#It's not that much but in my defense I am super busy+a very slow artist :')
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Paying the debt I have with Mister JelloApocalypse once and for all by giving him sum good doodles of his faves (it's just an excuse to finally draw Feenie)
Context under the cut:
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#epithet erased#It's not that much but in my defense I am super busy+a very slow artist :')#molly blyndeff#feenie ee#phoenica fleecity#art of a ghostie#art#digital art#Behold my first tries into making outfits on digital art#I might as well finish the doodles one day#Still super proud of the hug art piece#Tbh I am mostly using the joke I mada as an excuse of doodle sum Feenies
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Hello there! ♡
Oh boy..it's hard to pick between Overwatch and Resident Evil 8, xhisdnznksso I'll pick Overwatch match up! Please and thank you! This was actually a hard decision!
I'm agender, lesbian, INFJ (very accurate) and Gemini Sun, Aquarius Moon, and Leo Rising.
I'm 5'2, with blue eyes, fair skin, brown hair (I get headaches if it's too long ;-;) and a curvy body type. My clothing style is a bit wacky, I sorta wear anything and don't match. If I had a NASA sweater, I'd wear it all the time. I'm a BIG ole science nerd!
My dream job was to be an astronaut or something that deals with space entirely, but that got messed up in high school. Hence why it’s a dream now :(. Now it’s to be an artist or writer because it’s one of the ways I know how to express myself.
I'm not comfortable with my own feelings, so I have trouble expressing them, believing that if I do, only bad things will open. I often stay trapped in my own thoughts. I'm very loyal, can be awkward in most situations(very uncomfortable in social situations), selfless, and love to help people no matter what. Once I've opened up to anyone, I don't shut up, and I love to goof around with them. I don't actually get mad. It's a hard emotion to get out of me. However, I'm told that I am quite tone deaf, not with music but actually talking tones.
I love to write, draw, fold origami, play games and listen to music(any genre that isn't country). I enjoy space and looking at the stars, I can sit for hours talking about them. Scary movies, I LOVE watching them so much. I wish to travel the world but funds and a fear of heights stop me. Greek mythology is wonderful as well!
It's probably not important, but I do have anxiety and depression.. I have breakdowns, but not as often as I used to.
Things I don’t like..The one thing I can think of is when someone assumes something about me. I can get rather defensive over the assumption and cry about it later, LOL. I’m also kinda a picky eater, but I’m willing to try new foods?
Things that attract me..I've never given much thought to it. I'd say that a few similar general interests, doesn't have to be a ton! I love learning new things, so if interests don't match fully, I'll be learning more about the person and what they like. ♡
Thank you so much in advance, and I'm sorry if it's kinda long qwq ♡
You know what boo? Just for you I'll do both Overwatch and Resident Evil!
For Overwatch I've decided on...
Ashe!!
For Ashe, loyalty is very important so you two fight perfectly in that category!
She can easily handle social situations for you and honestly she's happy too!
You being slow to anger balances her out since sometimes her anger can get a bit much (although she never yells at you)
She's a little appalled you don't listen to country music but it's not a game changer for her
She always shows you the best stargazing spots and she learned how to make an origami flower to give you
She's always on the lookout for any signs that your depression is hitting hard that day bevause if it is she'll have a quiet day in with you
She doesn't mind you being a picky eater in fact if you only ever ate one food she'd drive to the other side of the country to get it for you
She's down to watch scary movies anytime with you and she also is very intently listening when you talk to her about Greek mythology
If anyone mentions your mismatched clothes Ashe informs them that in fact you look amazing and they need to mind their own business
For Resident Evil 8? I've gotta say...
Donna Beneviento!
Donna is such a sweetheart
She doesn't mind your clothes, in fact she makes you a lot of clothes and she's delighted I'd you wear them
Her gardens provide a great view of the stars and sometimes Donna and you go for midnight walks under the stars.
She doesn't like social situations either so you two often stay in Donna's house
She loves listening to you talk and is super happy you don't get mad easily because she deals with enough anger when she's around Dimitrescu and Heisenberg
Despite how terrifying her power can be horror movies aren't her favorite so expect her to hide in your side during them
She'd love to learn origami and she'd be delighted if you taught her
She knows a bit of Greek mythology but is happy to learn more
She's super understanding about your depression and assures you she'll always do her best to help you
She's pretty open minded about new people so don't worry about her assuming things about you
#overwatch x reader#resident evil 8 x reader#re8 x reader#re8 donna x reader#donna beneviento x reader#ashe x reader
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i filled out this super cool button character profile by @extraordinarymage for sabrina! thank you for making this, it was a lot of fun to fill out <3 the bulk of it is under a cut and oh boy is it long !!!
Short, Quick Reference
Name: Sabrina Wiseman
Pronouns: She/her
Sexuality: Bisexual
Love Interest: Kent
Main personality trait: Confidence
Secondary personality trait: Morbidity
Relationship with Nick: Full of love, haunted by unaddressed guilt and frustration. But mostly full of love.
Nickname for Nick: Saint Nick (used sparingly)
Resentful or accepting?: Slightly resentful
Main strategy (interpersonal, insightful, innovative?): Insightful
Ethical or expedient?: Expedient
GENERAL
Name: Sabrina Larkspur Wiseman
Nickname(s): Sab, used by anyone; Sabby, only Nick and Sally; and, of course, Button for Nick.
Birthday: I think I made her an October Libra for the purpose of a template I did months ago, but I’m not sure! No concrete birthday yet, I’m always very slow to nail down details like this.
Age: 20
Pronouns: She/her
Sexuality: Bisexual
Hair color + style: Blonde. A little past shoulder length, sometimes wavy. Usually a middle part. For Aeon, tied back in a bun.
Eye color: Blue, entirely because of the section of Frank O’Hara’s “Meditations in an Emergency” that goes, “My eyes are vague blue, like the sky...”
Height: 5′5
Piercings: Multiple in each ear, but a couple have started to close.
Tattoos: None yet! Sab likes the idea of a tattoo but is worried about finding the perfect design, whether she’d end up hating it, that the pain might be greater than she expects and she’ll look like a baby in front of her tattoo artist. I’d like to think she eventually consults Sally and/or Glitch to come up with an idea that she falls in love with, but I haven’t come up with what that would be!
Clothing style: Mostly solid colors, not a lot of patterns. Nothing super bright, but a fairly varied mix of pastels, neutrals, dark colors, black. Partial to denim skirts and sweater tops. Ankle boots. Likes a good turtleneck. She’s bolder when it comes to formal wear, and especially loves suits. Big fan of silk and satin.
Since she has a pretty accurate face claim, I’ll link some gifsets I’ve rb’d for appearance ref if you are so inclined.
STATS
I’m always adjusting minor things and swapping scenes around, but these are from my most recent Sab run! Most scores hover somewhere around these values.
Personality:
Confidence: 53%
Humor: 5%
Morbidity: 22%
Resentful: 57% | Accepting: 43%
Strategy:
Interpersonal: 12%
Insightful: 50%
Innovative: 10%
Ethical: 43% | Expedient: 57%
KEY DECISIONS:
What is Nick’s nickname and why?: Saint Nick, used very rarely. It’s a joking reference to the time she thought Santa was an evil Ment out to ruin Christmas, and a point about Nick overdoing it with the cheer. “Saint Nick” is usually code for “I know you mean well, but please mind your own business.” Otherwise, she just calls him Nick.
What is their favorite type of cookie (and its name and why?): Salted caramel chocolate chip! No special name.
What was their initial reaction to Sally hugging them, as kids?: She just froze. That could just be me projecting adult Sabrina onto her childhood self; I don’t imagine that she was as uncomfortable around strangers or quite as cautious back then. But that’s what I’ll stick with.
How did they ace the ASE test?: The in-game option she takes is “My entire life has revolved around strategic avoidance,” but the one about being just plain smart also sounds like her. If Sab has the chance to thoroughly (over)prepare for something, she will do it. Her mind blindness also has her constantly (over)analyzing situations. So, hard work and relentless anxiety!
Did they manage to win their first assignment? How?: Yes, by having Sally block the door. I’ve headcanoned some slight differences in how it plays out, which I wrote about in-depth here. To summarize, Sab thinks of blocking the door as a desperate last resort, not a clever loophole, and she pushes back against Rosy’s praise because she wishes she could have done it the “real” way. Rosy goes from being impressed to being annoyed that she’s willfully missing the point.
What was the primary emotion Button felt during the Aeon bombing (love, gratitude, etc?): Guilt. She feels very guilty about how much Nick has given up for her in general, but I think that in the moment, it’s on a smaller scale. The fact that Nick was on the phone with her when it happened, coming to her rescue like always, becomes emblematic of their whole relationship for her, and she really fixates on that.
Who drove them home from the hospital from and why?: Glitch. Sab responds to her initial text with “Are you sure?”, and is relieved when Glitch takes that as “Yes, please.” She doesn’t relish the idea of being around someone more connected to her family or Nick at that point.
How do they feel about Nick riding around in their mind?: Worried, at first. Just because it’s so unknown and absolutely insane. After seeing Doctor Amari, she’s excited! Sab is thrilled to be a Pollard Five and intends to take full advantage of it. I am not looking forward to seeing how she reacts when that’s taken away from her.
Why did Button agree to do the undercover mission?: To prove she still deserves to be an MIV. Sabrina feels stupid and reckless for putting herself, Nick, and Aeon in this position, but she knows she’s smart, and she hasn’t worked this hard for nothing. She wants to prove what she could do with a normal Pollard Score and make herself too valuable to give up even when she’s back to Zero.
Told Glitch about your mind blindness?: Depends on the playthrough. I’m constantly going back and forth on whether Sab meets Glitch for coffee or wanders the city with Nick in her second chapter 5 slot (after trying to track down Kent). If she does meet Glitch, though, she absolutely tells her; with how touchy Sab is about privacy, she couldn’t stomach not warning Glitch that Nick could hear everything they said.
Figured out K’s secret?: Nope. She finds enough of the clues to be given the “I knew it!” option in-game, but she didn’t actually put it together. Sab is too angry and embarrassed by learning that Kent is an AMO to find any reason to interrogate it. “The random guy I met before school just happens to be a jerk” is a perfectly sound explanation to her.
Found Noh’s clues?: Not at the metro station. Sometimes she sees the Vengeance brooms in chapter 5 (again, depending on the playthrough), but that’s it.
ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIP:
Love Interest: Kent
Why them?: Sab feels an immediate kinship with Kent after learning about the NPO program. It’s kind of funny how quickly he moves from the least sympathetic position in her eyes (Ment who got past me and read my mind without my knowledge) to the most sympathetic (non-powered child of a prominent family aiming a league above where he “belongs”). A lot of new respect for his competence. Her fate is sealed when she realizes that his kindness at the hospital wasn’t him trying to make up for some wrongdoing, but just him being very sweet. (She had scoffed over “You needed help.” But now she’s like, “Oh. He meant that?! Fuck.”)
As they spend more time together, Sab realizes how weirdly similar they are in other ways, too. And she starts to feel safe/secure around him in a way that she’s extremely not used to. Growing up surrounded by Ments, Sab has a lot of issues about being too much, too difficult, needing to “be worthy” of love. So someone like Kent who is not a Ment, who has no “obligation” to care about her, and whose judgement she trusts implicitly? Being around him and being loved by him mean a lot, and I think will go a long way towards helping her reflect on her other relationships!
What are their first impressions of each other?: Okay, there are like 3 first impressions with Kent. First: he’s tall and handsome and secretly adorable, and they have similar career goals, so she’s drafting a five-month plan to woo him and get his number. Second: he’s a lying, self-obsessed loser who owes her many explanations. Third: oh no, the first impression was true! And he’s been continually, selflessly kind to her in spite of her overt hostility. Scratch the five-month plan, because the crush was only fun when it was entirely superficial; now she really, really likes him and that just sucks.
We know that Button makes a good impression on K by stopping for their dogs, but apart from that... I mean, the “we confused each other” from chapter 7 is very apt. Sab has lots of shifting personas, and Kent sees pretty much every one within 24 hours. The prevailing impression before everything gets cleared up is probably just that she cares a lot? About everything? Her stopping for the dogs, how seriously she takes the first assignment, the way she seems so deeply affected by something he said or did that morning. It’s a rare side of her to meet first because she usually pretends to be above everything.
What feature does your Button find most attractive in their RO (ex. appearance, personality, etc.)?: Probably his composure. And his... steadfastness? The way he seems unruffled by anything, his soothing presence. She really admires that about him and finds the calm contagious.
What do they do to spend time together?: Going on drives together! Kent driving while Sab plays songs she thinks he’ll like, talking or not talking. Cuddling on the couch while reading their own separate books. Museum dates. Walking the dogs together.
Do they argue? How do they handle arguments and disagreements? How do they make up?: I imagine that the first month or so of their relationship would be difficult, just because they’re both bad at expressing themselves and not used to relying on other people. Kent kind of negates a lot of Sab’s impulses to get defensive or hostile, so instead of arguments, I think there are more likely to be awkward periods where she’s just stewing in something without addressing it. Most of their fights would be, like, one of them becoming really distant for a concerning number of days until the other tries to awkwardly check in on them.
What does their future look like?: Uhh some random lore: I think eventually they do get married, despite neither of them caring that much about it. Sabrina would be excited to have something to plan, and she knows it would make the people around her happy. They have a long engagement; there’s never really an “official” proposal, just an acknowledgement that yeah, they’ll get married one day, and then eventually they get rings. The engagement is almost Sab’s favorite part, honestly. She likes planning and showing off her ring and calling Kent her fiancé, a lot of fanfare on her part for a wedding that ends up being very modest and chill.
OTHER RELATIONSHIPS (Feel free to go in depth!)
Relationship with Nick: When I first started developing Sab, I thought that with as difficult/prickly as she can be, her relationship with Nick would be worse than it is. Never bad, but certainly strained, with more jealousy/resentment on her side. However, she rejected this. She is resentful, but never towards Nick—she internalizes the negative parts of their relationship so they manifest as guilt instead. And that’s the problem, not resentment. Sab thinks he’s overprotective, but that doesn’t make her angry; it just makes her sad. She wishes things were different and he didn’t feel so responsible for her, but she also doesn’t know how she could manage without him taking on so many of her burdens. So, guilt! So much love, but always looming guilt.
Having Nick in her head has helped. It’s added a new kind of guilt (“I’m a horrible person for being so giddy that people can’t hear my thoughts even though that requires my brother to be in a coma”), but getting inside Nick’s head for once and really feeling his love for her changes things. Makes her feel way more secure, I guess? It’s easier to see her brother as human person, a friend who loves her, rather than a perfect selfless paragon who sacrificed everything to raise her, which is an important shift.
There are also Things happening with self-presentation in the fact that they’re both models, and flirts, and pretend to be shallow. And the ways that they’ve responded to vastly different expectations. And selflessness versus selfishness. But I have no idea how to talk about that yet.
Relationship with Father: Strained and distant. Sabrina doesn’t necessarily blame him for leaving, but she hates how he’s handled it. She’s incredibly frustrated that John insists on keeping them in this miserable limbo of uncomfortable visits, even though moving away was (to her) a tacit acknowledgement that she and her parents are better off without each other. He’s trying to force a relationship that Sab thinks is ultimately harmful for everyone involved. For Nick’s sake, she’s willing to grin and bear the visits, but it never works because John can obviously tell it’s an act. He pushes her, she gets defensive, and so on to infinity.
Relationship with Mother: Like with John, Sab doesn’t resent Hope for the incident itself, or for leaving afterward. It was terrifying, and the idea of being around Hope makes her panic—but she thinks of that as just another irrational anxiety symptom, and she’s trying to work through it. What she does resent Hope for is letting it get to that point at all. Sab is incredibly bitter that Hope will suffer silently to the point of almost killing her (during the incident) and potentially herself (with the BRS), while Sab has no choice but to be completely open. Especially because they’re so similar in that way—she’s almost jealous. “Oh, so your silence is allowed to almost kill me and it’s ‘nobody’s fault’ but I can’t pretend to enjoy a single lunch with Dad without him calling me out for lying?”
And even though she doesn’t hold the incident itself against her, Sab is very hung up on “Why are you never quiet? Why are you always there?” She knows, on some level, that this was not a Personal Judgement against her. But because Hope keeps so much quiet, this is the only honest expression of her mother’s feelings that she can remember! It would take a lot for Sab to believe that Hope was really, genuinely interested in reconnecting with her, rather than just pretending to love her "enough” this time because to do otherwise would reflect poorly on Hope as a mother.
Relationship with Sally: Besties <3 Sally is the only member of the Wiseman inner circle that Sab doesn’t have complicated feelings about. They both have hidden morbid streaks that they bring out in each other, and can laugh about. They both have competitive streaks that work well together because they’re always on the same team. And their wants/needs from the relationship complement each other well, I think. Sally has always felt valued because she’s useful and not because she’s loved, while Sab has always felt smothered by love/care without feeling like she genuinely adds value to other people’s lives. So it means a lot to both of them that they’re able to help each other practically, while also genuinely loving and supporting each other outside of that.
Relationship with Gray: Full of trust and genuine care, but predicated on distance. Sab loves him a lot for being so careful not to cross any boundaries, physical or emotional, with her. She’s grateful that he’s there for Nick in a way that she doesn’t feel she can be. But "I like Gray because he doesn’t push me and is good to Nick” means that any hand he extend makes her defensive, because she’ll either view him as an emissary of Nick or start to panic because their normal routine is being disrupted (she doesn’t tell him about Hope in ch 3, for example).
