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sweetnxthngs · 4 months ago

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[ may calamawy, non-binary, they/she] — whoa! IMAAN EL-SALEM just stole my cab! not cool, but maybe they needed it more. they have lived in the city for TEN YEARS, working as a/an OWNER OF BROWNSTONE BOOKS that can’t be easy, especially at only 38 YEARS OLD. some people say they can be a little bit SHY and FANCIFUL , but i know them to be WARMHEARTED and ARTICULATE. whatever. i guess i’ll catch the next cab. hope they like the ride back to QUEENS! —character parallels: rory gilmore, monica gellar, lexie grey.

wanted connections • pinterest

BASICS

FULL NAME: Imaan El-Salem

NICKNAME(S): none, doesn't love nicknames.

AGE: 38

DATE OF BIRTH: February 14th, 1986

CURRENT LOCATION: Queens, New York City.

PLACE OF BIRTH: Bahrain

ETHNICITY: Egyptian, Palestinian.

GENDER: Non-binary

PRONOUNS: they/she

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: bisexual

RELIGION: Raised Muslim, does not follow organized religion perfectly by any means, but does believe in God and has faith.

LANGUAGES: arabic, english.

OCCUPATION: owner of brownstone books.

FACECLAIM: May Calamawy

PHYSICAL TRAITS

HEIGHT: 5’7

WEIGHT: 115 lbs

HAIR COLOR: Brown

EYE COLOR: Brown

PIERCINGS: one lobe piercing in each ear, and an industrial piercing in the right ear.

TATTOOS: here

SCARS|MARKS: freckles across her nose and cheeks,

SIGNATURE SCENT: Maison Margiela Replica Springtime in the Park.

PHOBIAS AND DISEASES

MENTAL ILLNESSES: social anxiety.

PHYSICAL ILLNESSES:

PHOBIAS:

RELATIONSHIPS

MOTHER: Nashwa El-Salem ( Badawi) (deceased)

FATHER: Omar El-Salem

CHILDREN: none

SIBLINGS: Laila El-Salem (younger half-sister)

RELATIONSHIPS: coming soon

PETS: a black cat lovingly named sush, short for sushi.

PERSONALITY

ZODIAC SIGN: Aquarius.

MORAL ALIGNMENT: Neutral Good.

FAVORITE FOODS: sushi, watermelon, mint and feta salad, garlic noodles with chili crunch, mutabal, french fries drenched in ketchup and mayo, shakshouka.

FAVORITE COLOR: lavender and pink

LIKES: the smell of the air just after it rains, and the color of the sky and it's orange-pink hue then, too, when svu or criminal minds marathons are on, the feeling of having a crush. romance books.

DISLIKES: anything above 70 degrees Fahrenheit, washing the dishes by hand,

HOBBIES: as of recently, ballet classes just to get some movement in and they like the fluidness of it, reading fanfiction when they should be working, baking their feelings away, and self-defense classes.

BIOGRAPHY

tw death, tw religion, tw childbirth.

PAST.

BAHRAIN, February 1986.

It's February, but it's the Middle East in the 80s, so the weather is likened to the decade. Nashwa is in a hospital and still, sweating profusely. She's unsure if it's the weather or the pressures of childbirth. She is freshly married, and this is her first baby, when a screaming little girl comes out, Imaan, is placed into her arms she cries along with her. She barely gets to hold her though before the beeping of a machine rings in her ears and before she can even meet her daughter, to know her, Nashwa El-Salem is pronounced dead, complications in birth.

Omar, her father, has no idea what to do with a newborn daughter, and with his job, he doesn't really have the time to raise her alone, that's when originally, her jadda stepped in, helping raise the young child until she was of school age, and then, there was pressure for her father to remarry, to find someone to run the home while he worked. By the time young Imaan is seven, Omar is remarried, and expecting another child.

Their stepmother isn't from here, the States, actually, here as an expat, working for the embassy, and their little sister Laila looks more like her than their father. Imaan is barely eight but she knows that things have shifted.

