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dwaynepride · 5 years

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Wishful Thinking

Summary: Palm reading. Dank basements. And a very skeptical Sebastian Lund.

Words: 4,164

Warnings: None

Tags: @stanathanxoox @pageofultron @starryrevelations @thebeckyjolene @diaryofafan17 @specialagentlokitty

Notes: highkey inspired by that one “avatar the last airbender” episode bc im trashy like that

Sebastian had successfully buried himself in his work. It was a difficult feat, with all the distractions around the office. For a while, he wondered if he’d actually be able to get anything done tonight. You’d think the peace and quiet would lend itself as the ideal working environment, but evidently not.

Because you started laughing again. Echoed and distant in the kitchen, but still loud enough to cut through Sebastian’s focus and pull his head up to look over.

He exhales slowly, eyebrows pulling together as he wonders - not for the first time tonight - what the hell that little old lady was saying to make you laugh so much. Madame Theresa was a fortune teller, not a comedian. She read palms and dealt tarot cards all day - and yet, you were laughing like old friends.

Sebastian’s never been one to believe in fortune tellers. They’re a diamond dozen in New Orleans, and if you’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all. It was just a stroke of bad luck that Madame Theresa happened to be the sole witness in their case. The only person who saw the attack on the dead Lieutenant she had just scammed- no, told his fortune for a fee.

He had no doubt she was probably spouting out the same nonsense to you. She’s been reading everybody’s palms all day.

And yet, despite his reluctance to believe a single word she says, Sebastian can’t deny how curious he is. What she’s telling you. He blames his inner scientist, but Sebastian knows he’s just curious about anything that involves you.

He hesitates. Glances to the front door before standing from his desk and sneaking to the kitchen archway with silent feet. Sebastian flattens himself against the wall, heart beating just a little faster once you speak up again; louder, because he’s so much closer. “Can you tell me something specific? About my future?” You ask, voice bright and curious and Sebastian can’t stifle just a small wave of affection.

“Specific how?”

Madame Theresa’s strong Southern drawl wipes it away.

You hesitate, letting out a shy little huff of air, and he can imagine you shrugging. “Uh, well, about my love life.”

Oh, Score. He came at just the right time. Any sense of guilt about eavesdropping melts away at the intense curiosity Sebastian feels at the fortune teller’s answer. Not that it matters, anyway. It was just a scam.

There’s a bit of silence, maybe a small hum as Madame Theresa reads your palm. Sebastian’s heart beats faster, and he’s suddenly worried about not being able to hear her answer. But then she speaks, her drawl as confident and mystic as it always is. “You already know the person you’re destined to marry.”

“Really?”

Really? Sebastian pushes his head closer to the opening.

“Yes. He’s a very good man. Perhaps not somebody you ever thought you would fall in love with when you met him. But it’s as clear as day, honey, that you two are written in the stars.”

Could it possibly be him? Madame Theresa’s words were vague, at best. But Sebastian doesn’t have much time to dwell on the predication before you speak up again. “Do you know who it is? Like, a specific person?”

Oh man.

“I don’t. But I can tell you what he’s like...”

“Sebastian?”

The sound of his name, loud and ringing through the office, puts a rod in the agent’s spine. He straightens up, whipping away from the archway and looking over as Pride and Tammy come in from the open door. “What’re you doing?” Pride continues as he goes behind his desk.

Sebastian leans against the staircase, attempting to seem nonchalant while panicking internally. “Me? I’m not doing anything.” Smooth.

Gregorio gives a disbelieving snort, her eyebrows knitted together. “Didn’t look like nothing,” she counters.

“I was stretching my legs.”

He holds his breath, preparing himself for a barrage of questions. But movement to his left makes Sebastian turn his head, watching you pad out of the kitchen with Madame Theresa in tow. They must have heard the commotion of Gregorio’s accusations, but the only thing Sebastian notices is the light smile on your face. Barely there, but he sees it.

You turn and look at him. Eyes meeting for a moment before he lowers his gaze with a sudden fierce blush. Did you know he’d been spying?

Sebastian eventually registers Pride’s voices in the background, talking to the fortune teller. “-appreciate your cooperation, your statements really helped us. Agent Y/N can take you now.”

“No, I can do it.”

