#and let's not even start on when Naomi had to join forces with B | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

moro-nokimi · 4 years ago

Text

March 9, 2010

AN:

TW: Joke about alcohol, death of a loved one, guns, pregnancy, vomiting to be safe, crimes against children.

I got my timeline all fucked up, sorry for that. You'd think that I'd be able to keep track of all that, considering that Raye and Naomi would be the same age as my mother... Whoops.

Yes, they are that couple where Everyone Can See It. See my post about Umi Ga Kikoeru vs. this fic and the relationship dynamic.

ffn.online

Smirnov whistled. “What are you wearing, Misora? Come on, it’s March, and you’re wearing leather?”

“It’s my bike clothes. Give me a moment before you talk my ear off,” Naomi replied. She was surprised that the lack of caffeine and sleep had left her semi-coherent.

“You own a bike?” Sheridan said. “Sounds like you’re more of a rebel than we thought.”

“It’s not rebelling to own a motorcycle, Sheridan. What are you doing in here anyways, Smirnov? Need a hangover remedy?”

“Ha ha, Misora. No, check your work email.”

“If it’s a joke, I’m asking to be reassigned.” She pulled off her jacket and reached for her laptop, then opened her work email.

“Agents Misora, Sheridan, and Smirnov:

You all are being recalled to Washington D.C. I expect to see Agent Misora in the briefing room at 10am sharp on March 12. Plane tickets are being mailed as of now.

Best wishes, Director Mason”

She whistled. “For whatever reason we’re being recalled, it’s probably confidential.” She scrolled down. “It takes an hour to get from here to Narita, light traffic at best. It’s probably best that we get going in an hour.”

“But what would he want with you alone?” Sheridan asked.

“Beats me. But right now, I think we should just get packing and all that.”

“Nope, just you,” Smirnov said. “My stuff’s ready to go.”

“Good to hear. I’ll be a bit. Grab me some breakfast while you’re down there, will you?”

“Sure.”

⁂

“So, who has any ideas as to what Mason’s thinking?” Sheridan asked as they boarded. Naomi hit her on the forearm. “Keep quiet. For all they know, we’re just a bunch of tourists visiting. We can discuss this later.”

“It’s technically later right now,” Smirnov said. “So, anyways--hey!”

“Pay attention to what I said. If someone who has access to Kira knows that the FBI is--was--in Japan, then all of us are at risk. Which means the both of you need to shut up until we’re in the car with Mason.”

“I was only joking around! You didn’t have to hit me that hard!”

“Even a joke can get someone hurt. The both of you should know better by now.”

“All right, all right.” Smirnov huffed.

Naomi Misora has never had the habit of sleeping on flights. As her colleagues dozed, she stayed wide awake.

Sometimes, I wonder what would’ve happened if we hadn’t met, she thought.

“Naomi, please, don’t you want to start a family someday?” Audrey said.

“Sure, but on my own time. I’m not unfulfilled--I’ve got a great job,” Naomi replied.

“But no boyfriend.”

“Oh, look at that, I’m choosing not to date a man, the world is ending. I’ve got nothing to lose by not dating.”

“You can say that when you’re 40 and don’t have any kids.”

“More reason to spoil yours, right?”

“Do I really need that much help, Director? The both of us know that I’m perfectly good at my job alone,” Naomi contested.

“Sure, but you’re lacking in base knowledge of firearms--which Agent Penber has,” Director Mason said.

“While that’s nice, Director Mason, I don’t need the help.”

“You can say that when you can’t ID the gun or caliber at a crime scene,” Raye said. They were friends in the academy, but apparently the fact he knew he was useful had inflated his ego to the size of Jupiter.

And there she was, at the stalemate. Either she accepted the help and continued on her job, or she continued to go the route of arrogance and end up crawling back to him. Fine.

“Fine,” she said, jerking her head outside of the Director’s office door. “Come on, jagoff, I’ll show you the ropes.”

“I’m not a rookie. I joined when I was 23,” he said, as she walked him to the unit’s office.

“I'm aware of that, you dork. You haven’t worked in this unit, so you’re a rookie. Jesus, you're 24 right?”

“25 in a month. Shouldn't you know this?”

“It's been a while, go easy. And it's nice to know.” She stopped at her desk and pulled up photos from the latest crime scene--exhibit B showed at least a clip of bullets. “Show me what you know.”

“Excuse me?” he said, both eyebrows raised.

“I know you're a good agent, but I don't know about you as a firearms specialist.”

He narrowed his eyes and leaned over the desk, clicking through to the body and then back to exhibit B. “That’s at least a clip of a 10 millimeter Auto.”

“Stats?”

“Six inch barrel, an average of 546 foot-pounds per square inch of energy. Velocity. This cartridge was used in the Miami shootout seven--dammit, eight--years ago. After that, the FBI issued new cartridges--this one--to each agent in Hostage Rescue and Special Weapons and Tactics teams.”

“So you could easily say that this person has connections to the FBI. At least, these specific branches.”

“Mhm. Against something like a .40 Smith and Wesson, the .40 has better recoil, and it’s better for both civilian and law enforcement use. Not for the 10 millimeter, though.” He stood straight. “What's that tell you?”

“I think you’ve given us a new lead. Don’t go letting that get to your head, though.”

“You’re letting it go to your head,” she said.

“I am not!” Raye replied. “Okay, maybe a little, but still.”

“Either way, it’s going to your head. Call in the interrogation team for me, I’m gonna go grab lunch.”

“Hey! I’m not your errand boy!”

“Sure, but you’re still doing your job. I’ll be back in five minutes.”

“I better get something,” he said.

“I’ll see about that. You're not very imposing, you know.”

She returned five minutes later indeed. “So, what’s going on right now?”

“He did actually have a connection to the FBI--cousin, I think. Poor dude’s probably agonizing over it. Where’s my food?”

“In the breakroom. You can tell me more when you get back.”

“You could’ve at least brought it back.”

“I already tried, but I couldn't balance anything for shit. And I could eat a whole person.”

He sighed through his nose. “Dahmer. I’ll be back.”

She shook her head. "The one time my coffee takes precedence and you compare me to a serial killer."

"Oh, does it suck?" he asked. He smiled and she felt like she got punched in the chest.

She blinked as the plane landed. “Wake up, we just touched down,” she said.

Sheridan groaned. “Have you been awake this whole time? Dude.”

“It’s not like I haven’t stayed up over a day before. Wake up Smirnov for me while I grab our luggage.”

“I never pegged you for the guy who liked to cook,” Naomi said, leaning on the doorframe.

“My mom made sure,” Raye replied. “As for my dad, he just taught me the German and Russian stuff. And I’m a tad sick of takeout.”

“I can’t say I blame you for that. I gotta give a high five to your mom, though, you’re a stubborn bastard.”

“Hey! First of all,” he said, pointing the tongs like a weapon, “I took to it rather nicely. And second of all, I resent that statement.”

“You can take it. What are you making anyways?”

“Spaghetti. Not what you expected, hm?”

“Not really.”

“I won’t introduce you to the German and Russian stuff yet. Kinda heavy, if you catch my drift. Our favorite food is potato. Wait, no it isn’t. Either way. Do you wanna help?”

“Nah, I’m good.” She hopped up onto the counter anyways. "But tell me you can make Japanese."

“Oh, so you’ll stay around and potentially get in the way but not help? Tch. I see how it is. And of course I can, what kinda mother do you take mine to be?”

“Hey, I could’ve just left, but I decided to grace you with my presence. And I don't know her, dork.”

"Watch it, I might take that as flattery."

"Get a room already!" Suruga said.

"Shut up!" they shouted.

“Naomi?” Sheridan said, snapping her fingers inches from Naomi’s nose. “Dude.”

“Sorry, I spaced out for a second.” She pulled Sheridan’s luggage down and handed it to her, then Smirnov’s, and then her own.

“Yeah, lack of sleep does that to you.”

She inhaled. “Come on.”

⁂

“Glad to see you, Director,” Naomi said. “Is this a matter you can discuss as we ride to HQ?”

“And you as well, Misora. Unfortunately, I cannot. This is to stay confidential, between the people I summoned, so Sheridan and Smirnov cannot hear as well.”

“Understood.” The ride lapsed into silence. She said, “Is it related to Kira?”

“Yes.”

She settled into her seat, desperately trying to keep her eyes open until she got into her hotel room.

“I see some familiar faces,” Director Mason tried.

March 12, 2010

Naomi wiped her hands on her slacks as the door clicked closed. She could count at least ten people.

Immediately, whispers started.

“No, kid, he doesn’t mean you,” a blonde woman said to her colleague. She rolled her eyes.

“The Bureau handed me over to the Agency, you know,” her colleague replied. “And he knows my dad. Of course he means me and a handful of other people.”

“Sometimes, I wish I didn’t know your tragic backstory.”

Mason cleared his throat and stepped aside to reveal…

A teenager. Playing with robots.

“This is N. He’s L’s successor. The both of us hand selected all of you for your respective skills, from both the CIA and FBI. This is the organisation known as the Special Provision for Kira.”

“And what if we don’t believe that?” one man said, crossing his arms.

“Tucker,” Naomi said, “don’t be stupid. What reason would Mason have to lie about that? Use your head.”

“After the original L died, he was replaced,” the teenager said. “The L that we all know of is a front put up by the Japanese Task Force.”

I wish I could be surprised, she thought. Their styles are too different.

“Fine, fine, I believe you,” Tucker said.

She shook her head.

“As you were saying, N?” she said.

“Thank you. As you all know, the Kira case first appeared in 2003--six years ago. I trust that you all know the basics of how Kira first appeared and what his MO was.” N pulled up his--Gundam?--transformer and using it as a puppet, and said, “But, as the case progressed, Kira had went on a two week hiatus. Then, all of a sudden, it was white collar criminals that were being killed in addition to the typical criminals. The MO had changed.”

“So then the weapon changed hands,” Naomi said.

“Correct. Then, after roughly five months, Kyosuke Higuchi--the Kira behind the crimes--had dropped dead after a car chase that brought down even my predecessor, who was famous for having never shown his face. The killings stop for one week. Then, they pick up again. The MO had changed--back to the original MO, but then murdering bank robbers and the like. The weapon had changed hands again.

“The day after the killings resumed, my predecessor had died, and was replaced by the Japanese Task Force, who did not want to cause alarm.”

“So can we assume that Kira had accomplices?” the blonde woman asked.

“Indeed. If you all remember, there was the Sakura TV incident.”

“What happened?” McEnroe asked.

“The Second Kira had made a broadcast on Sakura TV, which is known to be your typical yellow journalism hotspot in Japan,” Naomi informed him. “She held the entire station hostage, and called out to the original Kira.”

“She?”

“Women’s speech patterns vary from men’s. I don’t remember how, but it’s rather different. Where do we go from here, N?”

“That’s a good question, Naomi Misora. From here, we’ll be moving to headquarters in New York, downtown Manhattan. I’ll probably get into contact with the Japanese Task Force, and then we can share information back and forth.”

Somehow, she didn’t think that he was telling them the whole thing.

“Meeting adjourned,” Mason said.

Sheridan and Smirnov were waiting outside the door, and ambushed her just as soon as she got out.

“So, what was all that about?” Smirnov asked, one arm around her shoulder.

“Get off of me,” she said. “It’s confidential for a reason.”

“Aw, come on! It’s not as if you’re a civilian.”

“It’s still confidential, Smirnov. I’ll hear none of it.” She ducked under Smirnov and Sheridan, and said, “I’m going to ask the Director about possible arrangements for my apartment and… other things.”

“Of course. Don’t keep us waiting!” Sheridan called.

She scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Director, a word?”

“Of course,” Director Mason said.

“I’m going to have some issues moving my things across country. See, my apartment is in Los Angeles--my--” she swallowed and forced herself to say it, “Raye’s brother is currently staying there, and I need a couple days to transfer the lease and move all of my things out, as well as make arrangements for therapy and the like.”

“Take as much time as you need. The building won’t officially be finished for another couple months. September, at least.”

“Oh, that’s later than I thought. Well then. Thank you for answering. I’m going to go and arrange a flight.”

She walked out of the building, and narrowed her eyes at Dunleavy asking a civilian for her phone. She made note of it and climbed into her car. She’d barely buckled when she almost backed into someone.

“You know, it’s usually considered good form to check your mirrors,” the blonde woman from earlier said.

“Sorry about that. I haven’t had much sleep,” Naomi said, after pausing for a second. Wow, she is… really pretty.

“Mhm." Halle nodded. "I look forward to it. You’re a legend.” Halle smiled.

She leaned onto the wheel and said, “I don’t know about legend. Though, I don’t think this organization needs one.”

Well done, Naomi, already venting to a woman you don’t know. Scratch that, barely know.

“You’re not known as one for no reason, Misora. I’ll see you around.”

Naomi nodded, and made sure to check her mirrors before backing out this time. She fell face first onto her hotel bed with a sigh.

“Totally blew that,” she muttered, peeling off her jacket. Her phone buzzed. “What’s up, Adrian?”

“Nothing much. Sorry that it’s taken me so long to call. I’d wish you a happy late birthday, but…”

“It’s bad luck. I know the superstition. Sorry, you were saying?”

“Anyways, I just wanted to ask, since this apartment’s lease is coming up, are you going to renew it?”

She swore. “When is that?”

“The 27th.”

“Gotcha. I’m going to renew it. By the way, you and your wife are going to need to move out sometime--I’m heading back to LA. I can stay with your parents for a while, but I’ll need to get back into my apartment before I lose my mind.”

“Naomi! Why do you never tell us these things…”

“I’m in DC right now, actually. I hadn’t learned that I was going to be coming back to DC until the ninth, so I couldn’t have told you and your family.”

“That’s fair. And confidentiality laws. Anyways, when are you going to head back here?”

“A day or so.”

“That’s not a lot of time to pack.”

“You won’t have to, not for a while. I’ll transfer the lease over before I leave, and then you and your wife will officially be renting it, not me. That’s when I have to move to New York.”

Adrian whistled. “You sure do move around a lot. Though, I remember Raye did that too. Comes with the job, I suppose.”

“Yeah,” she said. Somehow, it didn’t hurt as much when he says it.

“Where in New York, out of curiosity?”

“The Big Apple, actually.”

“You’re shitting me.”

“I am not. How’s your wife doing?”

“She’s all right. End of the seventh month--officially at 28 weeks, now. Are you planning on being the gay, spinster aunt?”

“Bye, Adrian.”

⁂

“I’m sorry mom and dad couldn’t make it. They’d love to see you,” Michael said. Naomi climbed into the car. “And, of course, Adrian and Laney are in the same boat.”

“What’s going on with Laney?”

“Morning sickness is back and worse than ever.”

She winced, though she had yet to experience that. All plans of it had went out the window when he died. She pursed her lips and forced all thought of Raye from her mind.

“Yeah, after her bout with HG the first time… Anyways, I heard you had to move to the Big Apple for work. Tell us how it is.”

“Providing I can get a chance alone, ha.”

“Trying to remain busy?”

“Busy as I can get, yeah.”

He tapped out the beat to the lyrics of All Apologies. “It’s weird to realise that you’re outliving your oldest brother.”

She smiled wryly. “I was all of six weeks younger than him. It’s weird to think I wouldn’t have died six weeks after.”

Michael was silent. The only resemblance that him and Raye bore was the cut of their eyes and their stature. Beyond that, it was hard to tell they were brothers at all.

“Naomi… You are in counseling, right?”

“I’m not suicidal.”

Scratch that. Same personality.

“You’re depressed, at best.”

Raye scowled. “I don’t like this guy.”

“Then kick the damn door down and let’s be done with this,” Suruga replied.

Even a glance at his face, cool but barely restrained anger boiling beneath the surface, could’ve told you his thoughts. He braced himself against the brick a la Rorschach in The Watchmen, and with one quick, almost stablike jam of his heel by the doorknob, it burst wide open. The children in the house recoiled from the door.

“Oh, Jesus,” Gardner muttered. “Raye, go upstairs with Naomi and search the house.”

Gardner's knees popped as he knelt to talk to the kids. Naomi cast an anxious glance behind her and followed Raye up the stairs. He was muttering darkly under his breath, about what he’d do to the guy if he weren’t with the FBI.

“Don’t beat the dead horse here,” she muttered, not intending the pun of the perp’s display name on the dark web.

“It won’t be a dead horse until he’s dead or in prison forever,” he replied. The clack of the slide being jerked back punctuated the statement. If he did do something rash, she wasn't keen on holding him back.

“Yoohoo, Naomi? Anyone home?”

She blinked. “Sorry.”

“He is the worst kind of person, and I’m not even a little sorry about saying that. Making snuff films of children,” Raye muttered, rubbing his temples.

“Agreed. Children are the one thing you should have restraint on,” Suruga said. “But at least we're not talking, like. Fetal abduction.”

Always the optimist.

"Dude, don't. I'm already sick to my stomach." (And he was looking a little on the green side.) The ME passed him a can of flat ginger ale.

“It just, uh… reminded me of a joke I made. By accident.”

Michael shrugged. “All right.”

⁂

“So, how long are you going to be in California?” Nana asked.

“With the rent as is? Good luck,” Michael said.

“Oh, I know, it’s horrific. Luckily I make a decent amount of money each month, so I can make rent. And if I can’t, then I have lots of money in savings.”

“Or you could board with someone.”

She shrugged. “Maybe. Once we get to know each other I can ask. I wouldn’t feel comfortable encroaching on a stranger’s space.”

#tw alcohol #tw death of a loved one #tw guns #tw pregnancy #tw emetophobia #tw crimes against children #vd.writing #long post #the entirely italicized parts are flashbacks #naomi has a lot of those. i love one traumatized lady <3

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softspiderling · 6 years ago

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swanky fortune - part one | t.h.

Summary: When you clicked the ‘donate’ button on the GoFundMe page, you never would have expected to actually win. But are you going to take advantage of the opportunity or will you embarrass yourself in front of your celebrity crush?

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Song I listened to while writing: Speechless by Naomi Scott

Author’s Note: I literally wrote the last few paragraphs on the train when I came up with such a good idea, I am really proud of it. By the way, if anyone wants to be on a tag list, I can set one up, just send me a message and I will get right on it. ANYWAYS back to the matters at hand! I hope you like it!

Warnings: some swearing

Word Count: 2,4k

Masterlist

“What? What happened? Are you okay?!” your roommate Luisa asked as she slid into your room with her sock clad feet, a kitchen towel thrown over her shoulder and her hands dripping with foamy water from doing the dishes.

“I am flying to LA to go to the Far From Home premiere with Tom Holland!” You screeched in excitement and Luisa gave you a look as you jumped up and down excitedly, drying her hands off.

“Geez, I thought you hurt yourself or something,” she sighed, nonetheless, a smile tugged on the corner of her lips. She was happy for you, especially with the rough start of the year you’ve had, this was something you deserved.

“I don’t get your excitement, though,” she said, shrugging with her shoulders. “I mean, he’s cute, but he’s no Chris Evans,” Luisa pointed out and you groaned, slapping your flat palm against your forehead.

“Lu, just- be happy for me, okay?” you sighed and Luisa rolled her eyes at you, though the amusement was clear in her eyes.

