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study-coffee-chicago · 3 years

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Stars on your Sleeve (A Ranger! Jay imagine)

Not a Halstead sister fic, just Jay and the reader as a child. (Sort of daddy! Jay)

The rain drummed down on Jay's tan helmet, the sound soothing him as he focused his eyes across the dark of the Tabernas Desert. Despite it being cold and wet, his focus was razor-sharp. He looked through the scope of his sniper at the sparsely vegetated, and sandy yet rocky terrain. He kept his eyes peeled for anything or anyone out of the ordinary, most notably Los Rebeldes.

Los Rebeldes (The Rebels) had thrown over the Spanish government and turned it into a warzone. Anyone who went against them was instantly killed. Anyone who refused to serve in their army had their families taken away. Jay didn't care much about the politics of the matter. All he cared about was making sure that no more innocents were harmed because of some fringe group getting their way and wanting to keep it that way. It wasn't Afghanistan, but it was the same goal.

When the war broke out, he knew he had to come back, to fight and protect. So, when Mouse had mentioned that was going to reenlist, Jay had been right behind him, despite Hailey arguing with him. They had been married for a year at the time and she didn't want to lose her husband to the gruesomeness that was battle. But, he told her he'd be safe. He told her that he had Mouse and all the other platoon members that would keep him safe, just as he would do the same for them. And now here he was, three weeks left of his deployment, still safe, and as ready as ever to get back to his wife.

As he looked into the scope, something being swept across the land caught his eye. And then, the wind died down, stopping it. He moved his sniper to be directly looking at it close up. Wet and matted, covered in dirt, but no doubt had it been loved by a child for many years. Then, he saw something out of the corner of his eye and moved around once more.

The feet were small, wet from the rain. He couldn't see much else because the rest of the body was hidden behind a bush. If he could get closer, he'd be able to see that the toes were starting to turn blue. It hadn't dipped below freezing, but the rain made it feel like it had.

"Mouse, I see something on my nine. Does that look like a kid to you?" Jay radioed.

Mouse turned his gun from where he was fifty feet away from Jay and zoomed his scope in as close as he could. "Oh my God."

That was all the confirmation Jay needed. "Mouse, I need you and Logans to cover me. I'm going to get them."

"Halstead, you can't--"

"Logans, I can and I will. It's a child, they're defenseless and last I checked we're here to protect them, so cover me."

He spotted the teddy bear still laying on the ground about one hundred feet away from who they presumed to be the child.

Jay held his gun in front of him, using the light from his sniper to guide him toward the child. Mouse was right behind him and Logans was a few yards behind them, walking backward to watch their six.

Jay stopped. "What are you doing?" Mouse asked as Jay reached down.

"I think this belongs to them." With his gun still trained in front of him, he grasped the sopping wet teddy bear. He noticed it was missing an eye. And then, he continued walking, boots heavy against the ground.

Jay continuously checked his three and nine as they got closer and closer to the child. For all they knew, this could be a ploy to take the three of them prisoner. But, there was no one.

"I'll run ahead, go check to make sure there's no one there," Logans volunteered.

"Copy," Jay answered, a few feet away from the child. Logans ran up ahead without even glancing down at the child, his main mission to make sure his fellow brothers in arms were safe.

Jay swallowed as he saw what lay on the ground in front of him. A girl, no more than ten, lay on the cold ground only wearing a dress and a small locket, which were now sopping wet. Her fingers and toes were a pale shade of blue and her lips were cracked and purple.

"All clear," Logans said as he ran back behind Mouse to watch their six once more.

Jay swung his gun behind him and took off his helmet. "Jay, what are you doing?" Mouse asked.

"I don't want to scare her if she wakes up, Mouse."

He leaned down and pressed his fingers to the girl's neck. "I've got a pulse. It's slow. She's probably slightly hypothermic, but it's there."

Jay balled his hand into a first and placed it on the girl's chest, rubbing hard and fast, hoping to warm her up.

You woke with a start. You widened your eyes as you saw someone crouched above you, brown hair, freckles, and green eyes with water dripping down his face. You tried to back away, but you couldn't feel your fingers, and that made it hard to push yourself up into a seated position.

The man took his hand off you and then held both his hands up in a sign of surrender. "This is Halstead to base, patch me through to Diaz," the man spoke into something like a walkie-talkie that was strapped to the band in front of him.

"Copy, Halstead. Patching you through to Diaz."

You jumped, not knowing where the second voice was coming from and Jay noticed. "Hey, hey, estás segura, cariña, estás segura." He used one of the few phrases he could say in Spanish to tell you that you were safe.