They get along very well in a friend-of-a-friend sort of way, and bond over being cautious counterparts to Nick. Also, Sab never had a crush on Gray, but she is not immune to tall superhero and thinks it’s fun to fake flirt with him. (You know Isabela’s “You have pretty eyes” routine from DA2? Sab does that to Gray when conversations steer towards things she’d rather not talk about.)
Relationship with Glitch: I’m really excited about these two! They click from the start, and Sabrina feels immediately comfortable around Glitch, which makes her feel distinctly uncomfortable whenever she catches herself. Externally, they have pretty different personalities, but they’re both perceptive and... socially manipulative? aware of their self-presentation?... in ways that they both pick up on right away. So it’s a lot of conversational maneuvering and trying to figure out what the other’s game is, while also genuinely enjoying each other’s company.
Relationship with Kent/Kenna: I could go truly insane here. See the romance section above instead.
Relationship with Kim: Sab wants him to like her sooooo bad. He’s one of the only people to ever really get through to her, re: my headcanon conversation after the first assignment. Authority figures tend to treat her as special, whether that’s negatively because of her mind blindness or positively because she’s such an overachiever. She had no idea how to respond to that not being the case (and didn’t handle it well at first), but chapter 6 solidifies her respect for him.
It also turns Rosy’s opinion of Sab around; he was impressed by her in class but left his office thinking she was self-absorbed and naive. But the bombing is a reality check, and her response is very measured and practical in a way that surprises him.
Relationship with Lev: She doesn’t mind the comparisons to Nick or the “maybe one day they’ll fix you” comments as much as you might think. They aren’t her favorite, but she prefers that sort of thing to the inspirational platitudes belied by coddling that she got from her family growing up. Sab has fond memories of Lev and is grateful that he’s always been kind to her, but doesn’t have any particular feelings apart from that.
Relationship with Clarence: Holds a grudge against him for causing a scene, making her late, and generally being a jerk. But she can’t fault him for being right, after what happened! Mostly she just wants to avoid him, but she’ll be thrilled to lord her success over him if/when she proves herself.
Relationship with Dean Branham: Like Rosy, another authority figure that Sab desperately wants to impress. But without the personal investment she has in Rosy’s validation, more “Oh, this person is in charge, so I should make her like me!” Despite Nick’s and Rosy’s reservations, Sabrina doesn’t really have a problem with being “strongarmed” or manipulated into cooperating; for now, she figures Branham was just doing her job and respects her tactics.
Relationship/attitude towards Ments in general: Mostly just uncomfortable and wary around them. Sab doesn’t want her mind read, and she figures that no Ment wants to be forced to read it either. So she has a pretty strict “no Ments” rule for close personal relationships (excluding Nick, Sally, and Gray, of course. But only Nick really counts because he’s the only one who can hear her thoughts whenever she’s nearby). Not out of hatred or resentment, just because she knows it will be easier for everyone in the long run.
Do they have any other important relationships, past or present? (Relatives, friends, etc.?): Not many, but yes! Sab dated around a lot in the 2 years before Aeon (more like year and a half, because she completely shut it down once she was more focused on preparing for the MIV program), but there are 2 relationships that were formative/important for her. A high school sweetheart, and someone Sab met through modeling. She doesn’t keep up with her high school ex, but the model is her best friend outside of Sally and Nick, and they still keep in touch! I’m still developing them/the relationships, and I’ll probably post more about them someday. They’re fun!
PERSONAL BIO
Describe their personality: Confusing and contradictory. She has two main modes that confuse people who meet both (e.g., Kent). She’s either cold, stuck-up, and sometimes hostile, OR she’s charming, frivolous, and sometimes flirty. Mode 1 is tense but stoic and inexpressive; mode 2 is seemingly relaxed but very posed and insincere. Mode 1 is for when she feels uncertain or has no agenda apart from “get to point B”; mode 2 is for when she’s more comfortable or trying to manipulate someone. Her actual personality is a bit closer to the second, but she doesn’t pretend not take things seriously or hide when she’s annoyed.
Strengths: Analytical, methodical, detail-oriented. Very driven and hardworking. May not always act like it, but does have social skills/charisma; a great liar, if you can’t read her mind. Unfailingly loyal and loving to her favorite people, so so so warm and affectionate and supportive if she really loves you. Very perceptive.
Weaknesses: Way too proud. Can be petty and vindictive. Self-absorbed (she doesn’t mean anything by it, but it’s hard for her to see past herself sometimes). Stubborn, hates being wrong. And... emotional isn’t the word, but strong negative emotions can really cloud her judgement. It ties into her being proud, petty, and stubborn; if she’s really upset about something, she can cling to that emotion instead of re-evaluating it or moving forward.
Phobias: From this ask about the phobias that are planned to show up in-game, there are a few that I could see fitting Sab, but I want to wait to see how they’re implemented before I fully commit. Which is very metagame-y, I know (and I am very metagame-y about IF), but “fear of X” is so broad that it really does depend on when/how it manifests in the text.
That being said, agoraphobia is almost a lock; crowds do make Sab very anxious if she can’t keep track of everyone within a certain distance, and if she can’t leave when she starts feeling antsy. Claustrophobia is a maybe. The choice that triggers it (in chapter 4, about hating MRI machines) suits Sab, but I’m not sure if she hates MRI machines because she hates tight spaces, or if it’s more related to her general anxiety about hospitals, medical tests, etc. Which she definitely has!
What activities/club did they do in school?: She avoided anything group-oriented as far as possible. She took piano (maybe violin?) lessons and did recitals, but wasn’t in orchestra. The one exception was maybe National Honor Society or some equivalent, which she would have joined for her resume’s sake. And I think she would have tutored!
Where do they escape to when they need space?: A little used library corner, where she can people watch without being seen/heard.
How do they feel about/cope with their mind blindness?: Sab hates it but tries not to dwell on it. She knows that it’s no one’s fault, and she mainly just tries to... minimize it? Drown out her thoughts, limit her contact with Ments. And, least healthily, very rigidly managing herself. Because there’s so much of her that exists outside of herself, without her control, she tries to either filter or completely suppress everything else. Part of why she got into modeling, she can perform and be perfect and have total control over the final product of her body in the photographs for whatever campaign. Some Day This Will Be Better. But definitely not where she is in current canon.
How has your Button changed since the Incident with Hope?: Developed many new anxieties and disorders and syndromes :) She also became way more self-conscious, as in literally conscious of and way more tightly monitoring herself, what she’s thinking, what she’s expressing, how she’s sitting, etc. Less emotive face, more rigid posture.
If they weren’t an Aeon student, what would they be doing?: Sab would have beaten herself up forever if she “proved everyone right” by avoiding Unity/Ments entirely, so she’d want to stay in the family business somehow. She probably would have ended up doing scientific research on mental agility. Maybe even working for Mirrortech or some other biotech company, which I imagine would have been an interesting conversation to have with the family.
RANDOM FACTS:
Zodiac sign: Like I said, I assigned her Libra months ago for the sake of a template. But I don’t know enough about astrology to commit. Libra or Leo, probably.
Hobbies: Music, reading poetry, “cooking” (i.e., sitting on the counter and not helping while Nick makes dinner)
Likes: Watching other people (Nick) play video games, dressing up, taking long showers/baths, dark chocolate with caramel, back hugs
Dislikes: Being patronized, hot weather, going to the doctor, driving, doing anything she is not good at
Type of bedsheets: Bamboo.
Drink of choice: Cucumber mint lemonade! For hot drinks, some kind of caramel coffee. For alcohol, she refuses to get drunk because she’s terrified of having even less control of her mental broadcast, but at home/around people she trusts she’ll have a glass or two of wine. Doesn’t know enough to be picky, but doesn’t like it too sweet.
Favorite food: Probably some pasta dish Nick makes with asparagus and tomatoes and a lot of garlic.
Favorite color: Like a light turquoise!
Favorite music: Music to her was another mind-shielding tactic before anything else, so she tends to like upbeat-ish electronic/pop stuff. Catchy and repetitive, and/or with lots of personality to drown out her own thoughts. On the other end of the spectrum, she does have a soft spot for crackly, lo-fi, old or old-sounding slow songs—something about fuzzy recordings simulating a weak telepathic signal.
Favorite season: Hmm, spring and autumn are both good. She likes either side of winter.
Anything else you’d like to share: My heart and a long, fulfilling marriage, with anyone who reads all this 💍
#wow this is so long. insanity luv lit ral insanity#this was super helpful for articulating certain things about sab's character so it's already done its job#pls do not feel pressured to read Thousands of words about sabrina my beloved. but if you read all or even some of this <333 a kiss for you#why am i embarrassed to overshare about my own ocs on my own blog. i live here#oc: sabrina wiseman#also this was very much a stream of consciousness deal but i tried to go back and make it comprehensible. good luck all ye who enter here
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❝ D E AT H S T R O K E ❞ … LOADING FILE …
x
S L A D E J O S E P H W I L S O N ;
Full Name: Slade Joseph Wilson
Alias: Deathstroke
Age: 54
Gender: Male
Birth date: ████████
Birth Place: ████████ ████████
Current Residence: Manhattan, New York City
S L A D E J O S E P H W I L S O N ;
Hair: White
Eyes: Dark Brown
Disabilities: Blindness in one eye, Right
Build: Muscular, Super Soldier Physique
Ethnicity: Caucasian
Nationality: American
Alignment: Neutral, actions can be conclusive to a Villain
Identity: Secret/Not Secret, depends on the individual
S L A D E J O S E P H W I L S O N ;
Education: ██ ████ ███████ ██████ ██ █████████
Family: ██████ ██████, mother, deceased Charles Wilson, father, deceased (Killed by Slade) Wade Defarge, half-brother, deceased Adeline Kane, ex-wife, deceased ███████ ██████, mother of rose, alive Grant Wilson, son, deceased Rose Wilson, daughter, alive Joseph Wilson, son, alive
Marital Status: Divorced
Employment (Former): ██████ ██ █████████, Mercenary, Bounty Hunter, Gun for Hire, US Army
Employment (Current): Bounty Hunter, Mercenary for Hire
Affiliation(s): ██████ ██ █████████, US Army, ███████ █████
Preferred Weapons: Promethium Broad Sword, various guns, knives, and grenades
Equipment: Varies. Sometimes, the Ikon Suit which absorbs kinetic energy. Or Armored Suit with chain metal armor underneath, belts and straps packed with ammunition, knives, grenades, and various other weaponry. Broad sword made of promethium, attached to back. Helmet or mask hides half of his face, because of blindness in right eye. (Picture attached) and (Picture attached)
Abilities: -Expert Combatant in various forms of combat (martial arts, unarmed combat, etc) -Master marksman in various firearms -Master in weaponry (particularly in swordsmanship and firearms) -Tactical Analysis -Acrobatics -Stealth
Powers: -Super Soldier Physiology (enhanced senses particularly of hearing and smell, enhanced agility, enhanced durability, enhanced reflexes, enhanced speed, enhanced stamina, enhanced strength) -Enhanced Intellect (subject uses 90% of his brain) -Accelerated healing
P A S T
Slade Wilson was born on ████████ in ████████ ████████ to Mr. and Mrs. Wilson. His mother was “weak”, he said, and his father abandoned him as a child. Charles Wilson, a former CIA agent, was believed to be on a mission when he’d gone missing, but no record of the mission was ever recorded, nor found. Charles was later found, defected to the ██████ ██ █████████. He had become something called Odysseus. Slade later found him and killed him. He still believes Charles left because he chose to, and Slade doesn’t seem to remember his half-brother.
Slade has shown in his intellect and personality, that he is an individual capable of survival. His father’s abandonment and unstable home may be why, but it’s not conclusive. Slade may have always been independent. However it may be, Slade Wilson was determined to enlist in the U.S. Army. Later, it was found Slade had lied about his age on his papers, and ran away from home. Instead of being discharged, he was told to stay. His talents and skills in guerrilla warfare were far superior than any other soldier they’d ever seen. He was tested over and over and promoted over and over by his superiors.
His ex-wife, Adeline Kane, was an Army Squadron Leader and instructor, who eventually trained Slade and took him under her wing. He impressed her, demonstrating his combat and skills, while high marks by Kane were left in this profile. In surveillance, you can see his fighting style sometimes resembles Kane’s style. What we did not anticipate was how dangerous their relationship would be. Slade would be promoted to Lieutenant Colonel, and sometime later Slade married Kane. They would divorce, we don’t know why.
His first son, Grant Wilson, would become the first recorded Ravager. We’re not sure what happened, other than Slade finished his contract, after Grant was killed. The death of his son clearly affected him, to the point that he won’t talk about it. His second son, Joseph Wilson, also appears to be a heavy subject, but he is be more willing to talk about Joseph. “Joey” he said, in a psychological evaluation. Joseph Wilson is mute. Maybe Slade had something to do with Joseph’s disability….we don’t know. But Slade has shown signs of guilt, for both his sons. Grant and Joseph Wilson are children from his first marriage to Adeline Kane.
His daughter, Rose Wilson, was born out of wedlock. Her mother, ███████ █████, Slade appeared to have relations with, while on assignment. He won’t say he abandoned Rose, most likely due to the comparison to his father. Because she was raised without her father, it may appear that way. Rose would go on to take up the mantle as Ravager. We don’t know how many there are. From surveillance, she is the one he communicates with, the most, of his family. They don’t always get along, or not at all, understandably. Slade appears to have a disconnect with his children. Just as he is disconnected with everyone else.
Slade was a good soldier. Excellent soldier. The perfect soldier. His superiors asked him to volunteer for a secret medical experiment that was said to be a defense against the enemy’s Truth Serum. He agreed. It was really our attempt to make metahuman super-soldiers. He was lied to - but he was the perfect candidate. Something else we hadn’t anticipated: a violent response to the serum. It broke his mind and body, then built him back up. Stronger than before. But that would happen later. The immediate results were Slade’s more aggressive, violent, and enraged behavior. This aggression would remain with him, long after the experiment ended. Slade would go on to continue this as Deathstroke…
We deemed the experiment a failure, and Slade was limited to a desk job. We continued to monitor him, but what was the point? We thought. Our experiment had failed, until it hadn’t. Enhanced, to a human’s peak, we did it. We did it. Accelerated healing healed what else was left, and our perfect soldier was made even better. Slade’s enhanced mind allowed him to use 90% of his brain, and has shown, together in combat and completing his “contracts”. We made a weapon…that even we couldn’t handle. His mind remained broken. Even though we made him smarter, stronger, his mental stability, emotions, crumbled. We wouldn’t call it crazy, we’d call it violent. All Slade has now is aggression, a violent streak, and blood lust. He still has some sort of sense of humor, but we would highly advise citizens to avoid all contact with this man. He is unstable. We’re not sure if humor or violence will unleash out of him, next.
We’re not sure what happened. We were told Slade was discharged, disobeying orders, trying to save another soldier. Wintergreen, his friend. Slade disappeared, becoming what we only know now as Deathstroke.
P R E S E N T
We now have somewhat of a picture of what Slade has been up to. He’s made several enemies of heroes and villains, in Gotham alone. Enemies of the Justice League, ██████ ██ █████████, and the Titans alike, though he seems to have a personal history with the latter. He is a formidable foe against the Batman, and vice versa. The mobs are afraid of him, but almost incessantly ask for his business. The citizens are oblivious, only knowing him simply as Slade Wilson. Slade has built a system of “contracts” as Deathstroke, research has shown, offering his “services” for monetary value. He is a very weathly man. His rates must be high.
Physically, he’s gotten better. Mentally, he’s gotten worse.
CLASSIFIED: Although this information is classified and has been redacted throughout this file, for classified reasons, if you can read this, then you have been granted access to this information. If you need to know everything about Slade Wilson, then you have to know about one of the most dangerous groups in the world, the League of Assassins. Created and headed by Ra’s Al Ghul, the League of Assassins are an army of assassins, mercenaries, some of the world’s greatest martial artists, who’s sole purpose is to eliminate evil in the world. They are not superheroes. They’ve had questionable tactics as to how they’ve tried to achieve their goals, and questionable team members too. We’re not sure if Ra’s still heads the organization, we’re not sure if they even still exists. But Slade was once a member. We don’t know why he would join the group, whether power or boredom, it’s important to note because our weapon made it through, he survived the League. This information also makes him a much more violent asset, be careful if your group tries to bring him in.
CLASSIFIED: Slade rejoined the League of Assassins once more, but information told us it was forced. An ultimatum of some sort, we don’t know. Only Slade knows. After one year, he left. He’s an independent mercenary again.
After the Superhuman Registration Act, Slade hadn’t changed his routine. The Superhero Civil War was destructive, we lost contact with Wilson. The mutants fought back, headed by Magneto, still no contact with Wilson. He’s smart, he had to have avoided confrontation with either groups, mutant and hero alike. There was no way he could’ve - I digress. When a second accord ratification occurred and Genosha was born, we found Slade. Back to his ordinary life, if that’s what you would call it. The Accords have not only affected the heroes, it’s affected Slade, to some degree. He’s added an old occupation to himself, Bounty Hunter. This explains why we haven’t seen him don the mask of Deathstroke in some time. Government and hero oversight must make him cautious, maybe. It certainly slows down business, I’m sure, in Slade’s eyes. Our weapon has to survive. If he can’t? That’s when we step in.