“Fine, just for you,” she relented, placing her hands on your shoulders before the two of you jumped up and down squealing loudly.

“Okay, okay, enough squealing,” Luisa said and squeezed your shoulders, beaming at you.

“I am really happy for you, Y/N,” she started, before she furrowed her brows, her lips pressed together in a tight line

“But are you sure you’re not being scammed?”

“Oh my god, Luisa!”

After telling all your friends and family about the news, you finally calmed down a bit, your throat scratchy from all the squealing you’ve been doing. You felt a little bad for your neighbors, but this was an once in a life time event. You never were the one to be really lucky when it came to things like this. You kept thinking that this was a dream (though you weren’t going to say this out loud anymore, since Luisa kept pinching you to prove to you, that you were awake).

Finally, you sat back down to your desk, your studies long forgotten and grabbed your laptop to reply to Tom’s e-mail.

Hi Tom,

I feel very lucky to get the chance to go to the premiere with you, of course I accept the invitation. Please inform me of any further details. I look forward to meeting you and attending the premiere.

Best regards,

Y/N Y/L/N

You read over the few lines you had written, your fingers shaky, feeling anxious about your choice of words. This was your first real interaction with a celebrity and you didn’t want to screw it up. Then again, you weren’t even sure if you were actually mailing with Tom, it was quiet possible that this was his assistant you were talking to. Tom was quiet busy, based from all the pictures you’ve been seeing all over instagram,

You sighed and sent the email off before you exited from your mail account, forcing yourself to pull your focus back to your studies. With your upcoming trip to Los Angeles, you had to take a few days off of university and you couldn’t afford any more distractions. With a quiet groan, you pushed any thoughts about Tom and the upcoming premiere to the back of your head and concentrated on the words in front of you.

As time passed, and emails got more frequent between you and Tom, your excitement grew, just as much as your anxiety did. You were really looking forward to meeting your Tom and attending a fricking red carpet event, but you were also aware of the enormous pressure you would be under. There are going to be thousands of reporters and cameras, not to mention the millions of fans that were recording every little thing from the sidelines with their phones. But that is a price you were willing to pay to get to see Tom. At least that was what you were trying to tell yourself.

As the day of your departure neared, you stood in front of your unorganized closet, and your open, half filled suitcase next to it, contemplating on what you were going to bring with you to Los Angeles. You knew that you only had to pack for a couple of days but you had the urge to grab everything inside your closet and just haul it with you. You wanted to impress Tom and his friends and everyone you were going to meet, and you wanted to be prepared for anything.

You ran your hand through your hair in exasperation before diving into your closet, sorting out the clothes, starting two piles of clothes you considered bringing, and a pile with clothes you weren’t.

In the end you decided to pack some jeans, blouses, shirts and some dresses, tossing some sweats and your pajamas on top, before zipping one half of your suitcase shut. You were planning on going shopping in Los Angeles, hoping to put the 1000$ to good use, because you didn’t have anything red carpet worthy in your 0closet, and if it all came down to the worst, you had packed a black, simple but elegant dress.

You plopped down on your bed with a sigh and pulled your laptop close to scan over the email that was open on the screen.

Hi Y/N,

Can you believe that the big day is already so close? Exciting stuff, huh? Believe it or not, I am really nervous, too, so don’t worry about your nerves. When you get to LAX, a driver will be waiting for you at arrivals to pick you up an drive you to your hotel. We planned a dinner for the night of your arrival in LA and you are welcome to join us if you aren’t too exhausted from the flight (I do know a thing or two about jetlag). I hope you’re as stoked as I am for the premiere.

See you soon,

Tom.

You wished for the words to have been written by Tom, if you concentrated hard enough, you could even hear him say those words, you wish you could be a person who Tom took the time of his busy day to actually write you an email, but the more you thought about it, the more you were convinced that there was no way that it was Tom who was writing you. Even though the emails looked very personal and in character for him (though you weren’t sure if you could be an actual judge of that, since you actually have never met him before), but logically speaking, you were emailing with an assistant or agent. You were one of a million fans, and even though you won the ruffle to the premiere, what made you special enough for him to take the time to sit down and email with you back and forth?

You pursed your lips and shut your laptop, sliding it in its case and putting it in your backpack, laying down in your bed.

All your thoughts and doubts about the premiere had started to grow bigger and bigger and you pressed your face in your pillow, before screaming into it, the soft filling of the pillow dampening your scream.

“You okay?” you heard a voice ask and you lifted your head to look at Luisa who was standing in the doorway; you couldn’t quiet place the face she was making, you think it was a mixture between amusement and worry.

“Yeah,” you muttered, rubbing your face with your hands. “I’m just nervous,” you told her and she joined you on your bed, patting your shoulder consolingly.

“I know it’s stupid, but I want him to like me and- I don’t know, remember me, I guess? I don’t just want to be another fan he forgets as soon as I leave. And you know how I can get when my expectations are so high, I just,” you mimiced an explosion with your hands.

“Boom.”

While Luisa didn’t share your admiration for Tom, she knew that you could be very self-destructive, especially when you were happy. According to you, it wasn’t possible to get everything you’ve ever hoped for and be happy. When you were dating your ex-boyfriend, you kept questioning your happiness, kept looking for errors and faults that weren’t there; and when you finally let yourself fall, he wasn’t there to catch you.

That experience left you vulnerable and raw, and the worst thing about it was, that you were blaming yourself, instead of the boy who broke your heart. Saying, that you should have known your happiness wasn’t going to last, blaming yourself for falling. Ever since then, you’ve always kept a certain distance to happiness. Not in the sense of never doing things that made you happy, but always acting cautiously. You never risked anything, but you were grateful and content with what you’ve got. Other people liked to say ‘no risk, no fun’, but when you were always moving along the lines of ‘no risk, no pain’.

And now this? This was a big ass risk.

“Maybe I should just cancel. I mean, people always say to never meet your heroes, right?” you asked nervously and Luisa swatted the back of your head.

“No way you’re cancelling on Tom Holland. I would never forgive you,” she warned you and you snorted, rolling your eyes.

“Why would you never forgive me? You don’t even like him.”

“You’re right I don’t. But I like you. And right now, you’re suggesting throwing something away that is going to make you so happy, ecstatic even. Meeting your celebrity crush? Hello? I get that you’re nervous, but everything’s going to be fine, I promise,” Luisa said gently and you puckered your lips as you exhaled slowly.

“Just be yourself.”

“Be myself? Oh wow, that’s a disaster waiting to happen,” you snorted and your roommate chuckled, shrugging with her shoulders.

“Perhaps so, but maybe he likes disasters,” Luisa teased and got up.

“Now come on, let’s go get some pizza. This is our last roomie night before you’re whisked away by some British boy.”

“Ugh, stop calling him that,” you complained with a grin and got up, pulling Luisa with you. ”What? It’s true! He is a boy! Now, Chris Hemsworth on the other hand…” she said and wiggled with her eyebrows suggestively, making you groan with laughter as you two exited your bedroom.

“All passengers from flight 21 to LA: Boarding begins in a few minutes, please have your ticket and passport ready,” the announcement rang and you unplugged your headphones, stuffing them in your pocket.

As you stood in line to board the plane, you text your brother to let him know that you’re about to board, knowing that he would inform your mother.

You: about to board the plane

You: wish me luck

baby bro: can I get the 1000$ if ur plane crahes?

baby bro: jk

You: haha. fuck you

baby bro: be safe. Love you

You: I’ll try. Love you too

With a fond roll of your eyes, you pocketed your phone and handed the stewardess your boarding ticket, giving her a timid smile.

“Nervous flyer?” she asked and you grimaced, shrugging. “Eh, sort of,” you replied, reclaiming your boarding ticket after it’s been tagged.

The stewardess smiled brightly at you, looking somewhat understanding. “You’ll be fine. If you need anything, just let my colleagues know. Have a safe flight!”

“Thanks!” you said and flashed her a quick smile, moving to board the plane. After locating your seat, you stashed your backpack in the bin over the seats, only needing your phone and your cellphone during the flight. As you settled into your seat, you noticed that Tom had splurged on your seat, since it was nicer than you were used to. You figured it didn’t even dent his wallet, from what you’ve seen, Tom seemed to travel by private plane a lot so he was probably used to nice and comfortable flights.

But since you weren’t, you snuggled into the seat, took advantage of the big space by your feet and leaned back, mentally preparing for the long flight that was ahead of you. “Please check your seats to make sure you don’t leave anything behind and thank you for flying with Delta airlines,” a cheery voice rang out of the coms as the passengers lined up to leave the plane, you being one among them.

Your nervousness bubbled just below the surface while you grabbed your suitcase, walking over to the escalators which would take you down to the pick up zone, where a driver would wait for you. While the escalator slowly descended with you on one step, you looked around for the driver, assuming to catch a poster with your name on it. You know, like in the movies.

But as you reached the ground level, you were disappointed since there were was no one with a poster with your name on it. As other people greeted and embraced their loved ones you lugged your suitcase to the side on a bench to sit down, wiping over your face with the sleeves of your sweatshirt.

As the crowd thinned, you were still sitting on the bench, scrolling on your phone, wondering if you should send Tom an email, when a commotion caused you to look up from your phone.

You saw a guy standing next to an older lady, her suitcase sprawled on the floor. The boy was apologizing profusely to the lady and helping her pack up her clothes.

The sun glasses kept slipping off his nose as he scrambled to pack the clothes back into the suitcase. He looked awfully familiar, but you couldn’t quiet place his face since the cap he was wearing was pulled down deep in his face. You shook your head quickly, clearing your thoughts; you haven’t even been in LA for an hour and you were already seeing celebrities everywhere.

“Wow,” you muttered as you glanced at the clock, you’ve been waiting for over half an hour and your driver still wasn’t there.

With a sigh you got up, figuring you could maybe pick up a coffee or something while you waited, when the guy ran up to you, skidding to a stop and looking around. He seemed desperate so you gave him a look, tilting your head. “You okay?” you asked and he nodded, clearing his throat before replying with a deep voice:

“Uh, yeah, I am looking for Y/N Y/L/N,” he said and you awkwardly lifted your hand. “That’s me,” you answered and the guy sighed in relief.

“Oh thank god,” he said with a thick British accent, voice suddenly much higher than before.

“Uh, what-“ you started and when he lifted his sun glasses, you realized who was actually standing in front of you.

Tom fucking Holland came to pick you up from the airport.

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#swanky fortune #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fic #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fanfic #peter parker fic #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #own work #tom holland #peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader

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thecleverdame · 6 years ago

Text

TTWDBI - Eight

Part Eight - Deceit

Masterlist

Summary: Alpha!Sam x Omega!Reader - Sam is young, powerful and comes from one of the wealthiest families in New York. When he meets an Omega bartender who’s far from what his family expects, Sam is forced to make a series of hard choices.

Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, smut, knotting, breeding, dominance, ownership, angst, family drama. This chapter contains an attempted sexual assault, actual physical assault, and talk of past abuse.

Words: 6.5k

Beta: @ilikaicalie -

Part Nine is currently available on Patreon for a monthly pledge of $2.50. This includes early access to all my stories and Patreon exclusive content. >> CLICK HERE <<

“Where are we going?” You peek out of the walk-in closet. “I need a few details. I don’t know what to pack.”

“Just pack everything.” Sam’s distracted, staring down his iPad with a stylus between his teeth.

“Winter everything or warm weather everything?” You slink out into the bedroom. “Come on, just a hint. Just tell me...are we staying in the state or are we going somewhere more exotic.”

“Nope.” He quips, marking notes on the digital screen.

“How long are we staying? Are we driving or flying?” You persist.

He perks up a little, actually making eye contact with a smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Pack enough for a week, a dress or two, something warm. A bathing suit, well, on second thought you won’t need the suit…”

“You’re awful.” You laugh, as he nips at you.

It’s been a month since Jake and things between you and Sam couldn’t be better. The last four weeks have been wonderfully uneventful and it’s given you the time to enjoy each other. In fact, you’ve discovered that the more you’re around each other, the deeper your love grows. Fate must have known what it was doing when it brought you together.

“Bring that black thing with all the lace, the one piece. I love your ass in that.”

“Maybe.” You smile, pulling the aforementioned neglige from the hanger and carefully folding it into the suitcase. “How many bags can I bring with me?”

“As many as you want we’re taking my dad’s plane so you can - fuck!”

“Aha!” You jump back out of the closet, to find Sam shaking his head, glaring at you. “We’re taking a plane somewhere. Out of the state? Out of the country?”

“You think you’re so slick.” He puts down the iPad and stands up, moving toward you. “You’re just going to have wait until tomorrow.”

“Come on!” You whine. “I wanna know.”

“I’m not saying another word, I might give something else away. I’ve kept it secret this long. I’m not letting you trip me up at the finish line. My lips are sealed.”

He pulls to you him, one hand around your waist, fingers curling around your back as his thumb trails over the scar on your neck.

“I’m excited.” You whisper, eyes fluttering at his touch. “I haven’t traveled much. I always wanted to, Donna and I were going to backpack through Ireland but neither of us ever had the money.”

“I’m gonna take you everywhere.” He murmurs, leans down for a light kiss. “Just wait.”

Prague, Czech Republic

The city is like a rich noir novel come to life. It’s a taste of the old world, with its decadent buildings and thick, hanging fog. It’s like living in a Bela Lugosi movie. You’ve been here for three days, with five more to go. A whole week in a place you didn’t know you loved until the plane landed and you stepped out into this strange new land.

It’s well after sunset as you walk arm-in-arm with Sam over the cobblestones.

“Are you hungry?” He asks, hot breath puffing out into the frigid night air. He places a gloved hand over yours.

“Starving.” You smile, picking up the pace.

Dinner is a five-course meal in a candlelit tavern that looks like a medieval alehouse, complete with walls of stone and soft music playing the background. It’s a small place, only a few other couples cuddle around the aging wood tables giving the illusion of privacy. You might as well be the only ones here as you get lost in Sam, and food, and the otherworldly surroundings.

By the time the sorbet arrives you’re both so full, you can only manage a taste before sitting back, grinning like a fool. Sam looks just as happy, he’s had a smile plastered across his face since you left New York and this broad, unadulterated joy looks good on him.

“I can’t believe this is my life.” You giggle, reaching across the table, laying your hand over his.

“You like it here?” He doesn’t need to ask, he knows he picked well. He’s watched you discover art and architecture and European cuisine. He knew you had deeper interests, a desire to see more than your previous life afforded but in this place, you’re blossoming.

“It’s not just the city, it’s being here with you. Everything just feels right.” You blink back tears. “I’ve never been able to breathe without something looming over me. I just feel so free. I love you so much.”

If it’s even possible his smile widens, dimpled cheeks rounding out.

“I love you, too.” He squeezes your fingers. “What’s been your favorite thing so far?”

“St. Vitus Cathedral at night.” You answer without even thinking about it. “I’ve never felt anything like that before, it was overwhelming and...emotional. Is that weird?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “I felt the same way when I saw it for the first time. I was visiting my mom and we came here. I was eight or nine and I stood there for an hour, transfixed. We should go back. We can go tonight.”

“Really?” You confirm. “I’d love that.”

“No better time than the present.”

After dinner, you wander through the city. It’s chilly but tolerable as you stroll for the better part of an hour, talking about nothing and walking arm in arm as a fat moon rises high in the night sky.

St. Vitus rises in front of you like an architectural beacon, lighting up the night like a gothic fairy tale.

“I never wanna leave.” You whisper, feeling both of Sam’s arms wrap around you from behind.

“What do you love so much about it?” He asks softly, nuzzling into your hair.

“The city, the people...but mostly I think it’s being with you. When we’re home you work so much...I’m not complaining. I just miss you sometimes.”

“We’ve got the rest of our lives to be together.” He whispers as he releases you. You turn to look at him but he’s already on one knee, crouching in front of you.

“Sam.” You’re already crying as he tugs the glove off your left hand.

“I love you. I wanna spend my life with you.” He states simply, a sparkling ring between his fingers. “I don’t want to wait any longer to start our life together. Will you marry me?”

“Yes!” You blurt out, half laughing, half crying, while he slips the ring onto your finger.

“I’m gonna make you so happy,” he whispers, standing and cradling your face between two warm hands. “I promise.”

The rest of the week is a lovesick haze. The days are spent making love and endless conversation about the details of your new life. Everything feels like it’s falling into place, life has finally come together to give you something good.

New York City

“Come in!” Mary claps her hands together, grinning wildly.

“Hi,” you gasp as she embraces you in a tight hug.

“Sam,” She releases you and reaches out to her son, kissing him on the cheek.

“Hi mom,” he grins as she pats his face. “You’re happy.”

“Well, I have a surprise for you.” She looks at you, the biggest smile you’ve ever seen on her face. “I think it’s just what we need.”

“What is it?” Sam smiles at you, taking your hand and leading the way to the study.

Rounding the corner you find two extra guests seated on the leather sofa, your parents.

You stop in your tracks as Sam tugs on your hand, turning to look between you and these new strangers. You’re locked in a staring match with your father, who’s teetering on the edge of the couch with a glass in his hand. Your mother is sitting uncomfortably beside him, these two couldn’t be more out of their comfort zone. They’ve always considered wealth in itself to be an offensive extravagance.

“Hello, Y/N.” Your father stands up, clearing his throat.

You unconsciously sidestep closer to Sam even though he’s not physically intimidating like when you were a girl, now he’s just a man in cheap trousers who no longer holds sway over your life.

“Hi, Dad.” You don’t move to greet him, there’s complete silence until your mother joins her husband, slinking past him to place a kiss on your cheek. “Mom.”

“Well, this isn’t exactly the reception I was hoping for.” Mary’s tone is painfully cheerful despite the unbearable tension.

“I’m sorry,” You pull yourself together. Turning to Sam you can’t bring yourself to look him in the eyes, you won’t be able to fake your way through this. “Sam these are my parents, Alastair and Naomi. Mom, Dad, this is Sam.”

Sam, always quick with his social graces, shakes your father’s hand and introduces himself to your mom while you are trying to formulate a plan. You were fully prepared to never see either of them again, but you find yourself in a room with two people who rival John and Mary in their cruelty.

“I just thought it was about time that we met Y/N’s parents.” Clasping her hands, Mary scrunches up her nose, smiling from you to Sam. “And what better time? You two can tell us all about Prague.”

“Actually, this is perfect.” Sam’s arm slips around your waist. “We have some news.”

“Oh?” John speaks up for the first time, tilting his head and staring at Sam. It’s amazing how much disappointment the man can convey with a single, one syllable word.

“Yeah,” Sam’s hand squeezes your hip and you look to him for the first time. He’s smiling, a bright genuine smile that even his father can’t take from him. “I asked Y/N to marry me.”

John snorts, Mary’s face contorts into a hideous expression of forced joy and your father remains stoic. It’s Naomi, your mother who has the biggest reaction, moving in to embrace you while your arms hang at your side.

“Congratulations,” she sputters, lifting your hand to see the ring. Her eyes go wide at the sight of the sizeable diamond. “Oh my gosh.”

“If she’s a wearing a ring that must mean she said yes,” Mary approaches you for a hug, nearly shoving your mother out of the way to get to you. “I wish you would have told me Sam, I could have helped with the ring.”