The offer to taxi the Madame home was out before Sebastian could reel it in. In an instant, all eyes were on him, and he struggled not to shrink under the attention of his team. You, especially, since you seemed to surprised. “I mean, Y/N’s been running around all day and I’ve only been doing desk work. I’m sure they’re tired.”

Tammy is giving him that suspicious look again. Sebastian ignores it in favour of looking over to you, giving him a happy smile that made the awkward moment worth it. “Thanks, Sebastian. I appreciate it.”

You part ways with Madame Theresa, and Sebastian pointedly keep his eyes away from Gregorio as he leads her out of the building. Opens the passenger side door for her, and then climbs into the driver’s seat; all without a word. Deep down, he knows why he volunteered to drive her home. But now he’s hesitant - wondering if it’s even a good idea. “So, uh, I overheard you reading Y/N’s palm, back there,” Sebastian says, keeping his voice nonchalant.

He chances a brief glance to Madame Theresa, who wears a light smile. “I was. An’ I’m not about to read yours while you’re drivin’. Keep those skinny hands on the wheel, Mr. Agent.”

“No, no, ma’am, that’s not what I wanted,” Sebastian fumbles out, and his hands squeeze the steering wheel tight. “I just...wanted to know what you saw in their palm.” Sebastian pauses, and then forces the last thought out. “About who they’d marry?”

Madame Theresa is quiet, and he can feel her stare against the side of his head while Sebastian drives in silence. He wants to break contact with the road and look at her; to gauge her reaction to his request. But he stays focused on the road, his heart beating faster than normal until she finally responds. “I dunno. Sounds like something that should be kept between me and your little friend,” she says.

“What? You’re not a doctor; you’re not bound to secrecy.”

A slow, thoughtful hum worries Sebastian as he comes up on her home. He puts the car in park, about to give Madame Theresa the same “thank you for your help” talk that Pride gave her earlier before the elder woman beside him reached out. Wiry fingers curling around his hand and pulling it closer - turning until his palm was facing upward, and she lets out another slow hum at what she finds. “What?” Sebastian can’t help but ask.

The fortune teller traces one of the lines of his palm. “Your love line,” she answers, tone light with curiosity. “Mighty similar to your friend’s. Might even go so far to say they’re connected.”

“Connected?” Sebastian echoes. “What does that mean?”

How the hell can they be connected?

Madame Theresa releases his hand, looking up into his confused face before patting his cheek with a smile. “You’ll see,” she answers. Frustratingly vague and worryingly certain.

Sebastian watches as she walks up to her home, and then starts the quiet drive back to the office. And he isn’t thinking about why he’s putting so much merit on some palm reader, surprisingly.

No, Sebastian is wondering what a love line was.

It was muggy in the swamps, as it usually is, but the team is just thankful that it’s a cloudy day. They were safe from the harsh sunlight and the heat it’ll bring, even if the humidity made it hard for Sebastian to breathe. He was already sweating as he strapped his vest on, wincing as the cicadas assaulted his ears with their loud chirps.

His eyes wonder upward to study the house they’ll be raiding in just a few minutes. Though, “house” is a strong word for this standing pile of wood and stone. Sebastian was sure that either one of them could look at it wrong, and it would fall over. Busted windows, chipped white paint. It looked like there was a hole in the roof, but he was too far away to be sure.

Sebastian was so focused on the house, he barely registered when you came up beside him, nudging his arm with yours to get his attention. “Nervous?” You ask him with a smirk.

“No,” he answers instantly. And he pointedly ignores the flutter of butterflies in his belly. Mostly because he can’t distinguish it from pre-raid jitters, or because you’re standing so close.

You let out a doubtful hum, eyes narrowed playfully. “You were staring off into the distance. I figured you were just worried that something would go wrong.”

“What could go wrong?”

“I dunno,” you shrug, and then give him another nudge on the arm. Softer, this time. “But either way, I’ll be with you the entire time.”

In reality, there was no real reason to be worried. This raid wasn’t for an arrest; Chris found this address and theorized that it’d be a good hideaway for their suspect. The only thing the team expected to find was a murder weapon, if they’re lucky. By the look of it, the only danger was the house itself. And yet, Sebastian immediately felt a whole lot better when you said that, and smiled at him after.

The butterflies were still there, though. They never really went away.

