter. Especially as the pissed off woman sat up and continued, “You’ll manage to fuck that up, too. What, do you not know how to walk?”

They had been trained for moments such as this, where the customers create a scene just like what the woman was doing. But in the six summers Nura worked at the resort, nothing like this had ever happened to her, and in this moment, she forgot all about what she was told as she remained frozen in her spot, humiliated by the way she was being spoken to and angry that she couldn’t say anything back without the risk of being fired.

“Ma’am,” Nura began, hating that her voice was a bit unsteady, holding the tray to her chest and picking up the now empty glass. Throat working, she continued, “Let me get you a towel and—and another drink—”

“Don’t bother,” the woman scoffed, pulling out the towel she was laying on to wipe at her skin. The scowl was a permanent fixture on her face as she looked up at Nura. “You’re lucky you didn’t break the glass, or else I would’ve sued your ass faster than you can—”

“Hey—it was an accident and she already apologized. Move the fuck on.” Nura’s eyes widened, heart stopping in her chest as she whipped her head to the right to see Calum next to her. She gaped at him, breath still in her lungs as she wondered what the fuck he was doing as his own scowl was directed towards the seated woman.

Who, in turn, stared up at him with incredulity and irritation. Though many people were watching the scene, Nura was absently relieved that all action around the pool hadn’t ceased, because if there had been complete silence, she knew she wouldn’t be able to handle any more humiliation than this. “Who the hell are you?” the woman demanded with a frown. “She spilled the damn drink on me—can’t even fucking do her job right.”

Nura’s face was on fire, that much she was certain of. And it certainly didn’t help when Calum took a step forward, figure looming and intimidating, as he snapped, “Accidents happen. If you’re so bothered, get off your ass and get your drink yours—”

The woman’s eyebrows had show up and jaw had dropped in astonishment, and Nura quickly cut in with a hasty, “I’m so sorry, ma’am. I’ll send someone else for your drink,” and, without thinking, grabbed Calum’s arm and roughly pulled him away.

Nura was too aware of the eyes on her, hearing Calum’s flip flops drag on the floor and his indignant protests as she told Lorraine to help out the pissed off lady by the pool, and it wasn’t until they were away from the pool and restaurant and headed towards her room where she finally let out a sharp breath.

“What the hell was that?” Nura demanded harshly, not even bothering to look at Calum as she made her way towards her room. She didn’t even want to eat anymore. She just needed to be in her room where she could have a proper fucking meltdown. Thank God her suite wasn’t far. They were already entering the hall with the brisk steps Nura had been taking.

Calum easily kept up with her pace, and she could hear his own anger as he returned, “She was treatin’ you like shit. I couldn’t just let her do that.”

Her vexation getting the best of her, Nura let out a humorless laugh, jamming her key into the door before shoving it open. “That’s fucking hilarious coming from you.”

Calum shut the door, the slam sounding distant as Nura’s heart pounded in her ear as she turned to face him. She didn’t even pause to admire him standing there in just a pair of black swimming trunks, the scowl on his face matching the one she wore. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” he demanded, scoffing as he took a few steps towards her. Nura stood her ground, jaw tight. “Are you seriously bringing that up again? I thought we were fucking passed that, Nura.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, defiant as her skin remained hot to the touch. “I thought so to, until you decided to say fuck my job and tried to play the hero when I didn’t ask for one.”

He genuinely looked bewildered at her statement and Nura knew it was because he didn’t think what he did was wrong. And while if she was more level headed, she would understand why he thought that, but right now it only fueled the fire burning her blood. There was a good chance he just made things worse. Gesturing towards the door behind him, Calum exclaimed, “That woman was being a bitch to you!”

Nura clicked her tongue loudly, looking away with an irritated shake of her head before returning, “It’s just part of the job. You’d know if you ever had one!”

Calum scoffed, incredulous and angry all at the same time as he raised his eyebrows at her. “Excuse me?”

“It’s all a part of working in customer service.” Nura let out a breath, lips curling in a near condescending smirk as she eyed him. “But I wouldn’t expect a trust fund brat like you to know that.”

His eyes narrowed, darkening as he took the few steps towards her, tall body towering over hers and Nura hated the excited twist in her stomach, and the thrill that shot down her spine, when Calum’s voice dropped and he returned darkly, “Only one being a brat here is you.”

Electricity shot through Nura’s core at Calum’s words, only being able to release a small breath until his lips captured hers in a rough, dizzying kiss that had her instantly wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer. It was a frenzied kiss, desperate and heated as Calum’s fingers instinctively worked on the button of Nura’s black uniform shorts, and thank fucking God he was only in swimming trunks as he pushed her shorts down her legs and she kicked them off.

They were a mess of heavy breaths, needy kisses, and working hands as the kiss briefly broke when Calum lifted Nura’s shirt off, a fire brimming in her chest as he pushed her onto the bed before climbing over her body to connect their lips once more. He tasted of beer and cigarettes, and Nura didn’t at all mind the combination as the scruff on his chin scratched at her skin, his warm body pressing into hers as Calum broke their kiss and Nura let out a dazed, breathy gasp when his plush lips teased her neck with kisses.

Her anger and humiliation from before melted away under Calum’s body, eyes fluttering shut as one hand went to the back of his head, fingers threading through his growing dark hair and head tilting back as she reveled in the way his lips and tongue and teeth worked at her neck. She was overwhelmed by him; by his taste, touch, scent as Calum moved lower, lower, lower, his lips leaving a trail of electricity in his wake as he kept going down her body, brown eyes absent of his own previous aggravation and flashing with wicked mischief as she watched him reach her underwear.

When he pulled it down, Nura bit down on her grinning lower lip, head tilting back into the pillows as his lips teased the inside of her thighs with kisses. 

Fuck a nap; this was exactly how she wanted to spend her break.

“I’m sorry ’bout what happened at the pool.” Nura felt Calum’s chest lightly vibrate under her ear as he spoke in a rasp, her gaze fixed on he way her fingers played with his. The room had fallen into a tranquil silence, the steady beat of Calum’s heart calming Nura more than a nap would have. “I just hated seein’ the way that woman spoke to you. Reminded me of how I spoke to you and I’m sorry for it.”

Nura’s eyebrows furrowed at that, lifting her head to look at Calum. He was resting against her headboard, the sheets doing well to cover her bare chest as she laid next to him. Calum’s brown eyes met hers and Nura’s features softened as the little bit of guilt she could still see in them. “You don’t have to apologize. I forgave you for that a long time ago.” The corner of his lips quirked up but Calum still didn’t let himself smile, and Nura rested her hand on his chest as she sighed. “Thank you for defending me. And I’m sorry, too, for being such a bitch about it.”

“No, don’t,” Calum said with a shake of his head, his left hand coming up to cover her right one on his chest. Nura glanced down, feeling a smile tug on her lips at his warm touch, at the way his tattooed hand seemed to perfectly hold hers. Her brown eyes met his soft ones, feeling herself melt under his gaze all over again. “It wasn’t my place to jump in like that, no matter how much it pissed me off. I put you in a tough spot and that wasn’t fair of me.”

Nura felt her smile grow, heart fluttering in her chest at the sincerity in Calum’s voice. She then let out a chuckle, shaking her head as she responded to Calum’s curious expression with, “Either we suck at apologizing to each other, or we’re really good at it.”

Calum scoffed, his grin finally appearing, bright and beautiful. “I think it’s the latter,” he said with a quick wink, leaning forward to connect their lips in a toe curling, breathtaking kiss.

She would’ve continued it, except her phone let out a notification ding, and Calum groaned in protest when Nura pulled away with a light giggle. She reached over Calum, ended up laying with her stomach on his as she grabbed her phone from the bedside and read the new e-mail she’d received. And as her eyes took in the words on the screen, Nura’s heart dropped and a gasp escaped her throat. “Oh, shit!”

“What?” Calum asked, worry creeping into his voice. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, my God,” Nura laughed, the excitement widening the grin on her face, reading the e-mail one last time before letting out a thrilled squeal. She kicked her legs excitedly, earning a bewildered laugh from Calum until she finally announced, voice high with enthusiasm, “Penguin Random House is offering me a job in their editorial department! Oh, my God—I got the job!”

She looked back at Calum as the words fell past her lips, catching the way his eyebrows shot up and something flashed across his eyes, akin to happiness and pride, before a grin split across his face. Those crinkles she adored so much appeared, just for her, as Calum laughed, “That’s incredible, doll—congratulations!”

Her stomach was wild with butterflies, cheeks aching from the grin she wore as she let out a squeal and pushed herself up to hug Calum. She laughed against him, feeling his arms wrap around her as he squeezed her tightly, bodies flushed as she felt his nose nudge at her neck. “Oh, my God—I’m moving to New York.” That had been the dream; to land a job at a publishing firm, preferably in New York City, and move there to start her life as proper adult. The thought was fucking terrifying, but one that brought Nura a kind of happiness she couldn’t comprehend.

Fuck, if only she didn’t have to go back to work in ten minutes. She’d properly be able to celebrate—especially since Calum was already in her bed.

*****

“Nura? Mr. McNulty would like to see you in his office.”

She looked up from where she was leaning against the bar, checking her e-mail to see another offer had come in. Over the past few days, ever since that first e-mail from Penguin Random House, the other firms Nura had applied to had finally reached back after the many video interviews she had done. She’d gotten job offers to most of them, including Simon & Schuster, which was her top choice, with Penguin being her second. Her days, despite dealing with the same kind of people all of the time, carried on with a happier note with each acceptance.

“Okay,” Nura nodded, pocketing her phone and taking off her apron. Riley took it from her, storing it under the bar as Nura walked out of the restaurant and in the direction of the main lobby of the resort. She couldn’t be sure why Mr. McNulty was calling her, but it was opportune; Nura could take that moment to tell him she wouldn’t be coming back next summer. Or ever again.

She reached his office door, knocking until she heard him answer with a “Come in.” Mr. McNulty glanced up from his computer, leaning back as he said, “Oh, Ms. Ansari, good. Please, have a seat.”

Nura was good at reading people, and right now, she got an uneasy vibe off of Mr. McNulty. He didn’t look entirely happy, elbows resting on the arm rests of his chair and hands linked together as Nura slowly sat down on the chair in front of his desk. “Is everything alright, sir?”

“I’m afraid not, Nura,” he said with a sigh, leaning forward as he clicked something on the laptop in front of him. Her eyebrows drew together as he turned the laptop to show her the screen as he said, “This is you with one of our resort guests, correct?”

Nura’s gaze went to the screen, heart in her throat as she watched a video of her exiting Calum’s bungalow from a few days ago, pausing on the steps as Calum leaned in to kiss her. The video ended with Nura turning around, giving the camera a clear shot of her face before it automatically stopped—along with Nura’s heart.

Shit. Oh, fucking shit.

Her lips parted, blood rushing in her ears as she tried to find the right words. “Sir, I-I can explain—”

“You know our policy, Ms. Ansari,” Mr. McNulty cut in with a shake of his head. He didn’t look angry, per se. Just disappointed, which Nura knew was worse. Especially since she knew the man, they got along well. She had never had such a transgression, and she was absolutely mortified. Fuck. She knew this would happen, knew they hadn’t been careful. “Engaging in relationships with our guests is against company regulations, and is grounds for immediate firing.”

Which would go on her record, and although she was going to quit anyway and already got offered jobs at all those firms, there was still the risk of them finding out about her getting fired from the resort. And she knew the reason for it wouldn’t be taken lightly, either. Shit. She was screwed.

She couldn’t even look Mr. McNulty in the eye, gaze dropped to her lap where she picked at her nails, face flushed in an embarrassed, saddened heat. How could she have been so dumb? So careless? Fuck.

“However—” Nura looked up when Mr. McNulty began speaking again, taking in the resigned expression he wore. “You have been with us for over five years, and despite your mistake, you’ve been an essential employee at Little Palms. Which is why I’m willing to offer you a deal.” She sat up, breath stilling in her lungs, eagerly and carefully listening. “I’m going to give you the chance of voluntarily submitting your resignation, effective immediately. You will get paid for the hours you have worked, but you will need to leave by the end of the day. This way, it doesn’t go on your record. Does that sound fair to you?”

Nura let out a heavy breath, disbelief crossing her features. She had already been planning to quit, and although that wouldn’t have been effective until the end of summer, doing so now was better than being fired. It would suck, Nura knew, having to leave the friends she made here quicker than she had anticipated, but Mr. McNulty’s offer was the lesser of two evils. At this point, she didn’t care what was fair or what wasn’t. It was her fault for being careless despite knowing the rules of the resort, and Mr. McNulty’s generosity wasn’t something she was going to take with a grain of salt.

“I—Yes. Yes, sir. That’s fair,” Nura nodded quickly, throat tight. None of it was fair, but it wasn’t like she was going to be unemployed. She had jobs lined up. It would be okay. She would be fine. “Thank you, Mr. McNulty.”

He nodded as the two of them stood up, and he reached his hand out and said, “It was wonderful having you with us, Ms. Ansari. I wish you the best of luck in your endeavors.”

She offered a small smile, shaking his hand firmly. “Thank you, sir.”

It wasn’t until she walked out of his office did Nura let out a breath, eyes closing briefly before opening as she leaned her head back and looked up at the ceiling. She wasn’t going to lie—that was kind of shitty. And although she knew she could use the extra time to pack up her life and get ready for her move to New York, it still left a small hole in her heart. Mr. McNulty only allowed her to resign out of her loyalty to the resort; so easily could she have just been fired, and Nura knew that would’ve sucked more. Still, it wasn’t wrong—or at least, she didn’t think it was—that the situation left a bitter taste in her mouth.

Nura sighed once more, giving a shake of her head as she began walking, figuring she might as well head to her suite to start packing. Her phone let out a ding and she pulled it out, eyebrows raising when she saw an e-mail from a Penguin Random House address. Nura hummed in acknowledgment, walking as she read the message from the woman who was the head of the editorial department, feeling a small smile tug at her lips as she read that the woman was excited to hear more from her, and that she hoped Nura accepted their offer.

And the e-mail had made her smile, reminding her of the hope she still had and how today wasn’t so shitty, until she got to the last line of the e-mail.

I’m so glad Mr. Hood—or Calum, as you may know him—recommended you to our firm. His e-mail only reaffirmed our decision in moving forward with your application.

Nura stopped, eyebrows slowly knitting together as she read those two sentences over and over again, hoping that she was only imagining them. But the more she read them, the clearer they got, and the heat that simmered in her veins only seemed to intensify with each second that passed by.

What the fuck.

He had reached out to them on her behalf? What the hell had he been thinking? Nura ran her fingers through her hair, letting out a sharp breath as she remembered the day she’d gotten the e-mail from them. He had been with her and he kept his damn mouth, didn’t even think to mention that he’d talked to them. 

Good thing he hadn’t, or else she would’ve probably ripped his head off while he was naked in her bed.

Heart drumming wildly in her chest, Nura texted him with trembling thumbs, casually asking him where he was. When he responded almost instantly, telling her he was at the beach, Nura didn’t think twice. She didn’t care she had to get her things ready—she needed to have a conversation with him first.

She arrived to the beach quickly, deaf to the sounds of people enjoying themselves and music playing and waves crashing. The sand was soft under her sneakers, eyes narrowed against the glare of the sun as she searched for Calum, or maybe even his friends, knowing he was with them. She walked in the direction of the shore, looking right and then left, jaw clenching when she caught sight of him resting on a towel under an umbrella. 

Nura stormed over, her anger and indignation overwhelming her, ignoring the greetings his friends offered her as she stood in front of his now sitting body when he heard her name being uttered by everyone else. “I need to talk to you,” Nura stated through gritted teeth. God, she was so angry, so outraged that he would meddle in her business the way he had, no matter his intentions. 

Calum frowned from behind his sunglasses, taking them off before he slowly stood up. Not even his stupid tattooed body could distract Nura from the glare she wore. “Is everything okay, sweetheart?”

Nope. No endearing nickname would distract her either. Nails digging into her palms, Nura demanded, “Did you reach out to Penguin Random House on my behalf so they would give me the job?”

She saw the realization flash across Calum’s face, lips parting as guilt tugged at his features and the knot in Nura’s stomach tightened. All of Calum’s friends had fallen silent as he started, “I—yeah, I did, but Nura—they were goin’ to give you the job anyway.”

“Maybe!” she exclaimed defiantly, eyebrows shooting up. “But it was what you did that made them go through with it, and I didn’t fucking ask you to do that.”

“Nura—” Calum let out a breath, frowning down at her as he gave a shake of his head. “I was just tryin’ to help.”

The sun was burning down her back, and it only drove Nura’s irritation further. Her chest felt tight, hating every minute of this. “I didn’t ask you to,” she repeated through gritted teeth, expression as hard as her eyes, and she knew Calum could see that. “I want to have a job because of my own hard work, not because of anything else.” She crossed her arms over her chest, voice lacing with a bitter venom as she added, “But I guess that’s too hard for someone who hasn’t worked a damn day in their life to understand.”

The hurt flashed across Calum’s face and for a moment, Nura regretted the words she’d uttered. God, they had been past that. She had stopped throwing his access to money in his face, had realized he was so much more than his bank account. But she was so angry in his act of meddling, and she lashed out when she was hurt, uncaring of who got caught in the damage. And it didn’t matter how much she liked Calum, how much he made her smile or laugh or feel good. He hadn’t respected her work ethic, had interfered when he wasn’t needed, and it only ended up hurting her. So she hurt him.

Nura took a step back, thinning her lips at him, uncaring of his friends’ stares as her brown eyes remained locked with Calum’s. His eyebrows were drawn together, the hurt more prominent on his face than anything else, and although the sight of him looking at her light that tightened Nura’s throat, it didn’t stop her from saying, “You cost me two jobs today, Calum. Do me a favor and stay the hell away.”

He saw the alarmed confusion in his eyes at her words, but Nura didn’t give him a chance to say anything as she turned and walked away, arms crossed tightly as she made her way off the beach. She knew he tried to go after her, was stopped when Ashton said, “Let her go, man,” and a dry sob escaped Nura as soon as she was far enough away from them. She felt her face scrunch up as she fought to keep the tears away; tears of anger, of sadness, of hurt—whatever the fuck they may be. It all came crashing into her after disappearing from Calum’s intense, pleading gaze, and Nura only let the tears fall when she was in the privacy of her bedroom.

She had expected to say goodbye to the resort soon enough. Saying goodbye to Calum, though, had never crossed her mind. 

*****

“She’s settled well in New York,” Mrs. Ansari told him with a smile, a happiness in her eyes as she spoke about her daughter. “She always wanted to get out of Florida, and even though I don’t like her being so far, I know she’s happy. That’s all I can ask for.”

Calum smiled, looking down at his hands as he twirled one of his rings. “She’s definitely a city girl—I’m not surprised she fits right in,” he said, unable to keep the fondness from slipping into his tone. Her face flashed across his mind; glimmering brown eyes and a smile that rendered him breathless every time. “They’re lucky to have her there.”

There was a silence that settled upon them briefly, and Calum heard the sound of porcelain clicking against glass as Mrs. Ansari put her mug of tea on the coffee table. “She told me what you did.” Calum’s throat worked as he looked up to meet the older woman’s gaze, surprised when she smiled at him gently. “Your heart was in the right place, Calum, and I know Nura knows that. She’s just. . .” She trailed off with a soft chuckle. “She’s independent, always has been. Her father and I raised her to work hard for what she wants and what you did, although it was only out of good intentions, made her feel as though you didn’t value who she was.”

Calum sat up, hating that that was ever a thought in Nura’s head. He admired her, so fucking much. And helping her had been such a natural instinct that Calum hadn’t stopped to think how it could be interpretated. Fuck, he should’ve known that the only way to help Nura was to support her in how she chose to run her life, not pave a pathway for her. Calum shook his head with a sigh, gaze dropping once more as he stared at his half drank cup of tea. Without even thinking, he murmured, “I value her more than anything.”

And he did. Of course he did. She’d come into his life like a whirlwind when he least expected it, when he was too busy being bitter over the way Dawn’s life had been moving forward despite her taking advantage of him. Nura was better than anyone Calum had ever met. She never took advantage of him, was quick to knock him down a peg or two when he needed to be, and, fuck, he loved her for it. Of all the things in the resort, Nura was the one who gave him a peace of mind, who pulled him out of the vat of bitterness that Dawn had thrown him in. He’d gone to Little Palm to so the beach and ocean and everything else in between could distract him. But it was Nura who did so by keeping him on his toes in the best way possible. 

He heard the smile in Mrs. Ansari’s voice. “Give her some time, beta. If you truly care about her, and I can tell that you do, you’ll try one more time.”

The late October chill of New York was something Calum was familiar with. He enjoyed it, a nice change from the warmth of Los Angeles, and he didn’t mind standing out on the sidewalk, back leaning against his car as he kept his gaze fixated on the front door of the building in front of him. His hands were kept warm in the pocket of his long dark grey coat, watching each person that walked out of the door, hoping it was the one familiar face he had been in search for.

He had half a mind to pull out a cigarette to warm him up, but he didn’t want the first time she saw him in months to be when he smelled of tobacco. Fuck, he didn’t even know if she wanted to see him. For all he knew, she would see him waiting outside and turn right back into the building. His heart drummed in his chest, and no words of reassurances from his friends or Mrs. Ansari echoing in his brain could ever prepare him for the moment that Nura emerged from the revolving door of Simon & Schuster, dark hair dancing in the breeze as she took in a breath of the late afternoon New York air.

Calum’s heart leaped in his throat the second he saw her, pushing himself off the car and standing straight, feeling every drop of blood racing in his veins as Nura started descending the concrete steps and looked up, only for her dark eyes to lock onto Calum’s.

Nura stopped where she stood, hands buried in the pocket of her own peacoat and he wondered if she was trying to determine whether she was imagining him or not. He saw the shock on her face, lips parted as Calum took a tentative step forward. There was still about fifteen feet worth of space between them, filled with people passing by, and he was desperate to close it.

“What—” Nura let out a breath, and Calum swore he didn’t think he had missed her voice so much. She finally descended the stairs, making her way towards him, eyebrows drawing together as she asked, “What’re you doing here?”

For a moment, all Calum could do was stare at her. Standing in front of him after months of just being a memory in his head, Calum was desperate to drink in the sight of her for as long as he could. She looked beautiful, unsurprisingly, having replaced her resort uniform with jeans, heeled boots and a turtleneck under her coat. Absolutely stunning.

“I—” Calum paused, clearing his throat before he reached into the inner pocket of his coat, pulling out the item that had been weighing it down. Nura watched, her eyebrows rising at the item in his hands. “I thought you’d want your book back.”

A scoff escaped Nura’s upturning lips, taking her copy of Aristotle and Dante from his hands. She had never asked for it back when she left the resort, and it had been the only thing Calum had of Nura’s once she left. He’d read the book once and then twice over, soaking in the words that had become her favorite to read. He felt closer to her every time he read it, momentarily allowing himself to forget how he had fucked things up between them.

Nura rolled her lips into her mouth before lifting her gaze to meet his eyes, gently asking, “Did you like it?”

Calum rolled his lips into his mouth, hands returning to the pockets of his coat. “It was beautiful,” he nodded, voice softer than he intended. He looked down at his shoes then, black Docs stark against the pavement. “Ari kind of frustrated me, though.”

“How come?”

He bit the inside of his cheek, considering his next words carefully before he told himself to just stop thinking. He’d been thinking of saying them for so long. Now, he finally would. “It took him so long to figure out he loved Dante.” Calum’s gaze met Nura’s, offering her a small, close mouthed smile, a bit sad, but truthful. “But for me, figuring out I loved you was the easiest thing.”

Calum heard the sharp inhale Nura took at his words, brown eyes framed by long lashes widening as she gaped at him, and Calum didn’t regret it. He’d been holding those words in for so long, had kept them in his chest to the point where it had become almost painful. Now they were out there, spoken to the person they were meant to, and now Nura had the power. So he stood there, watching her, waiting for her to say something. Anything.

