#ft. civan guneri

[nate-strauss]

Nate and his bio-less instagram. ft. days at the library, his record player and one of his favourite albums, old date nights with @hollyparkcr (because he doesn't know he can delete posts and he rarely posts on instagram), card nights with @civanguneri, his gay fish and snow fights with his little sister.

[lia-lozano]

Location: Chapman's Grocer Starter for: @civanguneri

It was a strange experience for Lia to run into her or her friend's ex boyfriends. If she ran into hers, she'd probably end up pushing her shopping cart into him and hightailing it out of the next available exit, even if that happened to be an open window. When she had spotted Nathaniel in town the other day, she had glared at him so hard, an elderly lady had stopped to check she was an actual psychopath. There was no way to explain that she was hoping a hole opened up and swallowed a man whole, so she'd just walked away.

But as she rounded the corner of the little grocery store and spotted Civan, she didn't feel any hatred she felt for her or Holly's ex. She still didn't know what had really gone on with him and Mari, but she had always liked Civan. Even if she was a little bit sure he had only just about tolerated her. Raising a hand in a wave as she approached him, she could only smile. "Civvy, it's been a long time." Even if he more than tolerated her, she couldn't say the same for the nickname she had given him once when she was drunk. "It's nice to see you."

[nate-strauss]

"When she murders me, I'm going to need you to not say that at the trial. If she does do it, just don't let her get away with it." He couldn't remember exactly, but he was even sure one of the most vicious texts he'd received after it was clear he wasn't coming home was from the petite singer. "Hurt one of her best friends and we'll go into hiding together."

Picking up the coffee cup, Nate instantly took a sip of the coffee, even if it was going to be scalding hot. He'd been doing it for so long now, he barely even registered the intense heat of the drink. "But surely it's worse to not leave her alone when she wants space? She couldn't have got out of that cafe quicker, Civan, she obviously doesn't want to be around me." With another sip of coffee, Nate shrugged a shoulder. "I'm not going anywhere, she'll see me around town, but should I really be actively trying to be around her if that's not what she wants?"

In reality, he had no idea on how to approach the situation with Holly, having never ghosted anyone before, he wasn't sure on the protocol of what to do when the ghosting was reversed. "Is it not better to try and just let her come to a decision and then go from there?" Looking down at the coffee in the cup, he watched it the liquid move for a few seconds before looking over at his friend. "What would you do?"

"Before," Civan admitted with a shrug as he turned to busy himself pouring a fresh cup of coffee. "Before you left. Just some older guy, a teacher at her school. I'd have been difficult." Now, well, maybe it was better if they didn't know. They had a lot of property to hide a body. With a spoon he dropped a singular sugar cube into his friend's mug and placed it down diligently in front of the other man. "Lia is not capable of murder." Civan countered, as unhelpful as that was in the grand scheme of things. Civan turned to rinse the spoon and meticulously placed it back on the holder by his coffee station. "You what?" He looked over his shoulder, caught off guard. It wasn't exactly the response he'd expected. "I'm no relationship expert," hell he'd barely been in maybe three his entire life, "— but I am unsure that's the best idea." His hip leaned back against the kitchen counter, "You left. Your solution now that you're back is to... leave her alone?" Civan mulled it over, unable to think perhaps it was all a double-edged sword. Holly might need space, that was an unavoidable truth. He personally did better with it himself. "Showing some dedication theoretically would be better." His head tipped aside, pensive. "Even a 'I'm not going anywhere' verbally," Civan shrugged. "Reassurance more than an apology."

[alarakcplan]

ALARA'S PERSONAL AND ONLY IG FEATURING

a snapshot she grabbed of @selinymaz doing their favorite activity, eating; a fuzzy mirror selfie of her on her bike; documentation of her and her bestie, @civanguneri's special handshake; a snapshot of her practicing kickboxing; @coltonatwater after a night out blowing off steam from a particularly long shift; a pic Colt grabbed of her in her fire suit after getting her ass handed to her; a pic of her and her baby; a forbidded shot of the back of the ambulance rig; and a pic of her doing her favorite activity, eating.