“I think I did alright on my own.” Sam’s grin, his eyes locked on you.

“It’s perfect.” You add, trying not to be distracted by this unexpected turn of events. This should be a happy announcement and you hate that your past is tainting the present, bleeding into your new life like an open wound that refuses to heal.

“I can’t believe you’re getting married.” Your mother has the same dulled, Stepford Wife expression she wore your entire childhood. “Marriage is such a gift, such a sacred bond.”

“Does that mean you’re happy for me?” The question comes out with an edge despite doing your best to temper the disdain.

“Of course.” She looks between you and Sam.

“Congratulations.” John’s face is even, unreadable as he approaches his youngest son.

“Thanks.” Sam accepts his father's half-hearted hug.

“Well,” Mary’s frozen in place, hands clasped together, turning to your father who hasn’t spoken or moved from his seat. “This is delightful news, isn’t it.”

“Seems backward to me.” His eyes lock onto you just like when you were a kid, so much silent contempt for what you are. He’s always resented that his daughter is an Omega. “You’re already claimed. What’s the point?”

“Dad.” You warn. Everyone is watching but all you can see is your father.

“I think it’s wonderful.” Mary tries to intercede. “With the baby things will be-”

“Mom!” Sam hisses.

Your mother looks heartbroken and your father’s eyes narrow in on you.

“You expected me to be shocked?” He snorts. “I wouldn’t have expected anything different from our daughter. She’s always had trouble keeping her legs closed.”

“Hey,” Sam is right beside you, ready to jump but you put your arm out to stop him.

“I know what you think of me. You’ve always made that much clear.”

“And you’ve always lived up to expectations. I tried my best with you, your mother and I both did. But you and your sister never listened.”

“Tried your best?” You laugh dryly. “You treated us like we were filthy, like being an Omega meant that I was damned from the get-go.”

“You had no self-control. It was bad enough when you were little but once you presented and that first heat came it was clear what kind of women you’d end up becoming.”

“I was a child!” You shout, tears springing to life. “I needed you to love me, to protect me. I needed mom to show me how to handle myself. All either of you ever did was hurt me.”

“This is the problem with today’s society. A little discipline never harmed anyone, and you needed more than you got.”

“I can’t be here with him.” You turned to Sam who’s already wrapping an arm around your waist.

“You’re going to burn in hell. You’ve always been a whore and I knew that you-”

“Stop.” John’s booming voice cuts through the noise, snapping everyone to attention. “You can’t speak that way to her, not in my home. You should leave.”

“Gladly.” Alastair stands up, your mother following blindly just as she always has. He stops to offer you final look of disgust. “You’re in the middle of a vipers nest and you don’t even know it. I’ll pray for you.”

“Get out.” Sam pulls you against him.

“What an awful man.” Mary comments, tucking hair behind both your ears. You can’t stop crying and the embarrassment doesn’t help. She wipes her thumb across your cheeks. “If I had any idea I would never have invited him here.”

“All I want is to live my life, to be happy. I don’t know why that’s always been so hard for me.”

“Well, there’s nothing happier than a wedding.” She dotes, handing you a glass of water, turning to Sam who’s seated next to John at the end of the table. “Have you two talked about dates yet?”

“Next month.” Sam nods, tapping his finger on his whiskey glass.

“Next month?” She scoffs, eyes darting to John. “Why so soon?”

“She’s going to start showing at some point.”

“My son is suddenly concerned about what other people think.”

“We don’t want to wait any longer. We want to move forward as a family.” You chime in. Mary doesn’t look at you, instead takes a seat at the table.

“I think it’s a good thing.” John offers casually as the three of you turn to look at him in disbelief. “Family is important. That’s a lesson I’m still learning. I haven’t always been the most supportive, but if Sam’s happy, if you two make each other happy, then why the hell not.”

He raises a glass, tipping back the final vestiges of whiskey, his eyes never leaving you.

On Monday morning you’re not feeling well. Sam looks at you sideways, sipping a cup of coffee.

“You alright?” He kisses your cheek before checking his tie in the mirror beside the door.

“Just tired.” You mumble, wrapping the robe around yourself. “I didn’t sleep well.”

“Go back to bed.” He suggests, grabbing his keys off the counter, swooping in for one last kiss.

There’s a gentle buzzing coming from somewhere in the kitchen. Sam pulls away as you both look around. After a few seconds of silence, it buzzes again. Something’s vibrating. He follows the sound to the pantry, sliding the doors open, the sound growing louder. After shifting a few canned goods around he pulls a small black flip phone from the back of the highest shelf, from behind a 5lb bag of rice.

“It’s a phone?” You ask, watching and he flips it open with his thumb.

“Yeah, it’s dying.” He holds it up, the screen is nothing but the image of a drained battery.

“How’d it get in there?” You ask as Sam hands it to you.

“No idea, must be the housekeeper’s.” He shrugs. “I gotta go, see you tonight.”

Sam’s knee deep in a fresh set of analytics, already late for the quarterly meeting when there’s a knock the door.

“What it is?” He asks, expecting Rowena’s head to poke around the corner. Instead, it’s Mary who steps into his office, offering him a tight smile.

“I came at a bad time?” She’s slinking toward his desk as he shuffles papers back into the proper folders.

“Sorry mom, I’m right in the middle of it. I’m already late for a meeting. Can we talk later?”

“I just need a second.” There’s a large manilla folder in her stands, clutching it like she’s holding the crown jewels.

“I’ve only got one minute, but we can get coffee later if you want to-”

“I’d like that, but I-I have to show you something.”

“What?” He’s only half paying attention. When she doesn’t speak he looks up to find her holding the folder out toward him. “What is that?”

“Before you get mad at me, I want you to hear me out.” She explains calmly.

“Mom-”

“I care about you Sam, I won’t ever feel bad for that. I know you think you love this girl but the truth is no really knows where she came from or-”

“I’m not having this discussion.” Sam rests his knuckles on the desk, leaning forward.

“She’s not who you think she is.” Mary’s flustered, unadulterated anger rising her voice. “I know you think I’m always trying to manipulate you, but I’m not the only one-”

“Please, just stop. You’re on dangerous ground. You wanna be careful what you say next. I thought you were on board. Has this whole supportive production just been an act?” He can’t believe she’s still trying to pry her way into his relationship.

“No, I’ve been trying, honestly I have.” She walks around his desk, setting the folder in front of him. “You need to look at this when you have the time.”

“What is it?”

“After I first found out you claimed an Omega I hired a private investigator to look into her background. I needed to be sure you weren’t going to end up hurt.”

“Unbelievable.” Sam shakes his head.

“Sam, he found some things you need to see before you decide to marry this woman.”

“Everybody’s got shit in their past, mom.” He throws up his hands, looking from her to the folder, unwilling to dignify this with an adequate response.

“Not like this.” Mary’s jaw clenches. “She has been busy-”

“No.” Sam interrupts, he’s had enough. “I don’t want to hear any more.”

“I hope, for your sake you look at what he found. Don’t call me, call him. His number is in there.”

Sam sighs, takes a deep breath trying to fathom what in the world his mother is up to now. He’s disgusted but interested enough to pick up the pack and slide it in with his other documents.

“You need to stay out of my life.” He grabs his jacket off the back of the chair. “Find a way to get supportive or get out. It’s one or the other, Mom. I love you, I do, but I’ve got to go.”

By noon you’re sick to your stomach, lightheaded and generally feeling unsettled. Figuring it’s better to be safe than sorry you call the clinic. Dr. Johnson has an open appointment the next morning so you take the slot and go back to bed.

A few hours later the cramps wake you out of dead sleep. You jolt into consciousness clutching a hand over your abdomen, sweat covering every inch of you. Something is wrong, you know it in your bones.

You get yourself in a cab and head to the nearest emergency room. You don’t want to call Sam, not yet. He and John are having an important day, meeting with investors and getting ready for the global launch of their new flagship drug. Things have been going so well even his father is coming around. You don’t want to throw a wrench in the works by overreacting.

Omegas are made to carry children. You keep repeating that to yourself as you sit in the waiting room.

After twenty minutes you’re in a triage room in a paper gown waiting for the doctor. They’ve taken a gallon of blood but no one’s told you anything.

There’s a soft knock at the door.

“Hi, I’m Dr. Tuttle. I’m told you’re not feeling so well?”

“Not the best.” You smile as he takes a seat on the stool, rubbing hand sanitizer between his hands. He flips open your chart, reading through the notes.

“Twelve weeks, no complications. You’re claimed… Sam Winchester?” His eyes snap up, glancing at the gleaming rock on your finger.

“Yeah.” You blush, covering the ring self-consciously.

“I just read an article in the New England Journal of Medicine about the work Gilead’s spearheading. It’s an exciting time in medicine.”

“Sam will happy to hear that.” You try to move on from the niceties to the issue at hand, closing your eyes as pain bubbles up from your gut.

“I’m surprised you’re here. You don’t have a personal physician? And you're alone?”

“My doctor couldn’t see me until tomorrow and I didn’t want to worry Sam unless I know something’s wrong. I didn’t think I should wait, though.”

“Smart.” He smiles. “Don’t worry, I’m sure you’re fine. No bleeding?”

“No, I just feel dizzy and sick to my stomach. The cramping comes and goes.”

“It’s not uncommon.” He places a hand on your arm. “Lay back for me.”

You stare at the ceiling as he gently presses on different areas of your stomach, asking about abdominal tenderness while making small talk.

There’s a knock on the door and a nurse enters the room, handing him a tablet. He reads the screen, forehead furrowing.

“The doctor you’ve been seeing, Dr. Johnson, she never mentioned you have low progesterone levels?”

“No,” You sit up, unease tightening in your chest. “Is something wrong?”

“I didn’t say that.” He shakes his head. “We’re going to do an ultrasound, just to be on the safe side.”

After a few minutes, there’s a cart wheeled into the room. One nurse is joined by two more as the doctor squirts gel onto your stomach, all four pairs of eyes silently glued to a screen you can’t see.

Dr. Tuttle clears his throat, mouth tightening. It doesn’t take a genius to gage the confused reactions of the medical team.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, tears pooling. “Did I lose my baby?”

“No.” The doctor removes the wand from your stomach. “I can’t discuss this any further with you. I have to speak with your Alpha-”

“Are you kidding me?” You’ve reached the end of your rope with this shit. This is your body, your child and you want to know now. “Tell me what’s going on, I have a right to know.”

Dr. Tuttle takes a breath, “Can I have the room please.”

“Please just tell me.” Wiping tears you wait in terrified anticipation until it’s only the two of you in the room.

“I shouldn’t do a pelvic exam without the consent of your Alpha. I could get in trouble. But I feel in this case I need to make an exception.”

“Why are you telling me that?”

“Because I need to do one. Right now.”

“This doesn’t feel right, I don’t understand what’s going on.”

“I don’t want to say anything else until I have more information.” He looks you dead in the eyes. “You’re gonna have to trust me.”

“Great.” You close your eyes, trying not to sob. “Why not.”

There’s an ultimate humiliation in not having power over your own body. You lie on the table, feet in stirrups and an arm hooked over your eyes, as the doctor performs an examination. It’s almost twenty minutes before he’s finishing poking and probing. You listen to the sickening sound of him snapping off rubber gloves.

“We’re done.” He gently places a hand on your arm, using the other to pull you into a sitting position. His face is grim, looking at you like he’s truly sorry for what he’s about to say.

“Are you gonna tell me?”

“You’re not pregnant.” He states calmly.

The air feels thick like you can’t get enough into your lungs to take a full breath. There’s a numbness that starts in your head and descends over your entire body as you sit and stare at Dr. Tuttle, expressionless.

“Did, um, did I do something wrong?” You ask, the words falling out of your mouth on autopilot. “Is this my fault?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “You were never pregnant.”

“I don’t understand.” Never pregnant. It’s too much, too confusing and your brain can’t process what he’s telling you. “But I…”

“You have high levels of estrogen, extremely low progesterone and a synthetic version of hCG that showed up in your tox screen. It’s tricked your body into pseudocyesis. It mimics all the symptoms associated with a normal pregnancy. Swollen belly, breast tenderness, nausea, and weight gain. In some cases even the feeling of fetal movement. You wouldn’t have known the difference. But I can say with a hundred percent certainty that you have never been pregnant.”

You stare at him, unable to move or speak, the gravity of this revelation setting in.

“But I-I saw a heartbeat. I saw my baby.”

“Whatever you saw, it wasn’t your pregnancy.” He takes off his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose. “This is unconventional, I shouldn’t even be telling you this. I have to call your Alpha.”

“Okay.” You’re still, focused on the wall. You can’t think anymore. If you let yourself feel it’ll be too much, so instead you shut down. “I need to go.”

“I think you should stay. We’ll call your Alpha, maybe we can all sit down together-”

“No.” You discard your gown in front of him, nudity is your last concern as you search for your jeans. “Thank you, but I need to go home now.”

Sam’s phone vibrates in his pocket for the third time in five minutes. He checks it again, it’s a number he doesn’t recognize so he hits the mute button.

“You need to take that?” John leans back in his chair, his eyes never leaving the shareholders presentation that’s currently in progress.

“I don’t know.” Sam grimaces as a fourth call comes in. “I think I better.”

Stepping into the hallways he answers, already annoyed. “Winchester.”

“Sam Winchester?” The voice is male and unfamiliar.

“The one and only. Who is this?”

“My name is doctor Tuttle, I’m a physician at New York Presbyterian.”

Sam’s heart drops into this stomach.

“What’s wrong?” He’s sweating before the question is finished.

“Your Omega came in today, I treated her for what I thought were pregnancy-related symptoms.”

“Is she alright?” He takes off toward his office, breaking into a run. He just needs his car keys. “Is something wrong with our baby?”

“She’s fine, but I do have some pretty unsettling news, Mr. Winchester. I think it’s best if you come here so we can speak in person.”

“I’m on my way.”

Twenty minutes later Sam’s sitting in a small office with lime green walls, listening as he’s told that his entire world has been a lie.

She was never pregnant. It appears to be a chemical induced pregnancy.

The words rattle around in his head. The doctor keeps talking, the hospital legal counsel sitting in the corner taking notes.

“How is this possible?” Sam can feel the rage boiling in his veins. You’ve been lying to him all this time, it’s the only explanation. “She had an ultrasound, I was there.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time that a woman has faked a pregnancy.” The lawyer speaks up. “You’d be surprised what people will agree to do for a little bit of cash.”

“I’m not entirely convinced that’s the case.” Dr. Tuttle speaks up. “She came in knowing we’d run tests, all it took was a blood screen and an ultrasound to determine she wasn’t pregnant. And her reactions appeared to be genuine. I tried to get her to stay, to wait for you, but she insisted on leaving.”

“I haven’t been able to reach her.” Sam runs a hand over his mouth. There’s a pressure building in his chest, starting to make it hard to breathe “I need to get out of here.”

He tried to call you several times on his way to the hospital but your phone is turned off. He left Donna a message but he didn’t know who else to call. You’re unreachable and his entire world is coming apart at the seams.

He sits in his car in the parking garage, key in the ignition but the car is still off. Sam can’t think straight. There are a million thoughts swirling in his brain. His eyes fall on the folder his mother handed him this morning, and he picks up, pulling out a stack of documents.

The first sheet is withdrawal history from your bank account. He hasn’t checked it since the business with Jake but the money didn't stop there. There are a series of withdrawals every month totaling around ten thousand dollars. There are two pages stapled to that one, showing charitable donations to the clinic you’ve been attending. And a deposit statement from the account of Amelia Richardson for fifteen thousand dollars.

Next is a transcript of text messages from an unlabeled number to a second number identified as Jake. It’s a series of messages that end in asking him to come to the apartment the day of the assault, along with the building address and security code.

The following page is a list of internet searches from your home IP address. Some of it’s about him, his family and then the inquiries trail off into fertility. Next, are various detailed searches regarding marriage laws and the details of financial responsibility once an Alpha marries an Omega. Then the specifics of the new drug that Sam’s been working on.

The connections begin to click together. He’s spent the last year listening to scientists explain how their cure for heat sickness works, It’s simple really. It tricks the body into thinking it’s pregnant. It can’t be a coincidence. There’s no way.

The next page is a series of photos. The first two of are you coming and going from the clinic.

In the third, you’re sitting alone at a table in a cafe. Directly behind is a young blonde, it takes Sam a moment to place her. It’s the ultrasound technician. In the following photo, the girl is gone and you’re joined by Donna. There’s a handwritten note in the margins that reads withdrawal of a thousand same day - pay off?

Next is a surveillance shot of you and Amelia in a hallway at Gilead, you’re talking about something and there’s a note, a reference back to your bank withdrawal and the corresponding deposit into Amelia’s account.

The final photo makes his heart stop. It’s different than the rest and there’s a Post It that says found in Jake’s apartment. It’s from four or five years ago at a charity event. Sam and Dean are front and center, arms around each other’s shoulders. Sam remembers that night well, they both drank too much and ended up flying to Vegas at 3 am. But behind Dean is your image, a younger version of you dressed in a caterer’s uniform, holding a tray of champagne, staring at the back of Sam’s head.

The last page is the name of a divorce lawyer, Rouel Felder, and grainy photos of you leaving his office. Felder is ruthless, he’s represented everyone from Rudolph Giuliani to David Gest.

There’s a handwritten synopsis from the investigator.

It is my personal opinion, based on these facts, that the subject has engaged in ongoing deception regarding her pregnancy and her relationship with Jake Livingston. I believe the subject new that J. Livingston had photos of her contact with S. Winchester prior to their most recent meeting and that the subject cultivated the situation that lead to the death of J. Livingston at the hands of her Alpha.

The picture is clear. You’ve had an agenda from the beginning, this has all been one long, elaborate con designed to get him to marry you.

He opens the door of his car just in time to vomit on the cement. He wipes his mouth with his tie, before yanking it off his neck, tossing it on the ground of the parking garage. There’s a moment when he can’t see straight, his vision blurring as a sickening combination of anger and betrayal rises up.

He punches the steering column a half dozen times, not stopping until his knuckles bleed, but what he really wants is to punch a hole in the windshield. He’s about to really lose it when his phone vibrates and Donna’s name scrolls across the screen.

“I got your voicemail.” Donna quips as soon as he picks up. “I haven’t heard from her. Is something going on-”

“Did you fucking know?” Sam snarls, gripping the phone so tight his fingers turn white. “Have you two been laughing behind my back?”

“You’re gonna need to take a chill pill, buddy.” Donna shoots back. “You might be used to talking to other people like that, but not me.”

“I know what she’s been doing.” He hits the horn of the car with a closed fist.

“Care to share? Because I don’t have a freakin’ clue what you’re talking about.”

“This whole thing was a setup. The sob story about her parents, getting me to take out Jake and a baby that doesn’t fucking exist.”

“Are you drunk?” She asks flatly. “Is something wrong with the baby?”

“I’m so sick of people lying to me!” Sam lashes out, he wants to hurt someone, the rage bubbling up inside him has almost reached its breaking point. “I trusted her.”

“I still have no clue what you’re talking about but you need to take a breath.” She replies calmly.