Upon hearing your first language, you relaxed a little. Then, you noticed the patch on his sleeve. It was the one with the red and white stripes and the stars. Your mom had always told you that if anything happened, to look for the men with the stars and red stripes on their sleeves because they would help you. That was one of the last things she told you five years ago and you were glad you had remembered.

"Diaz," you heard.

"Hey, Emilia, I've got a little girl here, signs of hypothermia, can't be more than ten. I got her to wake up. I have no idea if she speaks English, so what do I do?"

"First off, ask her her name. I know you know how to say that."

"¿Como te llamas, cariña?"

"Y/N," you answered.

"Y/N. Me llamo Jay." He picked up the teddy bear beside him. "Diaz, how do I ask her if this is hers?"

"¿Es tuyo?" Emilia answered.

"¿Es tuyo?" Jay repeated, his horrible Spanish accent showing.

You nodded and Jay held out your teddy bear to you. Slowly, you reached your hand out and took it from him and then, despite it being sopping wet, hugged it tightly to your chest.

"¿Hablas inglés, Y/N?" Jay asked.

You nodded, telling him that you did in fact speak English. At the orphanage you and your older sister had been at, the workers spoke both Spanish and English. And, since you had been there for five years, you had picked up most of the language.

"I'm Jay," he told you once more and then motioned behind him. "That's my friend Mouse and way back there is my friend Chad. I promise we won't hurt you. Now, can you come with us?"

"Stars on your mangas. Yes, I come," you answered. Despite having been around English for five years, you were bound to make mistakes sometimes.

"Diaz, help me out here. Mangas?"

"Sleeves, she said you have stars on your sleeve. I think she's talking about the American flag patch."

"Thanks. Can we get a truck to our location stat? I don't think we could carry her all the way back there seeing as it's a three-hour trek. She might get worse."

"Copy. Pulling location and sending emergency trucks your way. Want me to stay on the line?"

"That'd be great. Thanks, Emilia."

Jay took off his heavy coat and held it out you. You nodded at him and he wrapped it around your small body. "What's your bear's name?"

"Osito."

Diaz chuckled on her end. "Translates to teddy or little bear," she told Jay.

"Thanks for the info."

Despite the heavy jacket, you shivered. Jay wrapped an arm around you. "Help will be here soon, Y/N. For now I just need you to stay awake for me, can you do that? Diaz, how do I tell her not to sleep?"

"No despierte," she answered.

"No despierte, Y/N, no despierte."

"Halstead, emergency's thirty minutes out," Mouse told him. "It's your call. Go back to where we were or stay here."

He looked to you. He didn't want to move you if you weren't comfortable. "Wait here or wait somewhere else?" he asked you.

"Here," you answered.

"You heard her boys, we're staying here."

***

You didn't know how long it had been, but the nice soldier, Jay, had let you drink out of his big, round water bottle. He told you it was called a canteen. You had never heard that word before. He had helped you hold it since your hands were still numb and blue from the cold. Once you took one sip, you didn't stop until it was all gone.

Jay didn't mind that you had drunk the rest of his water, which was only half full when he had given it to you. You probably needed it more than him anyway; he had no idea how long you had been out in the desert without anything to drink.

You heard a truck motor in the distance, causing you to jump. "This is Halstead to Base," Jay started, "is there a truck heading towards our current location?"

"There is," the voice on the other end answered. "Do you see them?"

"I see them!" Logans yelled to Mouse who relayed the message to Jay.

"Copy, yeah we see them."

The noise grew louder and you squeezed your eyes shut. "Diaz, you still there?" Jay asked.

"Still here. What's up?"

"Can you tell Y/N that the truck is just to help her and then we're taking her someplace safe? I know she understands English, but I thought it might be a little hard for her to understand since there might be some military words mixed in there that she doesn't know. She looks pretty scared to me."

"Yeah, I can do that."

Over the soldier's radio, you heard a woman, who introduced herself to you as Emilia, speaking Spanish. She told you that there was a big truck coming your way and inside were a doctor and a nurse who would help get you better. Then, they'd take you back to a big house with lots of people where you could rest and eat some food. She told you that you'd be safe there.

"She seem calmer to you, Jay?"

"Actually yeah, she does."

"Halstead, truck's here!" Mouse yelled.

"Copy!" Then, he turned to you. "Hey, I'm gonna pick you up now and carry you over to that truck." He pointed ahead of him. "More of my friends are in there and there's doctors who can help you get warm. Are you okay with that?" You nodded, understanding most of what he was saying. "Okay, up you go. One, two, three."