N O T E S (OOC)
Hello! I’m Mipsy (she/her)! A gamer girl, Marvel and DC fan, Netflix binge fanatic, anime fan, movie fan especially horror movies, and lover of all things creative (music, art, writing, and rping)!
Slade is a mix of various comics and my own headcanons. I pull from a little bit of everything, even a little bit from Teen Titans (2003) from Cartoon Network. So don’t ask me which comics I use, heh. There’s a lot of comics, am I right? I took some liberties with Slade. Call them headcanons. Headcanons I’ve established from playing Slade for so long!
Mun ≠ Muse. Slade can be vulgar and rude, but that’s an understatement. He can be sociable, he can carry a conversation with others, but that doesn’t necessarily mean he likes you. Slade very much believes himself to be a good man, and sees Deathstroke as a job. Many of his enemies see him as a monster, a villain, but that’s because many don’t separate Deathstroke from Slade. Which is completely understandable! Slade’s done some pretty bad things, as Deathstroke and not. His character is a complicated one, not a cookie cutter straight character. His true alignment is neutral, but he can play the “hero” or the “villain” at anytime. Depends on who hired him for the job, which makes him an exciting character to rp! He has his own strict moral code that he follows, so he can’t be bothered with squeaky clean heroes or small time villains. But Slade can be reasoned with. He can carry a conversation when he wants to. Anyway, all that to say, Slade rarely likes anyone so please don’t hold that against the mun!
Slade is a simple man. The type of man who enjoys moments of peace in his life. He’s wealthy, but doesn’t flaunt his wealth like other billionaires. When he isn’t working, Slade really isn’t that bad at all. Just an old man who wants to drink his coffee and read his newspaper, thank you. He’s also quite humorous and a bit of a ladies man! Call it charming or not, he’s attractive enough, despite his age, for women to lay in his bed constantly.
He’s got a lot going on in his head. Guilt and being unstable are his biggest problems. As you’ve read, the super soldier serum really screwed him up. His body and mind were broken, and in effect a new kind of aggression was born within him. Makes him a bit of a monster, but it’s a monster Slade has decided to live with.
As you can already tell, I write alot! One reason I decided to join is I saw a few of you who write lots and I thought ‘I won’t be judged! Yay!’. But don’t fret! I can write paras and multi-paras, I’m just no good at one liners. No need to match length with me! Just...don’t be surprised if I write a lot back.
If you’d like to plot, DM me on discord! I’m so excited to be here! Can’t wait to rp with everyone!
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ZELDER THAT IS A LOT OF SIBLINGS !!!
Zelder : YES!! And I'm going to tell you about each and every one of them!
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Zelder: First up is Noel ! She's 12 and the youngest in the family. Mom says she's going through a bit of a "phase" at the moment but- I guess it's a healthy way of expressing herself ? But anyway, she's great at singing and won quite a few talent shows despite being super shy and, as most of my siblings are, she's great on the farm! She mostly helps with the planting when she's not busy with homework. Oh and I may or may not have cried when she was born. In my defense she was the cutest baby ever. (still kinda is)
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Zelder : Next is Philippe. He's 13 and sadly going through this horrible phase of teenage hood where everything is terrible, awkward and. Very sweaty. Hang in there buddy. I heard he spends a lot more time in his room playing video games now but he does have some sort of connection with cows- not in a bad way obviously, the cows really love him is all ! Dad keeps sending me pictures of him stuck in a field because of a cow napping on him. Dad thinks it's absolutely hilarious
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Zelder: Oh Bertie!!! I love her- she's 15 and insanely talented! We spent a lot of time watching cartoons together and she kept drawing the characters so now she is an amazing artist! She wants to be an animator so my parents are trying to save up money to send her to a good art school once she's done with high school. She's also very funny and nice and not as shy as you'd expect her to be, I love spending time with her whenever I can!
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Zelder : Woop woop! Give it up for the twins! (I'm sorry I don't know what I tried to do here oh gosh) Caroline and Alexis ! Both are 17 but Caroline was born 20 minutes earlier and won't let him live it down. These two are like cats and dogs : Caroline has always been this very extroverted, bright and childish girl while Alexis is much more introverted, calm and- no offense Alex if you're reading this but- terrible at any sort of social interaction. He's very different from the rest of the family but I do like that about him ! Oh and the twins are both Very very strong, I'm sure they could lift a truck if they wanted to!
Next in the family is me so- hi ! Yall already know me so let's move on to...
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Zelder : woah I'm surprised I never talked to yall about him before! Okay- no joke but his name is Micheal and he's 20. Yes we do make a lot of jokes about him and Micheals having the same name and my parents would go around at church telling people about their two sons named Micheal or that they should make a group called "The Micheals" since they're both musicians- it was actually very cute~ Anyhow! He's a Mormon like the rest of the family but he decided to not go on his mission to focus on his music career. He's a singer and guitarist! He's got a few songs out which I listen to a lot and my parents try to drag Philippe and Noel to every single one of his concerts. I hope I'll be able to see him play soon!
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Zelder: Oooh Jacqueline~ She's 21 and almost done with her mission in Switzerland! We haven't gotten to talk to her a lot since her mission started but let's just say she's doing way better at it than I am (her district is still standing and now that I'm thinking about it, it's not a very high standard...).
Growing up with her she was always really relaxed and chill, she's great at handling other people's tantrums and giving vague yet good advice. She has the same "older sibling vibes" as Davis so I really appreciate having this little piece of home around. Also she has a huge collection of crystals back home and a Kidz Bop mixtape she made for us when we were kids! I miss her a lot ❤️
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Zelder : This is Charlotte! She's 26 and recently got married to a man she met on her mission in France. They're both in America right now but they're saving up money to go live in Paris. It's very slow since she's a French teacher in a little high school in Texas but she's very hard working and determined to make her dreams come true so I'm sure she can do it ! What else... Oh right. We used to get into a lot of arguments about everything when we were younger but I still cried when she left to go on her mission... And at her wedding... But I can finally say now that I love her a lot and I know deep down I cared for her back then... She will definitely be using this to blackmail me later. Oh gosh...
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Zelder: And finally we have Joseph (we all call him Joe), the oldest at 29 years old ! We are honestly all so proud of him since he dealt with a lot of of problems with his mental health and yknow it was... A lot. But now look at him ! He used to love baking pies with mom and now he has a lovely pie shop in the city, he has an amazing wife and the cutest daughter, his recovery is going so well and he's a wonderful person ! He also spent a lot of time elder Micheals (not my brother) at the worst of his depression, which helped a lot since I didn't always know how to help him and he was there for me too when I wasn't doing too well either. The three of us are really close ! It's amazing to see him now as an adult, he's so wise and so much happier. Things really do get better and I couldn't be more proud of my big brother.
#WHEW THAT TOOK A LONG TIME GODDD#Ask#Elder zelder#Bom#Tbom#tbom musical#bommusical#I would fucking die for Joe#❤️❤️❤️💓💓❤️❤️💓
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her blooming flower | one
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prologue / one / two
→summary: you’ve known him since you were just a young girl during his trainee days. He watched you grow into a woman, but he’s always hated you from day one for whatever reason it may be. To you, he thought of you as a nobody. But what you weren’t aware of was a secret that he never wanted you to know.
→pairing: enemy!jungkook x dancer!reader
→word count: 7.6k
→genre: angst, fluff, maybe smut??, some humor
→warning: implied smut
→a/n: hi guys, it’s finally here! I’m so sorry it’s been almost two months! It’s been super hectic from having family over the break and having no time to write. And it became even more hectic as my schedule became packed when coming back to second semester of school. I had theatre rehearsals every day after school until 6pm to prepare for our musical back in January with so much homework and chores to do, and then I was gone with my dance team at Disney World for 4 days which also didn’t give me any time to write, and missing three school days. I had to make up a bunch of work to bring up failing grades which had me super stressed out. Now that it’s February, it’s competition season and this past Saturday was the second contest. I’ve just been constantly tired physically, mentally, and emotionally where I just lost so much motivation to write. But I definitely took time in between my spare time to try the best I could. So thankfully, it is now here and the good news, I have a two week break before last contest. I will say this series will have a bit of slow updates. It just all depends on how packed my schedule is. But most of all, I would like to thank you all for being super patient with me, I really appreciate it sweeties! I would also like to thank @9uk and @stxrrysuga for being wonderful helpers into keeping me motivated and writing just a few small details that’ll help me get going.
Another side note, I’d like to credit and thank @dearmyjimin for granting me permission to use a concept she made on her blog which I was desperate and in such need for this series since I felt like it could absolutely be perfect for the storyline. Once again thank you!! The concept is based on 3J! That is all I have to say as you all should read and find out what it is.
So here it is finally! Chapter one! Enjoy!
It was dawn when you had woken up, your eyes drowsy from the lack of sleep you had been getting the last few days. The constant late nights because of work had kept you up at ungodly hours of the night. You tried to get fewer hours but you knew you needed the money so you stuck with the long hours and your days dragged on, each one seemed longer than the next. You sat up and sighed softly as you climbed out of bed while grabbing your glasses and putting them on. Your mind clouded with thoughts of what was going to take place later today, so you walked over to your desk and took a glimpse of your planner that you created almost a year ago.
Today, at 8am, you have breakfast with your best friend Jess, a contemporary lesson at noon, then lunch at 1pm, and then game night at Taehyung’s, including a no work shift today.
Okay, not so much to do today. Thank God. You grabbed your phone and put some music on shuffle with your mini speaker, then made your way over to the bathroom. You did your daytime skincare routine after doing your business on the toilet. While washing your face, you wondered how could you get this far in life. No, you’re not famous. You thought it would be kind of a scary career. But you still wanted to dance and create amazing pieces for artists for the wish of sharing your work to the world. Plus, you have choreographed for some artists before.
You’re not always booked for appointments with idols, but your schedule does get tight due to the fact that you work. You basically have a job at this cafe in Seoul, and you’re still working at your mom’s studio, hosting classes every Monday, Tuesday, and Thursday night. You usually teach contemporary and ballet but you have taught some hip hop classes too, due to the fact that you’ve choreographed for some idols as an example. It’s been requested by many residents who take your classes for you to teach more hip hop. And you might as well take that chance to balance all the styles out.
Looking at your face in the mirror after washing your face, you also thought about how life was for you when you moved to Korea. You missed your friends from back home, but you also love it here too. And you made some decent close friends here too, especially Jess being the closest friend you see literally every day. And of course, you can’t forget the Bangtan boys. You grew close with the boys over the years, they basically became your family. You always had fun with them, whether it was game nights or through video chat. And you have a very special bond with each of the boys, nothing was ever different from how you all acted with each other.
They adore you a lot, and you were like their very own little sister that they look out for. They all found you sweet and sincere, prestigious, intelligent, and super adorable. Well, except Jungkook. He, being the only one who disagrees, finds you as the exact opposite. He’s got one hell of a grudge against you. All because of a damn smoothie you accidentally spilled on him a couple years ago. You find it super confusing and a little dumb that he treats you like shit over that incident. Although, it saddens you too as you took the blame upon yourself, coming up with the many excuses in your head. Maybe he was having a really bad day and you just so happened to ruin it even more. If you were paying a little more attention, you would have caught yourself and not spilled your smoothie on him. Then maybe, just maybe, you could have had a better introduction with each other and become friends.
Jungkook loves to criticize and pick on you. Everyday. That’s no surprise to you. But you don’t usually conduct to anything he does to you, and it made him full of annoyance from how you wouldn’t try defending yourself (more so, argue). But there’s a reason why you don’t. If you ever stood up against Jungkook, you’re sure that he will probably laugh his ass off at your pathetic self. You don’t think you could ever try to face him with defense. It doesn’t work that way for you. Sure, it hurts you. But you find it useless to do so. And being the sweet person you are, you’re not gonna want to come out as some bitch.
No matter how much you respect him and treat him nicely, your presence is what makes him irritated. The man has got a grudge against you.
Sliding out of your pajamas, you threw on a random outfit and then you sat down at your vanity set and decided how you were going to look upon your face and hair. After 30 minutes, you were already putting on a pair of shoes at your front door. You grabbed your bag and car keys, and you were out the door of your apartment. Shortly then, you were on the road.
“Okay, so here are all my ideas for the boys’ next comeback. I’ve been working on this for a couple of days now and I thought I’d share them with you!” Your friend Jess said, dropping a plain journal in front of you next to your plate full of breakfast. You picked up the journal once you set your vanilla latte down and opened the journal, flipping through the ridiculous full pages of notes and ideas followed up for BTS’ comeback.
You gave her a glance, “You are crazy. Are you seriously helping them find new concept ideas? I thought they already figured that out.”
She shrugged, “Not exactly. Besides, they asked for my help so I could have better ideas on what music to produce with Yoongi and Namjoon.”
“A sexy comeback darker than the Love Yourself: Tear and Wings era?” You read aloud, “Sounds kinda…”
“Kinda good right? I think it’s time they now get into that, and besides, they’re all adults now that Jungkook became one.” She mentioned.
“You do know he’s been an adult for a few years now.”
Jess glared at you, “And him being an expert shirt lifter was only the beginning of his little bad boy era.”
The thought of Jungkook and his image only made you feel weird. He grew up drastically and puberty hit him harder than a truck. Instead, it was more like god and the devil worked together to mix cute and hot in their mixing bowl but decided to go with he’s gonna make every person gush in adoration and suddenly they get down on their knees and are thirsty hoes. But, there’s no denying that he really had you gawking at him. After all, you do like the man.
You nodded, “Wow, how logical.” Your sarcasm erupted as you took a sip of your latte. She hummed, “You know it’s true. Anyways, what’s going on for you today? Are you coming to game night?”
“Yeah, I am. I have a contemporary class to teach at noon, then lunch, and then I have a whole day to myself until game night. I think I might do some shopping, maybe go to the book store and read a few novels since my package arrived there. If I have time, I might just work on my poetries.” Yes, you write since you found your love for novels. Thanks to your dad’s career. He’s the best selling author in the country and back in yours.
“Speaking of dance,” Jess started, “Did you hear about 3J Studio?’
Yes, 3J as in J-Hope, Jimin, and Jungkook, the BTS dance line. They built a dance studio for those who want to have exclusive dance lessons with the boys. Millions of people have signed up for classes just so they can stand a chance to be coached by the boys. You were yet excited and definitely going to their first class on Saturday.
You nodded, “I did. Jimin and Hoseok told me about it. I’m really excited about this Saturday.” You smiled. “Me too!” Jess gushed, “Are you planning on attending?” She asked. “Of course! For sure I’m taking Jimin and Hoseok’s class.”
“Oh, but not Jungkook’s?” She raised an eyebrow. You sighed, “I mean, I’m not sure if I want to. I know he’s a great dancer and I’m certain he’s going to be an amazing coach but do you really think I want to feel the awkward tension where his blood literally boils around me? I’m not sure if I even want people to be speculating his hate for me. That’ll just put him at risk.” You fiddled with the thin straw in your latte, stirring it.
“But it’s not like he would ever talk to you in front of his students, would he? He’s an asshole, don’t get me wrong. Yet, I’m pretty sure he’s not an ass to treat you like crap.” Jess stated, “There’s no way he would do that to you in front of many people.”
“I guess you’re right.” You shrugged. The guy always puts you down and even humiliates you, he probably wouldn’t do that in public otherwise it would defame his image. The people wouldn’t even know who you are anyways. You’re only specified as, BTS’ friend, BTS’ music producer, Jess’ friend, Min Yoongi’s wife’s friend. It’s pretty much anything with you labeled as a friend of the band.
“He’s such a dumbass.” Jess shook her head. You looked up at her, “Hey, don’t say that about him. You know that’s not nice.”
She rolled her eyes and glared at you, “Really? Y/N, You’re defending him when all he ever does is bitch at you? He’s one hell of a brat who’s still stuck up on that smoothie mess! He makes me want to shove my foot in his face.”
“But you know he doesn’t have to like me right? Come on, Jess. Besides, the accident was my fault anyway.” You said softly as your eyes wandered somewhere else. “You really like him, don’t you?”
Your head snapped back at her, “Just because I like him doesn’t mean that has to do with what happened in the past.”
“Oh, so defending him and constantly worrying about his health along with your care and support in every accomplishment he achieves doesn’t mean anything to the way you feel about him?” Jess caught you there. “It’s not that I… I don’t know, Jessica.” You sighed, holding your cup firmly with both hands, “I respect him whether he doesn’t like me or not. My feelings don’t matter. He would never feel anything romantic for me. Besides, he has a girlfriend who’s definitely prettier and has a more slammin’ body than me.” You awkwardly locked a piece of your hair behind your ear.
“And this is where I call you stupid.” Jess looked at you, “That girl could never compare. She’s only got a pretty face but not a nice personality. Plus, you’re freaking gorgeous. More than she is. I don’t think you have any idea on that she’s only dating Jungkook for the attention and the fame.” She ate a bite of her egg sandwich, speaking in a mouthful, “The girl is a hooker but Jungkook being his gullible dumbass self believes she loves him for him.
You sighed, “Of course.” He loves her.
“And 5, 6, 7, TILT. Excellent!” You complimented, watching through the mirror as everyone in the studio did a tilt from the floor and rolled into fetus position. “So that whole 8-piece, just remember that it’s very very subtle, not too much energy until after the tilt, which you want to push your legs up and extend them like a whip but as light as a feather. Have grace with the tilt. 5, 6, 7, UP!” You demonstrated by being an example and showing your students the technique.