They go back and forth from Bahrain to Washington often enough, two homes, and to Imaan, it feels like two families. Her father and herself, and then him and his wife and Laila. There is a passing comment about how she can't let go of a mother she never knew, and as Imaan gets older, they know that's true.

by the time Imaan is seventeen, laila is 10, and they are fully moved to Washington, leaving Bahrain, and everything Imaan has ever really known behind. They finish their last year of school in the States, and it is so different Imaan feels out of place, and alone. She tries to fit in, and tries to be the perfect daughter at the same time, but those two don't align. Raised strict Muslim, Imaan is used to a set of rules, and the western high school system is mostly not set up for them, especially in 2005. Her connection to her home and her faith gets lost somewhere along the way, more fights with her father about his expectations, about his wife and his other daughter, about how she will never be good enough. He calls her disrespectful and a disappointment, and she tells him she applied for college in Scotland far away from him, and the look on his face tells her she's gone too far, but the plans have already been set in motion.

The University of Edinburgh is a dream and an awakening. Imaan is still shy, an introvert one would say, but also more willing to explore who they are. Kissing a girl for the first time is like a rebirth, trying cigarettes, alcohol, and even drugs feel like things that make her stray from the staunch religious upbringing she had, and yet, the lack of restraints feels good.

By the time she graduates with a degree in English, she knows she is different, and she's not sure how much her family will like that.

She moves back home for a while and works in a library as an assistant, and the freedom college abroad brought her dwindles, it's back to dad's rules. her sister is just sixteen, and while they were never close, their relationship is not bad, but Imaan finds there isn't much they have in common. Her sister likes concerts, has a large circle of friends, and spends her time trying new makeup techniques, and that's all fine, except Imaan can't relate to it, as someone who finds their enjoyment in reading the newest romance boo release, or

She moves around a bit after two years at home, does two years in California, and two more in Chicago before moving with their roommate to New York. It's closer to home but totally different all the same, and it actually feels right. Unlike all the other cities. They get a job in a bookstore and share a two-bedroom with their roommate in Queens and life is okay, though not perfect.

PRESENT

Imaan brought Brownstone Books off the owner, who they worked for 8 years before she decided it was time to retire, and with a very small loan and the kindness of someone who took them in, they owned the place. It felt daunting, but the bookstore's popularity helped make the transition easier.

In those ten years since moving to New York, Imaan found that what was missing in her life was some sort of faith, and found a way to embrace spirituality and their sense of self, a sometimes uneven, but more comfortable balance. They got cat and name it sush, and they still live in a two-bedroom, though their roommate moved out recently to live with her boyfriend, so they're on the hunt. They love to bake, spending the time not in the bookstore either doing that or reading (books, or fanfiction, thank you). They don't see their family often, though her sister is 31 now, and has visited a few times.

wanted connections found here.

#(those windermere peaks look like the perfect place to cry || imaan.)#boroughs.intro #tw death #tw childbirth #tw religion mention #i cant shut up this is so long winded im sorry

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storiesofsvu · 2 years ago

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Second Chair Spark Ch 3

Warnings: language, regular SVU type situations and conversations. Sexual assault elluded to, brief physical assault. (if you read this before, know that I have gone through and edited/rewritten a piece of this chapter to reflect the above warnings)

As the next few months passed, McCoy was insistent that you continue to work alongside Casey, especially since you hadn’t lost a single case of the last 10 you’d tried. Nearly more time was spent arguing with each other than with the defence attorney’s, the squad had quickly learned to move your joint cases into a conference room, leaving you to battle it out alone after the first time a Styrofoam coffee cup went flying through the bull pen. Despite the ever growing tension between the two of you, things worked surprisingly well, you’d opened up about your alternative methods of talking to perps and victims, you were able to get more information out of them than any of the detectives. Casey also approved of how deeply you’d dig into people’s histories and social media accounts, if there was ever going to a second shoe to drop, you were already on top of it. Rita Calhoun even took you out for a celebratory drink after the two of you completely wiped the floor with her case, commenting that you’d make a good fit in her firm (which you promptly laugh-scoffed at)