Pride led the way up to old ramshackle house; LaSalle and Tammy behind him while sending you and Sebastian around back. He followed your lead once Pride gave the signal to head in. Barging through patio doors where the windows had long-since been knocked out. Sebastian’s nose wrinkled at the smell of mildew, but he stayed focused on clearing the house. Making sure you were always in his line of sight.

“Clear!”

One by one, Sebastian heard the others clear the large house through the mic. Gregorio and Pride made their way upstairs, but it was clear nobody was home. So Sebastian started to relax a little as he moved his eyes over to you.

The only light to see by was what little sunlight streamed in from dirty windows and tattered curtains, but it was enough to see that you were studying little knick knacks on top of the fireplace. Layers on layers of dust and grime, but they still fascinated you.

Only Sebastian was aware of the long, awkward silence in the room. The heavy footsteps overhead wasn’t enough to drown it out. So, steeling himself, Sebastian walks towards you as normally as possible. “What’d you find?” He asks, nodding to the mantle when you glance back.

And you shrug at his question. “Not much. Just...things that were left behind, I guess.”

Sebastian stops when he reaches your side, taking a look for himself. There were a few photographs that have long since become unrecognizable. A few statuettes; the things you’d expect on a mantle of a house. “I think LaSalle said this house was abandoned during Katrina,” Sebastian says, eyes rising and glancing at the walls. “I guess it’s a miracle it’s still standing.”

You hum in agreement. “Yeah,” you reach out and pick up one of the statuettes, not minding the dust, “still a little sad, though.”

His attention returns to you, turning the dusty little figurine around in a solemn silence. And there’s an unexpected jolt in his chest; you cared so much. So deeply. The sight of a dumpy house and dusty knick knacks were enough to make you care about...what? The house? The knick knacks? Whatever it was, it made Sebastian smile.

And he was so lost in his thoughts, he nearly missed a low, creaking sound. A groan that shook him out of his own head, and as Sebastian started looking around, you did the same with a confused frown. “What’s the sound?” You ask, voice low and cautious.

“I don’t know,” he answers in the same tone. Sebastian takes a step back from the fireplace, and there’s another deep groan - louder, this time. More threatening, and it sends a chill up his spine. Because the noise is coming from the floor beneath his own feet.

You take a step, as well, having not come to the conclusion that he has. And Sebastian didn’t have time to warn you before the old wooden floor instantly started cracking and splitting. Before he could even think about turning and running to safety, the ground underneath him was gone, and Sebastian felt the gut-pulling sensation of free-falling. And the fall itself wasn’t that far; it was only into the basement. A single story, at most. But the suddenness of it made him yell out, and he faintly heard your own terrified screech as the two of you dropped into the dark, dank basement.

It was over as soon as it started. Sebastian was on his back, eyes screwed shut, instantly coughing up dust and dirt and God knows what else. Carefully, he rolled onto his side, cautious of any pain or numbness that might come with moving, but he felt nothing. It doesn’t seem like he broke or sprained anything. He might develop some kind of lung infection from breathing in all this nasty stuff, but for now, he was fine.

And that’s when Sebastian’s eyes shot open, meeting blackness and dust particles that he tried to blink through.

Were you alright?

His head whirls to his left, where you’d been standing on the ground level. And his limbs go numb with relief when Sebastian finds you there, moving around and making little noises. Alright, you haven’t broken your neck or anything, but...

You were groaning. Still slumped against the floor. The drop shouldn’t have stunned you that much unless something was wrong. Instantly, he pushes himself closer, stomach tight with the fear that you were seriously hurt. “Hey, Y/N? You okay? Can you hear me?” He can’t help but belt out question after question.

But you nod anyway. Turn your head to face him, even if your eyes are still closed. And that’s when he sees it; the thin stream of blood trickling down your face from your temple. You must’ve hit your head on something.

His breath is suddenly short. Skin clammy, and it’s a good thing Chris started shouting from the upper floor to bring his attention back to reality. When Sebastian looks up, he barely sees the face of his friend glancing down from above. “Y’all alright, down there?”

“Yeah,” Sebastian croaks out, and then shakes his head. “Uh, Y/N’s bleeding. Probably hit their head on something.”

“We called for some help. Just stay put down there!”

That was easy for Sebastian to do. You weren’t going anywhere, and he wasn’t about to leave you.