“I’m talking about Y/N being this whole other person...I was so blind.”

“Stop.” Donna commands and Sam bristles. “Whatever happened you need to stop. This is the kind of crazy shit I warned her about. I told her you’d be bad for her..”

“Me?” Sam snorts in disbelief. “Bad for her?”

“Yeah, your crazy family has had it out for her since you two hooked up. I don’t know what happened but what I do know is that if you think she’s lied or betrayed you somehow, then you really are just a self-absorbed asshole. She’s put herself out there over and over again just to be with you, and now you’re talking like she’s some kind of criminal or something? Have you actually taken the time to get to know her? Because if you had, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

Sam’s silent.

“You don’t deserve her.” She spits. “Now, if you’ll excuse me I need to find my friend and figure what the hell is going on. It sounds like she probably needs someone to be there for her, and it sure as hell isn’t you.”

He’s calmed down and he’s got a plan. He’s going to remain collected and confront you with the facts. Show you the photos and the documents and ask for your side the story. The more he thinks about Donna’s words the more he knows she’s right.

This isn’t you. He’s an idiot for thinking anything else.

He can believe a lot of terrible things about almost anyone, but not you. Maybe he’s blinded by his love for you, or maybe it’s just your bond but he can’t imagine that the situation is what is appears to be.

Sam can hear it the minute the door opens. Your cries are audible from the living room and he follows the sound to find you sitting in the middle of the bedroom floor, sobbing into your hands.

He doesn’t understand much about what’s happening, but the moment he sees you he knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that you had no idea. There’s no faking this kind of despair.

“Y/N.” He says softly from the doorway and you let out a howl, wrapping your arms tighter around yourself, rocking back and forth on the floor. Gasping through the tears he can hear you struggling to breathe, you’re hyperventilating.

“Hey,” he sits on the floor, scooting closer, pulling you between his legs to wrap himself around you.

“I c-can’t b-breathe.” You sputter, gasping like a fish on dry land.

“Yes, you can.” Sam wants to cry too, but his emotional outbursts are the last thing you need right now. This moment is the greatest test of his ability to be an Alpha and he’s not about to let you down, not again, not after everything. “Breathe with me. Come on, in...out...in...out.”

He takes exaggerated breaths so you easily feel the rhythm of his body, each inhale and exhale is measured and slow until you calm down enough to find the pace on your own. But as soon as the panic attack passes your tears come back, gut-wrenching sobs that crush Sam’s heart.

“I don’t understand. I could feel our baby.” You howl. “I could feel it inside me but it was never there.”

“I know.” He kisses your head, rocking with you in his arms.

“I-I didn’t w-want it and then I fell in love with the idea of-” You can’t finish.

For a long time, neither of you say a word, you just cry for nearly an hour until you’re too physically exhausted to shed another tear. Even after the crying stops, he holds you as the minutes tick by and you lie limply in his arms.

“We’re gonna find out what happened. I promise you.”

“I don't care.” You whisper, utterly defeated. “I want my baby.”

“I’m so sorry,” Sam whispers, a tear sliding down his cheek. “We’ll have a baby. As soon as you want, whenever you’re ready.”

“I don’t think I can.” You grip his arms, holding on like some unseen force might try to pull you away from him. “My heart is too broken.”

Part Nine is currently available on Patreon for a monthly pledge of $2.50. This includes early access to all my stories and Patreon exclusive content. >> CLICK HERE <<

Tags: @smallgirlbigpersonality

@kittenofdoomage @mereka18 @gryffindorable713 @trainlikeawinchester @winchesterprincessbride @bamby0304 @saxxxology @notyourtypicalrose @mariekoukie6661 @little-big-mac2 @emoryhemsworth @mystriee @atc74 @holyfuckloueh @bunnybaby121115 @mogaruke @darkmystress00 @jaspesangriento @kazuha159 @deans-baby-momma @crispychrissy @schilj79 @wilde-abandon @hennessy0274-blog @bojabee @miss-samantha-winchester @impalaimagining @andkatiethings @astephez @ladycynthia @mrswhozeewhatsis @lenawiinchester @feelmyroarrrr @mrs-meghan-winchester @har-rystyles @mistressofallthingsgeeky @theamuz @maui137 @stars-and-seas @vale0413 @impala67trenchcoat @curly-haired-disaster @ericaprice2008 @livelikeawinchester @althehufflepuff @itsthesamegametoday @bohowitch @spnwoman @just-a-normal-eccentric @gallifreyansass @StoneyGGirl @lonely-skys @81mysteriouslyme @missrandomista @soupornatural @stars-and-seas @natura1phenomenon @jarpadandjensenaremyheroes @81mysteriouslyme @likhelbentin @mrooks0205 @zombiewerewolfqueen @winchesterprincessbride @squirrel-moose-winchester @fortisetgloriosusinarduis @closetspngirl @dominodoll @rainflowermoonlibrary @cleighwrites @camelotandastronauts @imarockstar45 @thebeastinside19 @courtney-padalecki @itsthesamegametoday @virtualgirlfriendsan @daisymoder72 @fandom-is-my-middle-name @mysticmcu @luciferseclipse @malinda1997 @sunlight-dean @rockhoochie @collette04 @sandlee44 @ohnowin-chester @maddiepants @fandom-princess-forevermore @geeksareunique @femdeni314 @lazinessisalliknow @samwinchesterssexyface @the-yellow-girl96 @that67chevy @that-weird-asian-gorl

#TTWDBI #Alpha!Sam x Omega!Reader #sam winchester x reader #alpha!sam winchester

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richincolor · 6 years ago

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Poetry Favorites

I cannot remember a time when I didn't love words. Poets use words efficiently and effectively and quite often evoke strong emotions, so poetry has also always appealed to me. I tend to seek out anthologies, novels in verse, and even books with poetry sort of sprinkled throughout. Here are a few of my favorites.

Anthologies:

No Matter the Wreckage by Sarah Kay Write Bloody Publishing

Summary: Following the success of her breakout poem, “B,” Sarah Kay releases her debut collection of poetry featuring work from the first decade of her career. No Matter the Wreckage presents readers with new and beloved work that showcases Kay’s knack for celebrating family, love, travel, history, and unlikely love affairs between inanimate objects (“Toothbrush to the Bicycle Tire”), among other curious topics. Both fresh and wise, Kay’s poetry allows readers to join in on her journey of discovering herself and the world around her. It’s an honest and powerful collection.

Voices in the Air by Naomi Shihab Nye Greenwillow Books

Acclaimed and award-winning poet, teacher, and National Book Award finalist Naomi Shihab Nye’s uncommon and unforgettable voice offers readers peace, humor, inspiration, and solace. This volume of almost one hundred original poems is a stunning and engaging tribute to the diverse voices past and present that comfort us, compel us, lead us, and give us hope.

Voices in the Air is a collection of almost one hundred original poems written by the award-winning poet Naomi Shihab Nye in honor of the artists, writers, poets, historical figures, ordinary people, and diverse luminaries from past and present who have inspired her. Full of words of encouragement, solace, and hope, this collection offers a message of peace and empathy.

Voices in the Air celebrates the inspirational people who strengthen and motivate us to create, to open our hearts, and to live rewarding and graceful lives. With short informational bios about the influential figures behind each poem, and a transcendent introduction by the poet, this is a collection to cherish, read again and again, and share with others. Includes an index.

Dreaming in Indian by Lisa Charleyboy & Mary Beth Leatherdale (Not solely poetry, but containing some poetry) Annick Press

A powerful and visually stunning anthology from some of the most groundbreaking Native artists working in North America today.

Truly universal in its themes, “Dreaming In Indian” will shatter commonly held stereotypes and challenge readers to rethink their own place in the world. Divided into four sections, ‘Roots, ‘ ‘Battles, ‘ ‘Medicines, ‘ and ‘Dreamcatchers, ‘ this book offers readers a unique insight into a community often misunderstood and misrepresented by the mainstream media.

Emerging and established Native artists, including acclaimed author Joseph Boyden, renowned visual artist Bunky Echo Hawk, and stand-up comedian Ryan McMahon, contribute thoughtful and heartfelt pieces on their experiences growing up Indigenous, expressing them through such mediums as art, food, the written word, sport, dance, and fashion. Renowned chef Aaron Bear Robe, for example, explains how he introduces restaurant customers to his culture by reinventing traditional dishes. And in a dramatic photo spread, model Ashley Callingbull and photographer Thosh Collins reappropriate the trend of wearing ‘Native’ clothing.

Whether addressing the effects of residential schools, calling out bullies through personal manifestos, or simply citing hopes for the future, “Dreaming In Indian” refuses to shy away from difficult topics. Insightful, thought-provoking, and beautifully honest, this book will to appeal to young adult readers. An innovative and captivating design enhances each contribution and makes for a truly unique reading experience.

See also their other two collections: Urban Tribes & #NotYourPrincess

Novels in Verse

The Poet X by Elizabeth Acevedo HarperTeen [Audrey’s Review]

A young girl in Harlem discovers slam poetry as a way to understand her mother’s religion and her own relationship to the world. Debut novel of renowned slam poet Elizabeth Acevedo.

Xiomara Batista feels unheard and unable to hide in her Harlem neighborhood. Ever since her body grew into curves, she has learned to let her fists and her fierceness do the talking.

But Xiomara has plenty she wants to say, and she pours all her frustration and passion onto the pages of a leather notebook, reciting the words to herself like prayers—especially after she catches feelings for a boy in her bio class named Aman, who her family can never know about. With Mami’s determination to force her daughter to obey the laws of the church, Xiomara understands that her thoughts are best kept to herself.

So when she is invited to join her school’s slam poetry club, she doesn’t know how she could ever attend without her mami finding out, much less speak her words out loud. But still, she can’t stop thinking about performing her poems. Because in the face of a world that may not want to hear her, Xiomara refuses to be silent.

A Time to Dance by Padma Venkatraman Nancy Paulsen Books [My Review]

Summary: Padma Venkatraman’s inspiring story of a young girl’s struggle to regain her passion and find a new peace is told lyrically through verse that captures the beauty and mystery of India and the ancient Bharatanatyam dance form. This is a stunning novel about spiritual awakening, the power of art, and above all, the courage and resilience of the human spirit.

Veda, a classical dance prodigy in India, lives and breathes dance—so when an accident leaves her a below-knee amputee, her dreams are shattered. For a girl who’s grown used to receiving applause for her dance prowess and flexibility, adjusting to a prosthetic leg is painful and humbling. But Veda refuses to let her disability rob her of her dreams, and she starts all over again, taking beginner classes with the youngest dancers. Then Veda meets Govinda, a young man who approaches dance as a spiritual pursuit. As their relationship deepens, Veda reconnects with the world around her, and begins to discover who she is and what dance truly means to her.

Long Way Down by Jason Reynolds Atheneum/Caitlyn Dlouhy Books

Summary: A cannon. A strap. A piece. A biscuit. A burner. A heater. A chopper. A gat. A hammer A tool for RULE

Or, you can call it a gun. That’s what fifteen-year-old Will has shoved in the back waistband of his jeans. See, his brother Shawn was just murdered. And Will knows the rules. No crying. No snitching. Revenge. That’s where Will’s now heading, with that gun shoved in the back waistband of his jeans, the gun that was his brother’s gun. He gets on the elevator, seventh floor, stoked. He knows who he’s after. Or does he? As the elevator stops on the sixth floor, on comes Buck. Buck, Will finds out, is who gave Shawn the gun before Will took the gun. Buck tells Will to check that the gun is even loaded. And that’s when Will sees that one bullet is missing. And the only one who could have fired Shawn’s gun was Shawn. Huh. Will didn’t know that Shawn had ever actually USED his gun. Bigger huh. BUCK IS DEAD. But Buck’s in the elevator? Just as Will’s trying to think this through, the door to the next floor opens. A teenage girl gets on, waves away the smoke from Dead Buck’s cigarette. Will doesn’t know her, but she knew him. Knew. When they were eight. And stray bullets had cut through the playground, and Will had tried to cover her, but she was hit anyway, and so what she wants to know, on that fifth floor elevator stop, is, what if Will, Will with the gun shoved in the back waistband of his jeans, MISSES.

And so it goes, the whole long way down, as the elevator stops on each floor, and at each stop someone connected to his brother gets on to give Will a piece to a bigger story than the one he thinks he knows. A story that might never know an END…if WILL gets off that elevator.

Gabi, a Girl in Pieces by Isabel Quintero Cinco Puntos [My Review]

Summary: Gabi Hernandez chronicles her last year in high school in her diary: college applications, Cindy’s pregnancy, Sebastian’s coming out, the cute boys, her father’s meth habit, and the food she craves. And best of all, the poetry that helps forge her identity.

July 24

My mother named me Gabriella, after my grandmother who, coincidentally, didn’t want to meet me when I was born because my mother was unmarried, and therefore living in sin. My mom has told me the story many, many, MANY, times of how, when she confessed to my grandmother that she was pregnant with me, her mother beat her. BEAT HER! She was twenty-five. That story is the basis of my sexual education and has reiterated why it’s important to wait until you’re married to give it up. So now, every time I go out with a guy, my mom says, “Ojos abiertos, piernas cerradas.” Eyes open, legs closed. That’s as far as the birds and the bees talk has gone. And I don’t mind it. I don’t necessarily agree with that whole wait until you’re married crap, though. I mean, this is America and the 21st century; not Mexico one hundred years ago. But, of course, I can’t tell my mom that because she will think I’m bad. Or worse: trying to be White.

Jumped In by Patrick Flores-Scott Henry Holt and Co. [My Review]

Sam has the rules of slackerhood down: Don’t be late to class. Don’t ever look the teacher in the eye. Develop your blank stare. Since his mom left, he has become an expert in the art of slacking, especially since no one at his new school gets his intense passion for the music of the Pacific Northwest—Nirvana, Hole, Sleater-Kinney. Then his English teacher begins a slam poetry unit and Sam gets paired up with the daunting, scarred, clearly-a-gang-member Luis, who happens to sit next to him in every one of his classes. Slacking is no longer an option—Luis will destroy him. Told in Sam’s raw voice and interspersed with vivid poems, Jumped In by Patrick Flores-Scott is a stunning debut novel about differences, friendship, loss, and the power of words.

Shame the Stars by Guadalupe García McCall Tu Books [My Review] [Interview with Guadalupe García McCall]

Summary: Eighteen-year-old Joaquín del Toro’s future looks bright. With his older brother in the priesthood, he’s set to inherit his family’s Texas ranch. He’s in love with Dulceña—and she’s in love with him. But it’s 1915, and trouble has been brewing along the US-Mexico border. On one side, the Mexican Revolution is taking hold; on the other, Texas Rangers fight Tejano insurgents, and ordinary citizens are caught in the middle.

As tensions grow, Joaquín is torn away from Dulceña, whose father’s critical reporting on the Rangers in the local newspaper has driven a wedge between their families. Joaquín’s own father insists that the Rangers are their friends, and refuses to take sides in the conflict. But when their family ranch becomes a target, Joaquín must decide how he will stand up for what’s right.

Shame the Stars is a rich re-imagining of Romeo and Juliet set in Texas during the explosive years of Mexico’s revolution. Filled with period detail, captivating romance, and political intrigue, it brings Shakespeare’s classic to life in an entirely new way.

Piecing Me Together by Renée Watson Bloomsbury [My Review]

Summary: Jade believes she must get out of her neighborhood if she’s ever going to succeed. Her mother says she has to take every opportunity. She has. She accepted a scholarship to a mostly-white private school and even Saturday morning test prep opportunities. But some opportunities feel more demeaning than helpful. Like an invitation to join Women to Women, a mentorship program for “at-risk” girls. Except really, it’s for black girls. From “bad” neighborhoods.

But Jade doesn’t need support. And just because her mentor is black doesn’t mean she understands Jade. And maybe there are some things Jade could show these successful women about the real world and finding ways to make a real difference.

Friendships, race, privilege, identity—this compelling and thoughtful story explores the issues young women face.

If you want even more great titles, check out our Poetry Month posts from the past.

Poetry Month (2018)

Pieces of Poetry (2017)

Poetry Link Round Up (2016)

Novels in Verse (2014)

Piles of Poetry (2013)

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endless-vall · 6 years ago

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Your smile - Naomi x f!mc fanfic

Summary: A late night call to assure Ivy won’t fall into Walsh’s hands ends up with the both of them trying (and failing miserably) to properly flirt with each other.

Author’s note: Sorry for the lack of content, I’ve had a busy week haha 😅

I’m also leaving tomorrow for a vacation (I’ll post a separate post about it soon/tomorrow), so I won’t be able to write for at least... A whole week and I wanted to share something before that! 😊

I LOVE Naomi! And I don’t see enough content about her in the fandom. It doesn’t help that we only had one diamond scene with her so far 😕 (although I’m grateful for the free content, at least we get to see her every week. But I wish PB would divide their diamond scenes more equally.)

So, as always, when there isn’t enough content out there for a LI I love, I write it myself! Hehehe 😁

(Also, if you do have/know-of some Naomi x f!mc content out there, please send it my way/tag me in it??)

Naomi reminds me of Estela, but her dynamic with my MC is so different than either of my MCs had with Estela (Either male or female). I’m fond of the other LIs, too, but I just like Naomi better.

I wanna point out that in the fic, at this point it’s pretty obvious for the both of them they’re attracted to each other but they never really acted on that.

Anyway, hope you’ll enjoy!

“Ivy???” Naomi’s voice from the other side of the line sounded eager, almost frantic.

Ivy rubbed her eyes, side-glancing at the clock as she groaned a response. “Yeah?” She mumbled.

It was 4 am and she’d spend the last few hours before finally heading to bed with Flynn, investigating Birchport’s docks.

She barely got any sleep, and now Naomi was calling her and sounding very keen and uptight.

Ivy’s eyes shot wide open when she realized what this could mean, and she rose into a sitting position on her bed, now fully awake. “Is everything alright?? Is there anything new on Kate?!” She gasped.

Naomi let out an audible sigh of relief. “You’re not in Shipwreck Sally's anymore, are you?” She asked, just to make sure but it sounded as if she already deducted as much.

“No, I’m not. Should I be?” Ivy was confused to what this could mean but she rolled with it and held the phone tighter in her hand.

“Oh, thank god.” Ivy could clearly imagine the glowing smile Naomi had as she heard the tone of her voice, and had to force herself to ignore that image and continue their talk.

“We just got a call on that bar. Duffy let out that something’s going on. Probably a simple bar-fight but Duffy and Walsh were sent to the scene and I knew you were supposed to be there earlier and so...” She can hear nervousness crippling into Naomi’s voice.

“I just didn’t want you to get into any trouble.” She admitted.

Ivy smirked, smiling to herself. “It’s not like just being in a bar is a crime.” She reminded Naomi, who chuckled as well.

“Well I guess but Walsh’s already furious with you and--”

Naomi’s voice was interrupted with Ivy’s reassurance. “Don’t worry, I get what you’re saying.” She told her. “He’d take any chance to screw me over and this might just be it.” She nodded. Naomi had a point.

“And I’m very grateful for the warning, even though it was a false alarm this time.” She added.

“Even if I woke you up in 4 am?” Naomi asks, clearly embarrassed.