[alarakcplan]

@civanguneri

[alarakcplan]

Alara tilted her head, quirking a brow at her best friend’s rose-colored-glasses approach to the new year. “Small triumphs, huh?” Her voice carried a bitter edge, one she didn’t bother softening. “What do you do when there are no small triumphs to celebrate, hmm, Civan?” 

“Being too much of a coward to come home before….” Her voice cracked, the sentence left unfinished. Her baba’s absence hung in the air like an unwelcome guest, heavier than any drink could drown out. 

She finally turned to meet his gaze, her expression defensive, almost daring him to counter her self-loathing. “You don’t get it. You always show up. You always do the right thing. You don’t have to live with the fact that the last words you said to your baba were on a phone screen because you were too damn afraid to come home.”

Civan and Selin were the only two people in the world who Alara had admitted to even a fraction of the pain she was going through. But this was more than she had ever admitted in the past, the alcohol in her system wreaking havoc on the emotions roiling inside her and causing them to overflow into poor Civan’s unsuspecting lap. There were no small triumphs when she thought back on the previous year. All she could see was the selfishness and fear that had clouded her judgement and kept her from being able to face the thought of her father dying. 

“Your couch sounds great, but it’s not going to change anything, dostum,” she said, her voice steadier now, if only because she was working so hard to keep it that way. “So, stop trying to save me tonight. You’re not going to win.”

But beneath the bravado, a tiny part of her hoped he wouldn’t give up. Hoped he’d see through the armor and stay anyway. Because if there was anyone who could sit with her in the mess of her grief, it was Civan. And, deep down, she knew it.

If there was one fundamental rule Civan had grown to understand, it was generally that the harder Alara pushed someone away the more she actually wanted you to stay. So, being persistent was a recurring need in their friendship. Fortunately, when it came to her, his well of patience ran deep. Sharp blues followed the motion of her hand, from the delicate line of his jacket to the bar. A knowing dread sat in his stomach. "That is not at all what New Year's is for." Civan scoffed. "It is to celebrate small triumphs, despite the mess of the previous year. Not to challenge yourself to as many missteps as possible before the ball drops." Which, was precisely why this party was in particular not his style. Something about the New Year translated into a lot of drinking. Not just the kind his friend was partaking in, out of an understandable grief. The kind that led to kissing someone you weren't supposed to and other sloppy behavior that made socializing all the more nightmarish. "My couch would be a far better place to count down the end of the year." There'd been a few times, in their history, in which Civan felt the extreme temptation to just haul Alara over his shoulder and separate her from a situation. Tonight felt like he could see the puzzle pieces lining up towards that very sort of trajectory. "Less vengeful resort staff, better food."

[marcoscntos]

Marco was spending as much time as he could at the beach these days. Soaking up the last remaining dregs of warmth that he could. Besides, after being locked in a cell for five years, the freedom a wide open beach offered, was something he had a hard time staying away from. He had spotted the group of people playing volleyball up ahead, but he was still a ways away and didn't pay much attention to who was playing until he was closer. He saw one of the players separate from the group and began heading towards the person who was walking several feet ahead of him. Only as he continued walking, getting closer to the conversation, did he begin to recognize the man who had left the game and hear what he was asking. Civan. Marco winced inwardly at the awkwardness of running into the son of the woman who owned the house Juan had broken into five years ago. He tried to speed up, hoping Civan wouldn't notice him, but as the person Civan was talking to turned down his offer and the younger man's eyes turned towards Marco, he knew there was no avoiding it now. "I'm guessing you don't need another team player that badly?" he offered, glancing over Civan's shoulder at the group of people waiting around the volleyball net.