He saw the subtle way her eyebrows drew together, grip on her book tightening as her throat worked. “I—” Nura took an unsteady breath and Calum wondered if she could hear his pounding heart. Nura dropped her gaze, looking down at the book, letting out a nervous chuckle as she said, “Well, Ari’s a gay kid in 1987, so things weren’t so easy for him figure out—”

God, if she was anyone else, Calum would’ve hurt his eyes by how hard he would’ve rolled him. Instead, he felt himself letting out a breathless chuckle, some of the nervous tension easing in his muscles as he took a step towards her and cut in, “But I also admire him.” Nura pressed her lips together, watching him as Calum offered a small smile. “Because he gave me the push to come out here, to tell you how I feel, to apologize for the way I fucked things up.”

She was listening to him intently, eyes wide and earnest, and Calum pulled his hands out of his pockets and cupped her cheeks. Her skin was as soft as he remembered it, felt a ghost of a smile curl his lips when her eyes fluttered as soon as he touched her. Even in the heart of New York, he could smell her delicious vanilla scent.

“You make me better, Nura. With your jokes and your ethics and all of the things that make you, you. Watching you push yourself pushes me, and that makes you the best person I know.” 

“Oh, shit.” Calum let out a short laugh at the whisper she let out, looking up at him in awe and incredulity. He hadn’t meant to make her speechless, but he needed her to hear the truth, every ounce of it. She licked her lips, the corners tugging up. “That’s, uh, a lot of credit you’re giving me.”

Calum’s own lips formed a smirk, still feeling his nerves buzz in his veins. “You deserve it,” he told her before tilting his chin and widening his smirk. “You pushed me to open up my own record shop, after all.”

Nura’s eyebrows shot up, surprise crossing her features. “What? Seriously?”

“Mhm,” Calum confirmed, thumb stroking her cheek. “Over in Brooklyn. Complete with records, instruments, and even lessons by yours truly.” Then, with a cheeky grin, he added, “Gonna check out that hard work thing you’re always talking about.”

Nura laughed at that, using the book to lightly smack his arm as Calum laughed, feeling the knot in his stomach loosen almost completely. When her laughter quieted, brown eyes lifting to meet his, she softly asked, “Did you mean it, what you said? That you. . . You love me?”

Calum’s smile softened, throat working as her eyes provided him with a warmth against the New York chill. He lowered his chin, eyes on hers as he confirmed, “I love you.”

Nura’s chest fell with a sharp exhale, and Calum briefly caught sight of her wide grin before she closed the gap between them with a press of her lips to his. Heat warmed Calum throughout his body as he kissed her back, leaning into her the way he had been desperate to do so for months, feeling her arms wind around his waist as she held him close. It felt so good, so fucking right to kiss her, to feel her so closely, to love her like he wanted to.

“I love you, too,” she murmured against his lips, a giggle escaping her as she uttered those words so happily. 

They pulled away with thundering hearts and giddy grins, and the flush in her cheeks told Calum that they would be okay. It was all the reassurance he needed. Calum grinned, snickering lightly as he hooked an arm around Nura’s neck and mused, “Money can’t buy me that.”

Nura’s expression fell flat, bemused despite Calum’s teasing grin, and she smacked her lips together with a roll of her eyes before saying, “Shut up and kiss me again.”

His face hurt from how widely he was grinning, ready and willing to comply. “Yes, ma’am.”

--

tags: @irwinkitten​ @loveroflrh​ @softforcal​ @sweetcherrymike​ @astroashtonio​ @meetashthere​ @novacanecalum​ @captain-what-is-going-on​ @angelbbycal​ @singt0mecalum​ @hopelessxcynic​ @lfwallscouldtalk​ @bodhi-black​ @findingliam-o​ @softlrh​ @highfivecalum​ @calumsmermaid​ @erikamarie41​ @quintodosuniversos​ @longlastingdaydream​ @babylon-corgis​ @lukehemmingsunflower​ @imfuckin10plybud​ @pastelpapermoons​ @conquerwhatliesahead92​ @rotten-kandy​ @metangi​ @neigcthood​ @ohhmuke​ @old-zeppelin-shirt​ @5sos-and-hessa​ @trustmeimawhalebiologist​ @vxlentinecal​ @pettybassists​ @vaporshawn​ @lu-my-golden-boi​ @visualm3nte​ @isabella-mae13​ @dontjinx-it​ @lifeakaharry​ @neonweeknds​ @antisocialbandmate​ @ixcantxdecidexwhosxmyxfave​ @calpalbby​ @grreatgooglymoogly​ @sunnysidesblog​ @miahelizaaabeth​ @madelynerin​ @dramallamawithsparkles​ @kaytiebug14​ @hoodskillerqueen​ @bitchinbabylon​ @empathycth​ @xhaileyreneex​ @inlovehoodx​ @aestheticrelated​ @bloodlinecal​ @sublimehood​ @madbomb​ @raabiac​ @britnicole11​ @outofmylimitcal​ @wildflower-cth​ @wildflowergrae​ @bloodmoonashton​ @vxidhood​ @gosh-im-short​ @thesubtweeter​  

#calum hood #calum hood one shot #calum hood smut #calum hood imagine #calum hood imagines #calum hood blurb #calum hood blurbs #5sos #5 seconds of summer #ashton irwin #michael clifford #luke hemmings #5sos one shot #5sos smut #calum hood fanfic #calum hood fic #5sos imagine #5sos imagines #5sos blurb #5sos blurbs #5sos fanfic #5sos fic #ashton irwin one shot #luke hemmings one shot #michael clifford one shot #ashton irwin imagine #luke hemmings imagine #michael clifford imagine #ashton irwin blurb #luke hemmings blurb

[lizacstuff]

SCK Asks: Episode 38

(asks under the cut)

Anonymous said: happy edser just HITS different. maybe it's because we've been so deprived of them together and blissful, it's such a joy to watch. i had a silly grin on my face during all their scenes. sure the tumor cloud is looming over our heads, but this episode only laid the foundation for that and then went into romcom mode, which i really appreciated because we've been bogged down for SO LONG with heaviness, it was nice to just take a breather.

OMG! Yes, all of this. And I’m not sure if it’s happy Edser that hits different, or if it was whatever magic and sparkle these writers injected into this episode that made it hit different.  

The magic was BACK. The sparkle was BACK. These writers took the most ridiculous scenario idea (these two famous architects deciding to solve a murder) and just made it sing. I grinned through the whole thing and laughed out loud, A LOT. 

This was the first episode in ages where I wasn’t watching the clock and waiting for some uncomfortable or unpleasant moment or scene to occur. Instead watching was pure joy and no anxiety, even with a tumor diagnosis. 

There was so much good Edser in this episode it’s hard to know what to talk about. I loved every moment they were on screen together. 

Anonymous said: I have to hand it to you, you said that the reason they were doing this pregnancy story is so that we could find out that Selin and Serkan never slept together. ngl I wanted her to suffer more, but as long as she’s gone I’m fine with her punishment being the humiliation of having to admit that in front of Eda. 

Ha! Yes, I have said that all along, and I’ve never been more relieved to be right. They really went the extra mile with having Selin spell out that it hadn’t happened.  With the English subs it almost sounded like they had never, ever had sex, even before.  If so, I could actually believe it, their prior relationship seemed to be very business like, like they were each other’s safe, convenient date to business and family functions, and it wasn’t emotional or physical for him. 

After the gross story around Selin, and how much damage she did and how much she got away with, this was not nearly enough comeuppance to sate my thirst for her pain. These writers started this story and introduced Selin’s role in it, so it’s not like they 100% inherited something they had nothing to do with. However, between Bige’s limited availability due to her father passing, Sarp Can having covid, and the way the other writers drug it into the ground, I’m also just happy it’s over and will deal with this being all we get, plus, while she didn’t get punished adequately, she did take her lumps. It’s humiliating that Serkan went around acting incredulous to everyone who would listen that she could be pregnant because he never touched her, even while she was his fiancé. I mean that’s a shrinker. Can you imagine agreeing to marry a man who you knew didn’t want to touch you? Everyone now knows her sad, pathetic desperation to have him under any circumstances. Yikes. 

And as you say, she then had to stand in front of Eda and Serkan and admit he didn’t touch her. Admit that Serkan never wanted her, and it’s humiliating that everyone at Art Life knows what she did and thinks she’s a monster. Serkan finally knows she’s an awful manipulator who tried to trick him, and in the end she gets an unplanned pregnancy with a man who doesn’t love her and whom she doesn’t love.  So it’s not like she’s winning by any stretch of the imagination. 

(Though I really wish everyone knew (mostly Serkan and Eda) that she sabotaged Eda’s presentation. It’s important for the characters to know that she can’t be trusted professionally as well as personally... but oh well.)

Anonymous said: Two things: 1) I kinda love it even more that they got the tattoos before he found about the illness.. idk why but it was even MORE romantic. Also does this mean they're kinda sorta engaged again since the reason she said no in the first place was Selin? and 2) I need more of that "ring for love" bell ASAP. My jaw actually dropped when he lifted her up since we were deprived of it in 26.. please more breaking of family structures!!

Oh I agree, I found it very romantic they went and got the tattoos and the only impetus was their desire to have a symbol of their love. I already love those tattoos so much, and I love that they sat their designing them together. They really do signify the ultimate commitment. 

I’m not sure if they’re engaged or not. Maybe they’re in a place where it’s obvious they’re going to get married, they both know they’re going to get married, but we’re still going to get one more proposal to make it official?  

As for the ring for love bell, when and where did he get that!? Hee. And yes to more breaking of the Turkish family structure. That lift and twirl through the living room was... HOT. And it was just so effortless, there are just no words at times for how good Hande and Kerem are, I’ve really never seen anything like it. They don’t really have time to rehearse on set, or limitless takes or the time to really block and perfect things, but they’re just so good together they make magic happen every time they’re on screen.  Amazing. Enjoy this kids, because you probably won’t see anything like it again. 

Anonymous said: With the nature of these shows, Eda and Serkan will not a blissful happily ever after without something hanging over there heads or some new drama until the show actually ends. So if the new angst is Serkan's potential illness, I'm down for the potential angst it'll create.. it's already a good sign that, although he hasn't told her about it yet, he's not pushing her away in fear, but instead the opposite. I also don't think, and really hope not, him keeping it secret rn won't cause trouble.

Yes, I like that even with that heavy health news hanging over the episode, it was still light and funny and romantic and had that old sparkle. That tells me that they’re going to strike the right tone with this story which seems to be a very carpe diem thing with Serkan. 

It didn’t bother me that he didn’t tell her. First, he told the doctor that he didn’t want anyone to know until he had a diagnosis. That makes sense, why worry her, or any of them, before they know.  I’m sure I would feel different if he was pushing her away because of the diagnosis, but since he’s holding her close and just seems to want to spend time with her, without that heaviness hanging over her head, I’m okay with it. 

Also, as seen in the new fragman, if this story is an excuse to get them out of the office and put them in all sorts of scenarios together it would otherwise be hard to justify, bring it on.  Let’s see how far down the list of things to do they can get! 

Anonymous said: i know no one reaaaally cares because they're not most people's favorite side characters, but it's really much nicer to watch aydan and ayfer scenes now that they're both on "team edser" and have become really good friends. i swear, the AAA trio scenes were so unbearable to watch when they were fighting over him and i was fast forwarding through all of them.. at least i can sit through team "united" aydan/ayfer scenes.

They’re actually enjoyable scenes now! I love that they’ve become actual true friends, best friends really, and along with Seyfi I love their little trio.  Love that Seyfi and Ayfer were being so supportive about Aydan rekindling something with Kemal.  And I agree that we can root for them when they’re working for Edser’s well-being and happiness.  I just hope Aydan doesn’t do something stupid if there begins to be some question about Serkan’s parentage. 

Anonymous said: the scooby doo gang ending had me laughing so hard i was tearing up when more and more people kept sneaking in and eda and serkan were getting more and more exasperated. erdem accidentally using flash took me tf out lmao. i love when sck does comedy with the whole cast and not just the usual "comedy" characters.. they're some of my favorite scenes! both "asking for the girl" scenes come to mind.

You could see Erdem using the flash coming from a mile away, but that still didn’t blunt the comedy when he actually did it.  So funny. Also Engin not recognizing Eda, imagine him thinking Serkan is there with some rando woman.  I also love the full cast comedy scenes, they are so much fun and really should be utilized as often as possible. 

The scene where Edser walk back into the house and Aydan and Kemal were there paying their respects had me screech-laughing! So so so funny. Both sides being incredulous that the other was there and wanting answers!  I also enjoyed that Serkan obviously put Erdem in charge of Kemal’s project, because he wants that project to go away. Unfortunately for Serkan, I think it’s going to take more than Erdem to drive Kemal away.  

Anonymous said: Everyone is saying serkan planned the whole thing, do you buy into that? Idk would he really put everyone in a gunpoint situation where they don’t know it’s fake? Cause that’s some potentially trauma inducing stuff. Also I have no idea where they’re going with this, since it’s been a 4 day break from set which is kind of worrying. And do you know why Melisa wasn’t in the ep? I know Sarp can got Covid but wasn’t Melisa posting with cast members on her story throughout the week?

Wow, this is a lot of negative energy and fretting after a really good episode. Deep breath. Since you sent this, we know that Hande and Kerem have been shooting for 2 full days at a romantic looking beach location for 39, so it looks like Edser has some sort of mini-getaway. I don’t see any reason to be concerned about the 4 day break last week. (now the fragman’s out, hopefully that puts your mind at ease)

No idea why Melissa wasn’t in the ep, other than the way the ep was structured with the supporting characters, if she had to miss the ArtLife shooting day then I can see that they would have had to write her out of the full episode, because most of their scenes were there and it set up everything for the rest of the episode. So perhaps she was in quarantine for a Covid exposure, maybe she was legit sick/injured (she has had a foot thing) or maybe she had a conflict for that one shooting day. No idea, but I don’t think it’s anything to worry about.  Also her absence gave us Ferit/Melo scenes and I’m 100% behind that, give us more of those! 

As far as if Serkan planned the whole thing, he did look pretty smug and relaxed while sitting there at the end, but he also wasn’t planning for the whole group to tag along and make a mess, lmao. We’ll have to see. 

Anonymous said: Do you think bad ratings makes sck in danger of being cancelled or do you think high social media engagement keeps it safe?

Friends, I don’t know anything about the Turkish system, but it seems to me that SCK will either go through May or extend into summer and end then, regardless of the ratings. We shall see. As I’ve said before I’m not going to engage in the fretting and worrying and discussion on this topic because no fan really knows what they’re talking about and there is nothing we can do to change what will happen. So just enjoy the show while we can, the news on when it will end will come when it comes. 

#Sen Çal Kapımı #Sen Cal kapimi #edser #sck episode discussion #sckask #sck 1x38 #asklizac #anonymous

[give-jack-a-lightsaber]

Cool... Bruises? (Chicago Fire)

A/N: I’m back baby (?) I had this idea a few weeks ago but last night a saw it in my notes and started writing it! Just like that... I wish that could happen to me with college stuff but nope. Anyway, I tried a new way of writing that involved not using “Y/N” and making it gender neutral! It was a hard but gratifying experience, I hope you like it!

Word count: 1546 

Firehouse 51. You have been here for a month and a half and saying that it was the greatest house you ever worked in was the smallest compliment you could think of. This was your third, and hopefully last, firehouse in your ten years of being a firefighter.

 Why a firefighter? It didn't run in the family, you weren't saved by one of them, you didn't get excited by the adrenaline of the dangers that came with... No, none of that. You just lived your whole childhood in front of a firehouse and seeing them run to the trucks whenever the alarm sounded, with rain, snow or in the middle of a heatwave, to help a complete stranger who needed it was all it took for you to know that when you grew up you wanted to love your job as much as them and if in the same time you could be helping someone, better. So when you graduated from high school, you went straight to the fire academy and you loved it.

 Now 10 years later you still loved the job with all your heart and the schedule helped with your second job that it was as gratifying as the first one: a tattoo artist.

 You loved drawing your whole life, which is why your friends and family were kinda surprised that you didn't follow an art or design type of career. But nowadays it was as important for you as being a firefighter. It was your way of interacting with complete strangers without the fire or a halligan in the middle, and also an escape for your mind from bad calls or stupid discussions with your colleagues.

________

It was a completely normal Friday... except for it really wasn't. The whole past week, in and out of work, you started to notice that your coworkers (that luckily you can also call your friends) were acting strange towards you. At first not everyone was like this, if you don't remember wrong the first you noticed acting like this was Cruz, but now the whole shift was starting to whisper around you, stared at you worriedly and asking you things like "how are you been lately?" or "everything okay at home?".

 'Maybe they're joking with me because I'm a newbie', you thought, although is kinda strange because you been with them for almost two months... Still, you decided to ignore it but if it did get worse you will intervene.

 After the everyday reunion with the chief all went straight to have breakfast but you needed a quick detour to get your vitamins from your locker. Entering the common room you went straight to get a glass of water, popped your vitamins in your mouth and grabbed a plate for your breakfast.

 "What'd you take?" Herrmann asked beside you.

 "Vicodin. You can all call me Dr. House now" you joked and faked a limp in your way to the table. You knew it was a lame joke but you also knew that Brett and Capp would have laughed at that, so when you looked up from the plate and saw everyone staring at you with long and saddened faces you couldn't take it anymore.

 "Okay, what is going on with all you?", you asked standing up from the table and moving to the door so you would have a view of everyone, "did I do something to bother you guys?".

 Immediately a chorus of "no", "not your fault", "hey don't blame yourself" invaded the room and surprisedly were cut off by chief Boden.

 "You did nothing wrong kid, but it has come to my attention that some of your coworkers are worried about your well-being, and I know you still feel like the new face here and maybe you can't open up to us yet, but we are here for you when you are ready" he said looking at you with kind eyes.

 "Uh" you stared at everyone for a few seconds, searching for words to describe  how you felt right now. "I don't want to be disrespectful to you chief or anyone but... What the hell are you talking about?".

 "Come on, Cruz saw them when you were changing in the locker room" chastised Severide while frowning at you.

 "Saw what?" you questioned, getting confused more and more.

 "The bruises!" Joe yelped, "I saw a big ass bruise in your left leg. You can stop lying now".

 "Bruises? Wha-" that's when you realized what was this about. Oh boy... "It's not a bruise-".

 "Nah don't come at me with this crap" Herrmann halt you, "you didn't fall nor got hit by anything in the lasts two weeks and Cruz said those looked like a big deal so start talking".

 "Hey you don't go threatening people who need help" snapped Brett at the grey haired man.

 "Sylvie is right, is a sensitive matter that needs sensitive-" stated Casey before being cut off by the comments of everyone present in the room.

 "Guys, really is not what you think of" you protested but by now the discussion of treating the "problem" with a delicate or hard hand was swallowing your voice completely.

 Then a crazy idea came to you and you thought 'what the hell, this is already out of my control'. You felt through your uniform pants and silently cheered and thanked your past you for putting your biker shorts underneath.

 Big inhale and...

 "HEY!!" you shouted with all your lung capacity, that thankfully managed to get everyone quiet.

 "It's not a bruise and-" you started but stopped to send a threatening look towards Mouch who was about to interrupt, "AND I can prove it". Finished that sentence you started to unbuckle your belt even if you could feel their eyes, many many eyes, on you.

 "What are you..." Stella trailed off with a confused chuckle.

 "I am not bruised" you stated just before pulling your pants downand waiting quietly for the reactions. Every single one was amazing to see, the pants down technique was totally worth it.

 "Goddammit Joe you don't know the difference between a bruise and a tattoo?!" roared Herrmann looking at the firefighter in question.

 "H-how am I supposed to know?!! Literally the whole leg is tattooed and I just saw a glimpse of it in the locker room!" Joe excused himself while pointing at your leg.

 "You can put your pants back on" sighed the Chief and left the room.

___________

 "Those are some nice tattoos" commented Matt, now all sit down eating breakfast.

 "Thank you, I designed all myself but just tattooed the parts in my leg. The thigh section was done by a colleague" you beamed at him. "I'm really proud of it".

 "Wait, are you a tattoo artist? That is so cool" marveled Brett. "For how long? Do you work of it?".

 "Well I started when I got out of the academy, so around 10 years. And yes, a friend and I have a little tattoo shop in Little Village" you informed them.

 "How come we never knew about this? You been here for a month and a half!" Stella sputtered while shaking her head.

 "When I came here you guys where dealing with a wannabe commissioner. I guess being under a microscope didn't leave us much time to socialize and when the situation passed we had lived together some things that made us become closer, even if we didn't know each other fully" you expressed. "Like for real, I never thought that a firehouse family could be this strong and attentive of your own, but today's misunderstanding was the cherry on the top. You truly are amazing ".

_________

 A few calls through the day went past and before they noticed the shift had ended and they were going straight to Molly's to share with their fellow first responders the now top 1 story from firehouse 51: you minus pants.

 You were thrilled. Yeah.

 "Yes, keep laughing. At least I'm going to be a famous legend in the 51" you rolled your eyes at the people in the table, them being Brett, Kidd, Severide and 21st precinct boys Jay Halstead, Kevin Atwater and Adam Ruzek.

 "For pulling your pants down?" asked Atwater chuckling with his partners, receiving a middle finger from your part.

 "Hey, can we get discounts in your tattoo house now or do I have to arrest you for exhibitionism?" Jay asked you.

 "What, you want a tattoo of Captain America's ass, soldier boy?" you smirked at him, "and if you don't stop laughing I'll charge you with a 10% plus".

 "Copy that", they laughed and keep joking around for about an hour before you stood up.

 "Okay ladies and gents, is time for me to go, I have an early client tomorrow" you stated while stretching your arms. "Talk to you later, bye".

  A chorus of soft "bye" and "good night" were heard, but when you were going towards the front door a booming voice broke through.

 "Hey, I didn't get to see that famous tattoo, could you do that pant trick here?" Adam yelled, trying poorly to hide a smile.

 You froze for a second, slowly turned to him with a smirk in your face and in your cockiest voice ever you answered him.

 "You wish".