“Yes. Even if you woke me up in 4 am.” Ivy assured her again.

“Although I have to admit I could think of a few better ways for you to wake me up with this time of day but I’ll let it slide this time.” Ivy blurted out before she could stop herself.

There was a few long seconds of complete silence and Ivy cursed under her breathe for letting it out and using that kind of a flirty and suggestive tone.

What was I thinking?!? She scolded at herself, and it felt like forever before Naomi responded from the other side of the line.

“I’m... Done with my shift, actually.” Was the only thing she said.

A few other silent seconds had passed before the realization sank in and Ivy gulped.

“Oh.”

About twenty minutes later, Naomi was settling into the small bench in the balcony of Ivy’s room, in the B&B Ivy was staying in.

Ivy came out and joined her, sitting beside her and holding two cups of a much needed coffee, and handing one to Naomi.

“Ohhhh, yesss” Naomi took the cup in both hands, holding the warm beverage close to her face and letting it warm her before sipping from it.

“I wish I was the one making you make such noises-” Ivy let out once again, without thinking, and Naomi almost choked on her coffee.

Ivy hid her face, flushed red and embarrassed. “Oh god, I’m so sorry, I--” She started apologizing, when she heard Naomi’s blissful laughter fill the air between them, breaking any tension surrounding the both of them.

“You know your pick-up lines are horrible, right?” Naomi asked, unable to suppress her smile and still low-key giggling at her.

“Yeah but do work, don’t they?” Ivy allowed herself to be bold, since that seemed to be going better for her than anything else, as she grinned and leaned closer to Naomi.

Naomi caught her breathe, and was gazing deep into Ivy’s eyes, now fully serious and in control.

“I’d... Be lying if I said they didn’t have any affect,” Naomi bit at her lip, before moving backwards and shattering Ivy’s moment. “But you can do better.” She encouraged, before continuing to drink her coffee.

Ivy looked over Naomi. She was amused and definitely teasing.

Two can play that game, she decided.

“You’re right.” Ivy nodded, finally taking her first sip as well. She leaned against the bench’s back and made herself comfortable.

“My brain doesn’t exactly work in these kind of hours, but a girl as amazing and stunning as you are deserves better.” She side-eyed Naomi, watching if that was doing anything.

“Flattery will get you nowhere.” Naomi answered, but her words didn’t match her face. Her cheeks were a shade deeper and her eyes was mesmerized with Ivy’s lips, and Ivy let the side of her lips curl just the tiniest bit upwards.

“It’s not flattery when it’s true.” She merely shrugged. “But I’ll do you one better.”

“Oh yeah?” Naomi raised an eyebrow.

It wasn’t like most of their conversations. She and Naomi mainly kept it professional, probably because any kind of romantic relationship between them could either put the other in danger, and the circumstances were always inappropriate (How do you flirt with the deputy that was sent to investigate your best friend’s disappearance on her wedding day? Pro tip: You don’t.)

So besides opening up to her in the cabin in the rain, and cuddling a little, they didn’t really have any chances to openly flirt, like right now.

Maybe it was also the late/early hour of the night. 4 am always brought out a different side in people.

“But it’s gonna be cheesy as hell.” Ivy warned beforehand.

“Hit me with the best you’ve got.” Naomi assured.

“Look, I’m not a photographer, but I can picture me and you together.” Ivy winked, almost bursting into laughter even as she said it herself.

Naomi snorted at her, but joined in the laughter anyway.

“Did the sun come out or did you just smile at me?” Naomi suddenly asked, and it took Ivy a split of a second to realize she’d just rolled with her. She immediately started giggling again, and shifted closer to Naomi, resting her head against her shoulder as they both rolled in a wave of laughter.

“Do you know what material this shirt’s made of?” Ivy asked, batting an eye. Naomi could see the next line coming but she still looked over to Ivy in curiosity. “Girlfriend material,” Ivy winked at her.

Naomi shook her head, unimpressed, but the smile never left her face.

Their giggling probably could’ve been heard all through the street, but neither cared.

“That last one was really lame.” Naomi noted. “I thought you said you were gonna do better,” She pointed out.

“Yeah, but it still made you smile,” Ivy pointed with her finger to Naomi’s lips. “So I’d consider i’m winning either way.”

Naomi shrugged. “Maybe so.” She locked her eyes with Ivy’s again, and suddenly both of them realized how close they were.

Ivy studied Naomi’s face closely. Her smile was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. She was struck by awe, at how beautiful Naomi looked. She was actually breathtaking. Ivy’s heart grew twice it’s size, knowing she was the reason Naomi was smiling in the first place, and she felt her cheeks grow warmer.

She looked into Naomi’s chocolate brown eyes, feeling like she could drawn in them. Naomi’s eyes were half-closed, maybe from the exhaustion or the fact they were practically drawn to each other, right now. Maybe it was both.

Finally, Ivy followed Naomi’s gaze, as she realized Naomi was looking down over to her lips.

Without hesitating, they both leaned in and their lips met in a kiss. It felt like two worlds clashing together, somehow perfectly fitting with each other.

It was sloppy and messy, their exhaustion finally kicking in and washing over them, but it still managed to be really good.

Ivy felt a warm feeling spreading through her chest, sending shivers down her spine, as her lips moved with Naomi’s. Ivy could feel Naomi smiling into the kiss, before they finally pulled apart, resting their foreheads together.

“I know the girlfriend part might’ve been way too early, but how about a date?” Ivy was the one to speak up, sparks in her eyes as she watched Naomi.

Naomi raised her hand to caress Ivy’s cheek, and Ivy blushed under her touch.

Naomi managed to have a strong grip but a gentle touch. Ivy felt like Naomi could break anything any moment she wanted to, yet her fingers were so soft as they grazed her face and she blushed even deeper.

“Sound’s perfect.” Naomi said, giving another light peck to Ivy’s lips.

“Although I think we could both use a good night’s sleep before that.” She said, breaking away from Ivy.

Her own cheeks gave away the faintest shade of crimson, and Ivy was glad she wasn’t the only one who was flustered.

Taking a moment to assess their situation, Ivy looked back into her room.

“You... Could stay here, if you wanted.” She suggested. “Don’t worry, we’d both go to sleep. Just... Together?” She immediately added, biting at her lower lip and beaming at Naomi.

“I wasn’t worried.” Naomi smirked as she rose to her feet, helping Ivy up with her.

They both got back in and settled in Ivy’s bed. Ivy was still in her PJ’s and she lent something for Naomi to wear as well.

The look of Ivy’s shirt over Naomi’s body was a good look, and if sleep wasn’t washing over her she might’ve responded to the growing heated sensation in the lower part of her stomach.

As Naomi laid beside her, Ivy shifted closer, cuddling into Naomi’s shoulder. Naomi’s hands wrapped around her and Ivy nestled in the crook of her neck, murmuring contently.

“G’night... Beautiful.” Naomi sounded a bit nervous but also determined, and Ivy couldn’t help but tease.

“See? My pick-up lines weren’t that bad.” She said, not bothering to open her eyes.

“Shut up!” Naomi called out, as she chuckled, running soothing circles over Ivy’s back.

Soon, sleep was about to wash over the both of them. Just before she drifted away to sleep, Ivy hooked an arm over Naomi’s body, mumbling. “Goodnight, beautiful.”

#playchoices #veil of secrets #naomi sliverhawk #naomi x mc #playchoices fanfic #vos #my writing #fanfic #naomi x f!mc

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mysterybustershq · 7 years ago

Text

cristian’s birthday » event.

we forgot to post it so here it is!

kimi

kimberly didn’t want to be here. while she was fully in support of celebrating the birth of a god, she knew the chances of spending any time alone with him were slim to none. she watched as the mysterybusters tolerated each other, leaning against the wall with her phone in hand. she was considering faking an excuse to leave, but the idea of leaving without saying anything to cristian was too much. but she couldn’t talk to him directly. struck with an idea, she pushed off of the wall. “hey, guys,” she called, loud enough to get their attention. “who’s up for a game?”

isaiah

isaiah had been talking to ashley, when of course kimi interrupted, by calling out about wanting to play a game. isaiah couldn’t help but already get a bad feeling about said game, whatever it may be. he still didnt feel entirely right about being at a party since gina, and he honestly didn’t care about cristian or his birthday (in fact, he couldnt think of something worse to celebrate). but ashley had wanted to come, so of course… isaiah had too. isaiah took a sip from his bottle of beer, glancing around. “what kinda game? you sound like the guy from saw when you say that.”

blair (rip!)

“i’m sorry i didn’t know we were all in middle school,” blair speaks up from her spot in the room, eyeing everyone. she didn’t want to be here, celebrating the birthday of her best friend’s ex who, by the way, had cheated on her. it felt wrong but blair hated being left out of things and damaris was here too so that made it more tolerable.

julian

truthfully, the only reason julian tagged along with kimi was to make sure she didn’t end up sleeping with the birthday boy by the end of the night. he sat with a half-empty beer bottle, waiting for someone to pick a game. “spin the bottle is not happening.”

bryce

“but spin the bottle would be so fun!” bryce replied, his words slurred as he finished off his beer- tossing the can over his shoulder. lately he had been drinking more than usual but he didn’t care- it was relaxing.

vanessa

“we have enough drama without whatever spin the bottle would bring.” vanessa deadpanned, eyeing everyone in the group and lingering a little on bryce with a degree of exasperation, not quite able to believe her ears. like they needed THAT on top of everything else. on the other hand… “we could break out the ouija board,” was her suggestion, said with a small shrug as she sat back in her chair, “see if anyone wants to give some birthday wishes from the other side.”

sofia

sofia took a sip of her beer. she was happy to be at crisitian’s party, even if some of the other were not. she grinned when vanessa mentioned the ouija board, nodding. “ouija board? i’m totally down.”

daniel (rip!)

“absolutely not,” daniel said immediately, before the rest of the group got too behind the idea. it was the weekend; it was a party, they needed one night where they were just normal kids without all of the ghost bullshit. “no ouija board. what game do you guys wanna play?”

isaiah

isaiah held up his hands. “no. no. no board.” he said, exasperated, as he so often was whenever vanessa spoke. “i hate to agree with daniel. ” in fact, he hated daniel in general

bryce

reaching for a new beer can, bryce began to chant ouija board over and over again- not really stopping to think that, he wouldn’t enjoy that.

naomi

“yeah, no board. that’s why weird shit always happens to us— we fuck with the dead too much.” naomi commented, as if her opinion mattered. “let’s just play something dumb like truth or dare… or pictionary! better yet, let the birthday boy choose.”

cristian

“uh, yeah, that’s a big no,” cristian exclaimed, following along with the others’ protests, before he sipped the drink in his hand. he had been trying for so long to fight the demon on his back, using a ouija board at his birthday party would just be asking for it. could he just have a day where it wasn’t brought up ? upon hearing naomi’s suggestion, cristian shrugged. “i don’t really care. just something that doesn’t get in the way of me drinking.” his focus went back to the drink in his hand, but their blank stares egged him on, forcing him to speak up again a bit reluctantly. “or . . truth or dare, i guess? that sounds as good as anything.” he shrugged again, nonchalantly.

naomi

“truth or dare it is! who goes first?” naomi looks around at the group, raising her eyebrows. “that’s how it goes, right? i haven’t played this game in so long i literally forgot how to play it. well not forgot but just very iffy on how it’s supposed to be played.” this was the first time since the halloween party since naomi had been excited to have some real, non-threatning fun. no ghosts or demons, just her and her friends.

bryce

“i want to go first!” bryce cried as soon as he heard that they’d settled on truth or dare, nearly falling off of the couch in the process. he loved truth or dare- or well, he loved games.

isaiah

isaiah pinched the bridge of his nose, taking another long drag of his beer before deciding to just go with this inevitable disaster for now. he glanced over to where damaris was, and patted the spot next to him, for her to come sit. “i haven’t played truth or dare in like 80 years.”

blair

blair takes damaris’ hand and drags her to where everyone else is, sitting on the other side of her brother. “you ask someone truth or dare, if they answer truth then you ask them a question and if they answer with dare then you dare them to do something. not that hard… idiots,” she mumbles the last part, “so okay, i’ll ask bryce. truth or dare?”

bryce

“oh oh oh,” bryce responded, his eyes lighting up in excitement as he looked at naomi. he was so excited that was getting to start- this was just amazing, his dream come true. “uh- dare! wait no truth,” he responded, “wait no dare! okay that’s my final answer!”

damaris

damaris didn’t really care what they did, or where she was, so long as they could have just One quiet night. getting pulled around by blair was all well and good provided that it was done in a calm environment, though she was considerably happier when she was able to sit in place beside isaiah - best friend one side and about the only person in the group she felt happy and safe around, at this point, on the other. she watched bryce try choose with only vague interest, murmuring to isaiah as he struggled, “to think we coulda been finishing brooklyn 99 instead of being here.”

blair

“i dare you to… not say anything for the next three rounds. vanessa and naomi are already here, we don’t need another chatterbox in the group.” blair flashes him a fake smile, “who’s next?”

sofia

“oh, that’s such a lame dare!” sofia protested, shooting blair a look. “truth or dare is already less exciting than the ouija board, don’t make it stupid.”

bryce

a frown spread across bryce’s face as he heard blair’s comment, “b-but,” he stammered as he slowly sunk back on the couch, his arms folded across his chest. this sucked. blair was mean.

isaiah

isaiah couldn’t help barking out a small laugh at blairs ‘dare’. “alright. anyways. moving on.” isaiah said, wondering how he always ended up being the one moderating this. “somebody ask blair, or whatever. im getting another drink. anyone want one?”

alex

alex said plainly next to sofia, a smile resting lightly on her face, for once in her life content to be quiet ― half out of general distaste on being called on. “cariña, chill out, it’s not… that bad,” she told her friend. “i mean, truth or dare? not good. but not… that bad.”

naomi

naomi wasn’t even phased by her comment, “i— okay go off i guess…” she shoots bryce a sympathetic smile, looking at isaiah. “i’d like one if you don’t mind!”

julian

“yes,” julian called out, taking isaiah up on his offer. he hadn’t finished his, but worked quickly, chugging the last of it down. “bryce can’t even ask the next person,” he laughed, realizing that the game was now stopped. “who’s next?”

damaris

“do you want a hand?” damaris asked after two people had piled onto his offer, taking any opportunity to exit the game she didn’t have much desire to take part in.

isaiah

isaiah nodded, pointing to naomi and julian to show he’d get their drinks before looking at damaris. she definitely looked like she needed a drink. “i’ll get you one too.” he said, already shuffling off to the kitchen to see what he could grab up. he looked back as damaris called out, and hesitated, before realising she probably just wanted out. “uh yeah, sure. i can’t carry all these drinks myself.” he lied, with a nod.

sofia

sofia made a face and took another sip of her drink. "still–you know what? tonight’s for cristian. this is what he wanted.“ there was something about alex’s use of cariña that made her heart melt a little, but she ignored that feeling for now. "i’ll go next. somebody ask me?”

blair

blair smirked at everyone’s reactions and leaned back on her hands, waiting for someone to go. “okay! uh… truth or dare sof?” naomi spoke up, hoping to lighten the mood after the rude dare blair had given bryce.

damaris

“don’t want you spilling any!” she was already up and off her feet, stepping carefully around everyone else to join him in the search for more drinks, and more than happy to have even the briefest of escapes. “you as big a fan of the game as i am?” she asked him with a smile as she joined him in the kitchen, naomi’s voice carrying through from the other room. the sarcasm to it was obvious.

sofia

“dare,” sofia replied, leaning towards naomi expectantly, smiling. “always dare.”

naomi

“hm…” naomi tried to think of something good before an idea popped into her head. “i dare you to prank call nathan and act like you’re asking for a booty call.” she clapped her hands together excitedly, proud of herself for thinking that up.

isaiah

isaiah chuckled at damaris’ clear sarcasm. “yeah, i mean … if it makes the others happy, i guess we can both mutually suffer.” he nudged her gently. “plus side is, if we’re gone long enough i doubt anyone will even notice. i doubt we were prime truth or darers anyways.” he joked. he glanced around the kitchen before finding a stray bottle of vodka. “here, let me make you a cocktail. it’ll be good. promise.”

sofia

sofia laughed. “easy.” she pulled her phone out of her pocket, flipping through it for a moment to search for nathan’s number. “let’s see…ah, got it!” she put it up to her ear, finishing off the end of the beer as it rang on the other line. “nathan? it’s me, sofia. i was feeling really lonely, and i started thinking about you, and how guys in sweaters are just super sexy. and i know i complain about you telling me what to do all the time, but i can think of one place where i’d be happy to let you…call me back.”

julian

julian sat with his head in his hands, really hoping that isaiah would be coming back with another beer soon. or a gun.

damaris

“so long as my suffering doesn’t become me having to do one of blair’s dares… or truths. they’re probably just as bad,” she chuckled, softly, her affection for the friend she’d left sat inside obvious as her distaste for everything, as a whole. “i don’t know about you not being a prime candidate for it all, though- at least… two of the girls in there, wouldn’t mind getting dared to 7 minutes in heaven with you,” she teased, knowing he was a taken fella ( side eyes at verena ), and also knowing the group. if they had eyes, then they’d thought about isaiah in that way. she grinned and nodded, happily, trusting him totally with whatever it was he was about to make. “i’ll get julian and all their not-amazing-and-specially-made-by-isaiah-maxwell drinks, while you do!”

isaiah

isaiah couldn’t help grinning, as he so often did, just around damaris. he couldn’t help looking at her, even leaning in closer to drop his voice, in faux-flirtatiousness. “what about any of the girls in here?” he couldn’t help tease, before straightening back up, still grinning. “well, know that if i get to pick someone for truth or dare- you’re my prime candidate.” he wasn’t even joking either, he liked doing dumb stuff to and for damaris. he nodded, chuckling. “good idea. now what are you in the mood for? something strong, fruity, sweet, orr… ?” he asked, already grabbing up a few other bottles and inspecting them

nate

Nathan (who was enjoying a glass of wine he got in the clearance basket of Bottle King) was interrupted by the sound of his voicemail inbox pinging. He opened the message, listened, and promptly put his drink down to text the girl back. He had already gone into uncharted territory by going balls deep into Ash, he certainly was not going to try and frickle frack Julian’s cousin.

sofia

sofia blinked in surprise as his quick response. "oh my god,” she said, tilting her phone screen to show alex what nathan had said. she wasn’t that worried about it. who cares what the babysitter thought of her? she sent him a text back and she laughed, shaking her head. “he’s not gonna be able to look me in the eye on monday. amazing–okay, who’s next?”

damaris

she couldn’t even help it- she let out what could only be called a hoot of quiet laughter, struggling to try and sober herself for a play along and a, “oh, i’d definitely be the third girl,” before dissolving into her giggles for a minute. it was absolutely true that she’d once had a tiny ( maybe not so tiny ) crush on the boy before her, and back when he was a relative stranger, she certainly wouldn’t have minded being dared to anything with isaiah - but he was so much MORE to her than just someone nice to look at. he’d maybe become her best friend in the time they’d been rooming together ( sorry blair ) and that was, as they say, that. “consider yourself mine too,” she managed, finally, her mood well and truly upped as she moved about the kitchen, making the others some basic drinks, “why don’t you surprise me? anything isaiah maxwell approved is good by me.” and for once, she really wasn’t saying that to be her eager to please, always-willing-to-let-others-take-the-easy-route self - she trusted him, without rhyme nor reason.