Time went on, and you fought over the fact that Novak never let you question anyone on the stand, or make a single argument. She countered that you’d pulled a pretty big stunt on your first trial, after Olivia gently reminded her that that stunt effectively won the case, Novak caved the slightest bit. She still kept you on a very tight leash, you knew if you varied an inch from what you’d prepped, she’d have your head, so you simply did your best work. You started to slowly spilt things up, she’d do opening and closing while you’d take questioning, or vice versa. It was absolutely gratifying watching the two of you practically tango around the courtroom ripping the defences arguments apart, Casey was more than dazzled as she watched you bring a 6’5, 230 lb serial rapist/murderer (who had been nothing but argumentative and violent) into a series of sobs on the stand. Rita was right….you were a fucking shark.

It was 3:48 A.M. on a Friday when SVU had called you in, you got ready quickly, stashing your regular business attire into your bag, arriving at the precinct with two venti’s from Starbucks in a tray, knowing that your day had probably already began. You took a large gulp of the warm beverage, letting your brain fully start to wake up as Fin caught you up on the case. SVU had wanted the A.D.A.’s in early since it was deemed high profile, a Youtube celebrity/nightclub owner was being accused of raping a girl one of his club’s private bathrooms. The vic was on her way over from Mercy with Olivia & Elliot so you had a bit of time, pulling out your tablet to start to dig into your suspected perp before Novak showed up.

Casey entered the bull pen to find you leaning against an empty desk, I-pad in your hands, brows furrowed clearly deep in concentration into your social media stalking. She’d once asked how you’d gotten into the accounts that were private, you simply replied that you had a few fake accounts, two styled exactly the same as a couple of very well liked celebrities, if that failed, you had a cousin over at computer crimes. She was a bit taken aback at your softened appearance, well tailored skirt/pantsuits abandoned for a pair of comfy Lulu’s, a tank top and a warm looking cardigan, your hair was loose, your natural waves taking over, it looked like it was even still damp from a shower. You didn’t bother looking up at her as she approached you, simply grabbing the drink tray with the extra coffee, extending it to her, she paused in a second before taking the drink.

“You…brought me coffee?” Confusion took over her face, especially since you still didn’t tear yourself away from the screen

“It’s 4 A.M. we both know the precinct’s coffee is shit. Didn’t want you in worse of a mood.” She took a sip of the coffee, shocked to find that it was her favourite go to from the chain, she didn’t want to ask how you’d figured that out.

“What’ve we got?” Casey settled beside you in your stance against the desk, watching you scroll. When you rolled your neck to relieve the pressure from staring down at the I pad you ran a hand through your hair, shaking it gently, she could smell the vanilla practically radiating from you, lost in the moment she nearly missed you starting your reply.

“This guy’s a fucking pig is what we’ve got.” You clicked out of the app, moving over to the photo app, exposing the screenshot’s you’d taken, clicking on the first one before passing the device to Casey, “It’s been ten minutes and I’ve already found way more sexist, degrading of women tweets than I’d like. He practically screams, ‘come to my club and I’ll force you into a sexual situation’ and his Instagram’s way worse.” You sighed, pausing to take a gulp of your coffee, “He’s got more pics with underage girls with sexualized captions than I can count.”

“How underage are we talking?” Her attention was focussed on the tweets you’d saved, they were truly disturbing, and would certainly help build a case.

“Not sure. I have some of the girl’s names written down but haven’t gotten into their accounts yet.”

“And you’re sure about all of this being legit?” Novak finally gained eye contact with you, a quirked brow as your face hardened, coffee hitting both your brains enough for the tension to rise.