He picked you up as the doctor and nurse jumped out of the back of the truck.

"A kid? How'd you find her?" the nurse, Ava, asked.

"I saw her teddy bear on the ground and then I looked and there she was. I don't know what happened to her. All I know is that she's showing signs of hypothermia and her name's Y/N."

"Okay, let's get in the truck and we'll take a look at her in there. That way me and Colin can actually see what we're working with."

"Copy," Jay answered. He climbed into the truck behind Ava and Mouse and Logans followed.

Jay went to set you down on the stretcher that sat between the two benches of the truck, equipped with an IV pole and other medical supplies, but you held onto his shirt. You didn't know what these people were going to do to you. The other guy didn't have stars on his sleeve. He could be bad.

"¡No! !No, lo tiene una bandera! ¡No me voy!"

Jay looked at Nurse Ava and Dr. Collins, seeing if they understood what she said, as you put your face into Jay's shirt. When they just stared back at him with a blank expression, Jay wanted to kill whoever decided not to send a bilingual nurse or doctor. If they couldn't send one of them, the least they could've done was send a translator with them.

"Mouse, get Diaz on your radio. I won't be able to hear her through mine since Y/N's covering it. Diaz, you can still hear us though, right?" Jay asked.

Jay heard muffling from underneath him and he took it as yes.

"Diaz, it's Mouse. You hear me?" Mouse asked, moving closer to Jay so they could both hear and speak into his radio.

"Loud and clear. Need me to translate?"

"Please," Jay replied.

"Okay. What she just said was that she doesn't want to go to him--I'm assuming him means Dr. Collins--because he doesn't have a flag on his sleeve," Emilia Diaz answered.

"Okay, let me try something."

"Oh God," Mouse muttered.

"Y/N," Jay started, causing you to move your head to look up at him. "This is a doctor. I know him. Es amigo."

"¿Su amigo?"

"Sí," Jay answered, confirming that the doctor was in fact his friend.

"He will not hurt me?" you asked.

"I promise he will not hurt you."

You looked at Dr. Collins and he smiled at you. "Okay," you said.

"I'm gonna put you down now."

He set you down on the stretcher and spoke loudly so that it could be heard through Mouse's radio. "Diaz, I'm gonna need you to translate this stuff because I doubt she knows medical stuff in English."

"Gotcha, doc," Diaz replied.

"Y/N, I have to tie off your arm and then put a needle in it so that warm saline gets into your body. That way, you'll warm up and your toes and fingers won't be cold anymore."

He waited for Diaz to translate and waited for your expression to change when she mentioned the needle to you. It did.

"I promise you'll only feel a small pinch."

"And you can squeeze my hand really, really hard," Jay added.

Diaz translated and you looked to Jay who had stretched his hand out towards you. You took it and the doctor counted down from three, in Spanish, but on one he stuck the IV in your arm and you squeezed Jay's hand as hard as your numb little fingers could.

You relaxed once the needle was in, starting to feel warmer.

Nurse Ava looked at your locket and whispered something to Dr. Collins. Jay knew what was up. They needed to take your necklace off right away and then put it in a bag to be looked at by tech so that they could be sure that there were no cameras or microphones in it. Nobody would put it past Los Rebeldes to use kids to find out what American soldiers were doing.

"Sweetie, we need to take off your necklace," Ava said. "We just need to look at it and you can have it back tomorrow."

"No. It is mine," you answered.

"I know it's yours, which is why you'll get it back tomorrow." She wanted to say that she had to take your teddy bear too, just to make sure that there were no microphones or cameras in there as well, but she could only fight one battle at a time.

She turned to Jay and spoke really fast so that you couldn't understand her.

"I know. I'll handle it." Jay crouched down next to you. "Y/N, we know that this necklace is yours," he spoke slowly, so that you were able to understand, "Because of the stuff the doctor put in your arm, you're gonna warm up fast. And, sometimes if there's metal on you, it can burn you because you heat up too fast. ¿Entiendes?"

"A little," you answered Jay's question of if you understood what he had told you.

"Diaz, can you repeat what I just told Y/N about her locket?"

Diaz translated what Jay had told you into Spanish, and he watched as you nodded in understanding and reached back to undo the clasp of your locket. But, you couldn't get it. Ava reached over to undo it, but she couldn't get it either.

"The clasp is so rusty that it's stuck," Ava said.