#Chicago Fire #nbc chicago fire #chicago fire imagine #chicago fire x reader #gender neutral reader #gender neutral #firehouse 51 #One Chicago #one chicago imagines #wallace boden #chief boden #christopher herrmann #joe cruz #mouch mcholland #sylvie brett #stella kidd #matt casey #capp #kelly severide #molly's #truck 81 #jay halstead #Adam Ruzek #kevin atwater

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #380

“so tear me open, but beware: there’s things inside without a care”

What do you want more than anything else? Good health, on both fronts. Have you ever tried coconut water? No, but I've heard it's gross. Who was your first love? My first "real" boyfriend, Jason. Have you ever been to a convention? (comic, YouTube, etc.) I've been to a reptile convention. Have you ever done a first aid course? No. What internet browser do you use? Well, I typically use Google Chrome, but because it hasn't been loading webpages for me, I've been using Microsoft Edge lately. Are you addicted to any energy drinks? No; I don't like energy drinks. How often do you see your mother? Every day, because I live with her. Do you like croutons in your salad? No. Are you the one who vacuums your house? Mom and I both do it. When was the last time your living room furniture was rearranged? It hasn't been rearranged in this house, but arranged when we moved in. What company do you get your internet through? Suddenlink. When you were little, did you like watching Cartoon Network, Disney, or Nickelodeon more? Disney tops 'em. I didn't watch very much Cartoon Network. If you have siblings, when was the last time you saw them? I see Nicole usually every Wednesday because she eats dinner with us. I haven't seen Ash in a little while. Misty and Katie both visited the house pretty recently, and I haven't seen Bobby for a few years. I really miss him and his son. How many cars does your household own? One. What’s your favourite meat? Chicken or pork. What’s the best amusement park you’ve ever visited? Disney World. How old were you when you got your first car? I've never had my own car. What colour is your shampoo? White. Are you listening to music right now? If so, what’s the theme of the lyrics? "Pet" by A Perfect Circle. Manipulation of a child would be my guess. What was the last thing you had to eat? I had cookies 'n cream yogurt. Are you picky about brand name for anything? Probably for some things, but nothing's coming to me right now. Do elevators freak you out? Yes. The idea of getting stuck freaks me out. Are you still in touch with your best friend from high school? No. Have you ever visited any celebrity gravesites? No. How do you feel about archaeology? I think it's very fascinating. How do you find new music to listen to when you want it? YouTube recommendations, usually. What is your favorite thing to do on The Sims? I only played the animals one, in which case I loved breeding them to see the babies, haha. Do you have any tattoos? Ye boiiiii If yes, is there any meaning behind them? All of them. If no, do you want any? What would you like? N/A Have you dyed your hair more than once (and different colors)? Oh yeah. Which hair color you’ve had has been your favorite? Red. Your favorite place to be aside from your home? Sara's house, haha. If you were stupid-rich, would you ever actually want a mansion? Nah, I don't need that much space. And I'm not really into hiring a maid or something to clean the place. Did you ever sit alone at lunch in school? Yes. I was usually too shy to "force" (as I saw it) my way into other's space, so I really only sat down with friends or acquaintances if I was asked. What is your least favorite beverage? Probably cranberry juice. Do you shave up past your knees (if you shave your legs)? If I shave, yes. Any old home remedies you use when you’re sick? Just sipping ginger ale. Do you like fruits or vegetables more? Fruit, definitely. Who was your last text message from? Sara. What was your first job? Sales associate at GameStop. Do you live near any volcanoes? Nope. Where does your best friend live? Illinois. How many people have you truly fallen IN love with? Two. Has anybody ever called you a tease? Yes, but only by my then-boyfriend, and he only meant it playfully. What about kinky? No. What’s your favorite bird? Probably barn owls. Have you ever been high? No. Who did you last confide in? My mom. How many keys are on your keychain? One. Where was your mom born? New York. Do you know how to tap dance? I took many years of clogging classes, which is very, very similar; the shoes are just a bit different to create a unique sound. Have you ever seen your siblings naked? My little sister and I used to bathe and take showers together as little kids, plus she is literally shameless and has walked into the living room looking for a towel after a shower on many occasions, haha. I actually don't think I've seen my older sister naked. When eating string cheese, do you dive right in or just peel it? I don't like string cheese. Do you have your own personal water jug? If so, where did you buy it? No. Well, Mom bought me one, but... we did NOT realize it was HUGE. We returned it, so now I don't have one. How do you get rid of your hiccups? Just wait it out and suffer. I've tried every trick in the book, and none work for me. Do you know how to take screen shots on your computer? Yes. When you sneeze, do you sneeze into your hand or the inside of your elbow? Into the crook of my elbow. What’s your ultimate favorite bagel? I really just enjoy a plain 'ole bagel with cream cheese. When you have chocolate, do you eat it room temperature? Or are you like me and stick the bar into the fridge first? I like it at room temperature. Are there any constellations you recognize just by looking at them? Well, I know either the Little or Big Dipper when I see 'em, but idk which is which. I just know one's upside-down. Which insect do you find the most beautiful? Butterflies. Moths can be gorgeous, too. What was the last thing you got very excited about? Someone is FINALLY adopting the dog this weekend. Mom and I have lost every ounce of patience with her. The family that wants her though came to visit, and they all adore her. Which Disney villain is your favorite? Probably Scar. I think he was pretty sly, plus he had a bangin' song, lol. Have you ever had a bedroom with a specific theme? Not really. Just filled with stuff I like. If you had to design a room with a theme, what theme would you choose? I would love to make a like, woodsy sort of room, if that makes any sense. Maybe like pine green walls with wooden accents and realistic decor. It'd be SUPER cool if I could build like one of those catwalk things along the walls that look like branches for my cat to maneuver along. Have you ever given money to a homeless person? No, I'm too distrustful. Have you ever designed your own Facebook timeline cover? Yeah. What is one site that closed down that you wish would come back? I used to really enjoy Dragons of Atlantis on Kabam! or whatever it was called. It transferred to a phone app that I have, but it's just not as fun. The dragons were super cool, and the artwork in general was just dope. If you have a partner, have you ever had to sleep in separate beds? If you don’t, how would you feel if a future partner wanted separate beds? I sometimes worry my future partner and I will have to have separate beds because of my nightmares/terrors that frequently cause me to lash out and basically attack the air. Sleeping separately would feel weird to me, but I'd far rather not hurt my partner. Hopefully, getting a CPAP mask really will help me. Though I don't imagine cuddling with one is comfortable. ;-; Or does having a partner even matter to you? I mean I want a partner someday, so I wouldn't say it "doesn't matter" to me, but it's not something I'm currently pitching a fit over not having one. How many languages can you count to a hundred in? Two. What is something you are skeptical about? The government lmao. What is something you find absolutely unethical? The meat industry, honestly. You look into it and it's just... disgusting, what they do to animals. I wish I could go without meat, I really do. What is something unethical you would not mind doing? Uhhhh? Is there a murder case you find absolutely fascinating? Okay so have you ever heard about or seen that video of a woman acting all strange inside an elevator at some hotel? Well, she disappeared after leaving that elevator, and some time later, residents complained about the water quality. They found her fucking body in one of the water tanks (I think that's what they're called?), and no one could explain how someone could have 1.) gotten up there and 2.) gotten the tank open to put her corpse inside. It's fuckin weird and creepy. What is an unusual item somebody you know owns? No idea. What’s the oldest TV-show you like? When was it made? Uhhh I don't know which is older, but I love I Love Lucy and The Munsters. Have you ever won a trophy for something? If so, what was it for? Yeah, sports and academic stuff. Have you ever been interviewed to a newspaper? If so, what was it about? No. Do you have a mug with your name/initials on it? No. Have you ever designed your own mug? No. Have you ever gone mud riding? No, that is not my definition of fun. I don't like being dirty. Have you met somebody that you want to spend the rest of your life with? Yes. Who was the last male you talked to? Does he have facial hair? My psychiatrist, and he does. Have you ever dressed up as a Disney character? Which one? Not to my recollection. Have you ever played chess? If so, are you good at it? No. If I wanted to buy you a chocolate bar, what kind should I NOT get? Don't get anything with coconut.

#survey #surveys #questions #lyrics: ''until it sleeps'' by metallica

[tackyink]

Still holding onto the hope of running out of steam soon so I can work on other fics. In any case, this has a title now. It’s Degrees of Separation.

I hate this chapter solely because in my mind it was supposed to be one, then it got long and turned into two awkward chapters, and by splitting them I was left with this thing in which nothing happens. Why would you want to read this? I don’t know. I don’t know if I want to read it, even though I did. Repeatedly. To edit out all the typos I’m sure I’ve left in. I’m going to put a Golden Sun stream on the background, play Animal Crossing and drown my frustration in Coca Cola. It’s been a long week.

One last detour before Sabaody. Alex is bored, the Heart Pirates reenter the scene, and Law has an “if it isn’t the consequences of my own actions” moment.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

— — — — — — — —

Chapter 3

There was a storm.

Alex didn’t know if it was related to the Aqua Laguna that the ship had set out to avoid or it was simply one of the Grand Line’s meteorological whims, but two days after departure, the noon sky went so dark it was like a moonless night had come down early, the winds picked up, and the waves started to beat against the ship’s hull in an uneven rhythm.

The crew was all over the place, trying to steer the ship and reef the sails as they ushered the passengers inside to keep them from falling overboard. Alex had been caught in bad weather travelling before, but never to this extent. She had a hard time thinking of anything scarier than being at the mercy of a windy sea. Nowhere to run, nothing to do except wait and pray that the waters would take pity on you and let you live another day. Alex wasn’t the praying sort, so while she waited below deck with a group of people as scared as she was, if not more, she couldn’t even do that.

The nervous chatter of the passengers and the parents’ attempts to console their children were muffled by the deafening sounds of the wind, the waves, the creaking wood, and the crew’s rushed footsteps on the deck.

Alex stood the entire time in front of a porthole in the dining hall where they had gathered. It helped with the seasickness from the violent rocking of ship, it was better than to look at the other people, and, ironically, storms were her favorite kind of weather. She wondered what would be worse if they sunk, getting caught on deck and risking being swallowed by the ocean, or waiting for the insides of the ship to become a water tomb. For a long time, or at least it seemed like it, that was the main thought that repeated in her mind, until the possibility of dying felt so remote that she wasn’t even registering. Like when you picked a word and turned it around in your mouth and mind so many times that it lost all meaning. Of course she couldn’t die there. She had never done so before, so why start now?

It was absurd, but it helped. And it turned out to be right, too.

After a while, the storm subsided, and an hour later, the crew let them out on deck again. The ship wasn’t intact, but they hadn’t lost anybody, and that was as much as one could ask for when dealing with an angry sea.

In the end, there was only one major inconvenience: due to the damage, the ship had to change its course in order to dock somewhere safe to undergo repairs.

❦

Her hair had gotten longer to the point of annoyance. The tips brushed her shoulders already; long enough to get in her face whenever it wanted, but too short to tie it in a decent ponytail. Sure, she could have done it anyway, but she was vain and would have rather dealt with the hassle than solve the problem in an aesthetically suboptimal way.

The sunspots on the left side of her face were getting more noticeable, as were the dark circles under her eyes and the shy wrinkles that were attempting to come out. For someone who could spend so much time picking her appearance apart in front of a mirror, she didn’t look particularly healthy or well put together. She supposed that was part of the appeal, in a masochistic way: to find as many faults as she could, and invent some if needed.

Applying concealer under her eyes and red lipstick just for the sake of having some color on her face, she thought she needed to find herself a headband and a healthier pastime posthaste. Porta Bella was a quaint town, but there wasn’t much in the way of entertainment, and she’d had only her thoughts for company for too long.

She had been stuck there for two weeks. After narrowly avoiding disaster, the ship had been moored in the harbor for several days, and by the time it was fit enough to sail, the captain decided to go back to Water 7 to have proper repairs done. The passengers had been given the choice to remain in Porta Bella and find another ship, or to return to Water 7 with the crew. Going back wasn’t an option for Alex when Sabaody was so close that it felt like she could have seen it if she climbed on a tall tree, she didn’t trust a half-baked repair job to keep her safe, and, most importantly, someone had tried to kill Iceburg and Enies Lobby had kind of blown up in the following days of her departure from Water 7.

She didn’t want to think that the tracksuit shipwright had something to do with it, but the conspiracy theorist in her told her that it was totally his fault. That nose? Could totally be used as a murder weapon and nobody would be none the wiser.

The few passengers aside from Alex who had decided to stay in Porta Bella were already gone, leaving the inn she was staying at delightfully empty, but also making her wonder if she had messed up by not taking the first random ship that would let her sail away from there.

The island was small, so much so that Porta Bella was the only town in it, and much of it was empty. For many years there had been a migratory tendency pushing young people from nearby islands to the Sabaody Archipelago, and this one seemed to have fallen victim to it, too. The moderately long recording time of the Log Pose didn’t play in its favor, either. Five days and a half was a long time to wait when the Red Line was only a couple of days away, so not many ships stopped there. An abandoned watchtower in the outskirts of town was the only other notable location.

She left her inn room that morning, picking up a tea to go, and hoping that a good slap of early morning breeze in the face would wake her up.

Every day since she arrived, she went to the port to look for any newly arrived ships and talk to the sailors. Every time, if there was a new one at all, she was told that there were reports of increased slaver activity in those waters, and that they were headed anywhere but the Sabaody Archipelago until Marine HQ got its shit together and stopped the kidnapping crews sailing rampant. Given that the Marines must have been scrambling to recover from the loss of Enies Lobby, nobody thought they were going to get on the case anytime soon.

These series of unfortunate coincidences didn’t surprise her. Her life was often comprised of really small strokes of bad luck that were nothing more than inconvenience on their own, but that added up to really grate on her nerves. This was business as usual, so she just had to keep trying. The temporary finish line was only a stone’s throw away.

Not that human trafficking stopped at any point of the year, but she hadn’t taken into account the seasonal opening of the archipelago’s biggest auction. Thinking that not even the schedule of the Human Auctioning House had changed during her time away gave her a twisted sense of familiarity. That son of a bitch kept finding novel ways to fuck her over without even being aware of her existence. It had to be a gift, for sure.

As she walked to the half empty docks, she hoped that that was the day she lucked out. She had already decided that, if she couldn’t find a direct ship to Sabaody in the following three days, she’d take the roundabout way and sail to a bigger island with, hopefully, a wider variety of ships. She would go completely broke in the process (and there she found the thing that was as terrifying as being caught in a storm at open sea), but one had to crack eggs to make an omelette.

Ten minutes and an empty cup of tea into her stroll, she stopped in front the single newly arrived ship and thought that maybe she hadn’t lucked out, but that sure as hell life was full of weird coincidences. Because there were few submarines sailing the Grand Line, even fewer painted yellow, and she guessed that only one with that particular Jolly Roger plastered on it. Her wish of seeing it up close had been granted when she least expected it, and it didn’t disappoint. It had a curious design, half ship and half submarine. A shipmarine.

Feeling revitalized by the pun, she craned her neck and got on her tiptoes to accomplish nothing at all. She couldn’t see any of the pirates on the deck, at least from where she was standing, and what else was she supposed to do, walk closer to find a friendly face and say hi like a functioning human being would? Yeah, no. She simply stood there and stared like a creep.

The paint job of the thing was hypnotic, and she didn’t mean it as a compliment. It looked like the idea of a man who thought the peak of design was making his vehicle look like a wasp with a decal of the word ‘DEATH’ instead of stripes to look extra edgy. And okay, they were pirates, pirates killed people, it was something that came with the job – but plastering it over the ship like that was a little heavy handed, and she didn’t have any doubts as to which guy with matching tattoos had come up with those brilliant design choices. Come to think of it, wasn’t there a song about a yellow submarine? The one from those singers her mom liked when she was young… Maybe the captain was a fan, too. Maybe they sung it on board. She laughed at the thought.

It didn’t leave her indifferent, that was for sure, and that could count as a compliment, since she had seen a ton of ships throughout her life. Props to Trafalgar Law for standing out among the crowd.

If the pirates weren’t around at the moment, it had to mean they were inside of the ship or already out in town. It was early still, but she was sure it was a matter of time until she ran into them – the town was pretty small, around a hundred, counting sailors, on a good day, news travelled fast, and these guys didn’t dress unassumingly.

With that in mind, she kept an eye out for familiar faces and resumed her unfruitful rounds around the port. Another day, another set of rejections. She tossed her paper cup in a trash can and made her way to the coffee shop where she always had the second tea of the day, sometimes even the third, if she was feeling particularly down about her current predicament.

She placed her order at the counter and waited for it. The owner, a balding middle aged man whose name she didn’t know but who had started to get chatty after she showed up a few days in a row, tried to strike up a conversation while he heated the water. “Did you hear? A pirate crew arrived in town last night.”

Alex wasn’t much for conversation in the mornings, and usually her replies to his attempts were rather apathetic, but the owner had struck gold with this particular topic. “I just saw the ship,” she repeated. “Have they done anything?”

“Not yet,” he replied with the clear implication that they soon would. “But it’s a Supernova’s crew, from what I’ve heard. Their captain’s a scary guy – how do they call him…?”

She had mixed feelings about that. She’d seen scary first hand, and in her experience it came in the shape of kidnapping crews, bubble helmets, or suits and fedoras. And ultimately, it was the fedoras’ fault she was in that coffee shop in the first place.

“Surgeon of Death,” she replied. There was no doubt that with that price on his head he was a walking danger, but after their first encounter, she had a feeling he was more the selective type than the let’s wreck everything in our path kind of guy. Not that his list of attributed crimes would lead anybody to think that. “Do you have trouble with pirates often? Being close to Sabaody and all.”

“Sometimes, but they usually go to more interesting places. It used to be as easy as calling the garrison to get rid of ‘em, but with Marineford so close it’s no wonder no one wants to be here any longer.”

“There used to be Marines here?”

“Yes, at the watchtower in the outskirts, but they left after some of the rooftop caved in. Building’s condemned now. A pity, ‘cause the watchtower’s been there forever, and they’ve let it fall apart.”

“That’s a shame,” she said. “How old’s the tower?”

The water started boiling then, and he turned around to remove it from the fire and make her drink. “Tale goes that it’s old as the stone entrance, but who knows,” he said with his back turned to her. “It’s not like we have any experts to come check.” He slid her the drink over the counter. “In case, try to avoid those guys. A woman traveling alone is an easy target for criminals.”

“Yes, I know,” she replied, putting a few belis in the counter and taking the cup by the handle. “Thanks.”

She chose to sit on the terrace, next to the railing that separated it from the sidewalk, to have a good view of the street. She was in a sort of commercial district, if a main street with a dozen of shops could be called that. Most people who stopped at the island had to pass by sooner or later, so it was the busiest place in town. Not so early, though. It wasn’t opening hours yet.

Out of the corner of her eye, she watched like a hawk the man who was monopolizing the only issue of the World Economic Journal and snatched it as soon as he got up to leave, so fast that it turned the heads of the other two people on the terrace.

News of the assault of Enies Lobby had been filling pages for a week already, and that day wasn’t an exception. The Straw Hat Pirates had done the unthinkable, and while in other circumstances Alex might have been watching the situation with amusement from afar, she was also pretty annoyed at them, because their stunt no doubt played into the poor supervision in the waters near Sabaody. On the other hand, she hoped that this also meant that neither Marines nor Cipher Pol would be very invested in finding her in the near future if she ended up a suspect.

She was also a little worried about Iceburg’s condition, but the newspapers hadn’t reported his death, so she had to assume he had recovered from the attempt on his life.

She skimmed over the usual columns prattling about the lack of security at sea and how worrying it was that a whole new generation of rookies with astronomical bounties were about to set foot in the Sabaody Archipelago at the same time. She didn’t think having a handful extra menaces sailing around mattered anymore, considering the state of the world at large, but the pearl-clutching sold newspapers, and she wondered about her sense of self-preservation when she realized with disappointment that, at the rate she was moving, she was going to miss the Supernova meetup in Sabaody. Her curiosity was going to bite her in the ass one day, she thought, before remembering that it already had, and that was the exact reason she was in her current position.

She skim read a few pages looking for interesting headlines, getting to the less important news that didn’t warrant spreads, editorials and pictures that took up half the page, and paled when she read the contents of an unassuming text box.

An unfortunate accident in the island of Harlun had blown up the local library while it was undergoing renovations. Nobody had been hurt, said the write-up, but the building had been destroyed in the ensuing fire and an investigation was still ongoing to determine what had happened. At least she guessed that the last part of the article said so, because she choked on her tea as she read it and spit some of it on the paper, making the ink run.

It couldn’t be a coincidence. Well, it technically could be, but no way she was buying that. The real question was if they’d be able to link the Poneglyph to her, and considering she that she was the person who spent the most time in the archive and she had conveniently left right before construction work took place, she had a pretty good chance to win that lottery. Oh, God, what if her coworkers mentioned that she used to go to the archive on Sundays, alone?

Her first impulse was to bang her head on the table and hide it between her arms, but the surface was sticky, so she ended up regretting it immediately. Instead, she put her elbows on the table, and covered her face with her hands. Her heart was beating loudly and her mind was running wild thinking of possible courses of action. She was on a timer. Getting to Sabaody as soon as possible was a necessity now. If there was a place she could hide, ironically, it was there.

“I see life’s treating you well.”

Alex’s heart tried to leap out of her mouth when she heard someone talk to her from so up close, but one of the perks of being born with a stick up her ass was that she only tensed up when she was startled, so she saved herself the embarrassment of yelping or jumping on her chair. She removed the hands from her face to look at the person, and the sight of a spotted furry hat and a yellow and black hoodie punched her in the eyes.

“Oh, hello,” she said, feeling more relaxed when she realized it was the Surgeon of Death leaning against the balustrade, not law enforcement. Her life had taken a turn for the surreal in a very short time, had it not?

His smirk faltered. “You aren’t surprised?”

“Saw your ship,” she said with some difficulty, and she drank some tea to swallowed the knot that had formed in her throat. Of all the times for him to appear... “Town’s small, we had to run into each other.”

“Hm.”

If she exerted a bit of imagination, she’d say he looked a bit disappointed. Why would he? No idea, but it was funny to think he was, and she was in dire need of funny.

He asked, “What are you doing here? This is far from your island.”

Farther than he knew, she almost said, but that was a can of worms and not relevant in the situation at hand. Feeling too overwhelmed to give long explanations, she handed him the newspaper open by the page she’d been reading. Talking could happen once she arranged her own thoughts, and only then.

“That’s…” He took it from her hands and read for a few seconds. An inscrutable expression gradually morphed into a look of pure indignation. “What’s the meaning of this?”

She was taken aback by the unexpected display of emotion. It was odd to see him react so strongly to something that didn’t concern him. “It isn’t that surprising, considering—”

“How is it not?” He retorted, annoyed. “Sora can’t lose against these weaklings!”

She stared at him in confusion. “What?” she blurted out, realizing afterwards that he was talking about the comic strip at the bottom of the page. And to be fair, she was going to tell him to look further up when the meaning of his words sunk in, but then she was the one leaning over the railing to look at the paper he was holding. “Wait, really? That’s impossible!”

“That’s what I’m saying!”

Upon reading the message under the strip, she complained, “On break until next month?” She sat back on the chair, mumbling, “I don’t even know if I’ll be alive next month,” before taking a sip of tea.

“Summer vacation cliffhanger,” he replied. “And you still haven’t told me what you’re doing here.”

“Read the news above.”

He looked at the paper again, and his eyes widened the smallest fraction as recognition dawned. That reaction was more appropriate. “Do you think it was…?”

“I’m sure of it. It’s too much of a coincidence.”

“Are you wanted now?”

“I don’t know. They have reason to suspect I knew it was there.” And she added with a bit of humor that she wasn’t really feeling, “If I get a bounty, I’ll say it was your fault.”

“I don’t think that’s going to do you any service.” A smirk returned to grace his features as he passed her the newspaper back. He was clearly amused by her misfortune, and that was the only good thing that had come out of it. “What do you plan to do?”

Alex let out a long exhale through her nose. She wanted to say that there was no plan, but there always was. Planning was something she did obsessively. “I need to get to Sabaody as soon as possible.” It was the only option. She could have elaborated, but again, she didn’t feel like it. Too early, too stunned to talk about serious stuff. Reality hadn’t fully sunk in. “You’re on Sora’s side? Really?”

He frowned at her. He did a lot of frowning, she thought. He was going to get wrinkles young. “Of course I am.”

“But he’s a Marine,” she said, a smile growing on her face despite herself. “Aren’t you one of the bad guys?”

“The Germa are vile,” he retorted, and perhaps realizing he was getting too much into the conversation, he went back to the other, much less fun topic. “Sabaody’s going to be full of Marines in no time, though.”

She was internally screaming, but it came out as a drawn out sigh. “Thanks to you, no doubt.”

“The merit isn’t all mine.”

“I know. You lot have been all over the news for weeks.” He looked awfully self-satisfied when she said that. “I guess you’ll be heading straight there after this place?”

“That’s the plan if there aren’t any stops in between. By the way, do you know how long until the Log Pose sets?”

“Five days, ten hours and twenty-six minutes,” she said blandly, repeating the number she had been told by several people when she first arrived to Porta Bella. It made her miserable, so of course she wasn’t going to forget it anytime soon.

“And the seconds?”

It took her way longer than necessary to realize he was messing with her. “Oh, fuck off.” She returned her attention to the newspaper so she didn’t have to look at his stupid face while he thought he was so funny. “Fishman Island’s right around the corner. Try not to drown.”

“We have a submarine.” He sounded amused still. Alex couldn’t tell if annoying her gave him that much joy or if he was having an exceptionally good day. He was pretty cranky for a while back in Duster Town, but now that she recalled, his mood seemed to improve every time he got one over her. “I don’t think it’ll be a problem.”

“Regular submarines can’t reach Fishman Island.”

He frowned again. “Why not?”

“It’s too deep. They can’t endure the water pressure.”

She could sense the levity from moments ago was gone by the way his jaw set. “But we heard ships can traverse the Red Line through an underwater route.”