Who | open ( capping at 3 ) Where | the beach. In the slowly dying out glimpses of summer heat, a deep chest rattling sigh escaped Civan as he was volunteered by his teammates to find a last minute substitute player. Why he of all people had been entrusted with the task he would never understand - but he begrudgingly obliged the others' urging. Bare feet carried him across the warm beach, stopping at the nearest beach goer who looked to be by themselves and of an age wherein they might actually agree to the favor and enjoy themselves. A hand raised to shield his eyes from the sun so he could look them in the eyes, offering what was a bit of an awkward forced smile. "Hey, uh, any chance you're up for a game of volleyball?" He'd gesture to the ball tucked under his left arm, as if that might be necessary. "Me and those guys..." he'd turn to glance back behind him to an equally shirtless crowd of adults around a volleyball net. "We're trying to get in a few season end plays, just for fun, and we had a no show."

[nate-strauss]

"I understood why for a while but a whole year of not only not telling them, but actively keeping it a secret? I don't know, it felt a bit like she wasn't as into it as I was or thought she was." It wasn't an excuse, but it was one of the loudest things in his head when he had been thinking things through back in DC. "Don't worry, I get it. If someone up and left my sister, I'd be planning where to bury the body, but I don't know how much the family even knows, so I don't know who's mad at me and who isn't."

Raising his eyebrows slightly, Nate couldn't quite believe just how different their perceptions of Holly's friend was. Having seen Lia in passing once since he got back, he'd genuinely been shocked he was still alive after the look she had given him and the obvious thoughts in her head. "Well you aren't the big bad wolf in Mari's story, are you? It's understandable why she doesn't want to kill you. If I can get a picture in the time it takes for her to give me the look but before she kills me, I'll grab one for you."

Nodding, Nate could almost feel his mouth begin to water. It might have been a bit of a cliche for a writer to be addicted to coffee, but there was little else he loved more throughout the day. "You know me so well, one sugar please." Blowing out a breath, Nate tapped his fingertips against the countertop. "I think I have to leave the ball in her court, you know? I've apologised, I've explained my reasons and made sure she knows that I don't try and excuse it, but I can't keep trying to force her into forgiveness. I tried making decisions for her once and it didn't work, so I need to leave it to her." Even if it went against everything he wanted in wanting to prove to her he was different now. "I'll stop being a sad sack soon so you don't block my number and pack away our matching cardigans."

Civan was quiet for a moment, hearing Nate out and debating with himself what the reasoning might be. He knew Weston. "I get why you'd be... unenthused about that." A stiff nod followed, "-but, I'll tell you right now. If I was her brothers, you'd be in some trouble." He was an only child, but Civan was historically over-protective of people he was close to. It didn't seem too far fetched for him to imagine Holly's family may be similar. "As your friend, I know your intentions are good, but..." a shrug decorated his shoulders. "It might've not been easy for her to tell them." It was rare for Civan to genuinely bark out a laugh, but mention of Lia setting Nathaniel on fire garnished the sound. "Lia?" Civan echoed in genuine shock. Mariana he would've guessed, but he had a hard time mentally picturing Lia so much as frowning at someone. "I need a picture next time if Lia is giving you the evil eye." The bright smiling young woman had been nothing but kind to him, but then again his situation with their friend and friend group was a little different. Civan rolled his eyes and plopped a mug on the counter for Nate, "Black?" he'd ask. "I guess I didn't really mean you can't have regrets, just... what're you going to do about it now seems more important."

[nate-strauss]

"It's not your worst trait, don't worry." Over the last year, Nate had many people in his life try and sugarcoat things to try and make him feel better but very few gave him the no bullshit attitude like Civan did. It might not be the easiest thing to hear immediately, but it ultimately was better than anything else.

Maybe he had downplayed his actions, hoping that it wouldn't have hurt Holly as much as it could've but as he took in his friend's words, Nate couldn't help but want to defend himself slightly. "There's that, but also.. she never told her family about us, you know? I guess a part of me wondered that if you're not sure enough about someone after a year to introduce them to your family, was it just not worth it to her." It had been the only real point of contention in their relationship and it was definitely something he'd clung onto when he'd made the decision to not try and contact her. "But at least I didn't have to try and get chai stains out of my shirt."