Slowly, you were able to blink open your eyes. Just barely, though. Sebastian had a hard time finding the brilliant colour of your eyes. “Sebastian?” You mumble out. And your hand rises, as if searching him out.

He easily grips it tight, nodding his head. “I’m here. LaSalle called for help. They should be here soon.”

You physically relax at his words. And Sebastian is well aware that this situation is a serious one; you were hurt badly. But he can’t stop himself from noticing just how good your hand felt slotted against his. Soft, despite the dust and grime. Natural, as if it was supposed to be there.

He forces himself to focus on you, instead. “How much does your head hurt?” Sebastian asks worryingly.

“Pretty bad. Hard to keep my eyes open.”

Those words sent a jolt of alarm up his spine, and Sebastian starts shaking his head, even if you can’t see him. “No, no, no, you have to stay awake. You probably have a concussion.”

Your head lolls, fighting to do as he says, but Sebastian can tell it’s hard. “So talk to me,” you tell him simply.

Alright. He can do that. He’s never had trouble rambling about dumb topics, in the past.

But now, when you’re asking him to help keep you awake, Sebastian is suddenly devoid of any mundane topics. He’s juggling from one thing to the next, knowing they wouldn’t be enough to hold your attention, until he comes to one that has potential. A topic that’s been on the forefront of his mind since last night. Sebastian hesitates on bringing it up, but his mouth seems to have a mind of its own. “Madame Theresa,” he blurts out, “what kind of predictions did she make?”

For a moment, he wonders if this could be seen as straying into your privacy. But you smirk at the question; at least you’re smiling. “Nothing interesting,” you answer. “Stuff about my career and luck. I’ll be seeing a family member, pretty soon.” You stop, as if contemplating your next words. “And then something about already knowing the person I’m supposed to marry.”

Sebastian’s mouth goes dry. His mind goes blank, and he barely hears your next words. “Did she read your palm? I know you don’t really believe in stuff like that...”

“She read it.”

“And? What did she say?”

He’s hesitant to be honest, in your state. Wonders if it’s a good idea to spill everything that Madame Theresa told him. But your eyes are starting to flutter again, and Sebastian can’t have you nodding off. “She said that my love line was similar to yours.”

That woke you up. When your eyes open up wider than they have since falling down here, Sebastian can’t help but flicker his eyes away. “I’m- I’m sure that just means that I know my future spouse, as well. Which isn’t very surprising, given how many people we come into contact with on the job. Surely, by now, I must’ve met the person I’ll marry, someday...”

He’s rambling again. And you’re focus on him starts to dwindle because of it. He chances to shake you awake, wincing when your eyes shoot open again. “Sorry,” Sebastian says.

“No, it’s okay.” You turn your head to face him, blinking your eyes open against the pull of sleep. Keeping your gaze squarely on him, smirking just a bit. “You’re a good man. If I had to fall through the floor with someone, I’m glad it was with you.”

Your hand tightens around his, as if making sure Sebastian was there and he wasn’t leaving. He squeezes back immediately, mouth opening to ask you some more questions about the dumb palm readings. But there’s a noise from outside the house; it’s faint and barely there, from his position in the basement. But it’s the unmistakable sound of an ambulance siren.

He puffs out a breath of relief, because your eyes were starting to droop again.

Time, unfortunately, seemed to stretch on as soon as Sebastian sat in the empty chair beside your bed. Being rescued by the paramedics, being driven to the hospital, getting checked out by nurses; it all flew past in a whirl. But now that Sebastian was sitting here in silence, each minute felt like five.

The doctor said your concussion wasn’t dangerously bad. That you wouldn’t be asleep for too much longer. Right now, he had a hard time believing him.

Sebastian, for once in his life, let his mind slow down. He was tired; having not gotten too much sleep last night because of what Madame Theresa said, and the ordeal in the house. The sound of your heart monitor was strangely lulling.

Maybe, if the silence stretched on for a little longer, he would’ve fallen asleep. But Sebastian hears you shift under the hospital sheets, and just as he’s blinking his eyes open, that’s when he hears your voice - low and groggy. “Sebastian?”

He sits straight up in his chair, not even attempting to hide the excitement and relief and maybe just a little bit of worry written plainly on his face. The doctor did say you’d be fine, but Sebastian was a scientist. He wasn’t happy unless he can see for himself. “Hey, you’re okay,” he replies lightly, moving to the very edge of the chair. “You’ve been asleep for a few hours. Everyone came by and asked about you before they left.”