naomi

“good job, sofia. didn’t think you’d go through with it.” naomi crosses her legs and rests her head on daniel’s shoulder. “you can ask anyone in the group now.” she answers.

blair

blair glares at naomi and daniel but says nothing, looking away and waiting for someone to hurry up and ask something so they can finish the dumb game.

isaiah

isaiah grinned, even bigger, as he got the desired reaction from damaris. he had to admit - he had fun with the girl. even when they were doing nothing. she was just so easy to talk to. “stop, you’ll flatter me. i might even blush, mari.” he said playfully. "damaris lennox wanting me? wait til the rest of the lacrosse team hears. they’ll lose their shit. .also, blairs truth or dares arent that bad. she .. as a whole actually … i dont know. shes different, kinda.“ he shrugged, not knowing how to explain it. "kinda feels like we’re actually family these days instead of two people arguing over a credit card.” he added, as a joke. isaiah glanced over at damaris once again, before nodding slowly. “sure.” isaiah said, already putting way too much vodka in the drink because he hadn’t seen damaris have fun in ages. he even carefully lined the rim of the drink with sugar crystals, to give her the full cocktail experience. “and you gotta drink the whole thing!” he added, hoping she hadn’t seen how much vodka he’d put in

daniel

as naomi rested her head on his shoulder, daniel was overcome with a wave of affection, not just for naomi but for the whole team. it made him so happy to see them all getting along (kind of). he wrapped his arms around the girls on either side of him, pulling both naomi and ashley closer. “sof, who’re you asking?”

sofia

“me? not go through with a dare? who do you think i am?” sofia scanned the group around her, tapping her finger on her chin as she considered her options. she raised an eyebrow at daniel, then crossed her arms. “since you interrupted my thinking, daniel: truth or dare?”

daniel

daniel raised his eyebrows and nodded as sofia spoke. “dare,” he answered, not wanting to risk any questions about him and naomi.

sofia

“alright. dare it is. i dare you…” she trailed off, leaving a dramatic pause. in truth, she was trying to find something to get him to do. “uh…take off your shirt. for the rest of the game. y'know. for science.”

damaris

“no one will ever believe you,” she replied with an easy smile, pausing in the pouring of julian’s drink to look over her shoulder at him, “and if i’m asked, i’ll play dumb.” ( writers note: “she’d watched ashley so much, it wouldn’t be hard” would be included here, if damaris was that Type of Character ). “blair’s not bad. not really,” was her swift response, her need to gas up the other girl at a time where it seemed almost right to, too much. it was nice to hear that they were getting on better - it’d always felt like she was friends with blair and then, separately, friends with her brother, and it wasn’t hard to see from either side the divide that had sort of existed there. “i’m glad to hear that,” she said, very genuinely, “i know she cares. about you, i mean- she cares about a lot of people, and things, more than she ever really lets on. it’s good that you two are doing better.” and then, because that was sappy and i, as a writer, shy from anything remotely so, she moved on again. “oof, the whole thing?” she was a little skeptic, of course, but always willing. “i promise i will, soon as we’ve got these back to the others- if they haven’t forgotten, they’re probably wondering what’s taking so long!”

julian

“maris! beers?!” he needed another before daniel’s shirt came off. for sure.

sofia

“ooh, bring me one too!” sofia called, waving her empty beer bottle in the air.

alex

alex pointedly looked away from sofia, nope, nope nope, that is NOT my friend she thought at a giggly loop. she also avoided looking at daniel (lest she not be able to look away) as she completely downed the rest of her drink. “do we have any more wine?!?” she called out towards them.

daniel

“alright, alright,” daniel said with a laugh. removing his arms from the girls’ shoulders, he used his newly freed hands to pull his shirt off. dropping it in ashley’s lap, his eyes scanned the room, deciding who to ask. “alex. truth or dare?”

alex

alex slowly dragged her eyes towards him, “you need jesus,” she murmured to herself. half the idea of not talking was not getting called on, and yet here she was, talking and getting called on. fucking god. “… truth. if i MUST, you profound scoundrel.”

daniel

“truth. truth, truth, truth, truth, truth,” daniel said, tapping his finger tips together mischievously as he considered what he could ask alex. “alright.” his eyes lit up as he decided, shooting her a smile. “are you and sof hooking up?”

isaiah

as more people called out for drinks now, isaiah realised they had been gone for a while. “shit. looks like people are missing us. julian seems to be missing you.” isaiah wiggled his eyebrows. “maybe you and julian could date. think of that! my two best buds. plus, julians handsome. and sweet.” isaiah couldnt help but always want to set up damaris with ANYONE so long as she stayed away from that demon (cristian). isaiah smiled then, warmly, because as always- damaris was just kind, and always willing to talk to him about anything, any time. “yeah, i agree. i mean.. i know she puts on this .. act. or show. but she’s not always like that. and its good to be reminded of that sometimes.” isaiah said, “you’re a really good friend, mari. not just to me.” isaiah poured lemonade now, as well as a splash of orange juice, and cranberry juice. he rummaged for a second, before topping the drink off with an umbrella. “ta daaaaa!” he presented the bright red drink to her. “WE’LL BE THERE IN A SEC!” isaiah called out, as he heard more people wonder about the drinks. “okay, how’d you go? find beer and wine and whatnot? gotta keep the people happy, huh?”

alex

alex slapped her hand on her knee, cheeks heating up at an absurdly quick rate and, with all her being, avoiding even thinking about sofia, looking at sofia, or answering that question. “DARE! i mean dare!” she coped out, like the coward her momma raised her to be. “dare!” where was that wine????

blair

“do you even know how the game works?” blair looks at alex, “you can’t change it once you’ve said it. now answer his question.”

sofia

sofia’s eyes widened, and she felt her face turning pink. she fell uncharacteristically silent. she stared at her empty beer bottle, as if she could will more alcohol into existence.

alex

alex decided to glare at blair firstly, and then turn to daniel. she went with her same flair, and replied evenly, “wouldn’t you just love that?” with that, she kissed sofia harshly on the cheek, leaving a dark red stain, before standing, “i have to use the ladies room!”

ashley

“wait!” ashley called out, not picking up on the awkward tension. “before you pee, ask someone else.”

alex

she, quite commonly, stomped her foot - way for ash to ruin a dramatic exit. “uh, you, go, my young padawan. t or d?” with that she continued her way out.

damaris

“his drink. he’s missing his drink,” she corrected, very, very quick to respond to isaiah’s matchmaking ( which was sweet, but very much unneccessory - in a way that was a very 'reality star after her 5th breakup of the year, in february’ way, she had long since resigned herself to a period of lonesomeness in aid of 'finding herself’, and it was going very well, she’d have you know ), “i think julian has eyes on someone else, 'zay. but he is very sweet, and definitely the top notch kinda guy i’ll look for some time in the future.” they were having such a wholesome moment, it was very easy forget that they’d left the main party for a REASON, and everyone elses shouts really put a damper on the wholesomeness. maris smiled back at him, kindly, taking the compliment that she was sure she didn’t deserve ( she hadn’t been a great friend of late to ANYONE, but it was nice he thought so ), maris very gratefully took her own drink from him with a 'thank you, isaiah. for everything! not just the drink.’ another smile ( because as a writer, i feel i haven’t yet exhausted my 'she smiled’’s), and grabbed what she could for the others that were yelling. “you grab that wine-” she nodded her head towards the bottle on the top, “and i’ll bring the beers-” they were already in her arms, and she finally made her way back through the door, handing off the nearest one to whoever it was close by.

ashley

“dare.” ashley answered, before leaning over to daniel. “what’s a padawan? should i be offended?” she whispered.

sofia

sofia stood statue-still, watching alex as she stood up with wide eyes. if this were a cartoon, she probably would have little hearts flying around her head. she un-froze, reaching up and touching her cheek lightly before clearing her throat. she made a point to not look at julian. or anyone else. “ISAIAH. BEER. PLEASE.”

bryce

Bryce had honestly lost track of how many rounds it had been- but he was still silent, instead choosing to spend his time throwing things at Micah.

naomi

“it’s something from star wars, i think.” naomi hears ashley’s question and decides to answer before daniel does, “i don’t know. nerd shit.”

micah

micah swatted the object from the air, sticking his tongue out at bryce. he wasn’t paying attention to anyone here, but he was very focused on not being hit.

kimi

“it’s from star wars,” kimi supplied, watching the two idiots, with her most pleasant voice. was it time for her to go yet? “actually, um, i think i left something in my car, is it cool if i step out to get it?” and never come back?

ashley

“ooooooooh,” ashley nodded, drawing out the word in exaggerated understanding. “i hope it’s not that ugly bear guy.” shrugging it off, she turned back to the rest of the group. “someone dare me.” alex had left, and ashley was too impatient to let the game stall.

cristian

cristian continues drinking, not keeping track of how much, already starting to feel a bit tipsy as he listened on with a curious brow., things getting a bit interesting.

isaiah

it had been hard of late, for isaiah to talk to damaris. she’d been distant, or just unaviailable since the halloween party. isaiah hadn’t felt like they were them for a while. until now. “julian has his eyes on someone?” isaiah couldn’t help repeating, surprised. julian hadn’t ever said anything to him. “you know.. i have a few guys on the lacrosse team. just say the word and you know they’d line up for you. court you even. it’d be like an episode of the bachelorette.” isaiah paused. “not that i watch that.” he added. fake bitch. he smiled, pleased when damaris took the drink. sofia joining in the yelling now. with a small sigh, he turned back, walking with damaris into the room. ( enter gif from community of troy entering with pizza and the place is on fire). “what the… where’d daniel’s shirt go? where’s alex?” he handed the drinks off to julian and sofia and naomi and whoever tf else wanted one. “you guys are all so damn impatient.” he said, with a shake of his head, sitting back down with them though.

julian

happily taking the next beer, julian popped it open, taking a good swig before pointing to ashley. “i dare you to watch a single star wars movie. once in your life,” he said, jokingly, laughing.

sofia

sofia opened her drink up and took a sip as quickly as she could, then headed over and sat next to cristian. there was still a giant lipstick stain on her face. “fuck this game, man,” she mumbled. she looked over at him, leaning forward and resting her chin in her hand. “are you having fun? it’s your party, after all.”

ashley

“i can’t do that,” ashley shook her head. “they look bad. okay, who hasn’t gone yet?” her eyes settled on the person that had dared her. “julian! truth or dare?”

isaiah

isaiah’s eyebrows raised, unsure as to why they asked julian how he felt about verena. this game was making less and less sense to him. “julian, do you ever pick dare?” isaiah couldnt help asking, genuinely curious.

sofia

“ah, well,” sofia replied with a shrug. “there’s always next year. and the year after that. and the year after that. and the year after…well, y'know.” she hit him softly with the back of her hand, trying in vain to rub the lipstick mark off of her cheek. despite her efforts, she just ended up with a big red mark. “shut up. probably more action than you’ve gotten lately.” she turned to the room, and yelled: “julian never picks dare 'cause he’s a wuss!”

julian

“i pick–” interrupted by sofia, julian frowned. “i do too pick dare! sober julian picks dare. after three beers, julian picks truth.” he raised his beer, taking another swig.

cristian

“the best reporter on the team ?” cristian mocked, glancing at julian with a confused look, finding his answer uninteresting, “weak. we all know you want to bone her, man. just admit it.” he rolled his eyes slightly, shrugging. then, as sofia hit him with the back of her hand, cristian let out a light laugh, which only continued as she tried to wipe the red off her cheek. “ more action than me ? please, ” he poked back smugly, shaking his head.

isaiah

“wait what?” isaiah’s voice was loud, cutting across every other conversation as he looked over at julian and nobody else. “what?” he repeated, and he felt this awful, awful swooping sensation in his stomach. “you… and vee?” isaiah wasn’t sure if it was just cristian being cristian, or if it was true- but isaiah felt terrible suddenly. mainly because he hadn’t thought about vee once that entire night, but also because he truly had never known anything about julian and verena. other then that .. isaiah had to admit he didn’t actually feel … anything, except for surprise.

blair

“yeah… vee your girlfriend. c'mon 'saiah, she and julian have been all heart eyes over each other for months.” blair figured her already knew that but alas.

isaiah

isaiah was nonplussed, “why didn’t anyone tell me ?” he couldn’t help ask finally, still looking at julian for confirmation. “y'all just let me date my best bro’s crush? that’s so uncool of me.”

sofia

“cristian…” sofia said, a warning tone creeping into her voice. she didn’t often find herself in this situation. still, she’d had enough to drink that she couldn’t quite verbalize what she wanted to say. “wait julian, is that true?” she just looked between her cousin and her friend a few times. she scoffed at cristian’s comment. “definitely more action than you. what can i say? the ladies love me.” she was starting to calm down, brush the kiss on the cheek off as a bit. something to tell daniel off. alex didn’t really like her like that…did she?

julian

“i don’t want to–no, hey–” julians voice was drowned out by all the other comments being thrown around. he put his beer to the side, sinking into his seat more, trying to avoid isaiah’s eyes. “he’s just talking shit,” julian said, refering to cristian’s unwanted comment.

bryce

bryce perked up at the sound of his friend’s name, eagerly looking around for her. once he realized that she wasnt there, he sunk back into the couch, as he took a sip of his beer.

isaiah

isaiah still looked unsure, especially because julian wasn’t meeting his eyes. “but blair said it too.” he couldn’t help pointing out, glancing over at cristian briefly. isaiah drank more of his beer down, trying to think of what to say or do now.

blair

“i sure did.” she crosses her arms against her chest and looks over at julian.

cristian

cristian wasn’t even phased. “what?” he declared, looking from julian to sofia and back, unmindful of the sensitive subject he had exposed and not really finding the awkwardness in the situation. “no shame, julian,” he shrugged, “forgot she was your girlfriend though, maxwell. oh well.” his tone came through with a carelessness.

julian

julian chose to ignore cristian, leaving sofia to deal with him. “blair, isn’t it your turn, anyways? come on, back to the game. truth or dare, blair?” he was quick to change the subject.

isaiah

isaiah shot cristian an unimpressed look, before looking back at julian. he still didn’t really want to let this go. “you’d tell me though, right? if you liked her. if you didn’t want me to date her.” isaiah repeated. he didn’t entirely believe julian right now.

blair

“yeah i’m not participating in this game. i only told bryce to shut up to save me from a headache.” blair shrugs her shoulders, "so find another contestant.“

bill nye-12/08/2017

bryce narrowed his eyes, his grip on his can tightening as he heard blair’s comment. sure he was probably being annoying, but did she have to be so mean? her words kind of hurt. "s-shut up blair,” he mumbled

daniel

“i’ll go,” daniel volunteered, just wanting to get the attention off the topic at hand and back on something slightly lighter. “do your worst, vega.”

julian

“yeah, i would tell you, man,” julian said, quietly to isaiah, aside from the group. more drunk than sober, julian really thought he was being convincing. “ah, yeah okay. truth or dare, daniel?”

sofia

“you…are trouble,” sofia said, not un-affectionately. “big trouble. like i said before, fuuuuck this game.” she became very interested in her beer again, then found herself staring at the door alex had left from. at the mention of the name, vega, she started paying attention to the game again. “ha, daniel is getting dared by both vegas.”

daniel

“dare, i guess,” he nodded as sofia made the decision for him.

julian

“you got the first one, i get this one,” he said, pointing over to his cousin. he then looked at daniel, shirtless, and laughed. “i mean, you’re already halfway there. take your pants off, dude. that’s your dare.” julian was desperate for any distraction he could make to turn the focus off of him.

daniel

with a sigh, daniel stood up, undoing his belt and pulling of his jeans, leaving him in just a bair of boxers. “next time i’ll have to pick truth, gotta keep some of my dignity.” his gaze darted around the circle, settling on cris. “birthday boy. truth or dare?”

naomi

naomi’s cheeks reddened as daniel undressed and she made sure to divert her gaze somewhere else to keep herself from drooling. x

bryce

bryce finds himself drawn to daniel, but after a few seconds of staring he adverts his gaze.

cristian

almost forgetting he hadn’t gone, cristian looked up from his drink when daniel called him out and gave the other a bold look, eyes unworried. “dare,” he said as if his response were obvious.

blair

as soon as blair heard daniel call cristian out, she knew what she had to do. “i dare you to tell us who you cheated on damaris with.” at this point, blair does not give (1) fuck about anything.

isaiah

isaiah glanced at damaris, who suddenly looked extremely, extremely sad. he felt a rush of anger, yet again, at cristian, and then looked at blair. “blair… come on, maybe we shouldn’t talk about this.” he couldn’t help putting a protective hand on top of damaris’, offering it a small squeeze and hoping to god they’d change the damn subject

cristian

cristian definitely wasn’t expecting that, his eyes widening as blair finished speaking. he knew that information was bound to get out eventually, but he didn’t think for a second that it’d be like this. part of him wanted to whine and complain about blair’s dare, and maybe it was the alcohol taking over, but he wasn’t the type to just give up defeat. especially when he had just called julian out for not being truthful. cristian gave ashley a subtle, sorry look before speaking, “well, she’s in this room,” he started vaguely, avoiding eye contact with damaris and taking as long as he could to answer the question.

blair

blair glares at naomi.

damaris

in the same way that she had never been able to avert her eyes from horrible events before her, like crashes on the freeway that were impossible not to look at as she drove by, there was some kind of morbid interest in what he had to say. she couldn’t help but WANT to hear the answer she hadn’t had in all the time since, even though her heartbeat was drumming hard and fast and isaiah’s hand on hers, suddenly, was urging her to want anything but. keep the peace. it’d be easy to do, like always - all she had to do was agree with him, shoot down blair’s idea, and let what cristian said fall on deaf ears. let the night go by, without incident. they could have one, NICE night, if she just choked back her words and let someone else change the subject. but she was so sick of it - she was so sick of being nice, and of letting things go by unsaid because she didn’t want to cause a fuss, of letting her feelings fester and mold instead of acting on them. and in spite of better judgement, of knowing that it wouldn’t lead anywhere good, she cleared her throat and said directly to cris, after a long moment had passed, “you don’t see how that’s… worse than not saying anything at all, do you?- because…- because if you hadn’t said THAT, then i wouldn’t be sat here looking at ALL of my so called friends, and wondering if they…- if they were part of ruining what we HAD. instead of just… being honest, and decent, for once in your life, you’re dodging the question, and making everything WORSE, like… like you always do.” a pause, to catch her breath, and then she wa piggy backing on blair’s dare- “who WAS it, cristian?- which one of our friends did you screw on the side?”

isaiah

isaiah kept his eyes on damaris, feeling his own heart twist in pain for her. damaris was the last person who deserved to be treated like this, and seeing her this upset made isaiah want to truly whisk her away, back to the safety of their flat, and watch brooklyn nine nine. suddenly, he really regretted bringing her with him, and playing this dumb game. maybe they should have just stayed in the kitchen. “mari.” he said softly, but he didn’t know what else to say, or do. it was just painful to see her like this. “blair, why’d you have to bring that up?” isaiah couldn’t help adding, before looking over at cristian. “and you’re a real asshole, dude.”