“People have a tendency to think they’re protected by anonymity on the internet, they think they can say whatever they want and it won’t be held against them. If they ever get in trouble they think they can delete it and no one will know….Trust me…I thought you would’ve figured out that I know what I’m doing by now.” She’d barely opened her mouth to reply when Olivia’s voice rung lightly through the room,

“Counsellors…” You both turned to face her, “This is Ava Sanderson��.she’d like to talk to us.” You both nodded, Casey passed the I pad back to you, which you promptly turned your attention to, switching back over to Instagram to try and track down some of the other girls in his photos. You noticed Casey stilled beside you, you looked up at her questioningly,

“You wanna take this one?” She asked, your face scrunched into confusion,

“What?”

“You’ve had more time to familiarize yourself with the case, you know how much of a pig this guy is…she’ll probably trust you more.” You actually froze, your brows furrowed as you took in her expression, lightly placing the I pad down on the desk behind you.

“Who are you and what have you done with Casey Novak?” She quirked a brow at you, shoving you towards the interview room,

“Go before I change my mind Gerard.”

***

Exactly like Novak had thought, with your quick knowledge of Bobby D’amico and his slimy past times, Ava was practically an open book to you. The problem was that after SVU had her story and sent her home, Fin and Munch took off to talk to D’amico, who claimed it was consensual. And after you dug into Ava’s social media, there were pictures through the entire night, including ones post assault where she was drinking, dancing and appearing to have a great time in D’amico’s bar. You and Casey were still in the squad room come 1:28 P.M. on your about 12th cup of crappy coffee while trying to figure out how to go about this.

“D’amico’s not only famous but a powerful man, we can’t bring him in until we have something more than circumstantial on him, we need proof that he has a habit abusing his celebratory status to assault women at the club, otherwise it’s all going to be thrown out. There was no DNA from the kit, and Ava’s story isn’t looking good.” Your argument was more than valid, you’d spent hours combing through his social media accounts with Fin and as much trash as you’d found, there wasn’t anything connecting to him to rape. Not to mention a jury would take one look at Ava’s accounts and would be convinced she was a social media whore who just wanted the attention, she vlogged practically every moment of her life, constantly tagging people for contests follows, and comments.

“Why not put someone under?” Fin commented, Olivia was quick to counter,

“D’amico has a very specific type that he goes for…it would take way to long to comb through uni’s to find the right one by tonight, which is his prime time.”

“Why bother with a uni when we’ve got his type right here?” Fin questioned, having gone through the social media with you all day, he’d noticed a trend, everyone in the squad room looked up at him, questions on their faces, he gestured to you. You let out a bark of a laugh, Casey felt her body tense up.

“I’m not a cop, you can’t send me under.”

“We send civilians under all the time. This isn’t any different.”

“Minus the fact that I can’t process a case that I’m a witness/victim in…”

“Then Casey’ll take it.” You rolled your eyes at that, cause she didn’t take every case already? Everyone took a minute for everything to soak in before Cragen spoke,

“Y/N, Fin’s right..you fit the profile to a T. You already know the case and the legalities of it, not to mention all of D’amico’s and Ava’s social media, if you’re willing to do this, we could actually win this case.”

***

After concocting a plan with the SVU detectives, you thanked god that you were allowed to head back home to actually nap before having to get ready for this undercover op. Obviously homicide was very different and you’d never had to do something like this before, but this was your job, and your job was still to put away criminals.

Fin picked you up in his unmarked SUV commenting that you did a good job at looking the part, you laughed, telling him he wasn’t exactly your type as you drove to the club. He ran through the plan again, briefing you on what to expect and reminded you of your safe word and to use it the second you wanted out or needed help. You countered that to actually make it stick you'd have to get Bobby as close to the real thing as possible, for them to wait to make the bust. He assured you that the squad knew what they were doing, and that Casey was in the other van to make sure you got everything you needed.