“And you stayed?”

Sebastian hoped you’d be too out-of-it to catch that, so he gives a shy half-shrug. “Yeah, I mean, I didn’t want you to wake up all by yourself. If I had a concussion and woke up alone in the hospital, I’d be a little freaked out.” Was there any way to say that and still sound tough? Probably not.

Either way, you’re smiling at him, so it can’t be that bad.

And it was good to see you smile. Despite the bandage on your head and how groggy you look, the smile was just as bright and beautiful as it always has been. Still had the same power to make his heart speed up.

Sebastian didn’t even notice the moment start to drag until the door of your room opened slowly, as if trying not to make too much noise. His head whirls around, expecting a nurse or a doctor who was here to check on you. Instead, Pride is walking through the door, seeing that you’re awake and looking very pleased.

What surprised Sebastian the most is following his boss was Madame Theresa herself. He couldn’t help the blink of surprise. How his spine straightened at the sight of her reflecting Pride’s delighted expression. Sebastian looks back, and you look equally as surprised, if not just a little happy to see the old fortune teller.

And before Sebastian can ask any one of his questions, Madame Theresa takes a step closer to the bed, her smile never wavering. “Agent Pride here told me what happened an’ I wanted to stop by. Check on you myself,” she explains cheerfully.

Your smile widens a bit, and all Sebastian can do was look back and forth between you two. “I’m fine, thank you. Just a bump on the head. I’ll be going home later.”

“Oh, that’s good,” Madame Theresa purrs out, and her hands come to fold together in front of her. “I don’t want’chu two makin’ a liar outta me.”

“A liar?” You echo.

“Mhmm. I told this tall one just last night,” her hand motions to Sebastian sitting silently in the chair, “that your love lines are connected. And I’ve never been wrong before.”

Yeah, Sebastian thought, but you never explained what it meant. You left me to figure it out by myself.

With a light hum, Madame Theresa turns and walks herself out of the room, Pride following her with a confused look on his face. The door shuts behind him, and the room is silent once again. Not the comfortable silence of before; it’s a little more awkward, this time. The two of you waiting for the other to pluck up the courage to speak first, now that the fortune teller left a huge elephant in the room.

“I kinda had a feeling.”

Sebastian’s gaze whips up when you speak, and you smile at the puzzled furrow of his eyebrows. “Huh?”

“That she was talking about you, last night. While reading my palm,” you clarify before averting your eyes down. Were you embarrassed?

His mouth is dry, but he forces himself to speak. “Really? Why?”

You just shrug at his question. “She said I’d marry a good man. One that I already knew. And you were just...the first one who came to mind. And when you told me that our love lines were connected, back at the house, I just kinda put it together,” you explain. And Sebastian could see you were hesitant; as if afraid you’ve read this whole thing wrong.

His face grows warm, but this is no time to be awkward. Sebastian reaches his hand out, carefully curling it around the hand you’ve had sitting on the bed. And immediately, your palm turns to press against his, holding it like you held it in the basement of the house.

But this setting was much more to Sebastian’s liking - peaceful. Quiet. With clean air.

Your head rests back against the pillow, and he can tell you’re pretty close to falling asleep again. And Sebastian elects to let you, as he’s a little too focused on the pair of conjoined hands sitting on stark white sheets.

The grip is loose and open, and Sebastian can’t help but to start analyzing each and every line etched across your palm.

#ncis new orleans x reader #ncis new orleans reader insert #sebastian lund x reader #sebastian lund imagine #ncis nola x reader

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nataliehasanimagination · 5 years

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Valentine’s Day With the Ragnarssons

Happy Valentine’s Day everybody!

Bjorn Ironside

- Forgets about Valentine’s Day

- Feels guilty when he sees you, beautiful and pregnant hovering over him, the sun from the windows casting a glow around you, eyes full of love when you wish him a Happy Valentine’s Day thinks he doesn’t deserve you

- Doesn’t let you know he forgot

- Improvises

- Showers you and your pregnant belly with kisses

- He makes you breakfast in bed

- Takes you to the lake where you first met

- Lets you put a flower crown on him

- Secretly loves when you make him flower crowns because he loves the way your face lights up even more when you look at him

- Making out comes to a halt when you suddenly shriek and jump away

- Your water broke

- Valentine’s Day baby

Ubbe

- Everything’s all taken care of

- Breakfast with your parents and younger siblings? Check.