“She’s good isn’t she?” Jimin said with his arms crossed as he observed your teaching skills and your charismatic moves. “I’m really surprised she declined the trainee offers from the entertainment industries.” Hoseok nodded in agreement. A chuckled then came along, “I’m not.” Jungkook smirked.
“Dude, you’ve been going against every word we say about her.” Hoseok crossed his arms to face Jungkook. “Since day one.” He specifically added. Jungkook narrows his eyes as if he couldn’t comprehend what Hoseok was trying to get at.
But only the blind wouldn’t be able to tell that Jungkook bears a deep, stubborn grudge on you. And his attitude towards you contrasted too much from his members for them to not notice his behavior. It was an issue constantly swept under the carpet to not escalate things given Jungkook’s temper, but the matter has finally rose from dust. “Yeah that’s right, did she do something to offend you or something?” Jimin looks at Jungkook worriedly. The both of them kept going on about the issue of you, pressing Jungkook to the end of wits.
“Yo, if you have seen...another side of her she’s not showing to us,” The three of them slowly spin to watch you conduct the dance class. The smile on your face when you teach, and the way you go about asking every student about their struggles and issues—make Hoseok doubted the words that came out of his mouth. You looked genuinely passionate in this company, and it couldn’t be that you put up an act in front of evil intentions for so long. As long as however many years. Jungkook remains his gaze on you for a while, before his hands are coming up to rip off his hair from his scalp in frustration as he groans. “I-It’s not like that..! It’s just.. just the sight of her irks me!” He knew he sounded like a brat hating on someone as innocent as you for no reason at all. But before he could save himself from further embarrassment, you are strolling towards his triangle of friends with an anticipated look cast on your features.
“What are you guys talking about?” Your voice interrupts his rant. The three men stare at you in expressions you can’t make out—you couldn’t tell what they were thinking. Then the both Hoseok and Jimin shot Jungkook looks.
“Uh…” Jimin darts his gaze back and forth his two friends, before pulling you by the arm away from them. “Come on, let’s get a drink.”
And with that, you and Jimin walked out into the hallway to the studio kitchen where there were a few staff eating lunch. “So are you going to join us this Saturday at our studio?” You took out a bottle full of cold water from the refrigerator when you opened as Jimin leaned on the wall next to him. “Definitely. I’m excited what you guys have in store for your lessons and I’ll be taking them all too.” You took a couple sips from the water. Jimin looked at you with a raised eyebrow, recalling that you are taking ALL the lessons, “And by all, you mean you’re going to participate in Jungkook’s class too?”
You clenched your lips together in awkwardness, “It wouldn’t be fair if I didn’t take his but yours and Hoseok’s would it?” You sighed, “And besides, even if he cared, he’ll forget I’m even there. He’s going to have a class filled with people, and his main focus is his students.” Leaning against the counter backward, you always felt awkward talking about him with his members, and it wasn’t because you didn’t want to say the wrong thing at all. His hyungs were always lecturing him about you and never accepted the behavior he acted upon you. They didn’t know what really happened the day of the stupid incident because he never liked to talk about it or else he would have been made fun of or worse. They don’t even know why he’s held a grudge against you for so long. So what is the problem? When will he man up and get over it?
Jimin sighed, “At least you’re not an asshole like him.”
“Truth or dare?” Taehyung looked over at Jess as he popped the question.
“Dare.” She smirked.
After playing Jenga, Uno, checkers, and a whole bunch of other games in Taehyung’s house, everyone, including some of the boys’ girlfriends, are sitting in a circle on the floor with beers and snacks playing truth or dare. And unfortunately, Jungkook’s girl, Yuna couldn’t be there. But you felt relieved and happy about it. She’s just as worse as Jungkook. Pretty yet mean and nasty to you.
“Funny you guys are bickering but since you all ate my jjigae, I haven’t gotten a single bowl of it you hungry ass pigs!” Jin exclaimed just when Taehyung and Jess bickered over who has the best shoes.
“It was some good shit though.” Taehyung’s mouth waters, “I wish I could have more.”
Jin mumbles something under his breath and takes one huge gulp of his beer.
“Okay moving on. Truth or dare, Y/N?” Jimin turns to you. You kept your knees close to your chest, looking down as you weren’t prepared for your answer. You were always unsure and nervous about whatever choice you choose. You could feel everyone’s eyes on you, especially Jungkook with his little smirk.
“Ummm… truth?” You weren’t sure but went with it anyway. “Who was your first kiss?”
And that question almost made you shit yourself, “W-What?” You could feel your eyes widened.
How the hell were you going to tell that you’ve never kissed anyone before without feeling embarrassed?
“I’m sure she doesn’t want to reveal her privacy.” Namjoon noticed the nerves just by the position you were in. You were hugging your knees which were up to your chest. Jess even looked over at you in such worry since she’s the only one who knows you haven’t had the experience.
You gulped and stuttered, pushing up your glasses, “I uh… I actually never kissed anyone before.” You said softly as you looked down.
Taehyung raised his eyebrows in surprise, “What? No way. Seriously?” You looked up at Taehyung and looked at all the other reactions. They seemed just as surprised as him.
“That’s surprising.” Yoongi nodded in agreement. Jungkook rolled his eyes in annoyance, “Not a surprise to me, I mean look at her.” He looked over at you in disgust and you only looked down in shame. You felt so embarrassed and disgusted with your own self with not having any experience with a guy at all.
Jess glared over at him just as her blood was boiling, she could beat his ass at any second now, “Shut the fuck up, you ass. She doesn’t need your nasty opinions.”
Jungkook shrugged, “Like I care.”
“I think it’s great that she’s never kissed anyone, Jungkook.” Nari, Taehyung’s girlfriend, spoke in regards to defending you. Nari is sweet and soft, and even a creative person. She’s a cosmetologist in makeup and is definitely talented in making so many makeup combinations. She’s short and a few years older, around the same age as Taehyung. She has gorgeous glowing honey skin with long black colored curly hair, and lovely blue eyes. She’s just as beautiful as Taehyung and to you, they’re considered the most beautiful couple ever.
“It’s a good thing, stop being an ass Jungkook,” Jimin glared at him. You sat there awkwardly but you gave a little smile at Nari for giving her defense.
“Don’t mind him, Y/N. It’s good that you haven’t had your first kiss. You don’t need one, not even a guy. You’re a strong independent woman who doesn’t need a man.” Hoseok, who was sitting beside you, smiled at you with a good rub on your shoulder, “And you are also a beautiful woman.” He added, being sweet and full of sunshine as always. You could feel yourself blush and get shy at his compliment, “Thank you.” You nodded.
Of course, Jungkook shook his head unsatisfied. He knew that you never had a boyfriend. Everyone knew. And he was sure that you weren’t ever going to get one. But what he didn’t know was that you were definitely talking to someone as opposed to be dating soon.
“What do you mean she’s talking to Jonghoon?” He asked Taehyung as he looked at him in disbelief. It was the next morning and the two boys were in the kitchen making themselves some breakfast.
Taehyung glanced over at Jungkook from where he was cutting tofu, “What do you think I mean?”
While sighing, Jungkook bit his lip in question while he shook his head, “You’re kidding me right? He’s a frat! Does she not know that?” Was he actually for real? There’s no way you could be talking to some player. Jonghoon is a friend of Taehyung’s who used to be a trainee at BigHit. He’s damn beautiful and looks like he could be related to Taehyung. Tall, caramel skin, built, an unreal God like face, yet he’s definitely one hell of a man who only hooks up and has one night stands, leaving girls the very next day. Jungkook wasn’t very fond of him because he knows he isn’t the type of guy himself to play around with women.
“Apparently not.” Taehyung shrugged, “I tried telling her that he’s not what she thinks he is, but she didn’t listen.”
“She’s stupid! You could have told Jonghoon to back off! He can’t talk to her! She’s not realizing that fucker could slip his hand in her panties and fuck her! She’s not into those things! She’s not ready and she shouldn’t be anywhere near him” He exclaimed in anger.
“And why all of a sudden are you sounding like you care about Y/N?” Taehyung raised an eyebrow at him, he could sense the protection Jungkook had for you.
“You’re fucking crazy. I don’t give a crap about her. I’m just saying that she shouldn’t be talking to him because he’s not good for her at all.”
Taehyung hummed, but he wasn’t convinced, “Okay, whatever you say. But I can’t forget to add that she’s going on a date with him later this afternoon.” He smirked.
“WHAT?!” Jungkook looked at Taehyung as if his eyes could pop out of his sockets.
“Yeah, you heard me. A date. Where two people who are attracted to each other go and hang out to be romantic and shit like that.” Taehyung kept his little smile, waiting for Jungkook’s major defense mode.
“It’s definitely not an attraction or going to be romantic when really he’s gonna take her home and get in her pants.” He growled and his tongue poked out of his cheek, “She’s not going on that date. I have to go tell her this after I eat breakfast.”
It was around two o’clock in the afternoon and Jungkook took forever to find out where you were going on your date with Jonghoon. Jess could not answer his calls from her being occupied in the studio with Yoongi, Jonghoon wouldn’t tell Taehyung exactly where he was meeting with you, Jimin, Jin, and Namjoon had no idea of you going on a date. That was left with Hoseok who had been stuck in the 3J studio finishing his choreography for his first class tomorrow, had known exactly where you were going to meet Jonghoon. The Lounge Cafe.
It was a twenty minute drive but he didn’t care. He needed to find you and prevent you from hanging out with Jonghoon. When he arrived, the cafe was definitely modernized although that wasn’t the point. His eyes roamed the cafe from sitting in his parked car and that’s where they landed on a familiar girl wearing a cream floral dress, sitting alone outside at a table while reading a book. It was you.
With honesty, Jungkook thought you looked stunning. Maybe because he’s never seen you all dressed up. But your presence somewhat attracted him. His eyes read your look. The way your hair flowed from the light breeze, your adorable wide eyes blinking as you flipped a page, the way your posture is. Undoubtedly yet not realization, Jungkook always had thought you were beautiful without even saying you are. You are just naturally attractive. He wondered what life would have been if you weren’t so irking… or if maybe just things went the right way between you two. Would you two have become friends? Would there have been any feelings of? Well, that’s not that he would know of.
Before his thoughts could go any further to drive him away distractedly, he snapped out of them since he was here for a reason. Jungkook got out of his car, taking his keys, phone, and wallet and slipping them into his sweatpants as his made his way over to you, knowing of the arrangement with Jonghoon. When he reached you, he was already infuriated just as he took a seat in front of you, “Why are you wasting your time?”
You looked up from the page you were reading of your book to find Jungkook sitting right there with an incensed expression on his face. What the hell was he talking about? “Excuse me?” You questioned.
He let out a hollow laugh, “The guy isn’t worth the time, Y/N. Are you blind?” Your eyebrows knitted together in confusion, “You mean Jonghoon? How do you even know him?” Most of all, how did he know about this? Jungkook shook his head, “He is a friend of a friend I have. And he has a reputation Y/N. He doesn’t take too fondly to girls… that aren’t experienced.” His thumbs circled around each other as his fingers were interlocked.
You sighed, “And why do you care? You don’t know if he’s really like that, Jungkook.”
His eyes rolled in exasperation and looked at you, “Look Y/N, I know what I’m saying. I know that douche too well and you are just walking into one of his traps.” He nodded in assurance. “How did you even know about this?” You asked, “First of all, this is my business that you’re barging into. I don’t think he’ll even do such thing to hurt me.”
Jungkook leaned towards you, “He will use you for a bad purpose and break your heart, Y/N.” His voice deepened, “So don’t cry when he leaves you stranded and broken.”
You giggled, not believing him, “Please, he won’t.” You crossed your arms while leaning back on the chair, “And if that doesn’t work out and I end up wrong, then lesson learned. I like him.” You shrugged in yet confidence. Jungkook studied you in distaste with a hum, “You are so blind huh? Not just in sight but in judgment.”
That’s when you just had enough. What rights does he have to be telling you this? You were done kissing his ass, “Judgement? Who are you to tell me this? Why can’t I just like anyone for crying out loud? Are you that surprised at the fact I’m probably going to start dating?” You asked.
Jungkook nodded with no expression, “Obviously yes, as no guy would ever be interested in you anyways.” He shrugged as he sat back. You looked down in distress. It was true, but yet you just had a strong feeling that Jonghoon was actually interested in you, “At least it feels nice when someone is interested in me...” You said quietly.
“As if any guy would.” He said expressionlessly. You have yet nothing to say and he got the message that you were done listening. He got up from his seat as he looked at you with no sympathy, “Don’t blame me if he tears you apart.” And with that, he walked off. You sat there, not knowing what to think. You didn’t want to believe him because you were already over with him being an ass. He couldn’t be telling the truth… right?
The clear skies with shining sun soon faded when dark and grey clouds have flown into them. It would have been much better as a delight to maybe brighten up the day a little and not ruin it for you after what just clearly happened.
Jungkook on the other hand just did not care about what was going on with you and Jonghoon. Or does he because of the guy’s reputation with girls? No, that didn’t matter to him. If Jonghoon did anything to mess with you, then it was your fault for not listening to Jungkook. And he basically told you so. No fucks were given in the end.
At the end of practice at BigHit’s dance studio, Jungkook sat down on the floor with his back against the wall and grabbed his phone. Seeing an odd countless amount of messages from Jess, he was confused. She seemed worried and angry, but why was she?
Jess (4:33pm): Jungkook, idk where you are right now and honestly i don’t care but y/n hasn’t come home and i’m fucking worried.. Like seriously.
Jess(4:33pm): Can you look around and see if you can find her?
Jess(4:36pm): If you don’t, just know your hair won’t make it to the morning :)
Jungkook groaned in annoyance and responded.
Jungkook(5:02pm): Are you serious?? Do I really have to do this? Why can’t you just ask any of the other guys?
Jess(5:07pm): For one, Yoongi is at the studio but he is working on your comeback so he is out of the question. Hoseok is with Family at the moment, Jin is probably asleep, Jimin is out with Taehyung somewhere and Namjoon… I’m not sure where he is but you’re in her area and I need someone asap as my car is out of gas unless I’d be doing this shit my fucking self.
Jungkook(5:08pm) I could just give you money or bring gas to you. I literally have no idea where she is and I am nowhere in any mood to even find her.
Jess(5:12pm): See you’re the last fucking person I want to ask anyway but I need you to do this cause I’m working on something for Mr. Bang and if it’s not finished I am screwed. So just text Namjoon as he was the last one to talk to her after you decided to be an ass before her fucking date. Which I'm tempted to smack you for doing but you’re right about this guy which is why I'm extra worried… so just for my fucking sanity please jungkook. I’ll pay you back in whatever the fuck you ask for, games etc. just do it.
Jungkook(5:14pm): fine, but let this be the last fucking time you ask me to do something with y/n involved. I give no fucks about her or whatever she does with that douche just an FYI.
Jess(5:15pm): you can say that all you want but I know you Jungkook. Just find her, and if that fucker has hurt her tell me so I can plan his fucking funeral.
Jungkook(5:17pm): What is this, you’re not believing me now? In what aspect do you mean by knowing me? As if. But whatever, you can do whatever you want. If she ends up hurt, I’ll tell you. But it’s her fault and I don’t care anyway. She’s a stubborn pain in the ass and is the last person I ever want to put in my car no offense.
Jess(5:18pm): Whatever Jungkook, you act like a douche on purpose but I won’t argue with you as you’re just as hardhead as yoongi. So just find her, I have shit too before Mr. Bang has my head on a pike.
Jungkook(5:19pm): alright fine. I’ll keep you updated if I find her or not.
Jess(5:21pm): Thank you... You really don’t understand how much I am thankful that you are doing this. She is like a daughter to me. So yeah I gtg Mr. Bang is yelling at me now lmao
Jungkook(5:22pm): I mean I guess lol… I’m only doing this for you.
Jess(5:23pm): it won’t only be me in the end, but thanks.
Jungkook(5:23pm): no problem
Jungkook sighed in annoyance and hung up slipped his phone in his pocket. Do I really have to do this? Yes, of course, he does. He’s not that much of an ass to reject doing a favor for someone who needs it. And if Jess is that damn worried about you, then he may as well go out and find you. Jungkook grabbed his backpack and carries it on his back after putting his sweaty towel in and zipping it up. Walking out to his car, he thought to himself, what happens if he doesn’t find you at all?
During the car ride, he went to various places that he could in order to find you. Locations that may seem where you might be based on where you probably like to go. And he even went to the most random places too. He’s driven around everywhere in Seoul basically trying to find just you.
An hour passed and you were not found. Jungkook was in utter anger and stress that he’s wasted on time looking for you. He just wanted to go home badly to rest, and at that point for finding you everywhere, he’s given up. He shook his head and turned his car around to his way home. How was he going to tell Jess that he didn’t find you?
Although it was one question that he was focused on, there was another one that he just couldn’t help but keep thinking about the most. Is she okay?
The thought if it makes him worry a little. And it was odd. Where could you possibly be that you suddenly disappeared all day? Then suddenly while driving down a road, he found someone familiar walking on the sidewalk with their head down. Their outfit just seemed to look too much like what you were wearing earlier. Your figure and the way you walk even caught him off guard. With curiosity and hope, Jungkook slowly drove up close to get a better look of you, and as soon as he was just there, it was suddenly and thankfully you, walking with your head down.
To be sure of it, Jungkook rolled down his window and slowed down next to you, “Y/N?” The familiar voice caught you off guard and caused you to turn. Surprisingly, you found Jungkook in his black luxurious car right next to you. And it was definitely bad that he could see your face full of sadness and regret.