You had your ways to not have to wait in line, flashing a fake ID at the bouncer before making it into the club, the choker around your neck recording everything you came across. You smiled your way through the club, making your way to the bar, flirting with the bartender who you recognized as one of Bobby’s close friends. You flashed a golden smile at him, moaning at how good he was at making a martini, your breasts practically spilling out of your dress, he offered you a couple of free shots at that. You watched his slimy smile as he took them with you before moving to talk to someone positioned at the end of the bar. You pretended your focus was on the dance floor, giggling at something the douche next to you said. Within a heartbeat, Bobby D’amico was in front of you, a wicked grin on his face,

“Hey sweetheart. Can I get you a drink?” You smiled brightly at the smug smile he gave you,

“Oh my GOD! No way! You’re Bobby D’amico, aren’t you?!” He laughed heavily, dropping his head into the curve of your neck

“Don’t say that too loud baby or you’ll be fighting off the fangirls.” You fake laughed heavily, gently slapping against his chest. You intently watched him and the bartender as he ordered a round two shots and drinks, while his arm curled possessively around you, complimenting on how pretty you looked in that dress. You were quick to toss the shots into an empty glass behind you as he wasn’t looking. You sipped at your drinks, swapping them with empty glasses along the bar whenever you could, D’amico definitely thought you were at least 10 drinks in when you were about 2. You softly pushed yourself off the barstool,

“I have to pee….” You murmured in typical drunk girl action, Bobby grinned at that, moving you opposite of the pubic bathrooms, you faked stumbled against him,

“But..”

“I’ve got my own bathroom over here sweetheart, don’t worry.” You prayed your choker camera was still intact as you fake tumbled your way behind this sexual predator into the bathroom. He’d barely opened the door to the bathroom before he’d roughly pushing you against the wall, causing you to yelp.

“No!” You pushed back against him and he only chuckled darkly, smirking down at you "Bobby no! STOP!!” He was moving too fast, your dress was too short. You pushed away from him, screaming, begging him to stop, trying to punch against his face, your voice barely audible over the music of the club. Instead his fist collided with the side of your face, causing you to yelp. You thought you were going to pass out before a ruckus of noise broke through the bathroom and someone caught you before you hit the floor.

“Y/N…..Y/N…” The gentle voice shook you lightly, when your vision cleared you found none other than the Casey Novak in front of you, a concerned expression on her face.

“What the fuck….” You managed to croak out, Casey pulled you to standing as the detectives took D’amico in custody, moving him out of the bathroom. You gave your head a shake, leaning against the wall, trying to fully comprehend what had just happened.

“Are you okay?” The voice was filled with concern, something you weren’t used to in New York, you rubbed your eyes before looking up, still surprised to find Novak in front of you.

“Casey….” She was surprised when you choked out her first name, “I need to go the hospital...” Tears started to fall from your eyes, ashamed that it had gone that far. SVU had busted in as soon as they could, but it wasn’tquite quick enough. Casey immediately felt a sense of rage towards the SVU squad, and a sense of sympathy towards you, you let out a new round of cries as she pulled you against her into a tight hug, caressing your hair as she murmured against you. Surprised that suddenly she didn’t have this hate coursing through her veins that she normally did, she was simply concerned, wishing that you’d never been put in this position in the first place.

“It’s gonna be okay. That bastard is going away for good, I fucking promise, he’ll never touch you again.”

Casey was conflicted, there’d been so much tension between you over the past few months, but now she was absolutely livid that you’d been hurt because the squad wasn’t fast enough. Not to mention she was the one who’s arms you collapsed into and practically the reason you’d ended up in the situation in the first place.

Despite being in the emotional state you were in, you hated the fact that you’d collapsed into Casey’s arms. Novak was the last person you wanted sympathy from, you’d never imagined this happening. You felt completely violated, it wasn’t supposed to happen like this. You pulled yourself from her, wiping your eyes with a tissue before she escorted you out the back door of the club, where there was a car waiting to take you to Bellevue.

#casey novak #casey novak x reader #second chair spark #law and order #law and order svu #svu #law and order special victims unit

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