Raising his eyebrows slightly, Nate almost shuddered at the memory of the venom he'd received from Mari and the disgust on her face that he was back. "If she doesn't set me on fire, the other one will, Lia is it?" Shaking his head gently, Nate chuckled at the idea before he looked back to his friend. "Wouldn't you like to know? But letting go of the regrets is easier said than done at the minute, especially when I'm not seeing that coffee I was promised." He smirked at Civan, trying to lighten his own mood. "How're things with you anyway?"

"Wouldn't know how, even if I tried," Civan admitted openly. Whether that came from the lack of trying and practice, or, as he assumed an innate inability, would never be determined. At the end of the day, certain pleasantries seemed like a waste of time. His gaze dropped to scan Nate's attire, almost as if double-checking himself for evidence that the man had come out unscathed. As the other continued Civan's head tipped to one side, some genuine curiosity stamped across his otherwise placid features. "Interesting." Civan wasn't the friend you wanted to have if you were accustomed to avoidance, he spoke openly. "Makes sense you'd downplay your own actions." A shrug decorated his shoulders, "Wouldn't be too surprised. She's young. Given the timing of everything, you might have been her first serious relationship." Mention of Mariana stiffened his frame and Civan took a steady sip of his own warm beverage. He scoffed. "That is not shocking, if a bit hypocritical of her." Civan was not resentful, truly. He'd forgiven Mari a long time ago, but, she still wasn't exactly a paragon of healthy relationships. He didn't believe in throwing stones when you lived in a glass house. "The girls aside," Civan amended "— You had your reasons, and what's done is done. Regret gets no one very far, unless you've invented a time machine since we last met."

[lia-lozano]

As soon as he greeted her with such little enthusiasm, Lia's face brightened and her smile only seemed to grew. "Of course it is! You haven't changed at all, Civvy, I've missed you pretending you don't adore me." Throwing a wink in his direction, Lia held herself back from giving him a hug. She always had when he had been with Mari, but the least she could do on their little grocery store reunion was restrain herself slightly.

"I am, I'm having a solo night in and if I order in one more time, I'm going to get referred to takeouts anonymous, so I'm trying to get some inspiration on what to cook." Being on her own was still something Lia was getting used to, after being around at least one person pretty much constantly before she moved home. "I just end up talking to my cat because I don't really know how to go an evening without talking, but I suppose it's fun!" Looking at the shelves next to them and then at the spice jar Civan had picked up, Lia pursed her lips. "Are you here on your own as well? Do I get to bug you for a bit longer?"

Grocery shopping was starting to be a concerning task. Too many familiar faces to run into. Though, admittedly, the one that came attached to the brightly chimed 'Civvy' that cut through the air was a welcome one. Lia was an interesting soul. He hadn't the faintest idea where anyone acquired such an energetic presence. A basket secured on his arm, Civan turned to let his bright gaze snap aside towards her. There was always a little bit of a whisper at the back of his head to just pretend he didn't see or remember someone, but he didn't quite have the heart to blatantly ignore Lia. "Good evening," his greeting lacked her effortless enthusiasm. "Is it?" He quirked a brow, and the vaguest hint of a grin tugged at the corner of his lips. On reflex, Civan had shot a glance behind her. "You on your own today?" He inquired, unsure if one of the girls or her last known boyfriend might've been along for the errand. A part of him still always kind of quietly wished for opportunities to see Mari. Civan plucked another spice bottle from the shelf and then took a step toward her, unconsciously inviting the conversation forward.

[nate-strauss]

"You know, for a second, I thought you were going to sugar coat things and then I woke up and remembered where I was." Smirking a little, Nate leaned forward and against the island in Civan's kitchen. There were lots of things he was enjoying about being back in Briar Ridge, but being able to catch up with his friend, his old man, slipper wearing friend, in person, was one of the best things about it. He'd been willing to buy them a coffee to catch up with, especially as he had a lot of news, as usual, but neither of would've preferred to relaxing at Civan's home.