Jungkook, who was ready to pop off his madness and yell at you, studied your face. Your eyes were puffy and watery, your nose was red and cheeks were a peachy color. You had been crying and for some reason, his face softened. It was weird seeing you cry and it didn’t make him feel good inside at all.
“Go ahead, laugh at me.”
Jungkook stood there with trying to keep no expression on his face, but he only blinked, “I… I’m not going to,” he said quietly and he took a deep breath with his chest rising, “Get in, it’s gonna rain soon and Jess is worried sick.”
You shook your head with your arms still locked, and making no eye contact with him, “No thanks, I’m fine.” You turned to walk off in the same direction you were heading. That wasn’t until “Y/N please.” Jungkook watched you walk away. But you just kept walking. You knew you didn’t want to deal with him. But he wasn’t going to let you walk away from him.
“Y/N please stop.” His voice arose and it sounded quite like a demand. But that didn’t stop you from turning around with a pissed look on your face with tears streaming down your cheeks. “And why do you care?” And at that, Jungkook stays silent for a while.
You couldn’t be bothered to turn around to face him properly, for your insides were seething with rage and your heart felt empty to the core. Jungkook was right, he always was. The things he said to your face, how badly he spoke of you, and now this, about the guy who you thought was pretty decent—and something about Jeon Jungkook being right about everything is making your jaw clench in anger as you recall the buried grudge he has for you. Why must he keep meddling in your life? Right now, you wished he just disappeared off the face of earth. That way, your life would be much, much easier. You wouldn’t have to keep caring about your stupid feelings getting hurt and being the constant target and Jungkook’s antics.
And that’s the worst part. Feelings.
You’ve been harboring them for him god knows since when and you are afraid to open up about it to him. There’s this side of you Jungkook always fails to see and you doubt he ever will. Even if he does, it is highly unlikely that he would even care. And that is the question bothering you most as of the moment.
Why did he fucking care?
With your back facing him, you missed how he churns on his inner cheek and doesn’t know where to put his gaze. The rain pattering on the concrete floor didn’t provide him with the answers he needed. He directed the question back to himself and he realized he could not give closure as well.
With a sigh, he spoke, “Because I hate seeing you sad when it’s because of someone else hurting you like no one should or I shouldn’t.”
“I know you’re upset but can you please get in the car for my own good sake to get you home and save you from being sick at least?” Without a word, or looking at him, you walked past him and your shoulders barely touched as you walked to the passenger side of his car. That gave him a slight tingle in himself as he’s rarely been that close to you.
On the way back home, it was pure silence in the thin atmosphere. Jungkook gave glances to you here and there but you never once took a glimpse at him. And your position was obvious. You were sitting with your legs tightly closed and your fingers were brushing against each other as you only looked out the window, keeping your emotions as stable as you could. But it was so difficult to just give in and not cry. Then you realized, how could you be so stupid to not listen to him? He was right. You were angry. Not at Jungkook. But yourself. You felt bitchy. So bitter. Yet it was wrong to be that way to him. Although he has had a big hatred for you, you just can’t ever treat him the same. It just doesn’t work that way for you, which is a big problem. You’re too nice.
“He hurt you didn’t he?” His soft voice snapped you out of your thoughts, that you didn’t even realize he was already parked in front of your apartment. You gazed over at him and by the look on your face, Jungkook felt a little pang in his heart. Eyes puffy and glossy, your nose and cheeks peachy. He has never seen you cry once before, not even has he seen you express a sad or depressing emotion. He’s always seen you smile.
“Yes. And I let him.” Your voice cracked as if it hit the flu. Jungkook clenches his lips as he caught your eyes blink with tiny little tears, “What did he do?” You shook your head, “Just something that I learn my mistake from. It’s nothing-“
“Y/N” He started, “What did he do?” He stared at you with a straight face, almost like a demand. And it wasn’t that he was forcing you. He needed to know.
You sighed quietly as you could feel the slight order from him and you just couldn’t say no to him. “He groped me.” You vocalized in a shaky tone. Jungkook could feel his blood boil fast and kept calm, “Where did he touch you, Y/N?” His voice lowered.
“I c-can’t tell you-“
“If you can’t tell me, then point to where did he touch you.”
You gulped and your heart thumped rapidly, “Um…” You didn’t want any trouble at all and you were so hesitant in just telling him Jonghoon’s attempt to getting in your pants. But Jungkook could tell what he tried to do when you stuttered and look down at your most private area. As soon as you picked your head up at him, your tears were already swimming around your eyes, “H-He-“ you tried to speak but you were cut off by Jungkook’s hand grabbing you and pulling you onto his lap with your legs straddling him, in which you began to let out a breathy cry. His arms engulfed around your fragile figure and he held you tight in his arms, your response with burying your face in his neck with your hands on his hard chest as you sobbed in his neck.
But this was weird. You’re sitting on your enemy’s lap and he’s comforting you. He’s practically holding you in his own arms and you’re letting him. Ye his comfort made you feel safe… and you didn’t want to pull away. You didn’t even dare to. His soothing fingers stroking your hair as his hand rubbed your back slowly but keeping a light grip on you.
Jungkook on the other hand, he didn’t know what in the hell is he doing or what he was thinking. Why is he holding you? Why did he grab you and suddenly felt that he needed to protect you? He was in rage deeply inside and one of these days when he finds Jonghoon, he’ll make sure he doesn’t have his perfectly straight teeth.
You were glued to each other, the steady beat of his heart making you never want to open your eyes. Some nights, you’d lie awake just thinking about what he would say if he ever felt guilty about what he did and here it was. And somehow, it was so much more than what you asked for. But you also were wary. The bigger part of you, though, knew he was being sincere, that he held this crushing guilt over his head over what happened between you two for the past five to six years.
”You don’t deserve this,” he softly spoke up along a sigh, “You’re too special and fragile…” He added.
Wait what? You pulled away from his neck and looked at him, “What?” Your cold soft voice barely could be audible. Jungkook got a better glimpse of you up close—broken and terrified. And it sure damn stabbed his own heart deeply. He locked a piece of your hair behind your ear as he stared at you, “I know I was an ass to you earlier but I know that what I’m about to tell you is what I really mean to say. You’re too unique and wonderful for him. He’s nothing but a scumbag looking for a just a fuck and you don’t need that. You need and will get a guy who will treat you loyally and kindly with all of his love for who you are. Any guy would be lucky to have you, Y/N. Wait for him…the right one will sweep you off your feet.” His thumb rubbed your hip softly and the feeling warmed your skin.
You blinked. Is he really telling you this or are you just dreaming?
He sighed, “Just trust me.” He said softly. Jungkook reached his hand up to your face and wiped your tears gently with his thumb, “You’re so beautiful…” And it was true to him. Being this up close to you, he was able to see your flaws but they resembled how gorgeous you are. You shook your head, you didn’t believe that “I’m not that-“
“Yes, you are.” He cut you off, “Honestly, you’re so attractive and stunning, don’t tell yourself you’re not beautiful when you have seen yourself in the mirror.” He looked into your eyes, deep into them.
And you just didn’t know what else to say because his brown doe eyes caught you off guard. Neither of you could look away and it’s like your eyes were having a never lasting conversation with each other. You could feel your own pupils dilate the more you looked closely into his, and you could have sworn that his eyes looked at your lips then at you. But you also didn’t think he did. And at that moment, it was when you come to the realization of what was going on, causing you to clear your throat, “Um..” you hummed, which had Jungkook probably get the memo too. You looked down awkwardly as your mind was going crazy but you remained calm, “Thanks for the ride… and listening.” You said softly. Jungkook eyes darted elsewhere but you with a blank expression on his face, “Yeah,” he started, “No problem.” He said and he just sat there, his tongue poking out of his.
You slowly got off his lap to the passenger side and got out his car, grabbing your bag as you fixed yourself and closing the door afterward without saying a word. Making your way into your apartment, you didn’t dare to look back. After locking the front door, you leaned your back against it, questioning what just happened.
You almost kissed your enemy.
#jungkook x reader#jeongguk x reader#jungkook imagine#jungkook#jungkook smut#jungkook au#BTS jungkook#bts imagine#bts scenarios#enemies to lovers au#bts smut#her blooming flower#hbf
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That Woman Over There - Chapter 25
A You Me and Him Fix-it Fic
Rating: Teen, for mild sexuality
Word count: 7022
Warnings: none
Summary: ~ Set after the birth of Monty, Olivia’s baby ~ A dear friend of Olivia comes to visit for a week, and she disturbs the fragile peace between her, Alex, and John.
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7| Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19 | Chapter 20 | Chapter 21 | Chapter 22 | Chapter 23 | Chapter 24 |
This is it. The second to last chapter. On the page, the dust has settled and destinies are set in motion. And in reality is me, in messy hair and pajamas, sobbing in front of my laptop screen at how happy I am for these characters. I cried at their pain, and now my heart soars with their happiness. Is it something that happens with other other writers? I hope it isn’t just me.
She wrapped her arms around him and kissed his cheek. “Hey you. I’m surprised you’re still up.” She walked around the sofa and sat on his lap. The tv set off weird shadows in his living room.
“How’s Olivia?” He pulled her closer.
“Fine,” she said. “Cried for bit more, but honestly, she’s a fucking trooper. I didn’t do nearly so well early on.”
He caressed her cheek. “Me neither. I spent three days in my shop, crying and not being able to get anything done. Crying and woodworking don’t mix though – moisture makes the wood swell.”
“You can be funny about it now.” She covered his face in kisses. “I think I’d fall to itty bitty pieces if I saw you weep. And not because you’re a man, though. Because you’re you.”
“Or maybe because I’m a seriously ugly crier,” he said. “Even my ma says so.”
“Awww,” she said. “I didn’t know it was a thing. Who cries pretty anyway?”
“Actresses, I guess,” he said.
“Yeah, because it’s not real,” she said, and looked at the TV. “What you watching?”
“Nothing important,” he said, and turned it off before she could get a good look.
“No, you don’t,” she said, and wrested the remote back.
“We shouldn’t even be watching telly now. Time’s a-wastin’,” he said, wrapping her arms around her waist and trying to tickle it away.
“I want to see what you were watching,” she said.
“Something manly. A car show,” he said jokingly.
“How’s that manly?” she said, giving him a quizzical look. He forgot she’s been living with lesbians for 15 years. “I saw period costumes. Do those hosts wear those?” She waggled her brows and turned on the television.
She smiled. “Pride and Prejudice. The one with Colin Firth as Mr. Darcy,” she said, nodding her head. “You’re a man of discerning taste.”
He shrugged.”I don’t like the newer adaptations. Ehle and Firth got it right,” he said.
“And it’s not on demand. You own the DVD, thank you very much,” she said, and kissed his neck.
“I’m a sucker for an underdog love story,” he said.
“Is that what it is?” she said.
“Mr. Darcy wasn’t terribly skilled with the lady,” he said. “But with patience and respect, he finally earned her love.”
“What would the mouth breathers say to you being a Jane Austen fan?”
“The mouth breathers can lick my arse,” he said. She giggled into his shoulder. He blushed and rubbed her back.
“You’re not going to get rid of that thing in your bedroom, are you?” she said, referring to the framed slogan.
“I don’t think so. I might put it up in my shop, to remind me. Not only of the bad, but the good.”
“Hail to the alpha!” she said, and reached around to pinch his butt. He slapped hers and growled, and they kissed until they were breathless.
“Take me upstairs,” he said, and slid his hand up her shirt.
“But you just started it,” she said, pointing to the tv.
“And?” he said. He kissed the swell of her breast.
“I want to quality time with you outside of bed,” she said, and scratched lightly at his lower back.
He tipped his head to look at her. Already, she made him feel like he’d wasted 13 years. Him and Olivia spoke about the difference between lust and love. Neither of them were innocent of obsession. But this, although passionate, did not feel the same.
“Do you know that your expressions change when you’re thinking?” she said, smiling up at him. “It’s adorable. What’s on your mind?”
He rolled off and spooned her. “Things. Good things,” he said.
“I’m glad,” she said. She played with the coral beads at his wrists. “You wanna know something strange?”
“Always,” he said, and wriggled his way to comfort behind her.
“Being around you is relaxing. I know I only have hours left with you, but your warmth makes me so sleepy. Not an exhausted sleepy, just a deep relaxation feeling.”
“It might be all the sex,” he joked. She laced her fingers in his. “But seriously. Maybe it’s that you’re not anxious.”
“You’re right,” she said, taking a deep breath. Even that felt easier around him.
“You’ll find I’m right a lot,” he said.
“Wit,” she said, and stuck her tongue out at him.
“When we first met, you looked like you could break rocks with your bare hands,” he said. “Just, squeeze, and grind them to dust.”
“How’d you figured out my secret talent?”
“Wit,” he repeated, and nuzzled her. “Did you ever watch The Neverending Story?”
“Of course,” she said. “It was dubbed in Spanish, though. Watching it in the original english is still weird,” she said, and laughed. “The voices are so off.”
“You remember the Rock Biter?” he said.
“Are you calling me lumpy 50 foot rock creature?” she said, turning to him.
“No. He crushed and ate rocks.”
She shrugged. “I wouldn’t be mad if you did. He had a pretty awesome motorcycle,” she said.
“I was more partial to the super speedy snail,” he said.
“It was pretty amazing,” she said, and her eyes went distant. “Are you gonna speak to Alex?” she said.
“Way to change the subject,” he said.
She turned to face him. “Are you okay?” she said. “I haven’t forgotten what happened.”
“I’ll be fine,” he said. “I don’t think I’ve fully processed it. I don't hate her, though. Far from it.”
“But you’ll tell me if you’re not fine?” she said, searching his gaze.
“I promise,” he said, kissing her fingertips.
“Good,” she said, and turned back toward the tv. “I don’t do the strong silent type thing. You can talk to me. I don’t promise I won’t initially act in the defensive if it’s about me, but for you, I promise to push through and listen.”
He sat up. “Who even are you?” he said, shaking his head.
“What? Criticism is hard. But I’ve got to listen if it’s from someone I love. It’s important.” And she meant it. She would not become her mother.
“There you go again,” he said, and stood. She sat up.
“What?” she said.
He walked in front of the window and held out his hand. She wrapped her arms around him.
“I realized in all this time, we haven’t danced,” he said.
“We’ve done the horizontal bop enough,” she said. She snorted. “The no pants dance. The beast with two backs.”
“Wit,” he said.
“You like to dance?”
“I love to. I can’t say I’m good at it, but I do it as often as possible,” he said. He scrolled on his phone while his other arm rested around her waist.
“You saw my awesome pop and lock skills,” she said, perking up.
“Awesome, though? Hmmm,” he said and giggled his maddening high giggle.
“Pfft. I can throw down with the best of the b boys,” she said.
“Eh … I have a feeling you can’t,” he said.
She chuckled and tried to look at his phone. “So, you have any slow jams in there?”
“Lots,” he said, squinting at the screen. “All the finest.” He selected something with a sardonic grin. Instead of Billie Holliday or Damien Rice, Ariana Grande’s flutelike voice filled his living room.
“No Luther Vandross?” she said. He gave her a challenging look. Her eyes narrowed. The techno chorus made the comic book figurines on his shelves tremble. With a laugh, they danced madly around the room.
The fell on the sofa, panting and smiling.
“I can’t understand a word they were saying, but the music slams,” she said, wiping the sweat from her brow.
“I learned the important phrases in Korean - like hello, I’m hungry, and let me love you, girl,” he said with a giggle. She took off her shirt and dabbed it on her chest. He waggled his brows and ran his finger between her breasts. “I love a sweaty woman.”
“Good, ‘cause I sweat like horse,” she said. “I’ve sometimes broken a sweat while thinking.”
“I think you mean ‘sweat like a pig’,” he said.
“That’s silly. Pigs don’t sweat,” she said. “What are you thinking about that makes you sweat?” he said.
“Stuff and things,” she said, and winked at him. “Are you ever gonna tell me why you love K-pop so much?”
He went to the kitchen, then came back with two beers. “It started in uni. My roommate Will used it as a concentration aid whenever he wrote code. At first it drove me mad, but then I began to understand his method. The music’s fast, and good, but since we couldn’t understand the words at the time, it made the work go fast.”
“So that’s why you listen to it in the shop as well?” she said. “To concentrate?”
“Yes, and also because it’s awesome,” he said. They cuddled on the sofa and drained their beers.
“Are you going to completely give up Big Data?” she said, smiling. She liked saying it.
“I might want to open a custom furniture business sometime, but I know I won’t be able to stop writing code.”
“You’re serious about that? The furniture?” she said. “Not that you can’t do it. Liv’s desk is absolutely gorgeous.”
“Of course,” he said. I’ll work out a barn in rural Scotland and ship my creations all around the world. My pieces will be a silent symbol that you’ve made it.”
Her eyes got bigger. ”That’s ambitious,” she said. “Will you make me something?”
“Sure. A matching love spoon. Or a carved salt and pepper set. You know, things you can afford on your meager artist’s salary.” She rolled her eyes and kissed his shoulder. “Or, maybe, if you want and we ever get to that point, of course …”
“What?” she said. She put her legs on his lap.
“A house.” She was silent. He fidgeted. Maybe it was too much, too soon. “Or not. I said it only because I remember you mentioning you hated living in New York. It’s silliness,” he said quickly.
She shook her head, but got on his lap and kissed his face repeatedly. “I do. It’s filthy. I miss clean air and green things as far as the eye can see.”
“How about dirty white things?” He meant sheep.