bryce

bryce chewed on his lip as he noticed the tension in the room, his eyes immediately going towards damaris, to see if she was okay. she wasn’t- but he wasn’t sure what much he could do. she probably wouldn’t want his drunkass trying to hug her, so he settled for a small, sympathetic smile.

blair

“why? because i’m tired of having liars and backstabbers in this group.” blair replies, “and damaris doesn’t deserve to have the truth being hid from her. so, cristian, grow some fucking balls and tell us who you slept with.”

ashley

ashley could feel her heart pounding against her chest as cris answered, her eyes dropping to daniel’s shirt that was still in her lap, her fingers wrapping around a loose thread. her heart broke as damaris spoke, knowing how she felt. she didn’t know if cris would say it was her or not, but she didn’t even give him the chance. “it was me,” ashley blurted out, finally looking up and meeting damaris’ eyes. “i’m sorry damaris, i didn’t know you, or even that you existed. i was gonna say something as soon as i found out, but,” her voice trailed off, not wanting to put that blame on cris.

cristian

ashley spoke up before cristian had the chance, his mouth half open as if it were about to speak but then, with the secret coming to light, his face froze at the blonde’s confession. there wasn’t many times in his life where he was left speechless, but he honestly didn’t really know what to say. “yeah, well,” he mumbled to no one in particular, “there ya’ go.” cristian knew it had to be awful for damaris to have to hear that, especially after all this time– but it had to come out eventually, and at this point, there was not much he could do but accept the consequences. his eyes diverted to the floor for a moment before glancing at damaris with a mix of uneasiness and guilt. “i’m uh– sorry too,” he decided to add, nodding awkwardly, his voice low as he dug his teeth into the bottom of his lip, “sorry you had to find out like this.” his jaw clenched stiffly, uneasy with the vulnerability of the situation, but a part of him did actually feel bad.

blair

blair let out a laugh as ashley spoke up. OF COURSE she was the mystery girl. and to top it off, cristian confirmed it. “you’re literally such a moron. why are you on the team? let me guess you spread them open for daniel too.” she glares at naomi and daniel before her gaze is back on ashley, “and the fact that you never told damaris… why? to keep cristian from not talking to you or what? my god you’re like a free for all, ashley. is there anyone you haven’t slept with? i’m sure that list is as small as your brain.”

isaiah

the stilted 'im sorry’ from cristian had isaiah glaring even more so at the boy now. isaiah tried not to groan at ashley’s admission. he closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. couldn’t they all just have one night? one night without this crap? without someone sleeping with someone, or somebody kissing somebody else? isaiah didn’t look at ashley, instead fixing his gaze on cristian. “you’re sorry ? wow, that sounds so genuine dude. and you know what? you’ve totally fixed it. damaris is the nicest girl any of us have ever fuckin’ met and you destroyed her. do you think about that? or anything other then yourself?” isaiah couldn’t help snapping. as blair began speaking, isaiah’s eyes closed once again. “blair” he said, sharply.

blair

blair hummed and pointed to isaiah as he spoke, “he’s right. a half assed sorry isn’t going to fix everything, you fucking idiot.” she rolled her eyes as isaiah said her name, “what, isaiah? you’re mad because ashley’s given it to everyone except you? jesus christ you deserve better than someone who has an open twenty four hours sign in between her legs and knows how to count to four.”

isaiah

“blair, for once in your life: shut the fuck up.” isaiah sniped, “ashley can do whatever she wants, its her fuckin’ body.” his eyes finally went to ashley. “so long as it doesnt hurt people.” but it had. it had destroyed damaris, and neither her or cristian had ever said anything. isaiah knew ashley probably didnt intentionally hurt damaris, but it was still awful news, all around

blair

“how about you—” blair doesn’t reply, instead she gets really quiet and sighs. “fine.” she’ll remember this like a true scorpio.

naomi

as soon as the insults began to leave blair’s lips, naomi went to sit next to ashley and wrapped her arm over her shoulder. “don’t listen to her.” she gives the blonde a reassuring smile. she’s been the target of blair’s wrath before and it was never pretty so the only thing naomi could suggest ashley to do was to just stay quiet.

micah

“fuck off, blair.” it was the first thing micah had said all night. usually, he and blair didn’t butt heads. they were similar, in some ways, and it was why he kind of liked her. but he liked ashley more, and he wasn’t gonna let her be talked about. “it’s her body, and she can do what she wants with it. she doesn’t owe anyone shit.”

cristian

having been initially stunned by it all, cristian was suddenly shot back into reality once blair started to go off. “ hey, hey! no need to attack ashley like that, okay ? just quit it, blair,” he spoke up, his brows drawn in frustration, the intensity of the sitation pushing him to intervene. “ it’s not all on her. i’m definitely more at fault than she is. so just–“ he ran a hand across his face, sighing deeply, evidently annoyed with how shit had gone down hill. cristian rolled his eyes at the maxwells now turning to him with the harsh words, having had enough with people messing in his business. "yes, i’m fucking sorry. what ? i can’t say sorry ?” he spat back, palms out, getting heated, “ i’m well fucking aware that’s it’s not going to fix everything, dude.” eyes narrowed at isaiah. "and i rather not have to explain myself or plead for fucking forgiveness in front of all of you, when there’s really only one person it concerns.“ he took another heavy sigh, his anger rising.

julian

he didn’t want to draw any attention to himself, but julian had reached the bottom of his beer three blair-drags ago. he quickly rose out of his chair and practically ran away to the kitchen.

damaris

she’d been at peace with it. that was the WORST part - damaris had, in one sense of the words, let it go. her heart still ached when she thought back to what they’d lost, and there were times that she had caught herself looking towards cristian with a crushing sort of sadness at what he’d done ( her mind straying more than she’d admit to the other party, and who she was… question now answered ), but she’d done what she could to move on, and it had shown. ask anyone - they were getting on, now, better than ever. if she closed her eyes then and there instead of wasting all her time staring across at cris, eyes tearful, then she could even conjure up the image of him bending his head over the birthday cake she’d made, and hear their easy back and forth. easy. that’s what it had become, to be around him, to talk to him, or at least… what it was getting to. her heart was MENDING and she was better for it - and then blair had brought it up. she knew her friend had, in her heart of hearts, meant well. whatever her motivations, she had, in a way, meant to do good. but the road to hell was paved in good intentions, and knowing that it was ashley - the girl she’d smiled across the room to every morning since she’d joined, the blonde she’d been so HOPING would end up with the very boy who’s hand she now tore her own from, didn’t make it any better. it didn’t make her feel RELIEVED, to know, and to not have to look at naomi, and kimberly, and vanessa, and the others, and wonder who it was. no - knowing didn’t make ANYTHING better. it just brought it all back again, everything she’d felt when it had first happened. it reopened the wound she’d managed to close, and standing up, damaris was done. she’d gotten what she wanted and she was DONE, with cristian, with ashley, with the whole entire group of people who had until then been sat around celebrating her ex boyfriends birthday."thank you, for your apologies,” her words were stiff and stilted, the lack of emotion behind them startling considering that at current moment, her hands were shaking violently and her heart seemed fit to burst from her chest, “they mean a lot.” they didn’t. it was obvious, they didn’t, but she didn’t care. damaris’ gaze leveled with blair, and she added before anything more could be said, “don’t, blair. DON’T DO THAT. i…- i- you being nasty is just… it’s so uncalled for, right now. don’t pick on her, and insult her, and… and belittle her choices, because you think you’re standing up for me, because you’re NOT. nothing you just said to ashley has made me feel ANY better, and nothing else that comes out of your mouth WILL, so for once just shut up, and stay out of it.” it hurt her, to be so blunt to blair, but it was so important for her to know - for her to let her know, that ripping into another girl didn’t make damaris feel any better at current moment. it took two to tango. they could say all they wanted about ashley, and cristian, but it didnt’ change what they’d done, and it didn’t help. what would help, she knew, was getting herself out of a situation that was making it difficult for her to breathe - and with one final look around ( mostly for dramatic effect by me ), damaris carefully stepped around them all, and made her much needed exit with a softly spoken, “night.” over her shoulder.

ashley

ashley nodded, leaning into naomi’s touch. she wasn’t planning on saying anything; what could she say? blair was right, except for the sleeping with daniel part. and blair should be defending her friend. she shot both micah, cris, and isaiah a small smile, thanking them for defending her.

blair

“oh you guys don’t piss cristian off too much because then he’s going to go off on another killing spree and blame it on the ghosts!” she says sarcastically, still not over the silverwood thing. however as damaris started talking and directed all that attitude at her, blair had just about enough. “oh whatever damaris. i’m tired of you acting like such a weak and soft person and for what? only to be walked all over? cheated on? you’re a mess and trust me when i say that i don’t want to get involved with you or your dumbass drama again. so consider me staying out of it, forever.” she glares at damaris as she leaves and waits a few minutes before gathering her things and leaving as well.

isaiah

there was a beat of silence after damaris spoke, and then stood and walked away. isaiah was speechless. he’d known damaris for a while now and he’d never, ever, ever seen her so heartbroken. he’d never seen her look so destroyed and upset, and he couldn’t help it. isaiah’s attention turned back to cristian, as he stood up now too. “mari-” he called out, knowing it was too late and she’d gone. she probably needed alone time, but that didn’t mean isaiah couldn’t at least try. he turned, to face cristian properly, his palms balling into fists as he glared at the stupid male. “man, you aren’t trying to fuckin’ fix anything. stop pretending like you have some redeeming quality to you, the only reason half of us are here is because of the free alcohol. nobody gives a shit its your birthday because nobody gives a shit about you.” isaiah couldn’t stop, he was on a roll as he walked right over to cristian, for no discernible reason. he thought of this asshole with slimy gross hands touching ashley of all people, and that was what pushed him over the edge. isaiah didn’t realise he’d lifted his arm until it was too late, and then … he was punching cristian right across the jaw.

naomi

“daniel put your clothes on you look like an imbecile.” naomi mutters, grabbing the shirt from ashley’s lap and throwing it in his direction. “you wanna go get something to drink? i know julian’s in the kitchen!”

julian

even though he had ran away, julian kept an ear to the room where the team was, hearing mostly everything that was being yelled at each other. it wasn’t until he heard the sound of the fight beginning that he actually did anything about it. “whoa!” he called out, rushing out of the kitchen. “two fucking seconds–god dammit,” he muttered, looking to daniel. “ah, you get cris?” he said, figuring he would grab isaiah.

cristian

“oh, fucking save it, ma–” cristian started to say, waving off isaiah who was now standing above him, but before he could even finish his sentance, he felt a heated force collide with the side of his jaw, sending cristian through a whiplash of emotions. and just like that, that was all it took. as cristian brought his head back to look isaiah square in the face with such irritation, he almost wanted to laugh. “wrong move, maxwell,” he hissed between his teeth, still soaking up the pain of the punch to the face. it was as if he had been waiting so long for this moment. all the tension and hate had finally built up between the two, and it was all coming to light. almost immediately following, cristian got up with the same force as isaiah had and immediately reciprocated the other’s punch, his body clashing with his opponent’s as the two began to entangle themselves in a brawl.

daniel

daniel had just finished putting his clothes back on and was already on his way over to isaiah and cris when julian returned. he nodded silently at him, moving over to cris as quickly as he could, but was a few seconds too late. flinching as cris threw a punch, daniel gabbed on to him and tried to pull him off of isaiah. “dude, c'mon. let it go. you guys are even now.” couldn’t they just have one night?

julian

julian entered into the fray at the same time daniel did, pulling isaiah back away from cristian, trying not to get hit himself. “you’ve made your fucking points,” he groaned.

micah

“shit. cris, dude–” he tried to grab his best friend, in hopes of pulling him off of isaiah. while micah liked isaiah, and had the confidence that he could take just about anyone else, cristian would eat him alive. “dude, stop. both of you.”

vanessa

“Well,” from her place sat in the corner, clutching her drink like she’d just been on a wild rollercoaster and had to keep it safe ( which is what the past ten minutes had felt like ), Nessa let out a low whistle under her breath announcing to them all, “Your display of testosterone is really, really cool and all- really, I think Naom.. some very eager beaver might just PEE herself … or himself, with all these hot men bickering right in front of her, or him, but- maybe you should both ask yourselves very carefully, 'does it solve anything to punch my foe again and again’? And if the answer is no, then.. don’t.” She paused, considered, and then clarified ( though she didn’t expect her words to do any kind of good ), “this isn’t a test, the answer is very much NO, so quit it and drink your problems away like normal people.”

kimi

kimberly… well, she planned on leaving. and she wanted to, really. then the game got interesting, and she wasn’t the type to miss a good show. it wasn’t like she didn’t already know cristian and ashley were fucking. it was how she and cristian met, really. but she did feel a sting in her chest, having to hear it announced to the whole group. she hated it. but, apparently, not as much as everyone else. she sat back and watched as the group imploded. she wasn’t surprised by that either; any “pure, wholesome night of good, pure fun” was bound to be ruined by either ashley’s stupidity or someone else’s big, fat mouth. (or lana’s dramatic ass passing out. whatever.) as fun as that was to watch, nothing quite compared to watching cristian attack isaiah. she bit her lower lip, suppressing a smile. oh, she’d be having good dreams tonight. she listened to what nessa said, giving her a small fraction of her attention, as her eyes followed cristian’s form. “drinks would be good,” she commented in response to vanessa. her voice might’ve been a little high pitched, but she could blame that on nerves. and not the fact that this fight was turning her on a little.

cristian

chest heaving with adrenaline, cristian eventually allowed himself to be pulled from isaiah, his eyes still rushing with fury as his two friends stopped him. he didn’t say anything – just gave isaiah a dirty look as their fight came to an end, and nodded reluctantly to micah and daniel at his sides, his arms settling. he wasn’t one to give in easily, so his chin still held up superiorly as he turned away.

#event » 005.

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winchesterprincessbride · 8 years ago

Text

Political Animals-Part 11

This is an A/B/O AU. You are the Omega artist daughter of Naomi Novak, a world-class heart surgeon who is running for Mayor of New York City. After a meeting where your mother’s advisers call you a “liability”, she tells you that if you don’t do as your told she will cut you off. You storm out and wind up in a bar a few blocks away.

The hottest Alpha you have EVER laid eyes on with a scent so mouthwatering you’re practically drooling offers to buy you a drink. It’s just a drink, right? What do you have to lose? Only everything.

Characters: Omega! Reader, Beta! Naomi Novak, Alpha! Castiel Novak, Omega! Meg Novak, Claire Novak, Jimmy Novak, Alpha! Sam Winchester, Alpha! Dean Winchester, Alpha! John Winchester, Omega! Jo Harvelle

Big thanks to @moansmisha for letting me use some of her ideas from this post.

Master List

Part 1 (all parts are linked)

Parts in bold are text messages

Our lives became very difficult after the press found out about Sam and me. The paparazzi hounded us everywhere we went. Just as Sam had predicted, the election ceased being about our parents and we suddenly became the topic of conversation.

Of course, my mother used the free publicity to her advantage. She released a statement saying she was totally devastated that her dearest daughter had allowed herself to be taken advantage of by such an unscrupulous Alpha as Sam Winchester. And that she hid my Omega status for my protection.

“This is complete and utter bullshit.” I snapped, grabbing the remote and turning off the TV. “I’ve never been her dearest anything, and she hid my being an Omega because those PR assholes told her to.”

“You need to calm down, Babe. All this stress isn’t good for you or the babies.” Sam said gently, his large hand caressing my belly.

I had been forced to take a leave of absence from the gallery. As soon as I started to show, the press was everywhere. Julian, my friend who owned the gallery felt awful about it, but I understood.

John was constantly being asked questions about our relationship, and he always gave the same answer. “My son is an adult. His relationship has nothing to do with my campaign. Moving on…..”

One extremely stupid reporter had tried to ambush/interview Dean at the garage, and Dean went nuclear on him. He won’t be making that mistake again.They had even shown up at Cas and Meg’s house, and Cas’ practice, and scared a bunch of his young patients. I felt terrible.

Sam’s firm has been forced to hire outside security to keep people out. Lucky for us Sam is one of the firm’s top earners so they haven’t even complained about the expense.

With the complete uproar in our lives, I had stuffed the envelope of pictures and the creepy note in a drawer and totally forgotten to mention it to Sam, he already had enough stuff to deal with. I thought maybe they were from the same person who had tried to blackmail my mother and John. But then he sent another even creepier package, and Sam got to it first.

I was making dinner and Sam was going through the week’s accumulated mail when I heard his sharp intake of breath and then he cursed.

“Do you want to tell me just what the fuck this is, Omega?”

Sam rarely used that tone with me, so I knew he meant business. I immediately turned the chicken off and moved it to the back burner. I dried my hands on a towel and joined him at the table. He had opened a manilla envelope that was mixed in with stuff from his office.

It was a strange mix of items. This time the folded piece of paper read: YOU CAN RUN BUT YOU CAN’T HIDE.

As I flipped through each item, the tight feeling in my chest got worse. There was a picture of me as a child swinging at the playground in Central Park. My father had been pushing me, but my father’s image had been burned from the picture.

Sam’s long fingers moved over the faded newspaper article. It was from the New York Times heralding my mother’s first artificial heart transplant while she was teaching at NYU. She was pictured with some of her surgical team. Over my mother’s image was written LYING WHORE.

I felt sick when I saw the pamphlet from one of my shows at the gallery. On the back under my mini-biography was written my birth date, underlined several times. There was also one of our professionally-done family Christmas cards this one during my awkward adolescence, complete with glasses and braces, but my father’s face had been gouged out with something sharp.

“I need to show you something, Sam. I’ll be right back.”

Sam raised his eyebrow when I handed him the other envelope. I saw his jaw clench when he got to the pictures of us together, and I knew he was trying to stay calm.

“Before you start yelling, this came the day the press showed up on our doorstep. I thought it was someone trying to blackmail us so I blew it off.” I said defensively.

Sam scrubbed his hand over his face. He suddenly looked very tired and very worried. “We need to show this stuff to my Dad, Y/N. I want to see what he thinks. In the meantime, I don’t want you to go anywhere alone. I think you have a stalker.” He stood behind me and put his arms around me. “I’m serious, Y/N.”

“I’m supposed to have lunch with Cas tomorrow. What should I do?“

“I’m gonna call your brother and bring him up to speed on what’s going on. Then I’m going to call my Dad. I’ll be in my office if you need me.” He gathered everything and took it with him, closing the door behind him.

By the time Sam was finished I had dinner ready and waiting. “Cas will pick you up here and bring you back afterward. We are having dinner with Dad and Dean tomorrow to discuss this, okay?”

That night Sam held me close and rubbed my already-swelling belly. “So what kind of wedding do you think you want? Something big and fancy?”

“No! I’ve had enough big and fancy crap with my mother to last me a lifetime. I think I’d like just us. And maybe your Dad, Dean, and Cas. And a party later when I am not so rotund.”