“That’s why you go to Sabaody first.” She was exerting a considerable effort to give these really boring explanations that no one was going to thank her for. “You find yourself a good coating engineer to put a resin bubble around your ship and that’ll protect it.”

He seemed to study this new information from several angles before he spoke. “That’s good to know.”

“You’re welcome.”

He gave her a pointed look, but didn’t say anything about the jab. “Is it easy to find one?”

“There’s an entire section of the archipelago dedicated to it. It’s going to cost you, though. And depending on who you choose, there’ll be a waiting list.”

“Really?”

“Good coating engineers are few and far in between, and nobody wants to find out someone did a half-assed job on their sheep five kilometers underwater.”

“That’s…” He made a meditative pause. “…Reasonable.”

“I thought you were going to say something completely different.”

“It sucks too.”

“Yeah,” she agreed. Her life would be so much easier if one didn’t have to jump through thirty hoops to cross that chunk of rock. “In a hurry to get to the New World?”

He didn’t answer. He didn’t need to, either, because she was busy contemplating a new idea that had sprung in her mind. One that she’d rather avoid if she had other options left, and she wouldn’t know until a few days passed, but... this coincidence could prove to be useful yet.

“What?” He looked at her with suspicion.

“Nothing.” And just to get on his nerves a little, she added. “Yet.”

He fixed his gaze on her face, most likely gauging her intentions. Alex was incapable of looking at people in the eye, but she was good at faking it and not flinching under pressure, so she stared back.

“Do I want to ask?”

“I don’t know. Follow your instincts.”

To her surprise, he dropped it and took a step back from the railing. “I need to go back to the sub and see if the others are up already.”

Good. “For someone with a target so big on you, you wander a lot without them.”

“I like taking walks alone,” he said, like he didn’t think much of it. Like he could not fathom how he of all people could possibly be in danger from anybody else. “See you around?”

Was that a wish, a threat, or a pleasantry? “Without a doubt,” she replied, not bothering to hide the tedium in her voice. Damn empty town and damn slavers. “This town isn’t big enough for the two of us.”

She could have sworn he smiled a little at that, but Law shoved his hands in his pockets and made his leave too fast to see.

He was far enough that he wouldn’t hear her if she spoke in a normal volume when she remembered something important, so she resorted to raising her voice before the Heart crew did something they could regret. “Go to the Old Brewery if you don’t want to die! The Silver Fountain serves piss for drinks!”

He turned to look at her with the same curiosity back when she’d told him weapons weren’t allowed in the library, but this time he nodded in acknowledgement before making his exit.

The other customers on the terrace stared at her warily, but honestly, she couldn’t bring herself to feel bad for them even when the owner immediately came out to ask if she was okay and if the scary surgeon had said anything bad to her. At least something interesting was happening.

❦

Alex had a love-hate relationship with heights.

She inevitably got queasy when she was somewhere high up that didn’t have barriers or anything she could hold onto, but that didn’t stop her from going up there, anyway. It was like a very stupid magnetic pull that one day would end with her skull split open.

(It was the wind and the view. She knew that. It was also one of the few options she had to feel taller than most people.

But mostly the wind.)

The stone arch at the entrance of the town that gave Porta Bella its name was surrounded by the remains of a stone wall. First century, she guessed by the roughness of the stone blocks and the bit of mortar she scraped from between when she inspected it for the first time. It was easily over two meters, and only because the topmost part had fallen off. The blocks that hadn’t been taken away for use in newer constructions were still next to the wall, inviting anyone who’d dare to step on them to use them to climb.

She knew she wasn’t the only idiot who had felt the temptation, because the stone was worn from use. She’d also seen kids running at the top of the wall and no one had tried to stop them, and there were worse ways to channel all the nervous energy she had from reading that newspaper article.

She wasn’t a very proficient climber, but the blocks were positioned in such a way that getting to the top was easy as pie. No doubts someone had moved them for that exact purpose. When she was high enough, she threw a leg over the wall, then the other one, and sat facing the harbor.

The wind was nice up there.

She wouldn’t stand on the wall for all the money in the world and getting down was going to be an ordeal, but that was a problem for the Alex of the future.

That day had woken up to four ships in the harbor, counting the pirates’ submarine. Two would go away at the end of the week. The third was leaving that night. No vessels on the horizon.

She sighed. If the pirates were on an adventure, they sure had the shittiest of lucks docking only in the most boring islands the sea could offer.

With nothing better to do at the moment, and trying to delay as much as possible the moment she’d regret climbing that high, she moved towards the shadow of the arch without lifting her butt from the stone and rested her back against it.

She was at a loss. Sailing further away from the Sabaody Archipelago was counterproductive, but so was staying in the same island for too long, since she had no means of protecting herself if something happened. Then again, if she ended up broke before she got to Sabaody, she’d have to stay in whatever island she was to earn money to keep travelling.

All the options sucked. Maybe she needed to sleep on it to see what the lesser evil was. She had, after all, a few days to make a decision.

She looked at the sea, tinted dark green by her sunglasses, in what she assumed was Sabaody’s direction. So close, yet so far away. The skies were clear and the water calm, and though there weren’t any sailors to be found in the harbor, she could see the shadow of a couple of fishing boats in the distance. Wasn’t there a song that went like that? I'm sittin' on the dock of the bay, wastin' time…

She hummed, looking at nowhere in particular and letting her thoughts drift with the waves.

❦

She knew better than to cut through the lawless areas alone when it was getting late, so she had no one else to fault when she split from her group of classmates after spending their free day in Sabaody Park. It was only her and her stupid pride that didn’t allow her to admit that she didn’t think this was a great idea and that she didn’t want to go back to her room alone.

She broke into a sprint as soon as she heard the smallest rustle behind her, and that advantage proved to be essential, because someone started chasing after her. It sounded like more than one person, but she didn’t have time to look or tell how many sets of footsteps were behind her – she just ran like her life depended on it in the direction of the bridge that connected to the next grove, hoping that there would be other people there, and then—

—then she saw an open bar, a lone building in an even lonelier grove.

She rushed inside it, gasping for air so hard that she couldn’t speak, no matter how much she tried to explain to the bartender why she had barged in like that.

It wasn’t necessary.

“Don’t worry, dear, they’ve been hanging around these parts for a while,” she said, leading her to a chair with a gentle hair. “You’re safe here.” Her warm black eyes turned to someone else, and though Alex had trouble focusing on what was going on, she saw an old man with long white hair. “Why don’t you go take out the trash, Ray? They’ve driven off my clientele enough.”

“Sure,” the man replied, getting up from his stool and going outside.

Alex thought it was a horrible idea to send an old man to fight off a kidnapping crew, but that was because she didn’t know these people yet.

“Don’t worry about him. Here,” the woman gave her a glass of water. “Name’s Shakky. Rest all you need.”

❦

Footsteps approached. She shut up immediately.

“I like that song.”

Singing helped when she had too much anxious energy. It was probably related to breathing control. She had stopped anxiety attacks in the making like that sometimes.

It didn’t help at all when someone had been listening in and she hadn’t noticed.

“Oh. Thanks. Um, hi.”

“Hi,” Bepo said smiling. “I heard from Captain you were here.”

Even though she was sitting on top of the wall, Bepo’s head went past it. If he stood on his tiptoes, he could have rested his head on her legs. On one hand, it was a little aggravating that she had to climb so high up only to be marginally taller than him. On the other, Alex was filled with the urge to scratch his ears.

“Yeah, I’m stuck waiting for a ship,” she told him. “Ideally, you wouldn’t have found me here.”

“Oh? Where are you going?”

“Sabaody.”

“Isn’t that very close? How come you haven’t found a ship?”

“There’s kidnapping crews infesting the waters. You know what those are?”

“Uh… isn’t it in the name?”

Alex blinked. “Right. Don’t mind me.”

He fell into thought for a few seconds. “Why are they kidnapping people?”

“To sell. They get auctioned in the archipelago.”

Bepo frowned. “I see.”

“Hey, don’t worry,” she said, smiling for his sake. “Nothing’s going to happen to your crew. You’re strong.”

He beamed with pride. “Yeah, we are! We’ve been training for years to come here!”

Alex mirrored his expression without thinking. “Your Captain said you’ve been friends since you were kids. Did you—”

“Bepo!” Someone called out. “What are you doing?”

“Ah, sorry!” Bepo said, turning around to see the newcomer. “I was catching up…”

A woman with curly hair and a severe expression walked up to them, hands on her hips, and she looked a little confused when she laid eyes on Alex. She was struggling to place her. “Have we seen each other…?”

“On passing. I’m the Duster Town dumbass that opened the library for your Captain.”

“Oh, yeah, now that you mention it—” The confusion was back. “Isn’t this place a little too far from there?”

“I’m running away from justice.” She didn’t offer further explanation.

Bepo didn’t need it. “So are we!”

A barely contained laugh made it past the woman’s lips. “Oh well, if you’re a fellow criminal…” She extended a hand towards Alex. “Name’s Ikkaku. What did you do, keep too many books past the return date?”

“I wish.” She shook her hand. “Alex.”

“So that’s your name?” Bepo asked.

She turned her attention towards the bear. “I never told you?”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Wow, I am rude,” she said to herself. “Anyway, hope you’re ready to take it easy, because you have five long days ahead of you.”

Ikkaku groaned. “I don’t mind, but some of the guys get so jittery after a couple days on land. I don’t suppose there’s a very active nightlife in this place?”

“Actually, there are two taverns in the entire town.”

“Oh, that sounds like something to keep ‘em busy.”

“I don’t think you want to go to one of them, though.” She wondered if the captain was going to pass the message or they would come to regret their choices. “There’s also an abandoned Marine outpost right outside of town, if they don’t want to be drunk 24/7.”

“Might be worth checking out, but I’m pretty sure they’ll take the ale.”

“Can’t blame them.” She was tempted to drown her sorrows in alcohol, and she barely ever drank.

She took a look around the desolate harbor, the small houses and the half-fallen wall with a disappointed look. “Well…” she began, “Bepo, we need you for the crates. He’s been waiting and he’s cranky enough already after—”

“Ah! Sorry!” He said, bowing at her and looking more upset than the comment would suggest. Maybe they didn’t treat him as well in the sub as she had assumed. When he turned to Alex, he also bowed repeatedly. “I’m really sorry, but I need to go!”

“Sure, no problem!” she said, making an effort to sound lively. She felt so fake when she did that. So customer servicey. “See you!”

As the pirates left, she tried to look at them in a different light. While it wasn’t too difficult to believe they would be mistreating the mink of the crew, even if they hadn’t been unkind while she was watching. He seemed shy. Maybe that was all there was to it? But the reaction seemed a little extreme. She would pay closer attention from then on.

❦

Her privileged observation point let Alex see a lot of things that day. She saw more of the crew coming and going, though they didn’t seem to recognize her, she watched one of the docked ships depart, and she met a cat that tried to get food from her, but after a good back scratch realized she didn’t have anything else to offer and walked away, leaving a lonesome Alex staring at the hand she’d used to pet it, wondering how many parasites it had come in contact with.

She immediately went back to the inn to wash her hands and get dinner.

The rest of the evening was spent looking at her Poneglyph folder and her mostly blank notebook. She had carried with her the transcript of the stone and copied some documentation from the library that could prove useful in deciphering it, but she wasn’t making any headway yet. Very little was known about the ancient language, even less was published, and she wasn’t a cryptographer. So far, she had identified what she thought were punctuation signs separating sentences and one of the names in the text.

In her years working in Harlun, she had seen centuries old coins from a currency before belis, and some of them had the legend around the rim written in different languages. Meaning, she knew how to write the name of the island in that ancient language. That was about it. She had a feeling the script wasn’t pure phonetic, either, and that wasn’t something she could attempt to tackle without cross-referencing.

Porta Bella was a nice place to spend a short vacation, sure, but it was impossible to find any books that might help. She had tried. The local bookstore only carried best sellers, and she would have bought that vampire novel that was getting so popular if money wasn’t so tight and she had space in her bag, but as things were, she had to fight frustration and boredom alone.

She had to face the fact that she wasn’t going to do anything useful that night, either. She took off her reading glasses, thinking that trying to sleep sounded like the best idea. Maybe next morning she’d finally have some good luck and find a ship that wouldn’t carry her too far from the Red Line.

❦

Too early for words, and wearing a flannel shirt as a jacket because it had gotten windy, she strode out of the inn with her paper cup and a new challenge. She had thought herself immune to monotony before this, but she had clearly overestimated her brain’s capability to get distracted by anything.

Instead of walking to the docks following the main road, like every morning, she made for the wall again. Stepping on the fallen rock, she reached up with her left hand to the top of the wall and placed the paper cup as far as she could from her, and then she climbed up like the previous day. Well, she tried to, because for some reason early in the morning she didn’t have a lot of hand strength, and she felt a stabbing pain in one of her knees when she stretched her leg to reach the wall.

It took two tries and the fear of having lost her first morning tea, but she got where she wanted.

Cross-legged, she sat on the wall and took sips of her drink while inspecting the docks. No new ships in sight. That time there was someone walking on one of the submarine’s decks, but she couldn’t make out their face, and she didn’t know most of the crew anyway.

The wind had driven all the clouds away, and the dark shadow on the horizon reminded her of how close she had been to getting to the New World before she had to reconsider the entire strategy.

She was about to sigh, but she sensed someone near her vicinity even before she heard the crunch of gravel, so she kept it to herself and looked over her shoulder.

That silly hat was becoming a familiar sight. Trafalgar Law looked up at her from a reasonable distance, having just noticed her. Please don’t get any closer, please—

He changed course and went towards Alex, who didn’t bother to hide how little she appreciated the company less than an hour after waking up.

“Morning walk?” she asked, or grunted, depending on who you asked.

“Yeah,” he replied, annoyingly awake. “What are you doing there?”

“Wasting time.”

Someone with a little more tact, or at least who cared about having it, would have taken a hint and left, but this was not the case. “I want to hear more about Sabaody.”

Oh, she wasn’t nearly awake enough for this, but she made an effort to not be outright rude. “Okay,” she relented. “But you ask me questions, I don’t want to think.”

That was good enough for him, it seemed. With irritating ease, and without having to step on the fallen stone, he boosted himself up against the wall and climbed it in a matter of seconds.

Something caught his attention when he looked up, and he stood up on the stone like the concepts of acrophobia and losing one’s balance were but a faraway ping in his radar. Alex’s mood was souring by the second, granted, a likely thing to happen at that hour. It wasn’t personal.

“Is that…?”

She turned to look in the same direction he was.

“Yeah. Red Line.”

“I didn’t think it was so close.”

“It’s a few days away still. It’s just that big.” She thought of the times she’d been at the base. It was impossible to see the top from its bottom. And, considering what lay up there, perhaps it was for the better. “You saw it from the other side, I guess?” North Blue was adjacent to the New World. In a sense, both of them were from the same side of the Line. How weird to think that they had anything in common.

“Yeah. We entered the Grand Line through Reverse Mountain.”

Expected, but incomprehensible to her unless he had a death wish. “Ships sink there every day. What do you want so bad that you’d risk that?”

“Wasn’t I the one asking the questions?” he shot back.

She gave him a deadpan look, then looked at the cup between her hands. It wasn’t doing much to drive away the numbness of her fingers. How many people had gone out to sea since the Great Age of Piracy began and failed because they bit more than they could chew? And they weren’t the only ones dying. For every decent man that got a ship and called himself a captain, there were ten whose only interest was pillaging villages and getting rich. Was that massive chain reaction what Gold Roger had intended with its final speech? Had it been a final fuck you to world order, or was there something else behind it?

She had contradicting thoughts about it. Roger’s last words had unarguably made the world worse, but…

Well.

The guy had been a badass. Even she wasn’t immune to seeing that. With every new pirate crew that sailed to Reverse Mountain to test its fortune, he kept proving how much bigger than life he had been. Twenty years down the line, he had become as much of a legend as the tales of gods from islands in the sky. The kind of legacy a regular person only dreams of having.

He said, I will never die.

He had been more right than he knew.

She looked at Trafalgar with renewed curiosity. “Are you trying to become Pirate King too?”

He didn’t give a clear answer, despite how easy of a question it was. “What if I am?”

It wasn’t a no. A straight yes would get many pirates laughed out of town even in a place like the Grand Line. There wasn’t a lot of room for romantic ideas of piracy when civilians lived in fear of black flags showing up one day at the port and taking away everything they had.

“Just curious.” She wasn’t feeling articulate enough to explain where she was going to herself, much less him. “Nothing wrong with dreaming big.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, she felt like she had called herself out. Where was she going? After Sabaody, after crossing the Red Line, after getting to her hometown? Those were only checkpoints. But where was her purpose? Inside the bag she had in her room at the inn, or somewhere else?

An awkward silence stretched along with the horizon. For some reason, he decided not to press her for answers and sat down. A small mercy for Alex’s neck.

“After the Log Pose sets, it will point to Fishman Island. How do we get to Sabaody first?”

It was a relief to be able to give an answer she didn’t have to think about. “It should be visible when you’re close enough to the Red Line. It looks like a random cluster of trees popped up in the middle of the ocean.”

“That’s it? Is it safe to dock anywhere?”

“Mostly. The archipelago is made up of 80 groves. 60 to 69 house a Marine garrison, and that’s where the ferries to Marineford and Mary Geoise leave from, so you don’t want to be there. Other than that…” She had to strain to remember the range of numbers. “20 to 29 is the only lawless area open to sea, so you know Marines won’t go there, but since no one’s keeping watch, the competition might try to sabotage you. I don’t know, I never had to worry about that sort of thing.”

“I’m not afraid of other crews,” he said with that devil may care attitude that got pirates killed left and right. “We haven’t come this far without knowing how to defend our ship.”

She wasn’t going to argue his point. “I’m just saying what I know. You do you.” But she took note to keep her opinions to herself, lest he had the urge to express how full of himself he was again.

He looked at her like he was trying to figure out what sort of hidden meaning her noncommittal response held, but little did he know that behind the sleepy façade her prevailing thought was it’s too early for this shit.

“You said you spent some time in the archipelago.” It wasn’t worded like a question, but it was a way to probe for info. She supposed that she would have wanted to know the credentials of her sources, had she been in his position.

She hummed. “I lived there a few years.”

Taking a sip from the cup, she returned her attention towards the outline in the horizon. It had been a constant part of the scenery back then, always peeking out from behind the trees and buildings of the groves closest to the shore. A grim reminder, on one hand, of those who lived above the peasants, but at the same time, Sabaody had been… fun. There was always something happening. Moderately dangerous, but always entertaining. She had forgotten how that felt after the years of routine in Duster Town.

A question brought her out of her thoughts. “Are you from this area?”

“Oh, no,” she said, surprised that he had even entertained the idea. “No, I got a scholarship to study in one of the World Government’s academies. I’m from the other side of the Red Line.”

“From the New World?” He said with surprise, and mulled over this new piece of information until it fit satisfactorily in whatever picture of her he had constructed in his mind. “So that’s where the accent’s from.”

It was unexpected comment after unexpected comment. “Excuse me?” she replied in an incredulous tone. “You are the one with a heavy accent.”

Now it was him who got caught off guard. “That’s not true,” he retorted. He looked like he was trying to determine if she was pulling his leg.

“Yes it is,” she insisted. “Everybody has an accent. You and your crew have that typical northern one that sounds like you’re about to shank the person you’re saying hello to.”

For a moment, she thought he had offended him to the point of silence. Just for a moment, because he didn’t take long to counter with, “You sound like you’re trying to whisper through a megaphone.”

She snorted with laughter as soon as the words sunk in. It was true that she spoke in a low voice most of the time. “If that isn’t the best description of Dressrosan I’ve heard—”

She felt an immediate change in atmosphere, like an electric current shooting through the air, and shut up as a precaution.

Trafalgar has tensed up all of a sudden and was staring at her like she had grown a second head, like she was trying to set her on fire with a glare, or both. “What did you say?”

She found herself tensing up in return, even though she didn’t know what she had done. But when a dangerous guy scowled at you like that, survival instincts kicked in. Goodbye sleepiness, and welcome life danger. “Um… Dressrosan?” She eyed him warily. “My mother tongue?”

His eyes grew wider, but other than that, his expression didn’t change much. “You’re from Dressrosa?”

She suddenly understood. It wasn’t the first time she got odd reactions when she said where she was from, but it had been a while. “Oh, right.” She sighed. “You’ve heard of the whole Doflamingo thing.”

Or… maybe she was wrong. He seemed a little out of it, like he was looking past her at… who knew what was in his head.

After a few seconds without a reply, she deemed it safe to speak. “Did I say anything wrong?”

“…No. I was just surprised.” After that, he seemed to go back to normal, though his voice sounded a little strained. He was still tense. “It’s a long way there.”

Suspicious. Did he know someone from there? “It’s not so much the distance as having the Red Line in the way. Getting permission to cross it takes time.” And she figured that she had run out of it.

“How’s the country?” He asked in a way that tried to sound casual, and maybe, maybe would have worked if he hadn’t made clear already that he had a particular interest in it. “Being ruled by pirates and all.”

She made a disgruntled sound. She had signed up to answer questions about the Sabaody Archipelago, not Dressrosa. There was a reason why she hadn’t been home in ages. “It’s doing fine. Better than fine, in fact. Economy is booming. People are happy.” She delivered each sentence in a quick, clipped tone. “It pisses me off.”

“Why?”

Because she always had to be the odd one out, she thought. And this guy wasn’t getting the message that she didn’t want to talk about it. “Doflamingo doesn’t deserve that kind of credit. He and his crew should go back to the hole they crawled out of.”

He huffed. “North Blue’s had enough of him already.”

Animosity was dripping from his words, and that made her feel a little less displeased and a lot more interested in what he had to say. He could’ve seen firsthand the repercussions of Doflamingo’s actions there.

“That’s true.” She didn’t know much about the specifics, but there was a reason the North Blue was considered the most dangerous out of the four cardinal seas. “I guess he did a number there before he moved onto the Grand Line.”

“You don’t sound very fond of him either.”

Look at that, a flat out admission of having feelings about someone.

“He’s scum,” she said with more venom than she had meant to. “He dethroned the king only to take over himself, reinstated gladiator fights to death, and he has a trafficking empire. The Human Auctioning House in Sabaody displays his Jolly Roger openly. But he’s a Warlord. As long as money keeps flowing and the Celestial Dragons can buy new pets, nobody seems to care.”

“And you do? You say your country’s doing well.”

She didn’t know whether to reply honestly or not. He was trying to dig deeper than she was comfortable with answering, but she was on a roll already. “Dressrosa used to be a very poor country. I’m not blaming the people who have a better life now, but I don’t think you can build anything stable from corruption. Someone will topple Doflamingo one day, and the country will go down with him.” Her tone was increasingly becoming more determined. “And when the time comes, I hope they get rid of kings once and for all.”

“You lost me at that last part.”

“Monarchy is an obsolete form of government. How’s the world going to get rid of the Celestial Dragons if we can’t even get rid of the pests at home?”

He stared at her blankly, and that was when she realized she had talked too much and looked away from him. Ah, to be a life form capable of fusing with granite and dying in the spot…

She heard a short, muffled laugh, and glanced at him. Great, a pirate making fun of her was exactly what she needed to start her day.

“Can’t say I took you for an anarchist.” He was smirking.

“What part of ‘fuck the government’ was unclear?” she replied, still avoiding to look at him. “The more time you spend near Mary Geoise, the more you realize everything has to burn down. Then there are the Marines.” A lost cause. “It’s even their combined fault that I’m stuck here.”

“What do you mean?” He sounded relaxed again. It was like he hadn’t been acting like a weirdo through the entire conversation about Dressrosa. “Aren’t you just waiting for a ship?”

She took a long breath in preparation to give the same explanation she’d been getting every time she spoke to a newly arrived sailor. “Kidnapping crews are infesting the waters ahead. Normal ships don’t want to go near Sabaody because there’s going to be a human auction next week. Marines aren’t helping because the government benefits from the slave trade, and I assume the Enies Lobby debacle has hit them hard. I already told Bepo you don’t have to worry about it, though. They only attack pirates if they think they’re weaklings.” And trying to change the subject to something that didn’t force her to wallow in her misery, she asked, “How much was it already, Mr. Supernova?”