- Lunch with your other couple friends? Check.

- A romantic dinner at your favorite place? Check.

- Come home to lit candles and scattered rose petals thanks Hvitserk

- Tells you how much he loves you and how you make him the happiest man alive

- He proposes

- You say yes how could you not

- Kisses, kisses, and more kisses

- Draws a bubble bath for the two of you

- Constant I love you’s

Hvitserk

- A day where you show how much you love someone? He’s here for it

- Wakes you up with kisses and flowers

- You think today is going to be filled with the one thing Hvitserk most loves to do

- You’re wrong

- Kind of

- Turns out Hvitserk’s been up for hours

- Doing what? kind of suspicious

- BAKING

- Carries you outside to the living room

- Narrowing your eyes when you see the contraption of blankets blocking the kitchen from your view

- Tells you not to worry about it

- Whole morning is spent eating an array of red, white, and pink cakes, cookies, pies, tarts, and donuts

- Finding out the reason he’s been absent these past few weeks is because he was learning to bake for you

- In awe that he would do that for you

- You start making out

- About to lead him to the bedroom but he stops you although it pains him

- Takes you to Bjorn’s house

- Raising your eyebrows because you know about his past sharing girls highkey about to hit him upside the head so far he doesn’t wake up til next Valentine’s Day

- Assures you that’s not what you’re here for

- Kittens

- Bjorn’s daughter brought home what she thought was just a fat cat. It was pregnant.

- You take a kitten home

- Hvitserk loving to watch you play with the kitten

- When the kitten gets tired you both head inside to your bedroom

- You show Hvitserk just how much you loved this Valentine’s day

- A Valentine’s day baby is definitely conceived that night

Sigurd

- Quiet early morning stroll with you

- Packs a picnic and his oud

- Setting up for the day in a large clearing

- He sings new songs he’s written for you and some older favorites of yours

- Lazy kisses

- Laying out in the sun

- Staring at the blue sky

- Whispered I love you’s

- Braiding flowers into his hair

- Dancing with each other

- Swaying

- Cuddles filled with stares of adoration and fingertips tracing patterns on skin

- Proposes when you turn around to face him after singing and dancing with yourself

- It’s spur of the moment and wraps a flower that you had braided into his hair around your finger

- Promises to get you a real ring even though you say it’s perfect

- You get married that night, it’s quick and there’s no time to prepare but both of your families are there and that’s all you really need

Ivar

- Used to think Valentine’s Day was stupid

- Now he loves it because he actually has someone

- Morning spent cuddling and eating an elaborate breakfast he had the thrall’s prepare

- Presents you with his first gift of the day when the two of you finally get out of bed

- A intricately detailed red dress that once you have on, highlights all your assets

- He finishes the outfit off with his second present, a beautiful necklace that was nothing like you had ever seen before

- Him smirking when he sees your face light up

- You don’t normally let him give you gifts because you don’t ever want him to think you’re with him for his wealth and not for him himself

- He takes you to the festival -to show you off and make the other men jealous-

- Also lowkey glares at anybody who looks your way

- Giving him a look when you realize what he’s doing

- He buys you chocolates and flowers and a knitted bear he sees you staring at

- You tell him the bear will be for your future child

- Ivar’s practically glowing at the fact that you’re talking about having children with him

- Refuses to dance in public and instead has you sit on his lap when you stop to listen to the musician

- Dances with you when you get home later instead

- A romantic candlelit dinner

- Roses scattered on the bed

- Eating a crapton of chocolate after and falling into a chocolate coma

---

Tags - @caswinchester2000

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scardohertys-blog · 6 years

Photo

GENERAL:

NAME: Scarlett Marina Kaufman Doherty

NICKNAME: Some people call her Scar, much to her irritation. It’s not even a cute nickname.

BIRTHDAY: January 16

AGE: 32.

GENDER: Cis Female.

PLACE OF BIRTH: Petaluma, California.

PLACES LIVED SINCE: Oakland, California, Cape Hazel

CURRENT RESIDENCE: Cape Hazel, Maine

NATIONALITY: American.