"I was pretty shocked I didn't walk out of there wearing the chai she'd ordered. She said it would be a waste but until I walked through my front door not wearing it, I wasn't sure that she wouldn't change her mind." Blowing out a deep breath, Nate shook his hand. "I don't know, I don't know what I expected but it was it and wasn't it all at once. I think I maybe underestimated just how much it hurt her. Maybe to make myself feel better, I don't know." Shaking his head, Nate pushed himself up to lean his hip against the island instead. "Then I saw your delight of an ex-girlfriend and she pretty much threatened to set fire to me, so all in all, it's been great."

@nate-strauss Where: Civan's home, Briar Ridge Hills. It was the perfect time of year. Cozying up with a book by the fire was the exact seasonal aesthetic and frankly, one that Civan could get behind. It was his day off, and so far he hadn't had to people. In hoping to keep it that way, the suggestion to meet up for coffee with Nate was countered with 'I have coffee'. Coffee, espresso, tea - Çaykur to be specific. You name it. Civan also had a very nice shiny pristine coffee machine. Best for the days he needed a quick shot of caffeine to keep him alert and standing upright. "So?" Civan questioned with a raised brow, looking across his kitchen island at Nate expectantly. He wasted very little time with pleasantries and instead got very quickly down to a different kind of tea. The 'listening to people's drama' variety, which he was fond of as long as he himself didn't have any. "I'll be honest. If she kicked you in the shins and ran for it, I wouldn't be shocked." Holly gave him the impression of a woman who'd put up a fight.

[alarakcplan]

As she took yet another sip from yet another drink, a tiny, still slightly self-aware part of Alara had to admit that Civan was far better off leaving her to her own devices tonight. She was truly on a mission to drink away the bone crushing pain she felt over being home for her first Yılbaşı in years and yet her father wouldn't be there and was therefore miserable company. The pain of a hangover would be a welcome distraction from the heartbreak she was trying to bury now and Civan didn't deserve to be stuck with her for the night.

But the already slightly tipsy Alara selfishly wanted- no, needed - the company of her best friend. The thought of truly being alone to deal with her demons was a terrifying one. And Alara was far too chicken to try to face them on her own. The comfort of Civan's presence was the only thing keeping her even somewhat grounded tonight, and she was grateful for it.

Having placed an order for another drink, she turned back to face the knight in shining armor she truly didn't deserve. "Civanım," she cooed, reaching out to affectionately pluck a piece of lint from his suit jacket. "While we can both agree the company is definitely not up to our standards," she paused to shoot a scathing look around the ballroom, before finally receiving her new glass and raising it towards him, "this, is very much right up my alley, Allah affetsin." With that, she brought the glass to her lips and took a healthy sip. Bringing her gaze up to meet his, she shrugged, "Besides, what is New Year's Eve for if not to make bad decisions you'll regret come the new year?"

@alarakcplan BR New Years Eve Bash "Ah, hadi ama!" Affectionate exasperation clung to his tone, his hand reached to steady hers and the thankfully mostly empty glass. "Think of the hangover," Civan leveled. Trying to be the reasonable contrast to her apparent need to drown her stress in alcohol. Despite her accusation of him being a 'party pooper', or a few other similar things, Civan was just genuinely concerned. He'd never drank himself, but he had learned over the years from playing DD and Drunk Babysitter that there were different kinds of drinking. A glass or two, for fun, and what his friend was currently on a mission for... seeking oblivion. His gaze was trained on her, and Civan stood like a protective brick wall towering over the woman in his six foot three stature. Shielding her from anyone else nearby, any judgmental onlookers included, but unfortunately Alara was still in place to escape towards the bar for a refill. "This isn't our scene," Civan attempted to change the way it was framed. "Room full of stuffy boring Sığır." He adjusted his collar, which though not fully buttoned up felt like it might still be suffocating him. The complaint was a genuine one, he was not a party-goer. If it wasn't for his concern for Alara he would've almost immediately dipped as soon as he could tell his mother he'd technically 'attended'.