He looked awfully satisfied with his title. “It’s not Trafalgar anymore?”

“I’ve always liked stars.” And speaking of Bepo, she remembered something from their conversation the day before. “By the way, I don’t think I introduced myself. I’m—”

“Bepo told me. I like Librarian-ya better.”

She had an urge to fling what was left of her tea at him, but she held back at the expense of looking away and letting a strained smile show. Not worth the loss of beverage. It wasn’t going to stop him from being an early morning smartass.

The silence that ensued this time didn’t feel as uncomfortable as before, but that bar was so low, it might as well have been underground.

#degrees of separation #tried to post this draft from mobile and the formatting imploded #why is tumblr so

[feisty-fae]

If you still do the flower ask thingys.. 👉👈 𝘼𝙡𝙡 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢 𝙜𝙤 :)

HoooH boY hEre we gO-

Alisons: Sexuality?

I sexually identify as a can of beans

Amaranth: Pronouns/Gender?

Cis female she/her

Amaryllis: Birthday?

27 September

Anemone: Favorite flower?

All flowers pretty,, but stargazer lily, rose, dahlia and cherry blossoms

Angelonia: Favorite t.v. show?

I don't watch tv but I'll list some other stuff i like to watch:mha, beastars and aggretsuko

Arum-Lily: What’s the farthest you’d go for a stranger?

Idk depends on scenario??

Aster: What’s one of your favorite quotes?

"Kanye West he likes, fingers in his ass."

Aubrieta: Favorite drink?

Any Milkshakes or smoothies (mostly banana and strawberry for milkshake and p much anything for smoothie)

Baby’s Breath: Would you kiss the last person you kissed again?

I've never had kith

Balsam Fir: Have you ever been in love?

Well you see yes but actually no

Baneberries: Favorite song?

I listen to a lot but to keep it short:baby in the kitchen, in my mouth and friends slowed (chase atlantic)

Basket of Gold: Describe your family.

We p chill fam

Beebalm: Do you have a best friend? Who is it?

Irl bestie,, shes not on tumblr lol

Begonia: Favorite color?

PinKKK

But i like most colours

Bellflower: Favorite animal?

Cats,,,,

FoxES,

ANYTHING CUDDLY AND CUTE

Bergenia: Are you a morning or night person?

Night

Black-Eyed Susan: If you could be any animal for a day, what would it be?

I'd be like a doggo bc it would be the most fun i think-

Bloodroots: When you were a kid, what did you want to be when you grew up?

I wanted to be a vet but then when my granny asked me "but whos gonna clean up the animal poop?" I was like "eWW pO0pP!" and then decided that mayb i shouldn't be a vet

Bluemink: What are your thoughts on children?

They're either really kind and sweet

Or literal demons from hell

Legit no inbetween

Blazing Stars: What are you afraid of? Is there a reason why?

I'm afraid of lot of things-

Borage: Give a random fact about your childhood.

I was one dumbass bitcg-

Bugleherb: How would you spend your last day on Earth?

Idk eat pizza and cry or smth ajakamkw

Buttercup: Relationship Status?

Single

Camelia: If you could visit anywhere, where would you want to go?

NEW YORKKK, CONCRETE JUNGLE WHERE DREAMS ARE MADE OFFF THERE'S NOTHING YOU CAN'T DO NOW YOU'RE IN NEW YOOORKKK

Candytufts: When do you feel most loved?

When someone hugs me or just generally spends time with me

Canna: Do you have any tattoos?

Nop

Canterbury Bells: Do you have any piercings?

I used to have piercings when i was a bab but eHh haven't worn them since and i dont think my ear holes are big enough now-

California Poppy: Height?

4'10 grrr I'm the omega midget and I'll devour ur ankles

Cardinal Flower: Do you believe in ghosts?

Nop

Carnation: What are you currently wearing?

Pant, pink top and black hoodie

Catnip: Have you ever slept with a nightlight?

I think i have??

Chives: Who was the last person you hugged?

My mom and my dad

Chrysanthemum: Who’s the last person you kissed?

I never kith

Cock’s Comb: Favorite font?

I dont have one so imma say sans bc it always looks out of place and makes me laugh-

Columbine: Are you tired?

No

I feel like screaming and jumping around my room like a crackhead

Common Boneset: What are you looking forward to?

Nothing in particular ig

Coneflower: Dream job?

Smth kinda fun and art or design related hopefully,,,,

Crane’s-Bill: Introvert or extrovert?

Introvert but i also get lonley easily

Crocus: Have you ever been in love?

Nop,,,,

Crown Imperial: What’s the farthest you would go for someone you care about?

I would get run over by 5 monster trucks, jump off a plane, get mauled by 10 bears, get trampled on by a stampede, get brutally tortured for 12 hours straight, yeet myself into the Grand Canyon and then break all my bones with my bare hands if they weren't broken already

Ok basically i care a lot

Cyclamen: Did you have a favorite stuffed animal as a child? What was it?

I had this st bernard plush called Sparky and this lion named Sammy,,

Daffodil: What’s your zodiac sign?

Libra

Dahlia: Have you done anything worth remembering?

My memory is legit so bad it's probably concerning uHHH

Daisy: What do you feel is your greatest accomplishment?

Mayb art??

Daylily: What would you do if your parents didn’t like your partner(s)?

Ehhh i might reason with them and then if they still disagreed I'd just keep the relationship a secret

Dendrobium: Who is the last person that you said “I love you” to?

My parents

False Goat’s Beard: What is something you are good at?

Ehhh arT

Foxgloves: What’s something you’re bad at?

EhhHh everything that isn't art-

Freesia: What are three good things that have happened in the past month?

Oh boy here comes my shitty memory-

Hmmm

Idk but I'm mostly happy that I've been more social and stuff and i feel like im kinda coming out of my shell a bit

Not sure what to say for other 2 bc nothing in particular has really happend?

Garden Cosmos: How was your day today?

Ehhh oK??

Gardenia: Are you happy with where you’re at in your life?

Mayhapsn't

Gladiolus: What is something you hope to do in the next year or two?

I hope to pass all my exams and get an okish job mayb

Glory-of-the-Snow: What are ten things that make you happy/you’re grateful to have in your life?

1.fRIENBS ILY MY HABIBIS

2. Fammm

3. eHhh yummy food,,

4. Drawing and uhhh art

5. EPIC MUTUALS

6. Ok idk what else aside from like serious stuff like house and etc.-

Heliotropium: What helps you calm down when you feel stressed?

Drawing, crying, venting to a friend/parent

Hellebore: How do you show affection?

Hugssss,kith,cuddle, *draws u stuff*

Hoary Stock: What are you proudest of?

MmmmmMy aRRt?

Hollyhock: Describe your ideal day.

Wake up

Don't go to school

Vibe with friends

Sleeb

Hyacinth: What do you like to do in your free time?

MmMmMM aRT-

Hydrangea: How long have you known your best friend? How did you meet them?

Ehh 8yrs? We met in hell school

Irises: Who can you talk to about (almost) everything?

Friendos

Mom

Laceleaf: How many friends do you have?

6..?? Aa idk theres some people that idk if they'd consider me a friend or not,,

Lantanas: What’s the best compliment you’ve ever received?

Idk any compliment is best compliment for me,,

Larkspur: What do you think of yourself?

Ew yucky gröss

Lavender: What’s your favorite thing about yourself?

m y a r t

Also my hair bc its soft and wavy,,

Leather Flower: What’s your least favorite thing about yourself?

Everything else-

Lilac: What’s something you liked to do as a child?

Climb trees and do dumb shit

Lily: Who was your best friend when you were a kid?

Same irl bestie i mentioned before

Lily of the Incas: What is something you still feel guilty for?

MmmmmmMMM,,,

Lily of the Nile: What is something you feel guilty for that you shouldn’t feel guilty about?

MMMmMMmMMMMmmmMMm,,,,,,

Lupine: What does your name mean? Why is that your name?

Well I chose Fae bc i thought it sounded pretty

Marigold: Where did you grow up? Tell us about it.

Idk what to rlly say lmao

Morning Glory: What was your bedroom like growing up?

Kinda the same but i had toys everywhere-

Also when i was like 5 i had this legit fucking cursed thomas the tank engine shaped bed that i actually found a pic of but it's FUCKING HORRIFYING SO I PROBS WONT SHOW HERE-

Mugworts: What was it like for you as a teenager? Did you enjoy your teenage years?

EW BEING A TEENAGER SUCKS ASS HOW DO I UNDO????

Norwegian Angelica: Tell us about your mom.

Hi mom ily ur epic

Onions: Tell about your dad.

Hi dad ily ur epic

Orchid: Tell about your grandparents.

Omg i miss my grannies sm bc i couldn't see em this year bc nasty pandemic

Pansy: What was your most memorable birthday? What made it be so memorable?

Haha shit memory gor brrRR-

I don't really remember too many specific parties but when i was like 7-10 i had these epic parties in those birthday places with the giant play areas

I kinda wish i wasn't too old to go to them sobs

Peony: What was your first job?

I haven't had a job yet

Petunia: If you’re in a relationship, how did you meet your partner(s)? If you’re not in a relationship, how did you meet your crush/how do you hope to meet your future partner(s), if you want any?

Hmmmm idk? I haven't really thought abt that but i don't really mind i just wanna find someone to vibe with,,

Pincushion: How do you deal with pain?

I cri

Pink: Where is home?

Home is home home

Plantain Lilies: If you could go back in time, what is one thing you would stop/change?

Now where do i start...

Prairie Gentian: Who is someone you look up to? Describe them.

I look up to people that are kind, caring, brave, funny, cool or stronger than me ig?

Primrose: Describe your ideal life.

Basically my current life minus school, stress,pandemic and responsibilities lmao

Rhodendron: What is something you used to believe in as a child?

I used to believe in ghosts after i thought i encountered one

Ricinus: Who’s the most important in your life?

Hermmmst

Rose: What’s your favorite sound?

Peoples laughsss also music

Rosemallows: What’s your favorite memory?

Bro i dont have one,, my aphantasia makes it hard for me to remember stuff-

Sage: What’s your least favorite memory?

A

Snapdragon: At this moment, what do you want?

I wantttt better chargersss thattt donttt telll meee thatt myyy tablett will finishh chargingg innn 1 dayy andd 7 hoursss

St. John’s Wort: Is it easy or difficult for you to express how you feel about things?

Kinda difficult but im opening up more

Sunflower: What is something you don’t want to imagine life without?

fRIENDS,,,,,wAh

Sweet Pea: How much sleep did you get last night?

8 hrs

Tickseed: What’s your main reason to get up every morning?

Idk ig i kinda have to go to school and do stuff

Touch-Me-Not: How do you feel about your current job?

Non existant

Transvaal Daisy: What’s your favorite item of clothing?

My black and white stripy top, and all my hoodiess

Tropical White Morning Glory: Describe your aesthetic.

I don't think i have just one aesthetic bc im drawn to so many different aesthetics at the same time-

Like vintage, neon, dark, spoopy, pastel, cute, etc etc

Tulip: What would be the best present to get you?

OMG I LEGIT JUST SCREAM AT ANYTHING ANYONE GIVES ME-

IF SOMEONE GOES OUT OF THEIR WAY TO MAKE ME SMTH I CRY,,

Vervain: What’s stressing you out most right now?

🤏

Wisteria: How many books have you read in the past few months? What were they called?

I haven't been reading anythinggg

But i should really finish reading Percy Jackson bc it do be picking up dust-

Wolf’s Bane: Where do you want to be in life this time next year?

Everywhere

Yarrow: Do you know what vore is?

Mmm yummy 👅

Zinnia: Give a random fact about yourself.

I am currently living and breathing yes

[staycatcher]

Anguish 001- Anguish

“Out  of  genuine  free  will,  I,  Lee  Minho,  exercise  the  divine  right  to  reject  my  sacredly  designed  soulmate.”

Member: Lee  Minho / Lee  Know  x  Femme  Reader  (she / her)

Au: Frat Boi! Minho  +  Rejected  Soulmate  AU

Genre: Angst  (some  comedy?,,  this  series  is  gonna  be  angsty  because  of  the  whole  ‘rejected  soulmate’  thing)

Rated  T  for  a  whole  lotta  swearing,  a  frat  party,  crowds,  usage  of  alcohol  and  mentions  of  drugs,  intensity,  reader  is  a  bit  socially  anxious (please  lmk  if  any  other  warnings  are  needed!💞🥺)

Word Count:  4k  &  manually  double  spaced  between  words  &  paragraphs  for  ease  of  reading!!!!🥵🤠🥰

Note: this is dedicated to @trixareforlix, they’re the first-ever friend I made on here and they’re the one who sparked this frat au idea!! Ilysm always angel!!<33

Edited: 201015 (Original: 190813 )

Anguish series 1/?-  ~001~, 002

The  anticipated  day  where  you’d  become  magnetized,  the  world  around  you  becoming  a  blur,  your  heart  falling  into  perfect  sync  with  the  one  destined  for  you  truly… was  not  like  that  at  all,  actually!  No,  the  stars  were  cruel  to you,  perhaps  you  did  something  awful  in  your  past  life  to   deserve  this,  but  maybe  what  is  more  likely  is  that  your  soulmate’s  just  an  asshole.  After  all,  one’s  soulmate  was  the  complete  opposite  of  one’s  self.  Soulmates  were  the  yin  to  one’s  yang  and  vice  versa  and  all  that.  To  keep  one  balanced,  or  whatever. 

Now,  you  aren’t  the  angel  everyone  may  claim  you  to  be.  You  weren’t  angelic,  not  at  all.  Eating  ice  cream  for  breakfast  was  not  above  you.  Your  nail  polish  was  perpetually  chipped.  You  couldn’t  stand  to  keep  your  hair  in  the  same  style  for  too  long;  chopping  it  all  off  or  seeing  how  long  it  could  grow,  dying  it  as  bright  as  you  could,  and  everything  in  between.  You  adorned  yourself  with  two  or  three  more  piercings  than  your  parents  could  get  behind,  bless  them,  you’re  beginning  to  have  trouble  hiding  your  new  tattoo.  Habitually,  you  were  sensitive,  soft,  a  bit  emotional,  and  tended  to  be  a  bit  of  a  smartass.  You  weren’t  blessed  with  physical  grace,  ceaselessly  tripping  over  yourself,  spilling  and  knocking  over  anything  in  your  path,  and  dancing  out  of  beat  to  blasted  songs. 

More  often  than  not,  you  would  go  to  bed  later  than  planned.  Tonight  was  one  of  those  nights,  but  it  was  not  because  of  your  natural  preference.  You  were  not  too  figuratively  dragged  into  this  by  someone  who  held  the  title  of  your  best  friend,  someone  whom  you  were  currently  thinking  of  ways  of  revoking  that  title  from. 

  “C’mon,  dummy!  We’re  almost  there!”  Jamie  elbowed  you,  her  eyes  crinkled  in  laughter,  whacking  you  on  the  back  a  bit  too  hard. 

 “Jamie,  I  must’ve  forgotten,  but  why’re  you  even  dragging me  to  this  frat  party  again?  Why  not  just  go  to  your  sorority  instead?”  You  groaned,  your  two  left  feet  were  dragging  behind  you  on  the  aged  sidewalk,  your  fake  Doc  Martens  feeling  like  cinder  blocks. 

“‘Cause  Chris  invited  me  and  he’s  being  a  little  bitch  about  it  because  I  keep  canceling  on  ‘im!  He  keeps  saying  that  my  soulmate  might  be  there!”  She  reminded  you  for  the  umpteenth  time,  rolling  her  head  and  eyes  back  in  frustration,  sighing  before  continuing.  “And  now  it’s  like-  I  might  as  well  try  and  see!  I  mean,  come  on!~  I’m  starting  to  think  he’s  right!”  And  for  the  umpteenth  time  today,  you  question  why  she’s  falling  for  this.  She’s  sharper  than  this.  But  for  some  reason,  just  this  once,  she  found  a way  to  shoehorn  Chris’s  dumbassery  to  logic. 

 In  reality,  you  could  meet  your  soulmate  at  any  time  or  place,  so  to  say  that  one's  soulmate  might  be  there  is  like  saying  it  might  rain.  Sure,  it  might.  But  it  also  can  rain  in  any  season  so  you  can’t  be  wrong  with  saying  that  it  might.  It  doesn’t  always  rain  every  day,  all  the  time,  so  it  also  isn’t  that  likely.  Rain  depends  on  a  lot  more  factors.  But  right  now,  you’re  a  little  buzzed,  so  it  sounded  pretty  sound. 

 “So  he  knows  your  soulmate?” 

 “I’d  hope  so!  If  not,  I’d  rip  his  bleached  hay-hair  right  out  of  his  thick  skull!”  Now,  this  is  the  Jamie  you  knew  and  loved,  you  couldn't  help  the  endeared  smile  on  your  face.  “When  we  could’ve  been  eating  takeout  and  watching  a  musical-“

 “So  which  frat  are  we  going  to  again?”  You  had  to  interrupt  her  for  her  sake.  Takeout  and  a  movie  would  always  remain  superior  to  parties  in  your  mind  and  you  already  didn’t  want  to  be  accompanying  her  to  a  frat  house. 

 “Hmm…  It’s  like-  uh...  Signal  kite  zing-  wait  no-  hold  on-“

You  guys  must  be  tipsier  from  the  pregaming  than  you  thought.  “Sigma?  ‘Signal’  isn’t  greek,  I  think  you  mean  sigma!  And  ‘kite’  isn-”

 “Right,  whatever!  Anyways,  the  abbreviation  is  SKZ-“

 “Ohhh!  We’re  friends  with  some  of  them-  We’re  like  best  friends  with  Chris!!  Why  didn’t  you  say  it  was  Chris’s  frat  in  the  first  place?”  Your  laugh  projecting  out  of  you  unattractively  with  claps  and  swings  of  limbs  which  led  to  slapping  a  little  too  hard  at  Jamie's  shoulder.  This  clarification  did  make  you  feel  a  bit  better.  This  wasn’t  a  shitty  fraternity  you  didn’t  know,  this  was  a  shitty  fraternity  you  inevitably  tolerated  since  you  knew  and  even  approved  of  some  of  its  members! 

 SKZ  was  home  to  a  hodgepodge  of  eight  brothers  who  were  pretty  individual  as  far  as  frat  dudes  go.  Some  of  which  you  were  genuinely  fond  of,  like  Chris,  or  simply  acquainted  with,  like  Jisung,  whom  you  shared  a major  and  program  with.  Others,  you  couldn’t  even  remember  the  names  of  or  who  they  are  in  general.  It’s  also  the  smallest  frat  on  campus,  so  they  try  to  get  as  many  people  to  come  to  events  as  possible,  which  is  honestly  exhausting  as  a  concept  to  your  introverted  self.  Thus,  you’ve  never  actually  attended  one  of  theirs  until  now,  now  that  Jamie  is  dragging  you  along  with  her.

 “Ow!  I  don’t  know!~  I  thought  you  were  smart  enough  to  figure  it  out  when  I  mentioned  Chris!”  She  teased,  making  the  two  of  you  laugh  harder,  you  couldn’t  defend  yourself  on  that  one.  The  two  of  you  just  continued  your  idiotic  banter  the  rest  of  the  way  to  the  Sigma  Kappa  Zeta  house  aka  the  SKZ  frat.  

 The  walk  to  SKZ’s  lair  was  a  bit  much,  more  than  you  and  Jamie  bargained  for.  You  were  so  kindly  carrying  her  platforms  for  her  until  she’ll  put  them  back  on  again,  only  for  you  to  probably  end  up  kindly  carrying  them  again  later  tonight.  The  cool  breeze  of  the  September  night  helped  with  the  humidity  and  sweat,  and  the  sun  beautifully  set,  leaving  a  delicate  lilac  color  in  its  wake  which  was  becoming  darker  and  darker  the  further  you  walked.  The  hazy  streetlights  added  to  the  whimsy  atmosphere,  yet  to  be  ruined  with  the  sound  of  an  intolerable  amount  of  bass  and  the  overbearing  smell  of  beer  and  weed  when  the two  of  you  arrived  on  site.  

 “Okay,  I’m  pretty  sure  it’s  this  house!”  Jamie  halted  her  steps,  turning  towards  you,  her  hair  swaying  along  with  the  belled  sleeves  of  her  mesh  turtleneck  she  had  under  her  dress.  The  two  of  you  really  dolled  yourselves  up  for  the  night,  her  hair  was  perfect,  your  hair  was  perfect,  outside  was  perfect,  and  it  brought  you  sobering  back  to  the  not-so-perfect  earth.  The  idea  of  going  inside  a  suffocating,  putrid  house  majorly  crowded  with  drunk  and  hormonal  peers...  was  not  appealing  to  you  in  the  least.   

 “Yup,  and  now  it’s  time  to  turn  back  around!”  You  quipped,  ensnaring  her  arm  with  your  empty  one,  about  to  steer  the  two  of  you  in  a  three-point-turn.  This  was  your  final  chance  at  getting  out  of  your  predicament,  and  now  that  you’re  here  you  regret  playing  along.  Sadly,  Jamie  was  just  as  stubborn  as  you,  and  your  turn  around  was  met  with  a  roadblock. 

 “Oh  my  god,  Y/n,  you’re  joking!  We  walked  the  whole  ass  way  here!”  She  got  out  in  between  puffs  of  airy  frustration,  her  socked  heels  digging  into  the  ground  as  you  attempted,  gracelessly,  to  steer  the  two  of  you  around.    

 “Okay,  okay,  fine.  We  did  come  all  this  way  and  now  our  drinks’ve  worn  off.”  You  acknowledged  with  an  irritated  huff.  “Okay-  how  about  we  go  in  and  get  some  drinks,  and  then  we’ll  leave?!”  Your  pitch  going  up  with  each  word  of  your  attempt  to  negotiate  before  forcing  out  a  chuckle,  your  laugh  did  its  best  to  hide  the  fact  that  your  body  was  beginning  to  stick  with  sweat  and  anxiety. 

“No,  ‘and  then’  we’ll  find  Chris  to  hook  me  up!”  She  playfully  fought  back  but  it  was  hard  to  take  her  seriously,  or  yourself,  with  how  the  two  of  you  were  laughing,  hers  genuine,  yours  not  so  much.  

 “Jesus  Christ,  you  really  are  set  on  this  ‘finding  your  soulmate’  thing.”  You  breathed.  As  much  as  you  hated  social  gatherings,  you  loved  your  best  friend  much,  much  more,  therefore  you  were  willing  to  be  won  over  in  the  name  of  friendship.  Though,  she  would  owe  you  for  this!  Fortunately  for  her,  food  and  drink  is  fair  trade  in  you  and  your  wallet’s  eyes. 

 “I’m  lonely,  okay!  I’d  prefer  winning  the  lottery  but  this  is  the  next  best  thing!”  Jamie,  as  per  usual,  brought  the  two  you  back  right  to  laughter  instantly.  She  had  her  mind  made  up.  Plus,  with  you  giggling  it  made  it  all  the  easier  for  her  to  haul  the  both  of  you  right  up  the  steps  of  the  SKZ  Frat  House  stairs.   

Once  in,  Jamie  stuck  close  to  your  side,  literally,  but  not  that  she  had  the  natural  choice  or  much  of  an  alternative;  this  place  was  packed  to   the  gills!  Jumping  up  on  her  now  platform  clad  feet,  looking  for  anyone  she  recognized  or  any  signs  of  Chris,  while  you  led  the  two  of  you,  hopefully,  to  a  kitchen.  You  were  practically  kicking  yourself  each  step  of  the  way  as  you  shoved  your  way  through  the  crowd.  The  air  was  stuffy  and  possibly  even  toxic,  to  say  the  least.  The  scent  is  much  more  foul  than  last  you  remember,  pungent  with  alcohol,  sweat,  cigarettes,  weed,  hints  of  puke,  and  dashes  of  all  sorts  of  pheromones.  Despite  the  few  times  you’ve  smelled  this  scent,  it  never  failed  to  make  you  wish  you  didn’t  leave  your  safe,  sanitary  bed.   