ETHNICITY: Ashkenazi Jewish.

PARENTS’ NAMES: Adina and Vadim Kaufman.

NUMBER OF SIBLINGS: None.

PERSONALITY TYPE: ESTP- A - THE ENTREPRENEUR

body image mention, abandonment

RELATIONSHIP WITH FAMILY: Strained. One-sided. Basically non-existent. When Scarlett hit her teen years, she’d come to the conclusion that her mother wanted a child, but she didn’t want to be a mother to that child. Their conversations consisted mainly of Scarlett’s appearance and body image, pushing her to be the most prim and proper of ladies. Her mother never called her beautiful. Vadim, on the other hand, was never around to have a real conversation with his daughter, having gone out to meet with his mistress of the year. Might as well not even have a father. She’s cut herself off from her family to the point where she legally changed her last name so she could pretend she was not related to them. After getting many phone calls from her mom when she first moved away, Scarlett changed her phone number and blocked her mom from every social media platform.

CHILDHOOD TRAUMA: When Adina found out about her husband’s many affairs, she blamed Scarlett’s birth, having said that if she never gave birth to Scarlett perhaps her figure could still be desirable enough for her husband. She then proceeded to send ten year old Scarlett away to live with a Filipino couple in their mid-50s in Oakland, who raised her until she turned 17. Scarlett continued to feel unwanted by her own mother.

PHYSICAL:

HEIGHT: 5′4″

WEIGHT: 120 lbs.

BUILD: Slim and petite.

HAIR COLOR: Dark brown.

USUAL HAIR STYLE: She styles it differently every other day, but when she’s concentrating, she pulls it back in a high ponytail. When it’s down, the length is just two inches below her shoulder blades.

EYE COLOR: Her right eye is green-blue and her left eye is a hazel color.

GLASSES? CONTACTS?: Neither.

STYLE OF DRESS/TYPICAL OUTFIT(S): Scarlett dresses in very trendy, designer clothing. A casual coffee outfit would be a cream colored blouse with dark wash skinny jeans and a pair of brown booties, with her hair in a messy bun and gold hoop earrings.

TYPICAL STYLE OF SHOES: High heels.

JEWELRY? TATTOOS? PIERCINGS?: She got her belly button pierced in high school, and she also has her ears typically pierced.

SCARS: She has a scar toward the back of her neck, right below her ear from trying to cut her own hair when she was nine years old. Her mother was less than pleased, to say the least.

UNIQUE MANNERISMS/PHYSICAL HABITS: She’ll lick her lips almost every time she takes a sip of coffee. When she’s drinking wine, she likes to tap her index finger just below the rim.

ATHLETICISM: She’s not into fitness, like at all. She loves to eat and she loves to drink. Her main source of exercise is walking for miles in her heels and running around stores.

HEALTH PROBLEMS/ILLNESSES: None.

INTELLECT:

LEVEL OF EDUCATION: High school diploma.

LANGUAGES SPOKEN: Fluent in both English and Russian, but English is her first language. She also can have conversational French.

LEVEL OF SELF-ESTEEM: It had taken a while for Scarlett to be comfortable in her own skin, just because her entire life she was told by her mother that she was never good enough, never pretty enough, or smart enough. As she continued to build her business, slept around with as many people as she desired, her confidence grew. People tell her she’s beautiful, and she never disagrees.

GIFTS/TALENTS: Public speaking, flattering, styling and outfitting someone. Pretending her parents don’t exist.

MATHEMATICAL?: NOPE. The only time she’s mathematical is when she’s figuring out how much she’ll save on a sale.

MAKES DECISIONS BASED MOSTLY ON EMOTIONS, OR ON LOGIC?: Both, I wanna say. Scarlett can be impulsive and controlling at times, but that’s driven by anger, irritation and lust. She usually cuts off most emotions when it comes to people.

LIFE PHILOSOPHY: When you don’t have your shit together, you have to dress like you do.

RELIGIOUS STANCE: She was raised Jewish but she’s not particularly religious.

CAUTIOUS OR DARING?: Daring.

MOST SENSITIVE ABOUT/VULNERABLE TO: Her childhood. Having moved across the country where hardly anyone knew her at the age of eighteen, it was a chance to have a fresh start.