“Huh?” she said. She was humbled. How easily he can offer her love, shelter, and safety. Again, she wondered what she had to offer him. Being in that home only three months in the year? Discomfort crawled up her spine as she realized that maybe Ella … maybe she wasn’t a heartless monster. Maybe, she needed more than financial stability. She invited her along many times, but Ella wasn’t like her in that way. She didn’t need to be in the different place every month to feel like she was accomplishing something. She just needed her attention, and her time. She sighed.
“I’ve ruined the mood, haven’t I?” he said. “Typical.”
She kissed him, softly and repeatedly. He flushed with the tender attention, but held her closer.
“You haven’t ruined a thing,” she whispered, and kept going.
“I know it’s adolescent to lie around planning your life together after only a week,” he said. “I don’t want to make you feel pressured. I’m immensely lucky that you even agreed to call me sometimes after tomorrow.”
She grunted. “Call you sometimes?” she grunted. “I would have you at no more than arm’s length if I could.”
He sat up. “I could be your assistant. Build the installations,” he said. “Then we’d never be apart.”
“You deserve more than building framing,” she said.” I don’t want you following me around like a one person entourage.”
“I can do what I want with my skills,” he said. “I’m pretty handy with a hammer.”
“You have far too brilliant a skill set for such things. And no, being in love isn’t adolescent.”
“I didn’t say that. Playing an adult game of M.A.S.H. after a fortnight is. A little,” he said. “I can wait.”
“The reason teenagers do that is because they haven’t gotten their hearts broken yet. Not because they’re young and silly,” she said. “It’s not time, but experience that makes us cautious.”
“You’re not just beautiful, but wise,” he quipped, but she fascinated him. It was absolutely true.
She got off his lap. “Let’s go outside and look at the stars,” she said. He took her hand and guided her to a wood lounger close to his lilies.
“Your garden smells incredible,” she said. They lay side by side, looking at the sky. Gladly, the last of the rain clouds drifted away by sunset. The moon was almost full, and it painted their skin silver. “The lilies are glowing.”
“Mmm,” he said, and pulled her closer.
“I’m going to miss you. So much,” she said. Her voice trembled dangerously.
“Shh,” he said, but his eyes burned. “Maybe the separation is only temporary. I’ve always dreamt of driving down the Pacific Coast Highway with the top down. In the next couple of months, I might not be able to resist finally doing it.”
“Although not as jewel colored, it’s way more calm than the Caribbean Sea. I love the Pacific,” she said.
“Especially if you’re in the passenger’s seat,” he said, breathing into her hair.
“I don’t want to insert myself in your dream,” she said.
“Dreams aren’t worth dreaming without you in them,” he said.
“Aww,” she said. “Now you’ve done it.” She burst into tears.
“Oh no you don’t,” he said, but a tear slid down his right cheek. “You’ve got me started too.”
They held each other and sobbed for a solid three minutes.
“Okay, okay, we can’t do this all night,” she said, and sniffed. “Say something happy.”
“I love you,” he said.
She wiped his cheeks and kissed his lips lightly. “I love you too.”
He squeezed her so hard her ribs creaked.
“You know what you said a few nights ago, about not be afraid to share our hearts?” he said. He hiccuped.
“The reprieve,” she said.
“You said we can speak our hearts unafraid for one night. Can we do that … permanently?” he said.
“Yes,” she said. He laced his fingers in hers.
“Okay. I want to build you a house,” he said. “A big, fine one. With a big veranda, and gingerbread detailing. Oh, and stained glass over the door.”
She kissed his cheek. “What’s gingerbread detailing?”
“It’s a type of architectural style with really fanciful, artistic latticework.”
“So it’s like the love spoon, but we can live in it?” she said.
“More or less,” he said. “I’ll build my shop near it, so I’ll never be far,” he said. “It will be the most magnificent house in the area.”
“Now you sound proud,” she said, giggling.
“Only the best for you,” he said.
“And how many rooms will it have?” she said.
“Enough,” he said. “Just in case.”
“Just in case what?” She poked his side.
“Just in case,” he repeated, and shrugged.
“I have a feeling you’re not talking about extra storage for all my shoes,” she said with a smile.
“No,” he said.
“I’ll carve our initials in every plank and fitting, too. For positive vibes,” he said. She sat up and caressed him.
“We can live in a shithole apartment in Brooklyn and it would be the best place ever, you know that? Just as long as we’re together.”
He kissed her hand, and got back to imagining. “Nope. No more shitholes. No more irritating intellectuals and tourists. And there will be water nearby - a river, or maybe even the ocean.”
“But isn’t water bad for wood?” she said.
“I’ll figure something out. Maybe use more stone.” She could tell he was really thinking things through. And it filled her with joy.
“And what about the master bedroom?” she said, caressing up his thigh. When she got to the top, she squeezed.
“It will be cozy.” She unbuttoned his jeans and reached inside. “What about our quality time?” he said, but he shifted toward her.
“I can attest to the fact that this kind of time is of the finest quality,” she said, and moaned in his ear as she wrapped her hand around him. “And you mentioned something earlier about tilling your garden however you choose...”She got on top of him.
“I did say that,” he said. “But there’s one little problem.”
“What’s that?” she said into his neck between kisses.
“A noise problem,” he said. He put his hand in her pants and curled two fingers inside her. She let out a long, deep groan. She chuckled. “Told you.”
She stood up quickly. “Let’s go inside.”
He sucked his fingers. “As you wish,” he said with a smile.
She got up before dawn without her alarm. He slept deeply in her arms, so she untangled herself and tiptoed into the bathroom.
As she showered, she washed her hair with his shampoo. It wasn’t much, but her hair would smell like him for the next couple of days. The sun came up through the window. She felt both light and heavy. She rubbed soap on her inner thighs, and sighed at the ache. Despite what happened, she needed to focus on her art. It was going to be a long, long three months. She dried herself and went back into the bedroom, where he waited.
She dropped her towel and crawled into bed with him. They pressed their foreheads together and breathed together until the worst of the pain passed.
“I can’t help thinking…” he said. His voice was still rough with sleep.
“Hmmm?” she said, kissing up his shoulder.
“Of that wet towel on the floor,” he said with a chuckle. She groaned and rolled out of bed. “Wait, I was joking,” he said, trying to pull her back.
“No, you weren’t,” she said. “I was a bit spoiled growing up. Clean and tidy isn’t my forte.” She hung the towel on a peg. “My ex spoiled me as well. I didn’t really have to do much. She took care of the house stuff.”
He pooched his lips out.
“I sense disapproval,” she said as she dressed.
“If my ma sees dirty dishes and dust when she visits, she’ll swoon,” he said.
“But that just means the house is lived in.” She turned her back to hide her mirth. He looked genuinely at a loss for works. She burst into laughter and dove in bed. “I can see that being clean and tidy is important to you. I’ll be more mindful, but I can’t go from zero to Mary Poppins in three months.”
“You make it sound like I’ll be doing a white glove test every day,” he said. “If we’re both busy, we can get someone in.” He made a funny face as he said it that tickled her.
“Your Scottish sensibilities would love that,” she said, wiping her eyes. “Dios mio, to actually say those words - you really are into me.”
“Told you,” he said, and hugged her tight.
“The cab to the airport gets here in an hour and a half – I have to go back to Olivia’s for my things,” she said.
“I’ll go with you,” he said. He jumped out of bed and ran into the bathroom. He brushed his teeth and washed his face and tried not to think of it, but he got sicker with every second. She was something special. Monumental. But she was leaving. So much could happen in the interim.
He bent over the sink and let the water drip off his face.
Now that she was in his bed, he wanted no one else to share it. Now that they kissed, he wanted no other brand. A ghost pain radiated from his spine, and his facial muscles twitched. He knew that weeping would not keep her there, but his body curled with the desire to do it. He wasn’t a young man anymore, but he wanted to call his ma and cry to her like he hadn’t when Mara left. Not out of sadness, but happiness and impatience.
He decided he would go to Scotland to see her. Soon. Today. He needed to tell her everything, and have her help him unpack everything with her usual honesty and grace. After deciding that, he didn’t feel so weak, and he combed his hair and met her in the kitchen, where she combed her damp hair standing in front of the window. The sun gilded her wavy chestnut hair, and she hummed something unfamiliar.
“You took long enough,” she said, turning and smiling. He whimpered and hugged her from the back, pressing his lips against the warm apple of her cheek. She put her hands over his. “I’m not complaining. You look fantastic.”
“So do you,” he said. He pulled out his phone out. “Let’s do a selfie.”
“You and your selfies,” she said, but she posed as he help the phone in front of them.
“I’d photograph you every day if I could,” he said. “Smile.” He hugged her tight, and she beamed. The phone clicked.
“Okay, let’s go,” she said. He pulled her close and kissed her. The phone clicked.
“Perfect,” he said. “That’s the screen saver.”
“You’re such a nerd,” she said.
“I never promised anything different,” he said with a wink. “I’ll text it to you.” She snorted. He nuzzled her. “You know you want it. My face makes your heart happy.”
“Yes,” she said. “Come on. It’s almost time.” She walked out the door, but he wasn’t behind her. She double back. “What you doing?” she yelled.
“Go ahead. I’ll be right there,” he responded from the top of the stairs.
When she knocked on Connie’s door, she was already having breakfast with Monty.
“How are you doing, sweetie?” Connie said, and hugged her.
“Okay. We’re packed and ready to go,” she said. “Mother’s expecting me this afternoon.”
She walked to the living room for her things. “Did, uh, Alex call you?” Connie said.
“No. And I don’t expect it,” Liv said. Connie gave her another squeeze, then started gathering her things and throwing them in the suitcase. Liv rolled her eyes.
“If you fold things, you can fit a lot more in there,” she said. She reached out to help her, but Connie slapped her hand.
“Leave it. I have a system,” she said. She bunched a shirt into a ball and stuffed it into a corner. The only thing that was neatly folded and wrapped in tissue at the bottom was the dress John gifted her.
John walked in holding Monty. “Good morning, Liv. Ready to go to grandmum’s?” he said to Monty.
“Jun!” he said, and nodded.
“I’m going to miss you, honey,” he said to the boy, and tickled his belly.
“You’ll be around soon, right?” Olivia said.
“I promise. But I’m going to Scotland for a bit,” he said, and put Monty down to scrutinize Connie’s suitcase.
“Oh God, not you too,” she said, waving him away. “Like I told Connie, I’ve got a system.” She stuffed her jewelry bag in the mesh on the suitcase flap.
“Sure. Systemized chaos,” he said.
Olivia laughed. “That’s what her father always says,” she said.
“Ha ha and hee hee. Have a laugh,” she said, making a face. John plucked the jewelry bag from the suitcase.
“This should be in a secure carry-on – something you have with you at all times,” he said.
“All I’ve got is this suitcase, and my bag.” She held up a large, expensive looking leather satchel. “Your love spoon’s in here as well.”
“That will do,” he said, and put it inside. “Liv’s pearls are in there. You don’t want some greedy airport security guard taking those.”
“I’m gonna go make myself decent for international travel,” Connie said, and went to the bathroom upstairs with a toilette bag.
Liv struggled to put shoes on the baby – he hated them, but his grandmother didn’t think it proper for the boy to be barefoot all the time.
“Has he done any more walking?” John said, sitting down.
“Yeah, a little this morning. Mother’s going to be so pleased,” she said. “When are you going to Scotland?”
“This afternoon. After you go, I’m packing up and going to my ma’s,” he said. “It’s been too long.” He had not seen her since before the divorce.
“Getting away will be nice.” She tried to smile, but couldn’t.
He gave her a quick hug. “You will get through this,” he said. “If my goofy arse can, you absolutely will.”
“I think …” she started, but she shook her head.
“You think what?”
“I don’t want to be a lawyer anymore either,” she said. “I think I’m done with that.”
“You don’t want to practice law?” Connie said. Her hair was slicked back in a trendy high bun, and her skin glowed with extra moisturizer. Airplane air was horribly dry.
Liv shrugged. “If I’m going to really try for happiness, I think it’s a place to start. You were right, Connie. I never wanted to be a lawyer. I was miserable, and there’s no reason for it. I’m starting over … completely.”
Connie hugged her tight. “Wow. This is huge,” she said. “What are you going to do? You can’t go to an ashram with Monty.”
Liv chuckled. “No ashrams. I have some thoughts of where to start, though.”
“The old folks?” John said.
“Something along that vein,” Olivia said. “I want to actually help people.”
“I wish you luck telling that to your parents,” she said.
“Thanks. I’ll need it. But I’m determined.”
“Good,” Connie said. “You think there’s time for something to-” Her phone buzzed, and there was a honk from outside.
“Cab’s here,” Liv said.
“Fuckfuckfuck,” Connie said. She grabbed her bag and pulled her suitcase off the sofa. “I love you all. So much,” she said. Then, she dropped everything and hugged both John and Olivia close. They squeezed together, with Monty in the middle.
“Text me when you get home,” Liv said into her shoulder.
“Yeah. Call me. Just as soon as you get out of the plane,” John said. He was trying valiantly not to start weeping. “I don’t care what time it is.”
“Of course. To both of you,” she said. There was a more insistent honk.
They were about to break when John pulled out his phone again.
“Selfie?” Connie said with a smile. Her throat burned with tears.
“Yeah. With all of us,” he said. He held the phone high. “To blessed change, and new beginnings. Say cheese!’”
“Cheese!” Even Monty smiled up at the camera.
The cab driver leaned on the horn.
John and Connie hugged again.
“I’ll call you just as soon as the wheels hit the runway at Kennedy,” Connie said, wiping away tears. “I promise.”
“Keep trying if I don’t answer – sometimes reception is spotty on a train,” he said. He couldn’t let go of her.
“Right. You’re going to your mother’s. Tell her hello for me,” she said, extricating herself from his arms. He still held her hand as they walked to the pavement. The cab driver was poker faced. After all, it was her who would miss her plane if she kept messing about.
Olivia walked to the curb and waved Monty’s little hand. “Bye aunt Connie! See you soon!”
She shoved her suitcase in the cab, then threw her bag on the seat.
John kissed her hand, then let go. “Until later,” he said.
It was not a goodbye. She would do everything in her power to see him again, as soon as possible. She got into the cab, and he closed the door.
“Ready to go, miss? The man said in a heavy Northern accent.
John waved and blew her a kiss. She returned it. “Yes, please.”
The man put the cab into gear and pulled away from the curb. She closed her eyes and tried her best not to burst into tears when she heard a shout. He looked in his rearview, and John was jogging alongside the cab. He pounded on the window.
“Wait!
The man slowed to a stop, and Connie spilled out into the middle of the street.
He panted.”I forgot. I have one last gift. The cab came sooner than I expected.” He reached around his neck and pulled off the jet rosary.
Connie’s lips parted. “But … this is your grandmother’s. Her engagement gift,” she said. He opened her hand, put the necklace in it, then closed her fingers around it.
“You said we should always be completely honest,” he said. She nodded and bit her lip. Tears began to slide down her cheeks. “You actually see me. I noticed from the first time you looked at me. After a lifetime of feeling nearly invisible, it’s the most glorious feeling on Earth to be loved by a woman as extraordinary as you. And I want nothing more than to show you how much I adore you for that. Will you keep it for me?”
The cab driver watched everything from the rear view. He’d been a hack for almost 20 years, and he had seen all sorts of drama – people making up and breaking up and running away from their lives in a thousand different ways. He thought he was impervious to it all. But this couple was different.
They reminded him of the romantic films he saw in secret when he was young. It was Bogart and Bergman, but he had a gut feeling this would be happy ending. He saw it in their eyes. She was leaving, but she wasn’t running. He couldn’t wait to tell his old lady when he got home. After a long day of sewing and current world events, she could use a little sunshine.
She put it around her own neck and tucked it underneath her blouse, next to her skin.
“I will,” she said. “I’ll never take it off.”
“Then say a little prayer for us too,” he said. He took her in her arms and gave her one last kiss then lingered, sipping on her breath. “Soon, we’ll be whizzing down the PCH. Wind in our hair. Ariana on the radio.”
She giggled and hiccuped. “Yes. Soon.”
“Before you know it,” he said, and walked her back to the cab. “You’ve made me a very happy man. Thank you.”
“Thank you, for loving me into a new life,” she said. “I don’t want to imagine where I’d be if I hadn’t impulsively decided to visit Livvie between jobs.”
“Me neither,” he said, making a face. “But we don’t have to, right?”
“No,” she said. She got into the cab. The driver waited, rapt. “I love you, John William Helm.”
“I love you, white dove,” he said with a smile.
“Are you ready to go, miss?” the cab driver said again.
“No,” she said. He hit the gas and drove away slowly. She waved until they turned the corner.
Her phone buzzed. It was a 5 second video of him blowing a kiss. She burst into tears.
Olivia and Monty walked slowly back to the house. John stood on the curb, looking in the direction where she’d driven away.
“Alright, darling. We’re off too,” she said to the baby. She went into the kitchen and double checked to make sure there were no perishables left in the fridge or on the counters. She looked around at the colorful pans, and the paisley curtains.
She was leaving the nest.
She wondered how Alex was doing, and whether she was at her mother’s. Regardless of where she was, she knew she could take care of herself. Eventually, they would have to speak for one last time to make the final break, but she was in no hurry. Alex would find her when she was ready.
John walked in and let out a dramatic sigh. “I love her, Olivia. Truly.”