 There’s  jabbing  elbows  and  flailing  parts  of  strangers  everywhere  that  had  to  be  watched  out  and  dodged  for,  sloshing  cups,  sometimes  drunken  flirtatious  hands  grabbing  at  you,  not  at  all  fazed  by  the  pretty  companion  you  had  your  elbow  linked  with.  The  sway  of  the  hoards  of  people  was  beginning  to  get  you  motion  sick,  but  you  were  determined  to  keep  wading  through,  trying  to  hike  through  this  high  tide,  but  you  couldn’t  help  but  feel  vulnerable.  You  were  cursed  with  a  soft,  approachable  face  that  just  begged  to  be  messed  with.  Even  in  times  like  these,  where  your  thoughts  are  nothing  short  of  bitchy,  the  message  would  never  get  across  with  a  resting  bitch  face.  Your  love  for  dark  attire  didn’t  matter.  Your  baby  face  and  aura  won  every  match.  Not  even  the  eyeliner  and  dark  lipstick  you  preferred  could  save  you.  All  you  could  do  is  hope  that  your  best  friend’s  intimidation  and  delightfully  loud  presence  was  enough  for  the  two  of  you  as  you  keep  planting  one  foot  after  the  other.  

“Fucking  hell!”  You  barely  gasped  out,  finally  freed  out  of  the  main  room,  and  now  into  the  hallway.  The  seasick  claustrophobia  no  longer  had  its  poisonous  grips  on  your  soft,  easy  to  bruise  skin,  though,  you  did  need  to  catch  your  breath.  

 “Finally!”  Jamie  sighed  loudly  and  melodically,  patting  you  on  the  back  and  easily  recovering.  Before  she  headed  straight  into  the kitchen  to  scope  out  the  place,  possibly  for  anyone  she  knew  and,  perhaps,  her   Special  Someone.  

 “So  did  ya  see  anyone  you  knew,  Jame?”  You  called  after  her  upon  entering  what  appeared  to  be  a  stereotypical  scene  of  the  kitchen  during  a  college  party.  Cliche  red  solo  cups  scattered  everywhere,  filled  at  varying  degrees.  A  beer  keg  or  two,  some  cheap  bottles  of  vodka  splayed  about,  remnants  of  ash  from  blunts,  a  couple  or  two  aggressively  making  out  against  the  wall,  and  four  or  five  random  stragglers  fidgeting  with  their  phone or  talking  overly  loudly  to  each  other.  You  know,  the  usual.  

“Ughh,  no”  She  answered  reluctantly.  “They  have  to  be  somewhere  else,  maybe,  like  upstairs  or  downstairs,  right?!”  

Before  you  could  reply,  behind  you,  you  heard  an  enthusiastic  “Jamie!!”  then  a  muffled,  “you  finally  made  it!!”  The  familiar  voice  had  you  jerking  your  head  to  see  if  your  ears  were  failing  you,  evidently,  they  weren’t.  Right  away  you  see  Chris  tackling  Jamie  in  a  hug  before  he  met  your  eyes  with  his  comically  wide  ones.  

“Aaaahhh!!  Y/n’s  here  too?!”

 “Yeah!  Don’t  we  look  cute?”  Jamie  fluffed  up  her  cropped,  newly  dyed  hair  you  helped  her  do,  yours  also  in  a  similar  state.   

“Yeah,  but  Y/n  looks  better.”  He  teased,  giggling  and  slapping  her  in  the  arm;  unsurprising,  as  it’s  their  usual  fashion.   

“Oh  my  god!  Why  did  I  come  here?!  Okay,  we’ll  leave  then,  Chris.”  Jamie  joked  right  back  at  him,  snatching  at  your  hand  like  it  was  a  prize  to  be  won  and  taking  you  away  with  her.  Unfortunately  for  you,  this  was  just  a  well-meaning  joke,  you  weren’t  going  to  be  set  free  from  a  party  anytime  soon.   

 “Nooo!  Don’t  go!!”  He  dramatized,  grabbing  onto  at  Jamie,  halting  her  from  leaving  with  you  in  tow.  Giggling  so  hard,  he  had  to  throw  his  head  back  to  project  it  all.  You  snorted  a  “thank  you”  a  bit  late,  too  busy  laughing.  He  just  gave  you  a  brotherly  slap  on  the  arm,  on  his  way  to  leave  before  Jamie  stopped  him.  

“Wait!  What  about  my  soulmate?  You  said  they'd  be  here,  remember!”  

“Oh?”  Chris’s  eyebrows  scrunched  in  confusion,  Jamie  nodded  with  stern  wide  eyes  which  seemed  to  spark  back  his  doubtful  memory,  “Ahhh…  downstairs…  maybe…  I  think-  hangin’  out!  There’s  a  game  about  to  start-  Oh,  yeah!  That’s  why  I’m  here-”  he  giggled  to  himself,  “to  get  this!”  He  then  snatched  a  full  bottle  of  vodka  from  a  sneaky  cabinet  you  didn’t  know  about  before  ushering  you  guys  along  to  follow  him.  Honestly,  Chris  didn’t  make  it  sound  too  promising  that  Jamie’s  soulmate  could  be  down  there,  but  it’s  the  best  lead  you  got.   

Shyly,  you  followed  behind  the  two  as  he  led  the  way  to  the  basement.  With  Chris  as  your  guide,  it  was  relatively  smooth  sailing,  the  crowd  parting  minimally  to  make  way  for  the  president  of  the  frat.  Before  you  know  it,  you’re  walking  down  some  nasty  ass  carpeted  stairs,  forcing  your  eyes  from  questionable  stains  to  look  for  a  rail  instead  to  hold  onto.  Strangely  enough,  walking  down  the  steps  was  comforting  somehow,  the  feeling  as  if  it  were  inviting  you  in.  Like  it  assigned  you  a  duty  instead  of  the  alienating  fish  out  of  water  experience  you  had  earlier  on  the  main  floor.   

 “I  picked  up  some  stragglers!”  Chris  cheered  as  he  turned  into  the  room.   

 “Yeah,  but  did  you  bring  the  alcohol?”  A  brazen  voice  you’ve  never  heard  before  shot  straight  through  you.  You  could  feel  it  run  through  you  with  tingles  down  your  spine  and  goosebumps  up  your  arms.   

“Hell  yeah  I  did,  ya  jackass!”  

 When  the  two  of  you  turned  the  corner,  the  world  slowed  down  and  your  muscles  instantly  seized  up,  halting  you  into  place  without  consent.  Your  insides  clench  tight,  wrapping  itself  into  a  knot.  Suddenly  you  were  sweating,  but  in  contrast,  your  vision  looked  as  though  you  were  looking  through  a  nice  refreshing  glass  of  pink  lemonade.  Normally  steady  hands  were  now  shaky,  your  ears  and  cheeks  beginning  to  glow  beet  red.  You  could  feel  yourself  beginning  to  sweat  at  the  nape  of  your  neck  and  underarms;  all  this  from  the  sudden  voice  of  the  stranger!  -What?  What’s  going  on?!-    

 Immediately,  your  gaze  pans  around  the  room  before  they  landed  on  the  source,  long-lashed  eyes  holding  a  dark  chocolate  glaze  and  shivering  you  to  the  bone.  Like  a  hooked  fish,  you  couldn’t  look  away.  The  initial  astonishment  of  just  the  sensations  couldn‘t  compare  to  exploring  the  face  in  front  of  you.  

 Chiseled  cheeks,  and  angular  brows.  Pouty  naturally  downturned  lips  were  discovered  underneath  an  impossibly  perfect,  pointy  nose.  Everything  about  him  was  like  the  artwork,  his  slightly  covered  forehead  was  somehow  artistic  as  if  even  the  space  between  the  brow  and  the  hairline  was  something  new  that  your  narrow  mind  could  never  possibly  understand.  His  hairline  soon  revealed  a  head  of  luscious  black  hair,  unrealistically  voluminous,  shiny  and  soft.  Honestly,  his  hair  was  screaming  at  you  to  test  out  if  it  could  be  possible,  that  someone  who  looked  like  this  was  real.  His  entire  face  and  head  on  his  shoulders  didn’t  make  conceivable  sense.  Maybe  it’s  just  you,  but  a  person  this  perfect  couldn’t  exist  and  you  have  yet  to  venture  south  to  see  how  perfect  the  rest  of  him  could  possibly  be.    

 “Y/n?  Are- are  you  okay?”  

 You  vaguely  felt  or  heard  your  best  friend  at  your  side,  but  it  wasn’t  decipherable.  Everything  but  this  guy  in  front  of  you  was  fuzzy,  blurry  to  you.  All  the  energy  in  your  being  focused  on  this  human  in  front  of  you.  His  silky,  messily  parted  locks,  begging  for  you  to  test  if  it  was  as  soft  as  it  looked.  His  sharp  features.  His  lips  a  natural  coral-y  color  that  began  to  shine  and  glimmer  with  saliva  as  his  glossy  tongue  began  to  trail  along  those  chapped  lips.  You  shot  your  eyes  back  to  his,  reeling  you  back  in  like  the  prey  you  began  to  feel.  Oh,  sweet,  sweet  baby  Jesus,  is  this  really  happening?!

 “I-“  both  of  you  started  at  the  same  time.  Embarrassingly  enough,  it  seems  as  though  the  blurry  figures  of  everyone  else  in  the  corner  of  your  eyes  caught  on  to  something  the  two  of  you  were  oblivious  to.  Everyone  started  jumping  and  screaming,  whooping  chaotically,  and  taking  over  your  vision.  The  slow  world  disappeared  in  a  blink,  launching  you  right  back  to  its  now  rapid,  woozy  speed.  With  everyone  pushing  and  shoving  around  you  in  excitement  it  was  not  at  all  helping  with  your  wibbly-wobbly  state.  

Suddenly,  you  felt  many  different  arms  coming  at  you,  wrapping  around  you,  constricting  you,  and  jumping  around  with  you  in  their  arms  in  excitement.  There was  a  deafening  amount  of  rambunctious  hooting  and  hollering  it  was  almost  as  if  the  team  they  were  rooting  for  won  the  SuperBowl.  

 “And  here  I  thought  Y/n  was  Jamie’s  soulmate!”  Chris  guffawed  and  they  all  joined  in,  all  besides  you  and  this  guy- WAIT-  did  Chris  say-  say  ‘soulmate’??  No,  he  couldn’t  have!  

 “Soulmate?”  Equally,  as  soon  as  you  internally  questioned  the  word  choice,  you  heard  his  earth-shattering  voice  speak  again,  despite  the  fact  he  merely  whispered,  softly  wondering  aloud.  He  spoke  aloud  what  you  were  thinking,  right  when  you  thought  it!   

 You  couldn’t  get  enough  of  his  voice,  especially  now  when  you  can’t  see  him  in  the  crowd.  His  voice  was  light,  honey-colored,  dreamy,  just  the  perfect  amount  of  deep,  it  made  you  want  to  taste  his  lips  to  see  if  he’s  as  sweet  as  he  sounded.  You,  yourself,  were  still  in  the  locked-in-place  state,  still  too  shell  shocked  to  even  make  a  step  forward,  your  poor  brain  overworking  itself  to  make  sense  of  any  of  this.   

 “Really?”  In  elated  shock  you  chirped,  slowly  giving  in  to  the  hugs  and  excited  jumping  with  wide  and  confused  eyes.  Is  this  for  real?  This  is  really  happening?!  

“Holy  fuck,  Y/n!”  Jamie  managed  to  get  you,  pulling  you  a  bit  too  crushingly  in  a  hug.  “I  can’t  believe  it!  You  found  your  soulmate  in  this  shitty  basement  and  not  me!”  She  playfully  teased,  there  was  no  ill  will  behind  it.   

 By  now  the  situation  was  beginning  to  sink  in  a  teeny  bit  and  you  were  shocked,  to  say  the  least.  Frankly,  you  were  starting  to  think  that  this  day  would  never  come.  You  had  a  soulmate  and  your  soulmate  looked  like  that!  You  were  over  the  moon,  even  if  you  felt  a  bit  guilty  that  you  found  your  soulmate  at  this  party  instead  of  Jamie.  It  was  the  plan  of this  whole  night,  after  all.  Now  that  it  was  you,  you  didn’t  know  how  to  react.  You  were  completely  and  utterly  unprepared.  

  “I’m  so  sorry,  Jamie.”  You  pulled  her  back  in  closer,  crushing  her  back  into  you,  eyes  watering,  lip  trembling.  “Oh  my  god,  I  think  I  might-  I  think  I  might  cry.”  You  hiccupped  into  her  chic  mesh  turtleneck  and  dress  combo.  This  is  too  much.  Too  too  much.   

 “Heyy!~  Don’t  feel  bad  for  me!  It’s  okay!”  Jamie  simply  chortled,  patting  your  head  deeper  into  her  chest,  her  usual  protocol  if  you  were  about  to  seriously  cry.  

Humiliatingly  enough,  you  heard  a  few  guys  begin  to  chant  “don’t  cry!”  in  the  background.  Your  small  moment  of  sincerity  and  calm  was  soon  interrupted  by  Chris.   

 “Well  isn’t  this  fun!  You  know  what  this  means!”~   

“Minho’s  soulmate’s  a  lil’  bitch?”  You  heard  Jisung,  the  kid  whom  you  shared  your  major  and  many  classes  with,  taunt.  His  words  forcing  you  forward,  ready  to  fight  the  kid.  He’s  a  child,  literally   a  child!  Why  do  I  associate  myself  with  him?!  I  swear  to  god-

 “Hey,  hey,  hey!  It  was  a  joke!”  He  squeaked  away  from  you.  He  was  too  speedy,  no  chance  for  you  and  your  heavy  ass  boots  stomping  after  him.  Safely,  he  skidded  behind  the  couch,  behind  whom  you’re  assuming  is  “Minho”,  which  had  your  boots  screeching  to  a  halt.  

Though  you  were  scrambling  after  Jisung,  your  eyes  naturally  met  Minho’s  as  you  halted.  Once  again,  your  body  is  preparing  to  either  fight  or  flight.  His  face  was  glowing  like  he  was  some  sort  of  ethereal  being,  wracked  up  in  deep,  attractive  concentration.  In  contrast,  your  face  was  beginning  to  burn  up  an  embarrassing  amount,  your  body  already  turning  into  inoperable  mush.  You  couldn’t  say  anything  if  you  tried.  Any  sentence  structure  your  brain  tried  to  form  didn’t  make  any  grammatical  or  logical  sense,  your  mind  racing  like  a  hamster  on  a  wheel.  Your  neural  pathways  were  glowing,  steaming  with  this  sudden  overstimulation,  leading  you  to  the  same  frazzling  answer  each  and  every  time: 

This  person  right  in  front  of  you?  Yeah,  that’s  your  soulmate. 

 A  hush  was  spread  throughout  the  previously  hype  basement,  all  eyes  immersed  in  the  two  of  you  speechlessly  enraptured  in  each  other.  The  longer  you  stood  there, the  more  you  could  take  him  in  and  get  used  to  him  and  the  idea  of  him.  You  were  warming  up  to  him,  he  became  more  and  more  real  with  each  millisecond.  You've  studied  his  eyes  so  passionately  now  that  could  see  his  dark  chocolatey  pupils  when  you  closed  your  eyes.  You  were  no  longer  overwhelmed  but  now  enchanted  by  his  features  and  general  presence.  His  cheekbones  are  no  longer  an  unfamiliar  art  piece.  His  aura  was  still  intimidating  as  before,  but  now  it  appeared   to  the  cheeky  kind  of  way  like  you  wanted  to  see  what  amount  of  scary  he  was  capable  of.  It  was  a  long,  jittery,  drawn-out  pause  before  anything  happened,  not  that  you  noticed.  

 “Out  of  genuine  free  will,”  You  just  smiled,  staring  at  his  naturally  downturned  lips.  Only  by  reading  his  lips  did  you  pay  attention  to  what  he  was  saying-  Wait,  what?

“I,  Lee-”  Hold on a second.  

“Minho-”  No.  

“Exercise  the  divine  right  to”  This  isn’t  happening  to  me.  This  isn’t- 

“Reject  my  sacredly  designed-” happening.  No.  No.  It  can’t  be.  It’s  not  p-   

“Soulmate.”  -ossible.  

The  electric,  exciting,  high  energy  pause  between  us  fell  and  wilted.  Died  just  like  that.  The  connected  red  strings  that  tied  Minho  and  yourself  were  chopped  off  on  his  own  accord,  bringing  icy  cold  into  the  room  in  its  wake.  A  harsh  blizzard  overwhelming  the  space.  Gasps  of  shocked  air  were  being  taken  in  from  everyone  in  this  basement,  everyone,  including  Lee  Minho.  

 You  got  a  gasp  of  bitter  cold  in  through  your  lungs  before  you  were  struck  like  lightning.  Lightning  of  feverish  torture  took  over  your  body,  struck  you  directly  in  the  heart  and  brain  before  it  flashed  through  your  veins  carrying  the  harsh  poison  of  rejection.  

   You  heard  a  pathetic  squawk  tear  its  way  out  of  your  chapped  lips,  the  anguish  forcing  you  down  to  your  knees  as  if  you  were  directly  stabbed  in  the  heart.  The  electric,  immediate  painful  reaction  faded,  bringing  boiling  throbs  through  all  your  cells,  not  leaving  one  out.  It  was  unlike  anything  you  could  describe,  no,  imagine.  It  was  as  if  the  blood  in  your  veins  was  replaced  with  boiling  water  and  your  heart  was  simultaneously  squeezed  and  electrocuted  in  the  grasps  of  electric  hands.  Maybe  it  was  the  hands  of  Satan  dragging  you  down  with  him.

Blurrily,  through  fresh,  hot  tears,  you  swear  you  could  see  Minho  physically  flinch  in  response,  immediately,  sprinting  out  of  the  room  as  if  he  was  escaping  from  a  house  on  fire. 

 That  was  the  last  you  saw  before  it  all  faded  to  black. 

#stray kids fanfic #skzcreators-net #Lee Minho #Lee Know #minho fanfic #lee know fanfic #Brewgie's writing!!! #stray kids angst #minho angst #lee know angst #lee know au #Fratboi!Minho #minho x reader #sfw #soulmate au #rejected soulmate au #kpop fanfiction #ITS FINALLY POSTED!!! I'VE BEEN WORKING ON THIS FIC ON AND OFF FOR F I V E M O N T H S #my requests are open #stray kids only though bc that's who I feel like i could write adequately #dancing jem min😈💎

[a-table-of-fics]

Cull to Adventure, Chapter 4, Draft 1

             Marie returned from giving a battery-powered Zapfish plushie to the Octarians’ machine (a tradition started by her grandpa, though she had to admit it was cute) to find Agent 4 on the couch, with his gloves off, doodling on his hand with a marker. Concerned, Marie walked up to him, and saw that he was careful to draw within a tattoo of an abstract crab, arms crossed above its head, done in mostly outline except for two beady eyes. Marie couldn’t help but watch with interest as the boy sketched little ideas and interesting patterns.

           Agent 4 looked up to see Marie staring, and jumped back. Marie was surprised at how quickly you could put a glove on.

           “Ah, h-hi,” he said, smiling weakly. “So, uh… I’ll be up to looking for the n-next one in a sec…”

           “Hey, no rush,” Marie said, calmly. She nodded at the Zapfish that was still swimming in the air around them. “Here, I’ll fix you up some milk tea.”

           She disappeared into the small shack. The Zapfish looked at Cull for a moment, then swam to a plug to a nearby power strip, and something (presumably an electric stove) hummed to life in the cabin. Cull always found it amazing how all the Zapfish freely swam around and seemed happy to power things for everyone. Why would the Octarians just strap them to a machine like that? Cull wanted to pet her as he thought about this, but he knew it wasn’t nice to interrupt a working Zapfish.

           It wasn’t long until he heard a kettle whistle, and Marie soon came back out, carrying a tray with a teapot, a carton of milk, some sugar, and two foam cups. Placing it on a small coffee table in front of the couch, she went to get a lawn chair and brought it to sit opposite Agent 4. She was silent as she poured and mixed the tea, gently placing a cup in front of him.

           He picked up his cup, staring into it to try and avoid Marie’s gaze. He occasionally took a sip, but other than that and a quiet “thank you”, he wasn’t saying anything.  

           “Y’doin’ all right?” she eventually asked, carefully. “Seemed a lil’ rough out there...”

           She smiled politely, but Agent 4 still didn’t want to talk. All the same, she saw the ink rush to his face as he stared even more intently into his tea.

           With how much action most Inklings sought out for fun, Marie wasn’t sure what to say. He looked around 13, maybe 14, and he still didn’t seem comfortable with splatting or getting splatted, both of which were often near-daily things for most teens. Seeing him like this was just a sharp reminder of that. Why didn’t she pull him out of there sooner? Poor kid was not prepared for this kind of thing…

           She calmly finished her tea as she thought of this, and got up to guide the Zapfish back home.

           “Just take it easy for a bit, Agent Fou—”

           “P-please,” he finally said, looking up but still avoiding eye contact. “My name is Cull.”

           Marie was kicking herself. In her rush to find someone to help her, she didn’t even ask the guy’s name?  Sure, it was better to keep his name hidden in enemy territory, but she didn’t even ask before or after? Outwardly, though, she simply nodded.

           “All right, then, Cull” she said, carefully taking the Zapfish by her back. “You did…you did all right, kid. Chill out here; you deserve it.”

           Cull could hear that tone in her voice again. That strained tone when someone struggled to avoid a certain topic; when Cull was concerned, that usually meant avoiding mention of his tentacles. He just wished someone would flat-out tell him he wasn’t half the Inkling others were; he was sick of being patronized. He watched Marie leave to return the Zapfish to Inkopolis, then turned back to his tea. By now, it was lukewarm at best, but it still tasted good. Well, whatever Marie thought, he did it. He got that Zapfish.

           ***

           Marie walked through the back streets, stroking the Zapfish’s head as she went. There were a few things to consider when it came to where one should be returned. First, of course, there was being discreet (they were trying to prevent another Great Turf War, after all), but there was also the matter of what places needed power and where the Zapfish would be comfortable. Food was important, and luckily this fish seemed all right with the way they were going, so they headed off to Mako Mart, being careful not to be seen.

           Marie watched as a couple of the employees cheerfully welcomed the fish back. It never got old, seeing squids, jellies, and various fish cheering on the little guys and welcoming them back.

           As she walked back, however, her thoughts turned back to Agent 4. She had sent a kid who never even went into a Turf War headlong into danger! Yeah, Agent 3 didn’t seem like an ideal candidate either, but at least she knew how to hold her own…

           Gramps sure knew how to pick ‘em…

           Marie sighed. Yeah, Cull did manage to get the Zapfish, but he struggled to fight even the most basic Octotrooper. It made her worry about what would happen if he faced other Octarians, or, Cod forbid, an Octoweapon!

           ***

           Cull was back to sketching on his hand, over a tattoo he had designed himself. While it did help him relax to draw within the outline, and he was quite proud of how it turned out, that didn’t matter when he had gloves covering it up most of the time. He just wasn’t ready to show it off. Right now, he was sketching a red salamander crawling across one of the crab’s abstract claws. Patterns swirled all over its skin as it was curling up to sleep. He was eventually satisfied with it, and his nerves had been soothed for now, so he waved his hand a bit so it could dry, then carefully put his glove back on.

           Just in time, too; Marie had come back to the Outpost.

           Cull gently placed the headset back on his ears, picking the gun back up with his other hand. That was enough downtime; there were Zapfish to save.

           “R-ready for the next one,” he said, voice still wavering a little. He started to move forward, but was stopped by Marie’s green parasol.

           “Yeah,” Marie sighed. “About that…”

           She had never had a talk like this, and it showed, from how she was avoiding eye contact (impressive, as Cull was doing the same), to the way she paused between each sentence.