OPTIMIST OR PESSIMIST?: Pessimist.

EXTROVERT OR INTROVERT?: Extrovert.

RELATIONSHIPS:

CURRENT RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Single.

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Bisexual.

PAST RELATIONSHIPS: Scarlett has only ever had one serious relationship when she was 25. He was the definition of the perfect boyfriend, everything she thought she should want but nothing seemed right. Two years into their relationship, he proposed and impulsively she accepted believing she was in love with him. Just days later she regretted her decision. Thinking she would catch wedding fever, she stuck to the engagement and continued to plan out the wedding but emotionally became distant from her fiance. A year into their engagement in the middle of an argument, he asked if she loved him, and she took too long to respond. Three days after that, she gave back the ring. Nothing else is worth mentioning. She usually keeps her relationships casual, hardly sleeps with anyone more than twice, and even that’s pushing it.

PRIMARY REASON FOR BEING BROKEN UP WITH: Emotionally distant, doesn’t want a serious relationship.

PRIMARY REASONS FOR BREAKING UP WITH PEOPLE: Doesn’t want a serious relationship.

EVER CHEATED?: No, not at all. She would never do that to someone because she saw the damage her father did from his multiple affairs.

BEEN CHEATED ON: No. Other than her three year relationship, she hasn’t been in a relationship serious enough for it to get to that point.

LEVEL OF SEXUAL EXPERIENCE: She doesn’t date, but she frequently has one night stands.

STORY OF FIRST KISS: Her first kiss was with her best friend in 8th grade during a sleepover when she suggested that they should kiss since Scarlett said she was bored.

STORY OF LOSS OF VIRGINITY: It’s nothing exciting. In fact, it’s quite cliche which she hates. She lost her virginity the night of Junior Prom with a guy she had AP Bio with.

A SOCIAL PERSON?: Superficially, yes, but he’s very particular with who he deems as a close friend.

MOST COMFORTABLE AROUND: A bottle of red wine.

OLDEST FRIEND: CONNECTION OPEN.

HOW DOES HE THINK OTHERS PERCEIVE HER?: Charismatic, witty, beautiful.

HOW DO OTHERS ACTUALLY PERCEIVE HER?: Brutal, pretentious, beautiful

SECRETS:

LIFE GOALS: Still up in the air.

DREAMS: To be a stylist on a Hollywood-type of level.

GREATEST FEARS: Not living an exciting life/growing complacent.

MOST ASHAMED OF: Her parents.

CRIMES COMMITTED (WAS HE CAUGHT? CHARGED?): Underage drinking, but I mean, lmao. She also stole a pair of shoes from a department store when she was 14, but was never caught.

DETAILS/QUIRKS:

NIGHT OWL OR EARLY BIRD?: Night Owl.

LIGHT OR HEAVY SLEEPER?: Heavy sleeper.

FAVORITE ANIMAL: Eh.

FAVORITE FOOD: Sinigang and rice. Half of her childhood consisted of her learning how to make Filipino dishes because of who she lived with.

LEAST FAVORITE FOOD: Highkey salad. Highkey, anything vegan.

FAVORITE BOOK: Lean In: Women, Work, and the Will to Lead by Sheryl Sandberg

LEAST FAVORITE BOOK: Doesn’t care enough to have a least favorite book.

FAVORITE MOVIE: She’ll say Roman Holiday but it’s really Terms of Endearment.

LEAST FAVORITE MOVIE: The Notebook.

FAVORITE SONG: Linger by The Cranberries but anything by Barry White. She loves Motown.

FAVORITE SPORT: She loves basketball and is biased toward the Golden State Warriors.

COFFEE OR TEA?: Wine. But coffee, yeah.

CRUNCHY OR SMOOTH PEANUT BUTTER?: Crunchy.

TYPE OF CAR HE DRIVES: Silver Rolls Royce.

LEFTY OR RIGHTY?: Right-handed.

FAVORITE COLOR: Burgundy.

CUSSER?: All the time.

SMOKER? DRINKER? DRUG USER?: She used to smoke, but quit after she ended her engagement. But yes, drinker. Loves to drink. It’s her favorite hobby.

BIGGEST REGRET: Letting her relationship with her fiance go on too long, because then she broke his heart.

PETS: None.

#chintro #about.#hello!!!!

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