“I believe you do,” she said, patting his shoulder. “Will you help me with the last of it?” She nodded at a rollie suitcase and some miscellaneous toys that Monty loved. He grabbed as much as he could and followed her to the car. After he loaded everything, she locked the door behind her, and handed him the keys. “Just in case.”
“Okay,” he said. “I’m going to miss you being my neighbor.”
“We’ll still be around. Monty has a lot of milestones to go.”
He laughed. “I love you both. Text me when you get to your ma’s safely. Tell ‘em I’ll be round soon enough.”
“They’ll love it,” she said as she slid into the driver’s seat. They did not have the highest opinion of John after everything that happened. But their budding friendship was just one more new thing they’d have to deal with from her. He peeked into the car and waved at Monty. He wriggled in his car seat and waved back joyfully.
“Bye bye,” he said.
“Bye,” Monty said clearly.
Olivia put her hand over Johns. “Thanks for everything.”
“It’s my pleasure,” he said. “Good luck.”
“I’ll need it,” she said, and pulled out of the driveway.
He watched her go, then walked into his house with a heavy heart. The happy house next door was empty. But his heart - it was full. He went upstairs and pulled his suitcase out from under his bed. He wanted to have a nice, long visit with his ma, so he organized enough clothing for a week. He zipped up his suitcase, then sat down at the bed. He grabbed the pillow she used and breathed deeply. Traces of her perfume and sweat made him smile.
He thought of calling his ma, but she had long retired and didn’t have much else to do but potter in her garden and have a gossip with her long-time next door neighbor. Hopefully, she would be happy to see him.
He couldn’t wait to dig his fingers into that familiar earth, but with a whole new heart.
Four months later
McWay Falls, Big Sur, California, USA
Janice teetered way too close to the edge of the cliff to get a better look at the falls.
“Mother Mary!” he yelled, and ran to her. “Wanna get yerself kilt?” John said is the heavy Scottish brogue he used with his mother. The tails of his morning suit flapped against his thighs. It was a beautiful morning, but the wind was up. The Pacific Ocean churned 100 feet below.
“But look at it! It’s dropping into the wee beach, and right into the sea,” she said, pointing. The wind threatened to carry away her complex flowered church hat. The woman’s brown hair was streaked with a silver she refused to dye away, and her eyes twinkled excitedly in the same warm shade of brown as John’s. “I never thought I’d see the Pacific. What fun!”
Alex walked to them in a shocking pink suit. Her hair was back to being colored. For the wedding, it was a pale lavender.
“Like, I know, right? Me and Alfie hiked all the way down to the beach yesterday. My legs are burnin’, but it was worth it. Water’s not as inviting as it looks.” She hugged herself. When she stood by John, the color scheme he chose for his party was evident – he wore gray with a pink trim, and she wore pink with a gray trim.
“So, explain me again. How does it go that this young lady is, in fact, your best man?” She smiled kindly at Alex. Alex dared to put her arm around the woman’s shoulders.
“Yeah. How’d it happen, bruv?”
“I figure that a groom’s best man has to be his brother, or his absolute best mate. I don’t have a brother, and Alex is my best mate. It was an easy choice.”
She nodded, then held her hat close to her head as another gust buffeted them.
“I’m glad the reception’s in a place with a roof, and walls. This wind would blow the cake right out of my mouth,” she said. “Not it it would be the worst thing to happen.”
“Nonsense, Mrs. Helm! You look beautiful. I can tell which side of the family John gets his good looks,” Alex said, walking her further from the cliff.
“Away, girl! You dinnae need to fib,” she said, but she flushed with pleasure.
She looked over her shoulder and winked at John. He gave her a broad smile and walked back to the pavilion to wait for his bride.
Olivia and Maude flitted around her like fireflies, smoothing and tugging at small details.
Connie pulled at her long, hand-embroidered veil. “I think it’s too much for all this wind, but it’s so beautiful,” she said, running her fingers along the silky, sheer fabric and fingered the tiny opalescent beads sewn into the edges in a lacy pattern. With the traffic, it had a been a longer ride than expected to the airport, so she had time to tell the cab driver her story. She wasn’t usually one to bend the ear of a hack, but his face had been so bright and kind. She was so nervous and sad that she couldn’t help it.
When they arrived at the airport, he told her he’d seen thousands of men’s faces, and John’s face was easy to read. He loved her, and although she left, he would be soon to follow. As an afterthought, she gave him her website information since he was curious about her work.
When she’d announced her formal engagement, he’d gotten in contact, and said his wife, a master tailor, would like to make something for them both.
She thought it might be a pair of gloves, or just the veil. After John and Connie saw her portfolio, the whole wedding party wore her and her assistant’s creations.
“You look like a page ripped out of a victorian wedding magazine,” Maude said, and blushed. Olivia squeezed her hand, and Maude bent to give her a kiss. Olivia met Maude in the most improbable way – she helped her change her tire when it blew on the way to her parent’s house. Maude was straightforward, and kind, but also one of the best contractors in Bristol. She stood a full head shorter than Olivia, had a glossy cap of brown hair, and eyes so green it made her crave lime.
Connie’s heart was full. Olivia was happy. Alex was in art school, and happy. And she was getting married to the best human on Earth. Olivia adjusted her veil one last time and looked at her from over her shoulder.
“You ready to take the plunge?”
“Are they going to run into the ocean when they finish their vows?” Connie’s father said from the corner.
“Ha ha and heehee, papa,” she said, but she was smiling.
“I had a swim this morning. Brrr. The air is warm, but that water will put hair on your chest,” he said, standing and adjusting his suit. He wore the gray, but drew the line at the pink trim. It was too evocative for his personal taste.
“So many brides say they’re scared, but I’m not the least bit afraid. Is that crazy?” Connie said. She held a large bouquet of bright pink, purple, and white flowers.
“I wouldn’t know. I’m not married. Yet,” Olivia said pointedly. Maude put her arm around her and beamed. The tent trembled over their heads with a stiff breeze. “Whose idea again was it to marry here instead of a nice church, or one of the many stately homes down this coast?”
“John. We stopped her on our trip, and he was instantly smitten. I was almost jealous.”
“It’s a nice place. But why get married here?” Olivia said, pointing down. “There are some nice places just down the road.”
Connie chuckled. “John has a thing for water. When he suggested we marry outside, I couldn’t refuse him. I honestly don’t care where we marry anyway. Just as long as we do.”
“Silly, lovely man,” Olivia said, shaking her head.
“I have to say, the view’s way better than a church,” Maude said. “I wish you two the best.”
“Thank you,” Connie said, and gave her a hug.
“We’re going to the pavilion, darling. See you there.” She blew her a kiss, and her and Maude left, holding hands.
“You look beautiful,” her father said in Spanish. “My kind-hearted, sweet little girl.”
“Don’t talk like that. I’ll cry,” she said. He walked up to her. In her heels, she was just taller than him, since she’d inherited her height from her mother’s side of the family. He held her hand.
“I was very surprised when you told me about John,” he said carefully. “But I could hear such love in your voice. It’s a father’s dream, and his nightmare, because if the object of your affection proves untrue…”
“But that didn’t happen,” she said quickly.
“No, it did not. “I admire John. He sought me out, without fear, and spoke to me like a man about his intentions. I appreciated it, and best of all, I heard the love in his voice as well.”
“He only told me about that after the fact. When I said yes,” she said, looking at her engagement ring. It sparkled in canary yellow and white diamonds.
“He’s a smart man. He knew to consult me beforehand,’ he said.
“I love and respect you, but I don’t think I would’ve cared if you approved or not,” she said, pouting dramatically.
“That’s my fire-headed daughter,” he said, and laughed. “Stubborn, but about all the right things.” He referred to defying his wishes for her to be a lab rat, and not an artist. “You’ve made me very proud, little one.”
She hugged him tight. “I love you, daddy,” she said in Spanish.
Olivia came back. “It’s time.”
She looked at her father. “He’s waiting. Take me to my husband.”
Next Chapter
#That Woman Over There#you me and him#David Tennant#fan fiction#John + Connie#4 EVA#the one where they get married#one more chapter to go#I love them all so much#I'll just be over here having a real toast for fictional characters
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A Wolf’s Compassion
Hello I am Shane Daniels, I have wolf’s blood. I don’t really come from a pack, so I’m not really sure what or why I am the way I am, but my family said I could be something called a Vaugre. They aren’t wolves so their knowledge on the subject is limited, but they said it’s something like a werewolf or one of those native american shifters. Every once in awhile I get a little more wolfish than the average kid, but mostly I’m just like everyone else, or maybe I’d like to be. I don’t have many friends, but the ones I do have are pretty awesome. I’m thirteen, my hair gets pretty wild sometimes but mostly I keep it short...ish. My skins pretty dark so although I don’t really remember them I’m guessing my bio-parents were too...maybe. I guess I’m of average height for my age, whatever that means, and though I don’t mean to my eyes are typically gold in color, though if I concentrate I can sort of make them look honey colored or something. Most people don’t pay attention to them for too long, partly because something in me sort of forces their attention away but I also read somewhere that if people find something that’s too traumatic or causes too much stress, even if mundane, they’ll sort of just edit it out of their brains or something. I mean I know the eyes are disconcerting, but if anyone actually told me they could see a little too much of an inner animal in them I might wear glasses or something. So far, the number of complaints were few in number, which unfortunately was likely to do with fear, but there is a type of hierarchy to these things, rabbits eat the leaves larger rabbits with sharper teeth and better ability to hide eat the littler rabbits, then hawks or something eat them and so on and so forth until god eats everyone or something and poops out paradise.
My adopted mother, is an Enchantress, which means that even by conventional human standards she’d be pretty, but with the veil of her aura unsuppressed she’s more or less gorgeous. I’d say super model pretty but that’d be slightly misleading, you’d have to embrace somewhat murky or occasionally frowned upon ideas about pheromones, bestial adaptation around belief, sexy math, and something like hypnosis. From what she told me her people aren’t unlike the Sirens, or mermaids of old, though they typically don’t attract waywards sailors to their doom, not that they couldn’t. Enchanters draw a lot of power from their voices, and besides having an unusual capacity to comprehend languages, they are great singers and can more or less work miracles simply by speaking strongly or powerfully. With this said, you should sort of understand why saying they’re simply really pretty is a dangerous underestimation, most people would probably see them as something close, but just variant enough to the ideal of the perfect sexual or love companion. Someone that would in a manner of speaking improve their legacy and their present by impossible strides. Almost like those pictures of angels or roman gods, who don’t always match contemporary ideals of what is attractive but who meld seamlessly into the style of the picture. Oh the first cavemen who chanced on their pleasing curves and soft flesh must of died, gone to heaven, and clawed his way back to earth because they were that much better.
My adopted mother’s name is Esme, Esmeralda Daniels if you want the whole thing. She has red hair a bit on the short side, it sort of stops around her ears, most people say its charming. She’s a bio-engineer, and works at one of the most prestiges facilities in the city, but more relevantly, in the country at least that’s what other people tell me. She has freckles and green eyes which are nearly as startling as my own, though most people are attracted by hers rather than repelled.
My mom is busy more often than she’d like to be though I will say even a couple of hours with her is pretty worthwhile, she always has the best stories and games. Still I suppose you could say she has cash to burn, so she spares not expenses when it comes to the safety of those she cares about. So our household has something like a bodyguard, or kill-maid, or something. Her name is Rachel, and she has dark skin, and hair of a similar coloring. She looks like she could pass for native american or south american or something, but mom said something about her being from one of the pacific islands or something. Rachel is one of The Hunters, a race or order or band or whatever of supernaturally skilled trackers and enders of quarry both mundane and otherworldly. Generally speaking their excellent martial artists, but their true extraordinary-ness lies in their miraculous capacity for tracking, trap making, and manipulation of people and circumstances to end their targets. They rarely settle and are seldom far from others of their kind unless on a pilgrimage or responding to some natural, or unnatural disaster. With this said, it was strange that Rachel had agreed to settle for babysitting on an Enchantresses payroll, but when I pressed Esme about it, she said that Rachel owed her. It’s weird that Rachel owed her but she was the one getting paid, but the supernatural rarely makes conventional sense.
I’ve only really seen Rachel’s hunter, gene, aura, magic, call it what you want, activate a couple of times, but it was always pretty dazzling and vaguely terrifying. She sort of ignites and these markings sort of flash around her and the space near her like some type of armor, except the markings look alive, like souls or something. Rachels always very fast, very strong, and very smart, but something about her hunter’s, or huntress’s activation just pushes that from the interesting into the almost impossible. You know how when you’re playing skeeball at an arcade or something, and you keep almost hitting the hundred pointer but it just keeps rolling away. Well it’s that extra nudge of biomechanical harmony that is the difference between you going home with a measly tail of tickets and a whole damn roll of them. Rachel’s activation was sort of like that, maybe she was just a tad stronger, a tad faster, a tad smarter, but it was that extra push, paired with an ability to shut out all the nonsense of the world to really harmonize those abilities as if they were more important than breathing which sort of accelerated her into almost unstoppable goddess of the hunt mode. To really bring it home, it’s like her critical chance and critical damage modifiers were maxed temporarily but effectively maxxed out.
I’ll admit, being what many might call a pseudo animal, I was a little on edge when my mother explained that my babysitter was actually an otherworldly beast killer. She explained that although some hunters killed supernatural creatures indiscriminately there were also those who only culled the evil or too dangerous or too stupid to be allowed to live. Rachel was of the latter variety, mostly. The important part of that conversation was that she avoided the harm of children whenever possible. There was some tension between us at first, with Rachel being, rigid, generally abrasive, and vaguely condescending, and me being, a little more often than usual I might add, a wolf. Eventually, after both of our non human internal defense systems found a means to communicate without threat of death, we became pretty good friends; as things were, hunter’s need to burn off energy nearly as much as vaugre do, and Rachel and I love going for runs. Rachel’s pretty attractive, I mean not your conventional knockout, but she was fit, and capable, and it was hard not to find a certain appeal after watching those tender almost perfect loping strides of hers. Seeing all that muscle and dark flesh gyrating at inhuman harmonies, ay dios mio.
I have a sorta sister, sorta because she’s Esme’s daughter which makes her my adopted sister, but also because she’s a major bitch. I mean I like her, enough to preserve her existence, and I know that if I kill her I should make it look like an accident, so that others don’t have to suffer more, she’d appreciate that in her twilight years of the afterlife. Diana, is an enchantress like Esme, but although they share the same powers and skills, my sorta sister does not have the savy or experience her mother to know how or why to utilize them to their fullest potential. So mostly she just wastes them on getting compliments from boys or making them give her stuff. She’s attractive, as in otherworldly did we just stumble on eve herself attractive, but that’s sort of par for the course for enchantresses who were coming into their abilities. Diana is fifteen but I’m pretty sure she could convince most of the men in the city to abandoned their wives or at least forget them for a while. She wouldn’t even need her voice to do it, her presence was typically enough to give most people pause. She wasn’t a couch potato, but she didn’t exactly enjoy Rachel and I’s somewhat extreme regimen for outdoor jogging, she preferred hiking, which required a little more vigilance and caution, but most importantly slow and steady trekking. She wears glasses but I have no idea if she actually needs them or just think they make her look cute or something. She has electric blue eyes, long dark hair which is more straight than not, and a viking woman’s disposition about nearly everything. Her and Esme don’t always get along, well rarely if ever get along, but it wasn’t always like that. In wolf packs as the pups come of age there is sort of a natural bio-social event which takes place; the more mature wolves sort of have to rearrange the structure slightly to make room for the pups without coddling them or ignoring their superiority if the latter is the case. What was happening with Esme and Diana did not seem entirely different, though I suppose you could say it was just all about growing up or mothers and daughters or some other less awesome example. Diana had a bad habit of blaming me for the growing schism between her and her mother, and I used to argue with her about it, but she’s pretty good at avoiding responsibility and hurting a person with the conventional or invisible things. So now I just go quiet, and a break or rearrange her stuff when she’s not looking.
Diana and I used to go to the same school but now she goes to high-school. I suppose Esme will send me with her after I graduate from middle school, which will happen at the end of the year, but to be honest, I’m not entirely chipper about having to deal with older, grosser, more emotionally unstable versions of the kids I already know. I don’t mind my current classmates but there’s definitely a distance between most of us. Humans always seem to tune into the least helpful frequencies when around an other-wordly creature even if they don’t know they’re around one. Either they put themselves in unnecessary danger, or the ones who would most likely help them in vaguely compromising positions. In short most have very weak or non existent defenses. My inner wolf has trouble tolerating inefficient use of energy, and general stupidity, to dangerous “I might start clawing people in the face” levels of intensity. So not surprisingly I have to be careful about the type of people I surround myself with.
As things are my core friend group consists of Chris, Bethany, and Edward. Chris and Bethany are twins and though people say boy and girl twins aren’t supposed to look the same these two look pretty similar, which was probably why Chris always cuts his hair short and Bethany tends to keep hers long. They have brown hair which occasionally looks like autumn leaves, and startling blue eyes like a glacier glowing in the moonlight, or arctic fires. They both wore glasses, Bethany’s were squared but Chris’s typically were circular, and their fashion sense was almost perversely similar. They said they didn’t mean to, and at first you started to doubt it, but then they’d reach for a door at the same time, or start finishing eachother’s sentences, or start juggling objects with one another without out speaking or looking at one another. It makes me less surprised at the suspicion people regarded twins with during the early stages of man’s civilization; they were some creepy bastards. Chris and Bethany are wizards, which means they do spells and stuff. The difference from witches, in general, being that most of their spells do not require the life energy of other creatures. They tried to explain it to me before but I’ll admit it’s hard to keep track of, their magic is more phantom like than a witch. Put another way “Wizards are more like dead people” they explained to me. It was a little wierd but that made it make a little more sense, wolves’ from what I could feel and had been told, weren’t unlike dead people themselves.