           “…Look, you did well… But let’s face it, you’re inexperienced. I don’t want to see you getting killed out there. They know to look for another Agent now, and, well…”

           She took a deep breath, lifting a finger to halt Cull’s interjection.

           “Look, kid, I don’t know if I should thank you or apologize, but I think it’d be best if you got a few Turf Wars under your belt before diving headlong into danger.”

           The ex-Agent 4’s view looked from the Splattershot, to Marie, to the kettle site, and finally to the manhole to Inkopolis.

           “…L-lemme get changed then…” he said quietly, before heading into the shack. He came out minutes later in his civilian clothes, bereft of a weapon.

           “Thank you, though,” Marie said, giving him a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Don’t go bragging about this, but the Zapfish you rescued? Should power Mako Mart just fine!”

           She smiled slightly, giving his back a quick pat and stepping back a little.

           “But, seriously, this is a secret operation. Don’t go blabbing.”

           She wasn’t too worried about it, him being both nice and meek, but she figured she’d remind him to be sure.

           Cull nodded absently, and walked to the manhole back to Inkopolis. He gave a small wave before vanishing from the Outpost.

           Coming out from the surface, it suddenly occurred to Cull that the sun was setting. It was certainly darker out, but he could have sworn he wasn’t away from Inkopolis for that long. Those underground Octarian places must have messed with his internal clock; those artificial skies were surprisingly immersive.

           Well, it might be a good idea to stock up; there was no telling how long another agent might take to rescue the other Zapfish. Hopefully, Mako Mart had some non-perishables…

           As always, Jelfonzo’s was the last shop to close. Cull had emerged just in time to meet with Flage, who was just leaving for the day. Her long green tentacles were shifted into one long piece that flowed behind her, and she wore a pair of large spectacles over purple eyes.

           “Oh, hell-oh-ho, Cull!” she waved, with that somewhat sing-song voice of hers. It would be grating on anyone else, but she had an uncanny way of keeping people relaxed around her.

           Cull shuffled forward, absently waving to her.

           “Long day?”

           “Y-yeah,” he nodded, keeping pace with her. “You could say that.”

           “Iiii get that,” Flage said. “Just hope the Zapfish allll come back soon…”

           She gestured vaguely and slowly as she talked. Cull could already feel himself get less tense. Which made it all the more startling when she suddenly perked up, clapping her hands once.

           “Hey! You hear? Mako-oh Mart got one just a half hour ago-oh!”

           Cull couldn’t help but smile at that, satisfied at a job well…. Well, a job done, anyway. He tried to be subtle about it, though, and adjusted his beanie to hide that. If someone found out he had anything to do with it, he had no clue what Marie would do…

           “Y-ye-nice,” he said, finally, hoping he sounded like he didn’t know.

           Flage didn’t seem to notice anything odd, though.

           “Yep! Everyone’s movin’ to get to someplace cool right now, you know how hot it is.”

           Cull nodded. He wasn’t really thinking of the heat, but yeah, the heat wave was rolling in sooner than he thought it would. To be fair, he was already sweating from the adventure he just had.

           “Hmm…Like moths to a la-amp…” Flage mused. “That could be a good piece, don’t you think?”

           “Mhm. Topical,” Cull replied.

           “I’m thinking lots of yellows to contrast with the cool blues and greys…”

           Flage kept musing about her idea for her latest art installment that would prove to be her big break. Cull didn’t mind; it helped keep his mind off things, it was a friendly common interest (sometimes they even gave each other ideas), and he could feel his troubles melt away with her melodic voice.

           Still, his mind kept drifting to the Zapfish, and how happy she was to be able to move again. To Flow, and how Miffens’ absence affected her. To the heat wave, and the lack of air conditioning so many Inklings would have to suffer through. He gave little acknowledgements and comments as Flage talked, but his heart clearly wasn’t in it.

           “…Aaanyway, I guess I better head off. It’s not gonna paint itse-helf!”

           They waved their goodbyes and parted ways. Flage was heading straight home (“Must strike while the iron is hot hot hot!”), but Cull still needed to stock up. Who knew if the heroic Inkling Marie picked would get them all anytime soon?

           Flage wasn’t kidding; Cull found he was struggling to even get through the door to Mako Mart. Although, it was less a sardine pack than it was his reluctance to really talk or make eye contact with anyone. A few mumbled utterances of “hi” and “’scuse me”, however, and he could get in without too much issue.            Wearing a beanie might not have been the best idea in this weather, and he could see several Inklings taking their own hats off to beat the heat, but Cull wasn’t about to risk what others would say if they saw his haircut.

           Not like anyone was really paying any attention to him anyway, thankfully. Most were trying to get a good spot by the vents or in the freezer aisle. The rest were crowding around something, but the throng was so dense Cull couldn’t tell what.

           He grabbed a basket (a cart would be impossible in the crowd) and tried to maneuver his way through the aisles. Some even had Inklings lying down on top of them, in the hopes of getting some open air. Cull instinctively grimaced, imagining the guys who worked here wouldn’t be too happy.

           After getting some chips, granola bars, and cereals, Cull decided he had enough for a few days. His fridge still had plenty of vegetables and fish, but those wouldn’t last too long…

           He was on his way to checkout, keeping his eyes to the ground as he emerged from the aisle, when he saw a mass of feet around him. He looked up and started; he had walked right into the middle of the crowd. He started to tug his beanie down, reflexively, but he saw they weren’t even looking at him. They were all reaching up, jumping, and even trying to climb on top of each other to reach, as it turned out, the very same Zapfish Cull had saved that day. Everyone was making kissy noises, beckoning, and trying to pet and welcome the Zapfish back.

           The Zapfish, on the other hand, was mostly just swimming around above, as if she didn’t notice all the Inklings who saw her as their friend and current hero.

           Cull wasn’t sure how to feel when she glanced right over him. On one hand, he really didn’t want any attention. On the other, he busted his butt trying to get the girl here; it would be nice if she recognized him outside his outfit when he was still “Agent 4.”

           Oh, well. He was just glad they had a place to cool off.

* * *

           In his rush to get himself prepared for home, he had completely forgotten that the train there wasn’t powered, either. Not knowing the bus schedule, he had to call a cab. At least he could charge his phone while he was there, even if it was an awkward ride.

           It was getting quite dark, and Cull stumbled a bit as he got back into his house. His phone’s light soon revealed a room that was messier than most. Bunched-up balls of paper were littered around every so often, and the remnants of half-cleaned paint splotches and piles of graphite remained on several surfaces. The walls were once white, but they were painted over (by brush and spray can) with half-finished murals, covered in experimental designs and vibrant colors. In some places, one could see faded parts of previous murals.

           No place like home.

           He sighed, checking the fridge. It was thankfully still colder than room temperature, but he realized he had no way to cook anything. Cull groaned; he really didn’t want snack foods for dinner, but it would have to do.

* * *

           Sleep was light for Cull, and not just because of the heat, or the unfulfilling meal. He couldn’t stop thinking about the power outage. The Inklings at Mako Mart. Marie. Flow. The Zapfish.

           All these things swam through his head all night. He got up in the early morning, far earlier than usual, but to his shock, he wasn’t feeling groggy at all. Normally, he’d spend his time playing video games and trying some more sketches or colors, but he had something else in mind this weekend.

#cull goes to octo canyon #draft 1 #Chapter 4 #fic #Splatoon #splatoon 2 #cull to adventure full chapter

[szopenhauer]

Whens the last time you ate bread? today

Do you attend school, college, or uni? no longer

If you could speak three different languages fluently, what would they be? I already speak two so dunno if I can add three more or just one?

Where,in your current country, would you like to live, other than where you do now? Ełk

Where wouldn’t you want to live? śląsk

Do you like sheer clothing? nah

Llamas or sheep? llamas

Can you iron? yes?

Can you work the washing machine? theoretically

Do you like your photo being taken? I don’t

Do you like taking photos of yourself? funny selfies

How many magazzines do you buy a month? 1 but my mom buys several

How many of them are car-related? none

What about fashion? maybe mom’s but it’s more possible that I’d buy fashion related mag than one about cars

Any celeb gossip ones? mom’s? I hate those

Are you excited to live on your own? I’d be :3

When do you plan on moving out? hopefully soon

What gives you confidence? when I need to protect someone, help someone weaker, want to make fun of myself to make someone smile or when I’m sure of my knowledge/experience/memory but I rarely am confident

Is there a habit you’re currently trying to kick? maybe

Have you ever dated someone with very different sexual tastes than you? not very

Have you ever said anything you regretted while drunk? never been drunk

Has anyone ever been extremely jealous of you? Do you know why? not extremely

What do you wish you’d spent more time doing five years ago? eating?...

What is the most meaningful gift you’ve ever given? it’s not for me to judge

Do you feel as though someone ‘won’ in your last break up? umm...

What is something most people are turned on by but you’re not? penis 

do you daydream?: less than I used to do you dream at night?: not every night but I do  when you’re sick, do you like to be pampered, or left alone?: depends who’s the better actor, jack nicholson or anthony hopkins?: Nicholson  if someone cries while watching a sad movie do you laugh at them?: wtf... I cry myself  how often do you change your sheets?: rarely, I hate fresh laundry, can’t sleep because of allergy even tho I use special detergents :( are you high maintenance?: not when it comes to money but I'm still a burden deliveryman at your door - who’s the package from?: shirt that I ordered :D do you wear socks with sandals?: I don’t wear sandals would you marry for money?: if I had to but don’t wanna would you vote for a woman president?: why not Are looks/appearances really important?: a little if someone lied to you and came clean is that forgivable?: depends Do you like Final Fantasy? Which one do you prefer of all?

Do you like Lady Gaga? I like some of her songs Don’t you hate when your foot falls asleep? with passion >.< Do you bless random people when they sneeze? sometimes I might Dark, milk or white chocolate? white or at least milk

Last thing you ate? sandwich Was today a good day? sigh... What are you listening to? russian musicians like Valery Meladze  What was the last movie you cried at? Five feet apart You’re getting drunk, what do you drink? but I don’t want to drink/get drunk What do you think of Justin Bieber? I hate him Is the closest saturday going to be a good one? today is Saturday and next one is gonna be the last day before hospital so very anxious Where were you when you last cried? home Would you be bothered if your boyfriend/girlfriend did drugs? I think so Last time you threw up from drinking? that never happened Would you rather get your tongue or lip pierced? lip Do you get sea sick? I didn’t but who knows Do you download music illegally? I don’t download music now at all Hugged anyone today? parents Do you drink every weekend? I don’t drink at all Do you have any scars? meh Have you ever cried at a book? few times only, movies make me cry way more often Would you ever get a tattoo on the inside of your lip? what for? Can you sleep in total darkness? I don’t like to FALL asleep in total darkness but sleep is fine Is there someone who you can spend every minute with and not get annoyed? there isn’t Have you ever fallen in the toilet when you were little?: it’s possible, I don’t recall XD but I stepped into the bathtub in tights at least once

Who was your best friend in 5th grade?: P.

What was the first Beanie Baby you ever got?: never had one? Can you keep a spoon on your nose?: doubt it What is your favorite farm animal?: chicken Do you lie to your parents in order to get your way?: I might exaggerate  Do you like to play Monopoly?: yup Have you ever stayed overnight in the hospital?: many times and will soon again What size bra do you wear?: *shrug* not sure, I buy what feels good enough on me but even if I knew that would be personal  Who was your favorite Sesame Street/Muppet character?: Oscar, Bert (I always say Bern or Bernie), Big bird, Elmo was pretty cool too

*I actually adore puppet shows like this

When was the last time you found yourself somewhere you didn’t want to be? May I ask where that place was? now, in my house because of ppl 

Do your eyes ever twitch? very rarely

When did you last offer to do something that you really didn’t want to do? this day

When did you last feel forced into something? I’m forced to live so...

Assuming you have any, is your hair soft today? assuming I have any lmfao

Who did you last worry about and why? besides myself - my father

Are you currently looking for a new place to live? I wish

Can you see any toys from where you’re sat? shitload

Have you ever been embarrased by something you’ve said or a noise you’ve made during sex or kissing? maybe

Who or what was the subject of the last photograph you took? auto-portrait

Do you eat your dinner at a dining table, coffee table or just off your lap? depends

When did you last see the sea? on a pic or irl? because if in real life then almost 20 years ago

Have you ever experienced contagious yawning? ppl yawning doesn’t make me wanna yawn  Can you handle movies involving lots of bugs and insects? not maggots and not dead bugs Were you ever a vampire for Halloween? yeah

Are you borrowing books from anybody at the moment? my sister Do you keep scissors in your kitchen? If so, where? my mom does couple pairs but not always in the same place Is there a book store in walking distance? there isn’t, just library When was the last time you used a pay phone and who were you calling? camp? my parents? What is the funniest movie you’ve seen recently? I didn’t watch any funny movies lately, the last one was The princess bride that I decided to see in the last months

Is there any kind of design on your socks? stripes How long until you kiss someone again? at least 2-3 weeks Do you like being kissed on the neck? yes Do you accessorize your outfit? rarely

Describe your handwriting: ugly

Are you socially awkward? I am Where are both of your parents right at this moment? home like me Do you find yourself on Youtube a lot? yt is my background quite often  What was the last thing you scratched? my nose and neck Are you satisfied with your gender? not really Looks or personality? Which is more important to you? personality unless looks include gender then exclude all men How many times have you dyed your hair? 4 Do you hate when movies are split into two parts? yes and no? What is something that reminds you of your childhood? lots of stuff 

How did you meet your first crush? my first real female crush I met in high school, we had classes together

What is an anecdote that your family frequently tells about you as a child? there are many, personal If you could do anything with your hair what would you do? I don’t know *shrug* Can you remember how many people you’ve kissed? 1 person How open are you with your parents? very, 99% What is your favorite episode of your favorite show? can’t choose only one :o How did you learn about sex? biology classes mostly Describe your favorite outfit? leggings/pajama pants, T-shirt, hoodie or sweater, socks, slip on shoes, hat like a beanie for example and jacket if it’s cold

Do you have a sister that steals your things? she borrows things without asking at times and some she didn’t even give back or she ruined ‘em

Do you have dishes in your room? mug

Is anyone in your family artistic? would say so

When is the last time you watched a hockey game? never

What was your last dream about? yesterday I had a dream about having a group with Harley Quinn and today I forgot

What are you currently listening to? Susanne Sundfor

Who was the last person to smoke a cigarette in your presence? my sister’s bf or a stranger

Where did you last eat? living room

[staylovehearts]

Check Yes, Juliet

Seo Changbin x Reader

Word Count ~ 4.8k

Summary: In which you suddenly find yourself in the middle of a romance that hopefully won’t end in tragedy.

Tags: college setting, friends to lovers, y/n majors in costume and set design, changbin does sound and set design, so we doing theatrics, mentions of Romeo and Juliet, and bad SoundCould rapping

"So you see, the task here is not to design perfect costumes or draw up a pretty stage plan. What I want you to do here is just plan, organise and most importantly budget a show. You will have to consider everything. From the material you are going to need, to the time that will be required to make the costumes or any custom made props you'll be needing for the backdrop. If you want to make a couple of sketches of the costumes or how you imagine the stage design that's fine but remember that your focus should be on the production. You'll be working in pairs or groups of three, you may pick your own partners and each team is going to work with a Shakespeare play. You have two weeks to work on this task and then every group is going to have to present their work in a ten to fifteen presentation. Are there any questions?"

At the end of her small speech, the professor looks over the rim of her round glasses and sort of gives everyone in the small lecture hall her special you dumbasses better not ask me any stupid questions or I'm going to throw my shoe look. Honestly speaking she's probably a bit of a diva. But then again, who in this department isn't? You knew exactly what you were signing up for when you decided to pursue a major in theatre studies with a focus on costume and set design. Theatre is a world of eccentrics. Of loud personalities and flashy costumes. Everyone is constantly being a little over the top. It's a huge performance and the curtain is never fully drawn. Even though you belong to the people that prefer to stay behind that curtain. You like to admire the colourful spectacle from the distance and let those with a calling to perform do their job while you do yours. Which is to support. You are the one that makes the magic work. The one that designs epic costumes and turns any boring room into a scene straight out of a fairytale dreamland.

"Shh, we're working together on this, aren't we?", Changbin is sort of leaning over to whisper into your ear, he's so close that his shoulder is brushing against yours and you can almost feel the soft tickle of his exhale against your skin. If he were anyone else you'd probably push him away for just invading your space like this with no warning, but since Changbin is Changbin you don't mind it at all. He's one of the first friends you made here in the theatrics department. He's focusing on sound and stage design so you do have a couple of courses together every once in a while and your schedules usually overlap allowing you to take lunch breaks together every other day. Changbin fits right in with the artsy kids that walk this campus. He has a dark red beanie on his head covering most of his undercut hairstyle. One of his eyebrows is gracefully slit and there are small tunnels in his earlobes. And when he is pushing up the sleeves of his shirt like he does now a bit of the tattoo on his right upper arm pokes out. He has the look of a tumblr e-boy with the personality of the cute childhood friend guy that lives next door.

"Of course we are, do you have a play in mind already? We might be able to snatch a good one if we act quick", you whisper back. Most of the other students in the class are still whispering under their breath and trying to find a partner to work with while the professor is watching the mess in mild annoyance, tapping her pointy nails against the chalkboard every once in a while. She's written down the selection of plays in advance and it's pretty much every major Shakespeare work you'd imagine to find on a list like this.

"Your pick", Changbin replies. You nod quickly before you raise your hand to attract the professor's attention. She looks up and gives you the go-ahead to talk with a small wave of her hand.

"Changbin and I would like to work on Romeo and Juliet please", you announce. You can hear sounds of protest from around you from the other student's that probably had their eyes set on the same play. But it's first come, first serve. The professor looks at you for a moment before she shrugs and puts your names down next to Romeo and Juliet on the chalkboard. You silently fistbump Changbin under the table. It's not like you are picking this play for the romance or the story or whatever. You honestly don't even see it as that romantic. It's more of a tragedy actually. After all – spoiler alert – almost everyone dies. Especially the couple that the whole thing is about. If you were going for romance you would probably pick something like A Midsummer Night's Dream. That one at least has something like a happy ending. At the very least no one dies and the couples all end up marrying in the end. But that play also has a bunch of fairies that'll need fancy costumes and a goddamn magical forest as a background that would be hell to plan out on your own. Romeo and Juliet has a rather small cast, it might require some costume designing but the play is so goddamn overdone that there are plenty of resources that can be used as an inspiration. There have been millions of stage productions of this play, research for this one is going to be a piece of cake. Also, you're working together with your best friend. So it's going to be great no matter what.

Things are not really going as great as you hoped they would. You are sitting on Changbin's bed in his dorm room, cross-legged and with your laptop balancing on one thigh. The hot air blowing out from the fans has made your leg feel uncomfortably warm but you also don't really want to put the laptop down in front of you because that would make you hump your back to type. Well, it's not like you're really typing right now either way. Your sketchbook is lying abandoned on your other leg, the pencil somewhere near the pillow and you wish so much to just lie down next to it and close your eyes for a moment. Changbin is sitting at his desk. Spinning around in his chair and not really doing anything productive either. You figured Romeo and Juliet would be easier because there are so many sources and other productions that you can use as inspiration. Not this exact thing is biting you in the ass. There are just too many different adaptions. Too many wildly different interpretations. The day before Changbin and you sat through a movie marathon of every Romeo and Juliet adaption you could get your hands on and there's just... so many of them. There is Romeo + Juliet which has guns and more modern fashion but still sticks to the original dialogue. It also has Leonardo DiCaprio, but that's an entirely different thing. Then there is stuff like Shakespeare in Love which actually somewhat deals with the production of a play. And at least three other adaptions that all use somewhat different approaches. So basically you are getting kind of frustrated already.

"Ugh, I hate this", you complain while dramatically letting yourself fall back onto Changbin's bed. He barely looks up but out of the corner of your eyes, you can see him slightly grinning at the view of you trying to hold onto your laptop with one hand while letting yourself fall back into his messy bed. He didn't bother with folding his blanket so it's kind of bunched up and shoved towards the wall. That way it makes for a perfect headrest. It even smells nice. Like that cologne, you got him for his birthday last year because you’re a grown ass man now it's time you start smelling like one mixed in with the smell of hairspray, black tea that he must have spilt and then not bothered changing the sheets after and the cheap laundry detergent from the washing room. It's comfortable and if you could you would just curl up in Changbin's bed and forget about that stupid project for a while.

"Oh come on, it's not that bad", Changbin says with a hint of amusement in his voice. You raise your head just enough to glare at him before you flip him off with the hand you don't need to stabilise your laptop. He bursts out with laughter for a moment before he switches back into serious work mode. "Okay, so maybe we should just do some brainstorming. You know, collect some ideas, come up with a theme for this. I think once we decided how we want to go about that everything else will just come naturally. Like, do you want to stick to the original more or should we also opt for a more modern interpretation? I think we're pretty much free to do whatever as long as we come up with a proper plan and budget for the production."

"I don't even knoooow", you complain stressing out the last word into a whiny groan. Changbin stretches out a leg to slightly kick against the bed.

"Yah", he chuckles. "Don't be so mopey. Okay, so how do you feel about a more modern version? I think that would also be a lot easier on the costumes. And then we can put more work into the stage set up and stuff like that."

"Like that movie with DiCaprio? What do we do about the dialogue and stuff then?", you ask. You like the idea of not having to design elaborate costumes and then calculate the costs for materials and the time it would take to actually realise these costumes and just put all actors into thrifted clothes. Juliet in a flowy summer dress and Romeo with a dress shirt that has a weird yet oddly endearing print on it. But you also feel like there might be a hitch somewhere.

"We don't have to hand in a script, just a budget and production plan, so it's probably enough if we mention in a side note that what we are going for is a modern adaption", Changbin reminds you. His words sound reasonable, but he still hasn't fully convinced you. He can probably sense that you are still hesitating so he continues with his sales pitch. "Just imagine it. Juliet is some rich chick from a fancy high society private school. Maybe even the daughter of the principal or whatever. And Romeo is also some rich brat but he's kinda the black sheep of the family. They meet when he and some guys from his school crash the prom night of Juliet's school and boom, they fall in love, the parents don't approve and shit goes down."

You laugh at his dramatic description of his version of Romeo and Juliet but at the same time, you can actually kind of picture the version he is going for. It's a fresh take on an old story. Love, disapproving parents, a strict environment and two horny teens that rebel against the system because even though they only met yesterday their love is already better than anything that happened to them in their entire life so far. Also putting everyone into school uniforms would definitely make costume planning and designing a lot easier.

"Okay, let's go for it", you decide. You are still kind of lying down on Changbin's bed put out of the corner of your eye you can see him do a small victory dance in his chair. It's kind of cute.

"Man, I actually really wish we could write a whole script for it instead. That would be so much more fun. Just imagine that dramatic balcony scene but instead Romeo is just sneaking onto their property at night to throw rocks at Juliet's window and then rap his whole love confession."

Changbin starts doing a freestyle version of what Romeo and Juliet could have possible sounded like if it was written by a SoundCloud rapper in the 21st century and you can barely contain your laughter.

Yo yo yo, what's that light that I see

It's Juliet!

She is shining brightly, like the sun

but I'm just a lonely moon boy you see, baby please shine your light on me

You grab your pencil and toss it in his general direction. It flies right past him and lands on the side of the room that Changbin's roommate – who is luckily out with friends right now – occupies. Changbin laughs at your pathetic attempt to get him to stop rapping which at the same time ultimately leads to him stopping.

"No, but honestly, how do you feel about it?", he asks after a moment of silence. You sit up again to look at him.

"It's good", you say. You mean it. You know that working with Changbin would be nice. Not just because he is your friend but also because he's an amazing person to work with. He always comes up with the weirdest but also incredibly creative ideas and whenever you are at the point where you want to just give up and curl up into a ball he is the one to take a step back and look at the problem a bit more rationally and find some sort of solution.

"So, now that we have that figured out how about you spend the next few days trying to come up with a plan for the costumes and I think about the set design and we can go over it together next Tuesday before class so that we kinda already have something to show in case she asks for progress?"