Sam tucked his head into the curve of my neck where he had marked me. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. ” You are beautiful, ‘mega. My Dad is golf buddies with the Mayor. Did you know he can marry people? And by the way…. Your belly full of my pups is just about the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.“ He growled, his voice doing all kinds of things to me.

“So you want to marry me now before I need a crane to get me out of bed, is that what your telling me?” I teased, pressing my lips to his.

“Woman, if you had any idea how freaking amazing you smell when you are pregnant……” Sam groaned.

“I bet I taste even better,” I whispered seductively.

Later Sam agreed I did.

The next day, a solemn Cas came to get me for lunch. I could tell he was worried. “Sam told me about the stuff in the mail.” He said once we were in the car. “Why would anyone target you specifically?” He asked me.

“I haven’t told Sam this yet, but I think it has something to do with Mom.”

Cas was concentrating on driving, but I could tell he was surprised. “Mom? Why do you say that, Y/N?”

I took a deep breath. “There is something I haven’t told you, Castiel.”

He guided the car to the side of the road and stopped. “You’re making me nervous. You only call me Castiel when you’re in trouble.”

“Remember the day Mom and I had our last big fight?” I asked.

“How could I forget? My ears are still ringing.” He joked.

“Mom told me that day that Charles Novak wasn’t my real father. That she’d had an affair with one of her med students when she was at NYU. Dad found out and threatened her with never seeing you again if she didn’t break it off, so she told me anyway.

Cas was silent for a long moment. “Do you believe her?” He asked.

“I don’t know. She told me he died a year later. But Mom said the reason she hates me is that every time she looks at me I remind her of what she gave up. She also lied to me about my trust, Cas She never had control over it, Dad made sure of that. I had full control when I turned 21.”

Cas looked shocked. “I don’t know what to say. She always told me she controlled your trust. I never questioned her.”

“There isn’t anything TO say. I don’t think she and I can come back from this. Not this time. I just needed you to understand why.” A tear slipped unbidden down my cheek.

He nodded solemnly. “I do, Sis. I am so sorry for everything she has put you through.”

After lunch, Cas drove me home and deposited me in Sam’s arms. “Please keep me informed.” He said to Sam before leaving. Sam promised he would.

Lunch with Cas had tired me out, so I took a nap before we went over to John’s. It was rare that he had a night off from campaigning, and I felt bad that he had to entertain us. Jo wasn’t able to be there until later so it was just me and the three Winchester men.

John promised to speak to the Mayor during their Friday golf game about marrying us before he effortlessly slipped back into detective mode. “Is there anyone you can think of who would have a grudge against you, Y/N?” he asked me.

“What? No!” I said adamantly.

“It seems like this person wants her to know he can get to her no matter what,” Dean commented, flipping through the pictures.

“So the envelope of pictures came first?” John asked.

“Yes, but I saw it second because Y/N didn’t tell me about it until later,” Sam commented.

“And this other stuff, what is the connecting thread?” John asked out loud.

I turned to Sam. “I think this has to do with my mother, Sam.”

“Why do you say that, Y/N?” Dean asked.

“My Mom told me recently that Charles Novak wasn’t my real father. I didn’t believe her, I still don’t know if I do, but I think this person is someone from my mother’s past.”

I told them word for word everything my Mom had told me. “I don’t know if any of it is true. My mother consistently lies to me.”

Jo breezed in at that moment from work, all smiles and full of excited chatter at my rounded belly. I needed to talk about something else for a while so I turned to Sam. “Your pups want gelato! Can we walk down to Caruso’s and get some?”

Jo clapped her hands happily. There is a boutique on the way that has the cutest baby stuff! Let’s go look!”

John begged off, saying he had work to do, so the four of us went. Dean was more interested in the gelato than the baby stuff, but he was being a good boyfriend. He casually mentioned he hoped he had two boys so he could teach them about cars and be the “cool uncle”.

The boutique had some really neat things. In the back of the store was a race car bed, and Dean began arguing with Sam over why his son needed a race-car bed. Jo went back to intervene.

I was toward the front of the store looking at a hand-painted piggy bank when I felt a chill down my spine and I looked up. There standing on the curb was a man in a black coat. His eyes were slightly manic. He held up a sign. It said in block letters THEY HAVE BEEN KEEPING ME FROM YOU. Then he turned and crossed the street, disappearing into the throng of people.

“No, wait!” I yelled.

I dropped the bank I was holding and bolted for the door, desperate to catch up with the guy with the sign. It was him. I just knew it! The bank shattered on impact but I kept going.

Sam was already moving in my direction as soon as I spoke, Dean a second later. Jo threw some money at the cashier for the bank. I could just catch a glimpse of the man hurrying through the crowd on the other side of the street. I quickly stepped off the curb and dashed in the street to try and catch him.

I was so intent on not losing sight of the man I never even saw the car. The last thing I heard was Sam scream my name, “Y/N look out!” Then I felt a jolt and pain and everything went black.

Part 12

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wordsfromafangirl · 6 years ago

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Supernatural’s Angels

I have been theorizing about angels. How have we seen them work in Supernatural? First of all, we know they need permission to possess a vessel. They have the ability to bury their human counterpart in some kind of dream-like state. They have the ability to “gank” the human soul within if they so choose. It’s been mentioned that some angels are not so kind to their human hosts, already destroying them once they have said yes, which would seem to negate the need to ask for permission, but I would think that’s just a luck of the draw, I suppose? It would also seem as if Jimmy was not shielded from what happened to him when Cas first possessed him. He explained to Sam and Dean how it felt being shot, stabbed and I think there was something about it feeling like a thousand suns burning inside of you. (??) We’ve also seen that some human souls cannot accept the angel even if they say yes. So not all humans can be a vessel for an angel. We also see permission be negated through archangels like how Sam having struggled against Lucifer and Gadreel then now Dean struggling against Michael.

Exhibit A: Anna.

She ripped her grace from within and fell to Earth. She was then born into a human family, hidden from Heaven it would seem until the seals were breaking. We see that apparently she’s always had a connection to Heaven through angel radio driving the human Anna to the brink. However, that’s the angel breaking to the surface without her grace? Right? Or did I miss that? I thought she was regaining memory before she got her grace back, thus making the grace a part of the angel that only supplies them powers. The healing, the strength etc. It’s been insinuated that if an angel falls from Heaven (except in Lucifer’s case apparently, he was fallen but not without Heaven’s power, did they trick him into the cage, yes, but he never became human until that one time partially...ugh whatever) but I digress. It’s been insinuated that angels will be disconnected from Heaven, especially if they fall entirely (see Cas in The End 5x04). I think Anna only put herself on “mute” if you will. Though, it begs the question if Anna had lived as a human, no grace, no Heaven, would she have molded a soul? Giving her access to Heaven or is she still property to the Empty? She plucked out her grace, it created life (a tree), then plummeted herself to Earth and ended up reborn to a human family. This means that grace and the angel are separate? If the angel so chooses? There are weapons that can trap the angel entirely, holy fire and the egg later on (now destroyed), and it also seems the only weapon that can put them down is the Angel Blade. Therefore, the blade destroys an angel entirely. Or a strong enough demon like Alastair, who almost overpowered Cas in 4x16 until Sam showed up.

For me, it always seemed like a separate thing. There is the grace and a mind of the angel. And if an angel stays human long enough I would like to think it can mold a soul thus gaining access to Heaven like a human.

Exhibit B: Gabriel (an archangel turned Trickster) + other angels

He apparently went to a Russian shaman of sorts for this hiding trick, partially giving up some grace (but not his mind or how he thinks right?). He is still an archangel, but he made himself into a trickster. Was he still using archangel powers? Well, according to Cas in Changing Channels the whole TV land thing was way too powerful, so that must be archangel juice? However, suffice to say Gabriel has been detached from Heaven for far too long? He’s created a persona of the Trickster that as Sam said is into, “wine, women, song, so he wouldn’t want to see the world ended.” I just think there is a difference. Grace is just Heaven’s power, but there is a mind behind the angel because if there isn’t then how would an angel perceive trauma (Cas who also experienced much trauma)? Like for example, Gabriel after being tortured by Asmodeus. Certainly feeling weakened, though, he still had grace, but being physically and mentally abused. He suffered a trauma that again made him walk away from helping the Winchesters. Balthazar before Cas not in his right mind so cruelly ended him, is similar to Gabriel. Hiding out, still tapped into Heaven, turning angel radio on and off, eventually trying to help Cas with his plight in s6 and then the Winchesters, but he still had his own “little corner of the world mapped out” like Gabriel. Sick of Heaven’s shit and they just hid. Maybe not always hidden well. These two though did not decide to “fall” like Anna, therefore I don't think they’d ever have the chance to mold a human soul as she could. Think of Gadreel’s buddy who decided it was best to stick with that human family. He felt right in that body because he actually changed the father. The father was no longer a “bad” man, but he was something better due to the angel and the angel felt he was giving happiness to the mother and daughter. If he gives up his grace he becomes human. But does the personality that seems to be there go too? Anael also fits into this category as a Faith Healer still connected to Heaven by her grace, what does she become if she loses that grace? A human right? Michael insinuated that what she was feeling about her place in the world was human things. So as an angel she tries to comprehend human things, but the body/vessel is not human until the grace is gone. Grace can be taken and stored. Or it can be destroyed (an angel blade). Even Hannah explores what she perceives as human things through Cas. The show I think showing us that she may have developed some sort of angel-like affection towards Cas. But she never actually felt anything truly human until the husband of her vessel found his wife. She then decides to let her vessel go. We see Hannah later in a male vessel sort of saving Castiel from other angels. Hannah seems to treat the human souls gently. Possibly burying them in a dream, but I think the love of the original vessel was so strong it made her want to give back that love to the humans.

Exhibit C: (totally didn’t intend this but cool) Castiel

We learn through Castiel that angels can be damaged by using “other angel’s grace.” Cas’s body or his mind was being torn apart the longer he used different grace to sustain himself. Then like a drug addict he simply ruined his human body. If Cas never stole grace he’d simply go on as Steve, right? Yes, the meat suit still looks like Jimmy Novak, but Castiel (what part of him?) experienced life like a human. A life he thought he understood, but no, he did not. He tells this to Dean. He cannot fathom it and so due to him most of the fallen angels Castiel unwittingly put on Earth, would not be able to fathom it as well, hence that whole plot with Ephram. He was feeling Castiel’s human pain. All of this makes me think, Cas’s mind or personality must still be connected to Heaven because as a strategist he saw fit to cloak himself with a tattoo? Reapers found him so easily and so did angels. How? They put him on Heaven’s most wanted list, angel or not? The advantage being he was in a perceived weakened state, being human and all? This also brings up another question, was Anna still on Heaven’s radar even as they allowed her to live as a human? Meaning no matter what they are still property of the Empty (hence human Cas does not mean a way for him to skirt the deal). Or can it?

I also must mention Naomi. It seemed her job along with a few others was to wrangle the masses. Or brainwash. She would tap into angel’s minds and tweak them to do Heaven’s will. Which is something I think looms over all the angels as they start to think of doubting orders from above? If they head towards doubt they must be punished (Cas was ripped back to Heaven in s4). Naomi is one of those angels that fixes the imperfections. The angels don't remember this happens to them but they can break the connection (Cas season 8). Some even defer entirely like Uriel and join Lucifer’s side but Uriel was not disconnected from Heaven’s power because of his deferment. This kinda insinuates angels can practice free will like a human, but if angel’s like Naomi continue to “fix the molds” then they cannot continue down that path of doubt unless you do like Anna. Rip the grace and become reborn. Castiel’s grace depleted in s5 ever so slowly, like taking a chisel to it. I don’t think until his decisions to help in Point of No Return 5x18 does Castiel truly begin his fall. We know that by the time Pestilence is on the scene, Castiel is losing his connection to Heaven. Though, he has just enough strength to cut off his finger from that point on we get the ever so awesome shot of Castiel with a shot gun (The Devil You Know 5x20).

Okay, so I don't doubt that angels are still celestial energies (a ball of blue light, six lion heads whatever you picture) but I don't think grace = the angel. The angels that Cas stole from I think die because most often an angel blade is used to take the grace, the only weapon that can take the grace, I think. Nothing else makes the grace show within the vessel. But if the vessel is healed without the human soul, what happens? The angels that fell from Heaven when Metatron did his crap, did they fall with grace still intact (just no wings)? I think so. Cas did not. Metatron forced him to return as human. Anna chooses to fall without grace as well. It seems an angel can take over the body without grace? So are they separate, grace and the angel? But even then, if they are perceived as human are they still angel enough to be the Empty’s property?

#castiel #angels #spn #theories #cas's deal #long post #dean winchester #sam winchester #supernatural

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vitalmindandbody · 7 years ago

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Ellen von Unwerth:’ Let’s photograph girlfriends experiencing life’

Blending old-world charm with a uniquely provocative eroticism, Ellen von Unwerths photographs are a riot of merriment and sly subversion. Richard Godwin sounds why it is also necessary go ourselves less seriously

Ellen von Unwerth cant stop laughter. The German photographer, 63, is bouncing all over the Taschen gallery in West Hollywood in her sneakers, attempting to talk through the likeness from her latest expo and prowes volume, Heimat .

So heimat represents Fatherland or Motherland or where you were born and where your roots are, she tells me. Bavaria is not my heimat , but we wanted to make a lampoon of the whole Bavarian thing.

The whole Bavarian occasion, apparently, involves supermodels frolicking nude in Alpine grasslands, performing suggest ordinances with sausages, udders and piou innocents, sledging topless, spanking one another in dirndls and generally experiencing the fecundity and vigor for which the countries of the south German ascents are celebrated. Oh, ja , its very sex there, even the clothes they push up the breasts and there are lots and lots of sausages, ha ha ha, she interprets. But you realise so many personas that are dark and depressing at the moment. All these lamentable girls being lamentable! So I figured, lets show girls having fun and experiencing life.

The new Bardot: Claudia Schiffer in Italy, 1989. Photo: Ellen von Unwerth

Von Unwerth has a strange flair for getting famous and beautiful women( Claudia Schiffer, Madonna, Naomi Campbell, Rihanna, Kate Moss) to remove their inhibitions and frequently their underwear while at the same time maintaining self-restraint. Her portraits are often provocatively sexual, but its generally her topics who are doing the elicit. I ever give them something to do, she discloses. When someone not moving I get bored. I take two word-paintings and I say: Great, I have it now. But I love their own bodies in push. I like the nude mas in movement.

The fashion world adores her for this. You could tell from the raucous opening defendant for Heimat , where Arnold Schwarzenegger improbably scratched shoulders with Yolandi Visser, and most of the models from the hit ceased up jump-start in a swimming pool. Von Unwerths Instagram feed is just one of the few that clear pattern weeks actually search fun. On International Womens Day, the fashiony corners of Instagram were awash with tributes to her: You make fun, sexy, craziness to give. I ever experience pushing my boundaries, hugging my femininity/ virility and of course my personality always raucous and proud when we work together, wrote one example, Alexina Graham. Ellen von Unwerths playful and empowering photos are such a exultation to be a part of and I am so happy she is there to represent women in such a male reigned professing! wrote another, Syrie Moskowitz.

I ever give the representations something to do: Ellen von Unwerth. Image: Steffen Kugler

It is clear that everyone had a whole lot of snickers in Bavaria. Von Unwerth flows towards an image of three women topless on a sled: This example is Miss Russia and she brought a lot of vodka to the kill. So the latter are boozing behind my back in the snow. Von Unwerth is not much given to analysing. When I allude to the male gape she has no theory what Im talking about. When I find myself comprehending for the word porn she hit back: Have you ever seen a porno? Well, one of your envisions does literally outline two beings having sex in a hayloft. Its more inspired by a B-movie sense of camp. I wouldnt say porno.( After our interrogation, one of her deputies calls me to make sure that I dont think its prurient .)

Of course, the word I should have reached for was sexual. Or perhaps simply German. Look at the scandal there was with Janet Jackson over here, she says referring to the Super Bowl nipple slip of 2004. It was a tit! Its something you should be proud of and not obscure. Especially if its nice. Ha ha ha ha! In Germany it is not like this. Even if you go to a common in Berlin in the summer, everybody is naked and playing frisbee. You would get arrested if you did that in LA.

Leg pulling: Bumpy Slide, from Heimat. Photograph: Ellen von Unwerth

Von Unwerth was birth in Frankfurt in 1954 and grown up in an orphanage and a succession of foster homes. She has no recollection of her parents and not much inclination to reflect on their absence. Its what drew “peoples lives”, she says. I was free from affect and I was able to take best available from everywhere. I dont truly have a heimat . So her heimat is wherever she happens to be? Exactly.

She moved to Bavaria aged 16 to join a commune and later went to study in Munich. On her first day at university person said: Hey, would you like to do a modelling enterprise? And I turned around and never went back to university. That led to a shoot for the German magazine Bravo , which in turn led to her being signed by Elite simulates in Paris. I kind of hated modelling, but somehow I did it for 10 years. I was not really the exhibitionist kind. Its hard psychologically to be a model. And predominantly beings told me not to move when I was posing. I just wanted to be like the girls in my scenes now.

Your Turn,( Rihanna ), 2009. Photograph: Ellen von Unwerth

It was exclusively in 1986 that she firstly started taking picture herself a boyfriend lent her his camera on a fashion product in Kenya and she went into a nearby hamlet to kill local children. I came back home and established them to my friends and they were like: Theyre really good, Ellen! Because prototypes are supposed to be stupid. I was astonished myself because I wasnt so interested in photography. I had never learnt how to do it.

Her portraits were published in the French periodical Jill , and she went on to shoot for i-D , the Face , Interview and Vogue , in the vein of her greatest force Helmut Newton. It was a shoot with the then unknown Claudia Schiffer for French Elle in 1988 that cleared both of their occupations. She was a sugared girl and I didnt think so much of it, but when I looked at the pictures, I called my husband[ music producer Christian Fourteau] and said: Doesnt she look like Brigitte Bardot? The teeth, the eyes? Soon after we did the Guess jeans campaign and it was a jumpstart to my vocation. She also detected Eva Herzigov( shes gushing with vigour) and Nadja Auermann, and hit the notorious 1995 Playboy shoot that announced that Drew Barrymore was no longer the girl from ET . She has remained in demand even though the smartphone epoch has debased the art.

Saddle up: On the high horse, 2015. Photo: Ellen von Unwerth

Its not special any more to be a photographer, she says. Even when I take a drawing, everybody countenances next to me and takes the same video. Five minutes later its on everyone elses Instagram and Im old information so Im forced to take paints on my iPhone too.

She tells me she can usually tell the difference between a photo a follower has taken and one a woman has taken. But I find it crazy how girls photograph themselves all the time. When I was a girl and searched in the reflect, my stepmother would come in and give me a slap. There was this idea that if you did that, the demon would get in you and steal your temperament. Now everyone does this. I question patterns sometimes, Do you were supposed to take so many selfies? And “theyre saying”: Simply when I take selfies do I get likes. Its heartbreaking! Narcissism is so celebrated in our society, sometimes beings lose interest in other people.

Heimat by Ellen von Unwerth, price 650, issued by Taschen as a collectors edition of 1,500 prints, each numbered and signed by the photographer. For more information, go to taschen.com