Edward is a Champion, and no that doesn’t mean people give him medals for being a unique snowflake. Champions as I’ve come to understand them, are sort of like knights but with more magical origins. Like with enchantresses and beauty Champions radiate competence, strength, inspiration to their friends, and fear to their enemies. Remember how I said hunters have this wierd activation armor thing, well I’ve seen something similar on Edward, except it’s almost always there, he just hides it a little. It’s like this golden cloak or suit of mail. If you touch him the wrong way it sort of zaps you, and even if it doesn’t down right repel you it makes his skin feel about as hard as stone, not unlike my skin when my wolf is raging or the moon is full. Edward has wild red hair which runs on the shaggy side down to his shoulders. His eyes are blue but more like the morning sky than the twins’. He hides how much he likes to really cut loose and play, his parents are all about discipline and nobility, but whenever there's a good game of kickball or a playground brawl brewing he’s all but bounding towards it.
My friends’ parents are otherworldly like them but that doesn’t mean they’re best buds with Esme or each other. They all sort of know one another but the bridging of boundaries isn’t always so easy for adults, too much learned hate and survivalist’s reservation. Oh well, if we were all exactly like the ones who raised us, things probably wouldn’t change.
Speaking of change we got a new classmate, her name is Hannah. She’s wolf blooded like me. I knew something was off about her when she walked into the classroom I just couldn’t tell what it was. Then I sniffed her, and I knew almost instantaneously.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Hannah said to me.
“I do too, you smell like wolf, like me but different, girly and like you-ish or something.” I told her.
“Look I came here to stay away from trouble, my aunt doesn’t want me hanging out with dangerous people and other wolves are dangerous.” Hannah said.
“So you admit it. Well, you won’t have to worry about that too much, not too many wolves around here, so far I was the only one as far as I know, until you showed up.” I said.
“Well fine, leave me alone then.” Hannah said.
“What, no that’s dumb, there’s safety in numbers.” I said
“Didn’t you just here me, i’m not supposed to be around other wolves.” Hannah said.
“Yeah but I’ve never been in a pack or seen another...well my mom calls them Vaugre. So I’m sort of just like a really wierd special person. Your aunt didn’t say anything about hanging out with them right?” I said.
“Vaugre? If heard aunty use that term before, umm… I guess you have a point. We should spit on it.” Hannah said. She spit into her hand and held it out for him.
“Mom says witches use spit and stuff for magic.” I said.
“I’m not a witch and neither is my aunty. We could arm wrestle instead, I’ll use my other hand.” Hannah said. I thought about it for a second and spit into my hand, clasping her’s tight.
“Nah, this is fine. Want to hang out with us at recess.” I said nodding to my friends.
“Yeah that sounds fun.” Hannah said.
Hannah is blonde, with long curly hair like a horses mane or something. She is shrewd and inquisitive though not in a bad way, just in like a very thorough pointed way. She must get that from her aunt, who is a new detective in the city. She has freckles and blue eyes that get even brighter and bluer the closer her wolf is to the surface. Her body always seems to be hot like mine, something about our metabolism or how our blood boils or something. We aren’t as bad as Chris and Bethany but for one reason or another we’re pretty in tune with each other’s feelings and actions. She said it had something to do with our wolves and the need for pack, and that makes sense. In short sometimes we’re like two peas in a pod, a great team, and other times we’re nearly about to kill each other, more or less arguing about who came up with an Idea first, or who did more work than the other. Still that’s pretty fun too, she really knows how to wrestle. I try not to be too rough with Chris because his body’s not as durable as mine, Edward is interesting to fight, but something’s off about how my wolf gets when our jostling too and fro gets a little too deadly. Wrestling with Hannah seems just right, our wolves know just how to bite or scratch or pin the other, they get to run freely as beasts. I’m not sure if other kids find her pretty, but to me she always seems too wolfish to limit to more human definitions of appeal. Sometimes she looks like a scion of wildness, or temptation in the form of divine art; my attraction almost magnetic. Other times she looked like a hell beast coming for my soul, though even then I felt a certain heated stirring in my stomach which made me kind of want to lick her face or something.
Having another wolf around made me a bit bold, and so I decided to convince her into going to talk to a vampire. Alysha Shabazz, was one of the local baddies in the neighborhood. Most people of the otherworld were questionable to say the least when it came to their inhuman activities, but many adhered to certain ideas of heroism, lesser badness, or some type of grey straddling. Alysha Shabazz was more or less an evil woman. I rarely saw her as most people tried to stay out of her way, lest they become her next meal, and she didn’t seem to have much interest in the city folk. She seemed to be of indian descent, eastern hemisphere, and most of her beautiful cinnamon skin and luscious curves were wrapped up in scarves and fabrics. Her hair was supposedly very long and pleasing to the eye but I’d only seen it once, tied in a braid down her back. She’d been stalking some human couple that night. Most people wouldn’t have noticed her, but my inner wolf had a way of spotting other predators. We didn’t see her make the kill, or if she fed on them at all, but we also didn’t get in her way. Law of the jungle, stay smart, stay strong, and you survive long enough to change what you need to. Getting in the way of a blood lusting vampire was not smart. She did give me cookies once, and like pet me around the ears, once as a human the other time when I was more wolfish. Most people mistake me for a dog or like a savage looking boy when the inner beast is a little more outer but Alysha seemed to have no trouble spotting the difference. She even called me by name though it was low enough to escape human detection. She seemed sweet, and dangerous. Most people left her alone because, one, she kept worser baddies at bay, and two fighting a powerful vampire tended to be a quick path to a painful slow death.
Anyway Hannah was slow to get on board, but I could see her wolf having trouble letting me go on my own, and her slippery slide into rebelliousness seemed to be igniting into a very endearing set of habits. Long story short, we sort of broke into Alysha’s house. We were pretty careful about it, Hannah’s very good at picking locks and I made sure no one saw us go in. We snooped around, well sniffed and listened around. It was simple but cozy as far as houses go, and there was a lot of carpet which does wonders for our paws, not that we wolfed out their, it was just interesting to note. We did spend a couple of moments rolling around on the rugs though, it was just so comfortable and it scratched all the right places, but our arrogance got the better of us, because that was when the despicable Alysha descended upon us. Well it was more like she opened the door, groceries in hand to two neighborhood delinquents. That was it, I thought to myself, this...is the end. Then she made us dinner and soup and told us stories and jokes and stuff, she’s a very nice lady and I’m not just saying that because the upper folds of her dress kept sliding apart so certain lucious rounded fleshy parts became more visible...or because her food was gourmet status. Hannah told me she was worried Alysha might have put her blood in it or something, but I didn’t care it would have been the most delicious blood i’d ever tasted. Apparently Alysha had been a member of the local clan of Enchantresses, but like way way back in the day, like a couple of centuries ago. Which means she like knew Esme’s ancestors or something. She like fell in love with some weird dude, or needed to save her sister or something and so she became a vampire to be with him...or to be powerful enough to like help someone or something. It was all very riveting when she told us, I just can’t remember word for word, some tales are like that. Anyway her Enchantress abilities didn’t leave her like some people in her clan said they would, though they were altered slightly. She gave me a kiss on the head before rubbing my hair and giving me a hug. She gave Hannah a strong handshake and a salute and sent us both on our way. It was awesome.
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Halfway there - or how to choose a better tattoo artist next time
A few months ago, I asked around for recommendations for artists, and was pointed towards Nastia Zlotin, who currently works out of Signs and Wonders in Berlin. Her tattoos were so bold and colourful, the shapes so exquisite - I was really excited, and got in touch soon after to ask if she'd be interested in working with me on a project I'd had in mind for many years: two snakes draped over my shoulders.
She seemed a bit confused by the premise at first, but once I explained more she said she was interested. She gave me a date for an appointment, and asked me to come in the day before for a consultation. I was on a break from work at the time, so this was perfect. She also asked me to pay a deposit, and suggested PayPal, or cash in hand during the consultation. I said I would bring cash.
I got to the store on time for the consultation that Tuesday. The appointment was for the next day. There was a brothel right next door, but this is Berlin, so it's fairly normal I guess, and you don't get to pick your location. The studio itself was a bit strange. I'm used to tattoo studios being a riot of colours, or sometimes lavishly decorated, but Signs and Wonders is very dark and kind of drab, everything is painted dark grey. Inside the studio there were a lot of semi-identical Berlin-style tough guys, who were evidently the other artists and some of their clients. They were horsing around really loudly.
Nastia eventually turned up, somewhat late. We sat and discussed the tattoo, and it seemed we'd come to an understanding - I wanted the two snakes to be more naturalistic, like much of her works, but she recommended a blend of this with her signature triangles style, which sounded pretty cool. She asked me to show her my shoulders, where the tattoo was going to be, and congratulated me on how pale I was "Because you'll make a great canvas, haha". Slightly creepy but ok.
I came back he next day, and was asked to wait while Nastia finished up the design. I waited about 40 minutes to an hour for this. Eventually she called me in to do the stencilling and placement. It was at this stage that I saw the design. The general shape she chose was awesome, bold and swirling. I was a little shcked to see she'd coloured the snake heads entirely in black, however, with a strange design that was supposed to be reminiscent of snake scales but looked unfortunately close to, well, testicles. She told me the snake's eyes were going to be red. She also chose to give the snakes a very strange perspective, which made them look like 2-dimensional ribbons rather than cylinders. Snakes do now show their bellies when they curve around obstacles, but these snakes did. I figured she'd chosen this for artistic effect reasons, and she also made it clear she wanted to hurry up and get this done, and was not keen on discussing the design. At no point did she ask me if there any changes I wanted to make, it was up to me to interrupt her to ask for changes.
I reminded myself that I loved all her other work, and that she knew what she was doing, and perhaps she'd taken that design from a particular type of snake (although I specified I had green grass snakes in mind, who do not have this type of design on their heads). She told me in a flustered way that she had stayed up very late learning how to draw snakes, and she now had a cold, so she was going to wear a face mask for this session. I felt bad for making her stay up, but figured it was her business to decide, since she could easily have postponed the appointment.
Placement took a while and was expertly done, I really appreciated that she had an eye for symmetry. Her husband, who is also a tattoo artist, came over every so often to comment and suggest improvements. Since the design was on my shoulders, I had to have my top pulled down quite far, so I was pretty cold by the time the stencil was on, about an hour later.
I asked her if we could discuss the colours for a minute before we started, and she agreed. At this point the design had no colours in it save for the heads beng entirely black,which looked really odd - it was as if the artist had made a mistake in that area and tried to cover it. It also looked more like the cover of a heavy metal album than the whimsical, colourful animals in her portfolio.
I told her I did not want any black in that area, she said it was for contrast. Given my skin is very pale in that area, this didn't make sense to me - any colour would contrast in this area, even pale grey. I clearly said that I did not want any black on the heads, since they were the first thing people would see. I suggested using dark green or dark purple instead. She agreed purple would work, and I felt reassured.
The first sessions went well, and we managed to finish the outline in that time, which looked fabulous. At several points throughout though, the guys in the studio came over to stare at my other modifications (I have several scarification pieces), which felt quite intimidating since I was lying down and had my top pulled quite far down, they were standing, and I was trapped and could not move, or protest without making a fuss. Late in the afternoon as they were leaving, one of the guys made a joke about how "you can tattoo her naked now we're leaving, hur hur" which made me feel pretty uncomfortable.
The colouring session was booked for a month in the future. I was super excited, because I had seen so much of her work, loved it all, and felt that it would be nothing short of awesome.
When I got there and we'd prepped, she showed me a colour pallette on her phone that had warm greens, and khakis, which I okayed. These were to be the colours for the back. For the front, I reiterated that I wanted purple, and she agreed once more. I brought up the eye colour, and again she suggested red. It still confuses me why she wanted to take these beautiful snakes, and give them black heads with red eyes - I came to see her for her gorgeous use of bright colours, and not to have demon snakes tattooed on me. We discussed this and agreed that yellow or orange eyes would be good.
This session was pretty gruelling - long, and painful. I am pretty good at handling pain over several hours, I did feel pretty spacey after a while though, from the endorphins. Not dizzy or unwell though, so we figured it was fine to carry on. Nastia seemed very intent on finishing the piece that day, even though the rate of progress was slow, and made slower by the fact she works colour in layers in some areas, rather than pre-mixing the shae she's after. I would have been pretty happy to quit after the back was done, but she said she really wanted to try and finish today, and I seemed to be doing ok.
So I put my headphones back in to block out the screechy metal that was playing, lay back down on the table, and tried to relax and get through this. At one point towards the end, I was getting pretty uncomfortable since we were about 5 hours in, and I was feeling the pain more. I asked for a break, but she told me she wanted to finish the front, and it would be 20 more minutes. I was pretty shocked she wouldn't let me up for a 3 minute break, since, well... I was the one feeling the pain, and I think this showed in my face, since she okayed the break after that.
She finished the left side of the front in a hurry, at that point it was clear she just wanted to get this over and done with and me out of the door. Once she'd cleaned me up, I got to go and look at the tattoo, and was immediately perplexed, because the colours looked extremely dark and muddy, and poorly matched. She told me that the colours would brighten over the next few days as they healed. I was exhausted from 5 hours of pain, so I hoped for the best, handed over a wad of cash, and left.
Over the next couple of days it became very clear that the colours were not going to fade or brighten, and that they were actually very mistmatched. The back of the tattoo looks very coherent and well thought through, the front looks like she was wearing coloured glasses when doing it. I was very shocked and dismayed by this, and even more when I saw that on the snake's head, there was a huge chunk of solid, pure black. The snake looked weird compared with its linework twin, the latter so graceful and full of life, the "finished" snake looked like a bad colouring book accident. And I knew there would be no way to tattoo over that black. Where I had hoped for shades of green and purple, she put in solid black, faded neon yellow, rusty burgundy, some small bits of purple, and dark grey.
I emailed her a couple of days later, asking if she intended to rework the colours, and stating politely that I was very disappointed she used black, and after I specifically asked her not to. She replied and told me that the black was "always supposed to be there", and that the colours were done, and if they looked flat "that's just the style". I had hoped she would offer to go over them again to make them more coherant, so this was a blow. I remembered how we clearly discussed the colours, and how I asked for purple, and no black. And how she had gone right ahead and made a decision for me, explicitly against my consent. I remembered how she had told me I couldn't stop to take a break because she wanted to finish. I thought about her defensive words in the email after I expressed doubts, and I realised I did not want to give her another chance to make this tattoo even worse.
I sent her an email asking if she's be willing to refund my deposit, since I would not be going back for a final appointment, and the money equivalent to the time she spent on the front of the tattoo, the part which made no sense. She refused and asked me to come in for a consultation. Given she had still not acknowledged that she had done anything wrong, it was clear that there was no point going in for a consultation during which she would just tell me repeatedly that there was no problem, and ask me to entrust my skin to her once again.
Looking back, I wonder why she couldn't have sketeched out the colours in advance, like she did for the back? This would have cut out the risk factor, and made everyone happy. She seemed so rushed all the time, I figured she just hadn't had time, and I decided the right thing to do was trust her.
In retrospect, I wish that I had pushed for her to draw a colour pallette in advance for the front, like she did for the back - she made no space for my input at any point though, and met my comments with resistance and impatience. And her other tattoos looked so good, I figured she knew what she was doing. Looking back, these are huge red flags. All the tattoo artists I've worked with up until now actually invited comments and feedback on every aspect of the tattoo, and as a result I am extremely happy with all of my work. It was a collaboration, where I was a participant. With Nastia it felt more like I was an unusually noisy canvas with a wallet, and she just wished I would shut up and be painted quietly.
I explained this, and she agreed to refund the money. At this point I was scared to go to the studio alone, since she'd been so aggressive and defensive in her emails, and in any case it was not an option: this month is an extremely busy time at work, and I cannot take time off without negative consequences. I offered her the choice of PayPalling me the money, which should be fine since she originally asked me to pay the deposit that way, or to have my husband come by to pick it up, since he gets off earlier than me. She had met him in person before, and I was willing to provide identification documents and a signed letter receipt if asked.
She refused and insisted again I come to the studio, having still not admitted to any responsibility for tattooing the wrong colours on me. At this point it was clear that she had no intention of giving me the money back, and that she was using it to lure me to the studio, where she could intimidate me into god knows what. I thought about explaining to my manager that I needed to take time off work to go and stand in a dark studio with 5 large guys standing around so Nastia could tell me to my face that she thought I was crazy, and decided enough was enough.
I posted several reviews for her work online, stating what had happened. I did this in the hopes that it might help someone else to avoid this same painful situation. Being stuck with a tattoo you did not ask for, when the artist tells you it's your problem, and which will need a lot of repairing... Is a very horrible feeling whcih I wish on no-one.
Nastia subsequently sent friends to insult me on my Facebook page, and posted carefully chosen screenshots of our email exchange, which showed my PayPal details and email address clearly. Given this behaviour, I am very glad I never took the risk of going to the shop, and it's even clearer that she never intended to give the money back, but was willing to resort to anything to intimidate me.
Please choose your artists carefully, and if they dismiss you at any point, RUN! At the end of the day it's your body, and you are the one who will wear this tattoo for a lifetime.
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