"Yeah, sounds good."

You shut your laptop down and close it, finally taking it off your leg again and the warm spot on your pants feels really awkward. Your skin underneath feels burnt even though you know very well that it's just a little warmed up at most.

"Are we done for today then?"

Changbin shrugs. "I guess so." He pauses to kind of look around the room for a moment before he looks back at you. "Wanna grab some dinner with me though? I'm kinda starving and I think the cafeteria already closed down and all I have left here is some cereal and protein bars."

"Sure, the usual place? I've been craving burgers either way."

"Let's go then."

When Changbin and you meet up on Tuesday before class you have a couple of rough sketches for costumes that you only really made to get an idea what and how much fabric you would need. In the meantime Changbin has come up with how to realise that backdrops and the stage set up and made a list of props you would need for that. So overall some really good progress. When your professor peeks over your shoulder later that day you proudly show her your work. She's a little surprised by your take on the task at first but in the end, sees no problem with you going for a different interpretation as long as you do the budget plan and everything properly. So Changbin and you spend the rest of that session crunching numbers and writing up potential shopping lists and stuff like that. By the end, you have something like an overview of all the costs that would crop up for the costumes and the stage design. Now you just need to kind of organise it all and put it in a more presentable way. Maybe sort by category or necessity of items. Like what needs to be taken off first and what can maybe be replaced in case there is no way of getting the exact thing. You agree to meet up again that weekend to finish up everything and put together a power point for the presentation in class.

Of course you also kind of meet up with Changbin before that. On Wednesday you have lunch together with him. Thursday you run into him in the small coffee shop on campus and you end up talking to him for so long that you almost come too late for your next class. And Friday you have another afternoon lecture together and after that, he kind of tags along with you while you buy some groceries and stuff for the weekend and he even helps you carry them back to your dorm building.

By the time Saturday rolls around you have pretty much finalised planning the production of the costumes for your fictional Romeo and Juliet performance. You are once again sitting on Changbin's bed with all of your sketches and notes spread out around you. He is sitting at his desk while trying to type all the information into a power point and make it look okay.

"Do you think we should add your costume sketches?", he asks without even really looking up from his work. You shrug, even though he clearly can't see it right now.

"If you want to? Do you think it's enough if I just take a picture of them with my phone real quick or should we actually scan them?", you ask back. Changbin makes some kind of half grunting half contemplating humming noise while briefly glancing up from his laptop.

"Probably better if we scan them, hand them over and I'll do it right now."

You pass him your sketches and he gets up with his laptop and walks over to the shelf where he and his roommate keep their old printer. While Changbin puts your sketches in page by page your eyes wander through the room. They get stuck on Changbin's desk. Or rather, an open notebook that is lying on display on top of said desk. You briefly glance over at Changbin but he still seems to be occupied with the printer, cursing under his breath because somehow the scanning and saving as a file option isn't working properly. You silently get up from his bed and walk over to the desk to take a peek into his notebook. You've seen him carry that thing around with him pretty much everywhere but he always made a huge secret out of the contents. You flip through a couple of pages. Terrible scribbles, a few messy lecture notes, shopping lists, reminders. Dentist appointment at 3 pm, next Friday is written on the top of a page, underneath it is a terrible drawing of a cat. Or maybe a dog. Could also be a horse now that you are really looking at it. But every now and again there are words that look like they were written down with more care. The letters are neat. A lot neater than what you are used from Changbin's handwriting. The words are picked carefully. Changbin is writing poems. This is probably not meant for your eyes at all but you can't help feeling curious about this. Changbin rarely talks about his inner thoughts and feelings. He's not really one to let his more sentimental side show. Maybe out of fear of appearing vulnerable and maybe out of a weird sense of pride. So maybe this is the once in a lifetime insight into his mind that you always wanted. You flip through the pages until you have found the latest entry and you stop. Everything stops for a moment. It's the Juliet rap he did last time. He actually worked Romeo's whole first part of the balcony scene into a rap. But what really strikes you is the fact that he has crossed out Juliet's name. And scribbled yours over it. You quickly close the notebook and turn around. Your hands feel sweaty. Your heart is racing. Changbin is standing right in front of you. The look on his face can only be described as heartbroken.

"You saw it, didn't you?", he asks. His voice sounds strained. A faint whisper. A string that is about to snap. You nod your head, unable to even say anything. You bite down on your bottom lip that is suddenly trembling. Changbin lets out a deep sigh.

"You weren't meant to find out. Not like this. Not at all. But I... listen, I know I probably shouldn't say this but I really like you. Like, I'm fucking in love with you and I... ugh, I'm so sorry I wasn't ever going to tell you now that you've already seen this there is no going back, huh. I'm in love with you, y/n."

"I- I don't know what to say." Your heart is racing, your chest is aching, your hands are sweating, your knees are trembling. "I... should probably leave."

You weasel out from between Changbin and his desk and make a dash for the door. You look over your shoulder briefly when you pull the door close behind you. He doesn't come after you.

You manage to avoid Changbin until Tuesday. He texted you right after you left and you left him on read. He hasn't tried to contact you again since. Honestly, the last few days have been terrible. You've only been avoiding Changbin for a whole two days but you already miss him a lot. You're just so used to him constantly being around you and being part of your life that you didn't even know that the empty space he would leave behind would be so big. Now you suddenly find yourself sitting alone during lunch break and walking the halls between classes with your earphones plugged in because there is no one to talk to. For the past years, Changbin has just always been around you even in small ways that you didn't even notice. It's not just that he would go to class with you or that you would have lunch at the cafeteria together. Suddenly there are also no more weird texts to wake up to every morning because Changbin insists that his best ideas happen late at night and he always texts you right away when he comes up with something even though he knows that it will take hours for you to actually reply to that. And then there are also all the small things that are just you and Changbin things. You have certain places you go to that are just your usual place to eat out. There are spots in the university library where you like to sit down when you study together, songs you both like and listen together when you are hanging out, the snacks you know you have to buy when he asks you to come over and bring some. Because you don't even have to ask what he likes anymore. When you're ordering delivery together late into the night during study session he doesn't ask what you want because he just knows. Changbin and you have seen each other pretty much every day for the last years, have worked on every project together, he's cheered you on for every exam and comforted you through every heartbreak. He's been there the whole time and now he suddenly isn't. Because you freaked out and pushed him away because you don't know how to react to his feelings. Or your own feelings for that matter. You have never thought about Changbin as more than a friend. At least while he was around being just that. But now that you've been ignoring him for a whole two days you are starting to realise that you miss so much more than just having someone to eat lunch and do group projects with. You miss having your best friend around. But even more than that you just really miss Changbin.

When you see him Tuesday before class you go straight for a hug without warning.

"I'm so sorry, can we please talk after class", you mumble with your face pressed into his chest. Changbin quickly squeezes you back.

"I'm sorry too, let's get this presentation over with and then we can talk."

The presentation goes fairly well considering you have never actually seen the finished power point. Changbin must have completed the thing on his own while you were busy ignoring him and pitying yourself and now you're just feeling even more guilty about the whole situation. Since you kind of split up the whole thing into parts from the beginning on you can more or less go through your part even though you haven't seen the actual presentation but Changbin jumps in and covers for you every time you kind of lose your flow because a slide is not where you expected it would be or because he added some additional sources. But your professor seems satisfied with the result. She marks both of you down as passed before she moves on to the next group.

You were the one who asked to talk to Changbin and yet here with him sitting right across from you at one of the small rounded tables of your favourite campus coffee shop you have no idea what to say. But as Changbin always does he jumps in to comfort you and help out when you get stuck.

"I'm really sorry about all of this. I really didn't mean for you to find out like this. I didn't mean to tell you at all. And I just hope that it doesn't make things awkward between us now. Believe me when I say that I don't expect anything from you. If you want to we can just pretend that nothing ever happened and move on. Just having you as my best friend already means a lot more to me and I don't want to ruin what we have."

He's so serious. So sincere. And most importantly he is sounding so vulnerable. In all the time that you have been friends with Changbin, you don't think you have ever heard him speak so straight from the heart. He's usually not one to share too much about what he is thinking or feeling. But now that you quite literally took a glance into his journal and uncovered some of his deepest secrets he is an open book in front of you. Sure, you regret that you peaked into his journal and found out about his feelings this way. But somehow you also don't. Now that you have seen this glimpse into Changbin's mind you don't want to turn the page and close the book again. Now that you know you can't imagine losing him again.

"I'm so sorry too, I shouldn't have left like that. I shouldn't have ignored you it's just that I... I just didn't know what to do", you mumble. You can't quite manage to really look up at Changbin's eyes and face him so instead, you are staring on his hands. He's got them lying on the table, fingers nervously fiddling with the handle of his mug. You take a deep breath and reach out a hand to grab his.

"I'm still confused", you admit. And it's true. Your mind is in turmoil. Between trying to comprehend feelings you didn't know Changbin had and coming to realise feelings you didn't know you had everything has been a huge mess and suddenly the whole world is upside down. But with Changbin right here it feels a little less chaotic. You’ve stumbled right into your own dramatic romance story but it’s up to you whether or not this one ends in tragedy. And maybe there is no way of knowing the end without at least trying. So you take a deep breath and try. "But I don't think we can just go back. I don't want to just go back. Listen, I never really thought of you as more than a friend but we've been separated for a whole two days and I'm already more than willing to do something dramatic like fake my own death or whatever just to be with you again. What I'm trying to say is that I really can't imagine being without you and maybe we can just... try this?"

"Do you mean we could try... being more than friends?", Changbin asks hesitantly. You finally manage to raise your head and look at him. There is so much hope in his eyes and you know just why you were hesitant to look up earlier. Changbin has such pretty eyes. You were always afraid to look straight at him. Afraid to fall. But maybe it's okay.

"I'm asking you to go on a date with me, what about it?", you reply by firing a question back at him. Changbin looks a little surprised for a moment. Then he breaks out into the widest smile.

"Well, you're leaving me no choice I guess."

#stray kids #stray kids fluff #stray kids scenarios #stray kids x reader #seo changbin #changbin #changbin x reader #requested #scenario #woop woop went wild once again

[pudding-on-parade]

Rambling about Lylanir

Just contemplating rules and culture and, y’know, world-building stuff. Also to-do lists. It’s mostly meant for me because I find that “writing” helps me to clarify things in my own head, but if you want to read along, feel free. :) I’ll warn you that it’s really long, and I’ll probably edit it over time to make it longer still. Or maybe shorter, if I delete things I’ve gotten done. WHO KNOWS WHAT I’LL DO???!!

Right now, I’m just working in Edit Town mode. I’ve moved in a placeholder Sim (who will be annihilated when I start adding the real population; I love that you can do that in TS3) so that I can let the world run a bit so that it generates service Sims. Currently, I’m deleting some rabbitholes I don’t want and adding some that I do. Also, some lots for some of the Ambitions functions. Like, do not want school but do want stadium, police, and military, so I’ve deleted/put those down. 

Also do want:

A spa. Partly rabbithole, partly playable. I want it to be a hot springs. Gonna use one of the world’s empty 64x64 lots for it, I think. Maybe a little smaller, but still a big lot. The DV spa rabbithole is pretty elvish-looking, so I might use a rug instead...or I might decide elvish-looking is OK for a spa. Mostly, I just want it to be pretty and relaxing.

A junkyard. I wish there were more period-appropriate junk piles, but I’ll make do with the “normal” ones. I also want to look at the “Inventing Overhaul” mod I have. I think I remember that you can replace the inventable objects with other things. I’d like some more slightly-advanced but closer to period-appropriate things than the advanced tech that mod uses. Like, inventing telescopes, for instance. Not sure I’ll be able to do that because I have zero TS3-modding skills, and if I can’t, I’ll settle for them inventing anachronistic stuff, mostly because I just love inventor Sims and the blacksmith’s house in the village is already furnished with an inventing station.

Business, criminal, theater, and science rabbitholes.

An art gallery that’s really more of a studio, with easels and sculpting stations and that Store glass-blowing/jewelry-making thing. maybe the toy-making thing from the Store and stuff like that. I’m going back and forth as to whether this stuff should be part of a residential home for a Da Vinci-like Sim or if it should be a community lot so that everyone of an artistic bent can use the stuff. I’m currently leaning more toward the latter.

A non-rabbithole, playable boarding school for the less-agrarian kids. Not sure what I need to do in TS3 to make that work. Need to do some reading/thinking about it.

Something for vampires, but definitely not a typical “Vampire Lounge.” I’m thinking....Well, the town has a monastery. It has a big, explorable, and very gothy tomb under it. Kinda thinking the “brothers” will all be vampires.

Maybe want:

A hospital rabbithole. I can’t decide if I want the medical careers (including custom ones I have, like nursing) in this world. I know I won’t be sending people there to birth babies -- mostly because of travel time -- so otherwise its only function would be careers, so....I don’t know. The world’s alchemy-heavy, and I have some custom elixirs for curing illness and such, so maybe a hospital is unnecessary.

A salon. Makeovers might be nice. A super-gay medieval stylist would be hilarious. Tattoos...maybe. In the real world, tattooing goes back to at least ancient Egypt, but I’d need to download some more appropriate designs than what the game comes with. I’m not sure this is important enough to me to go to that effort.

Wish I could have: A fire station. But that requires the fire truck and that’s pushing anachronism tolerance waaaaaay beyond my threshold. :)

Then, I need to go into all the prebuilt lots and edit them as needed. Like, I know because I looked that some of them have all modern kitchen appliances. Do not want.

Once all that’s done, all the service Sims ought to have been generated. So the next step will be making them over so they look right. Because they generate like this:

Yeah, that’s not gonna work. *laugh* But, I’ll only need to change hairs and everyday outfits, so it shouldn’t take long. What will take a long time will be making the playables, given the CAS lag I have. Which hopefully won’t be as bad since this Mods folder will be much lighter on the hair than my “normal” folder...

So, some ideas about this place’s environment and culture and all that:

Its climate will be temperate with all four seasons but on the cooler side. Longer autumn/winter/spring, shorter summer. Mostly to make farming a little harder. Lifespans will be longer to match because I like to take my time with things. Horses, of course, will be integral to this world.

Traveling won’t be allowed, so it’ll be an isolated culture with no one immigrating or emigrating once I’ve got the population set. UNLESS I decide to “network” in one or two other historical worlds of a similar era using the Traveler mod. I don’t know that I’m up for setting up more than this world, though. *laugh*

I’ve been putting in some thought about this place’s culture and while I don’t have much figured out yet, I DO know that this place is definitely going to be fantasy with only a medieval-esque veneer. But I also want it to have an unusual culture, not an LOTR-like sort of epic fantasy. This means it’s going to diverge a lot from the real Middle Ages, and I’m not gonna care. Given that, I’ve decided to go all out on some fantasy things.

Like, I’m going to use the dragons that came with Dragon Valley. I’m not quite sure how yet. I might limit them to supernatural Sims having them, maybe only one kind of supernatural having them. Maybe as a sort of witch familiar? Not that I don’t want witches to have cats, of course! *laugh* Maybe dragons can be fairy companions...

That said, obviously supernaturals will be integral here. :) But there won’t be superstition or stigma about them. No witch trials/burnings or anything like that. They’ll just be...people. Well, OK, if I do a feral werewolf colony, they’ll probably be feared, but otherwise? People will be cool with the supernatural, even embracing them and seeking to become one, i.e., those monastic vampires. Even though the vampires are probably gonna kill people. For population control, if nothing else.

For the supernaturals....I’ve downloaded a bunch of skin color ramps, I think they’re called. The things with ranges of unnatural colors on one slider. I’ve never used them. I think I’m going to use them for at least some of the supernaturals, designating a color family for each type of supernatural. I also have a mess of unnatural hair color presets, and I’ll do unnatural eye colors, too. I want to do this partly because I think it’ll be visually interesting and very different from what I’ve done in all my Simming before, but mostly because I’m curious to see how the Advanced Genetics that are part of NRAAS’s Story Progression (as well as a mod I have that blends parental hair colors) will handle such things. I’m hoping for some interesting results, especially with supernatural hybrids. 

Speaking of witch burnings...Religion. If there is one at all in this world, I’m definitely not doing anything from the real-world West. Probably won’t even do anything like the Sims Medieval style of religion. I’m not sure if the “monastery” will be related to religion at all, in fact. Currently, I’m leaning toward it being the vampires themselves who are worshipped by everyone else or at least by all the humans. Like, people could send them sacrifices to be drained in exchange for...something. :) I have no idea what right now. But I’m toying with a “backstory” about vampires that they are perhaps technologically advanced and not even former humans. Maybe they’re aliens, maybe they’re time travelers. Maybe they’re stranded in Lylanir, maybe they came deliberately as observers or something. Mostly, I’m thinking this because I want to be able to use the science station to make forbidden fruit seeds because I want to use Plantsims. *laugh* I can utilize that big-ass tomb under the monastery to hide some more advanced tech. 

But one cultural thing that I am certain of: It’s going to be an egalitarian society. None of this female oppression bullshit. I don’t want it to be female-dominated, either, but just....equal. So, women don’t have to be married and push out a dozen babies if they don’t want to. And they can wear comfortable, practical clothing, including pants. And they don’t have to cover their hair. And they can be badass warriors if they want to be. All that stuff. 

A bit of culture I’ve invented, following on from women not having to cover their hair, is that women above child-age will wear braided hairstyles, and the more elaborate the braiding, the higher the status she has. Because only those with status would have time to sit for hours and braid (or have someone else braid) their hair. I’ve downloaded a bunch of elaborately-braided hairstyles, and I’m looking forward to using them. 

And I want to think of something similar for men, but I’m having a hard time coming up with something. I’d be fine with complex braids for them, too, but alas such hairstyles don’t seem to exist for males. At least, not very many of them. Maybe tattoos, if I make them more expensive than the game charges for them? If that, then I need to move a salon up to the “Do Want” list.

And that’s enough, I think....FOR NOW!

#lylanir #long mindless rambling

[purplesurveys]

571

Why are you taking a survey? Becauuuuuse it’s a Sunday night and I’m not doing anything and I like surveys so I might as well take one. When's the last time you were grounded? First or second year of high school - back when I was majestically flunking algebra. Anything exciting taking place today? The day’s mostly over so not really, but looking back, it wasn’t a very exciting Sunday overall. In fact I was dreading having to wake up because I knew a nasty hangover was waiting to come pouring down on me D: What are you craving? A basket of Korean dumplings or mandu would be amazing right now. Is there anyone in the room with you? My mom is in the same floor (she’s making dinner), but I’m alone in the living room at the moment.

Who's the last person that made you laugh? Andrew, but that was hours ago. I just laughed over a meme five minutes earlier hahahahaha. What's your favorite color? Pastel pink. Who did you last hit? I don’t get physical with anyone. Do you like kool aid? I’ve never tried it. I’ve only ever seen it in upscale groceries in Manila too, so it’s not very accessible. Are you currently reading a book? No, I’m not. How do you do in school? I’m doing fine I guess. I never miss a deadline, am a good groupmate in projects and more often than not serve as the leader, and I’m still running for Latin honors after almost four years and despite signing up for a number of extracurricular positions and commitments, so I think I’m headed somewhere good. What's your biggest goal? Honestly my idea of being successful is conventional and traditional; I wanna be able to save up enough to be able to settle down, get a (big) house, and have kids. I’d LOVE to travel too but it’s not really my Ultimate Dream. Who have you texted today? Just Gab. It’s been a quiet day and most of my conservations have taken place on Messenger. What was the last thing you did before bed last night? I went over to my mom’s room to say hi because she asked me to drop by to let her know I’m already home (because I was out until 2 AM).

What's your biggest fear? Being humiliated/feeling embarrassed in front a large crowd. Look to your left...what's there? More of our couch. And to your right? Our electronic keyboard. Nina wanted to learn how to play the piano when she was around 9, and my parents fully supported her and got a brand-new keyboard and even hired a tutor for her. She ended up not pursuing it but we haven’t thrown the keyboard out, because we still tinker with it occasionally.

Who do you aspire to be like when you grow up? I don’t have a lot of role model figures in my life. I just want to end up with the best version of myself. Do you know if you want to go to college or not? College is necessary in the Philippines if you want to get anywhere in life, so yeah I kinda had to want to go to it. Laptop or desktop? Laptop. We never had a desktop computer so I lowkey never learned how to turn one on. Do you have an iPod? I technically do in that I own one and still haven’t thrown it out, but I haven’t used it since 2014 or 2015 maybe. Do you have a fan on in the room you're in? Yes, it’s pointed at me right now. Do you have a wallet? I do. What are you sitting on? On the living room carpet. Closest purple object? I’m not so sure. I’m looking around the room and I don’t think we have anything purple lying around. What's the last thing you had to eat? My mom made me fried rice and lumpia for dinner. Heaven. Do you like grapefruits? I don’t like fruits. Sweet or sour? SWEET Have you ever had the Reese's PB Candy Bars? Never. Do you know who Shawn Michaels is? Only one of the best professional wrestlers of all time. He’s very easily my Top 1. Who do you turn to if you need help? Gabie. Her words help more than anyone else’s. Are you more dependant or independant? I am dependent. Are you waiting for anything? Not really. Does the time 2 o'clock have any significance to you? Kind of. My grandma made sure our childhood siestas or afternoon naps started by 2 PM on the dot. As a kid I hated being forced to sleep SO MUCH, but it was an everyday, no-fail routine for a very long time, so it gave me a lot of memorable memories. Do you like bagels? They’re fine. I’d usually get something else at a bakery, but I don’t hate bagels. Are there any stuffed animals in the room you're in? No, just pillows on the couch. What do you think of guys who wear eyeliner? Nothing. They can do whatever they want if it makes them feel good. Favorite tv show? Breaking Bad. Who was the last person you talked to on the phone? My mom. She was buying milk tea and wanted to ask what flavor I wanted. Where's your mother? She just finished making dinner so now she is chilling in her room. Do you know who the strongest man in the world is? No. Professional wrestler Mark Henry used to have that title, but he’s retired now so he clearly wouldn’t be the strongest in the world anymore. That’s all I know, lol. Do you like online games? Not really. Do you use Yahoo!Answers? Maybe when I was like 11 or 12. Nowadays I just enjoy it for the meme content. Are you too warm, too cold, or just right? Just right. Do you want a tattoo? I don’t daydream about it, but I’m not opposed to having one especially if the design would mean a lot to me. Is there anything hurting you, on your body right now? My toothaches are magically gone, I’M SO RELIEVED. I’m alright right now, I think. What's your most visited website? It would probably be Twitter. Are you tired? A bit. My hangover is gone but I didn’t get enough sleep overall today, so I’m still feeling a bit tired. What's the best time you've had in the past week? I had a date with Gab yesterday! We don’t get to have legit dates where we wear dresses and heels and go to a classy restaurant all the time, but we planned one out yesterday. It was amazing; we had dinner at this cute place and it was kinda dark so we got to have a candle at our table and just talked for hours :3 It was pretty late when we ended and we were about to go home, but we happened to pass by a jazz bar where a live band was playing so we dropped by for around an hour or so no matter how late it was. I had two Long Island Iced Teas too, so that added to the fun wahahaha. Have you ever been in a fist fight? No. Can you cook? Not even to save my life. What time is it? 7:14 PM. Do you love animals? Yes. <3 What's the last thing you touched that wasn't a part of the computer? My phone. What color are your eyes? Black. Are you waiting for a phone call? Not right now, no. Does it annoy you when dogs pant a lot? Why would it annoy me? Who's one person you care about more than yourself? Gab, clearly. How many hours of sleep did you get last night? Four. I only got to sleep by 2 AM but I had to wake up at 6 AM to prepare for morning mass, u g h. Are there any pets you're wishing for? Nope, I’m more than content with my dog. When's the last time you used hand sanitizer? Maybe in the last week or so, I’m not super certain. Are you waiting for a phone call? Again, no. Wearing anything that isn't yours? Nope, both top and bottom are mine. What is the most annoying thing in the world, to you? STUPID DRIVERS Whatcha gonna do now? =] Take another survey, hopefully.

#survey #surveys