"Let me take a look," Jay said and moved behind you. He gently touched your neck as he grabbed the chain of the locket and then looked at the clasp. Ava was right. There was no way this was going to come off easily.

"Y/N," Jay started. "Ava's gonna pull the necklace a little bit and when she does I need you to sit really still, okay?"

"Okay," you answered.

"What are you doing?" Ava hissed so quietly so that you couldn't hear as Jay reached into a pocket of his cargo pants.

He pulled out his pocket knife and flicked it open. "It's our only option. I'll just go right through the clasp because it'll be easiest."

"Fine." She pulled on the chain of the necklace, moving it so that it was far away from you, but not so much that it was choking you.

"Y/N, I need you to stay really still."

You nodded and then you felt the necklace fall off, the heart-shaped charm falling on the floor of the truck.

"You broke it!" you yelled.

Your sister had given that to you when she heard people coming into the orphanage two days ago. She had quickly clasped it on you and told you to hide in the crawl space under your shared bunk bed. Inside the heart-shaped charm was a picture of your dad on one side and a picture of your mom on the other. Your parents had given it to your sister for her tenth birthday and she always let you look at it when you missed them. You had gotten the teddy bear and she had gotten the necklace. But, now you had both, the only picture of your parents inside that locket and now it was broken.

Jay rushed to pick it up before it bounced out of the truck. "Got it!"

"But you broke it!"

Jay laughed at how you thought it couldn't be fixed. "No, we just need a new chain to put the necklace on. It's okay."

"You can fix it?"

"Yes, I can fix it." He knew that if he could get his hands on a chain and a clasp that he could, but he wasn't going to tell you that. All you needed to know was that it could be fixed.

"Do not lose it," you told him.

"I will not lose it, Y/N. I promise."

You yawned, the tiredness of the last few days finally taking over you as you started to warm up. You were safe and the stretcher was softer than the ground you had previously been on.

Jay moved his jacket from behind you and placed it over top of you like a blanket. "You can sleep. It's safe. You're safe." he told you.

You clutched your teddy bear as you snuggled into Jay's jacket, allowing the sound of the truck and the quiet whispers around you to lull you to sleep.

***

"You are not taking her teddy bear!"

"Halstead, we have--"

"Listen to me! You do not have to do anything. That girl was cold, terrified, and alone when I found her. That stuffed animal was probably her only comfort item, besides that necklace, which we have already taken away from her for the night by the way, so there is no way in hell I am letting you take it away from her!"

"Mmmm, ¿Qúe estaís haciendo?" you asked, rolling over and trying to remember where you were.

Jay shut his mouth the minute he heard you talking. "Emilia," he said.

"She asked what we doing," she translated, as their superior officer stared at the two of them.

"That's a damn good question," Jay said, crossing his arms and glaring at his superior officer. "Care to explain what you were going to do, Captain?"

"I'll handle this," Emilia mumbled, knowing that a fight would just break out and Jay could get in trouble for going up against a superior. She, not as much though since she was just a translator.

Emilia explained to you that you were in the hospital part of the big house she had told you about over the radio earlier. She asked you how you were feeling and you said good, warm. You also mentioned how the bed was soft and she smiled at your innocentness.

Then, Emilia asked if you wanted to take a bath, a warm bath. You said yes. She asked if she could take Osito and give him his own bath, make him all nice and clean for you. You agreed and handed her the bear, causing Jay's eyes to go wide.

Emilia called for Ava and said that you wanted to take a bath. You looked up at Jay. "You come, too?" you asked.

"Where are we going?" Jay asked as enthusiastically as he could.

"I get a warm bath! So does Osito!" you exclaimed.

Jay chuckled at your cuteness. Even though you were eight, you still spoke like a five-year-old since English was your second language. But, he didn't mind; knowing two languages at your age was an accomplishment in and of itself. After all, he could only speak English.

"I'm sorry, but I can't come with you," he answered, squatting down so that he was eye-level with you. "But I'll be here when you get back."

"You keep Osito safe?"

"I will," he answered.

You nodded and took Ava's hand and headed out of the room in Med Station to take a bath.

"What did you tell her, Diaz?" their captain asked.

"I just asked her if she wanted a bath and that we'd wash her bear for her. That way, we can check it out while she's gone."

"Good thinking. I'll leave you two to bring it to security."

"Yes sir," both Jay and Emilia answered.

"That's not all she told you was it?" Jay asked as they made their way through the compound and to the security sector.

"She uh, she said she's never had a warm bath before, that the water was always cold at the orphanage," Emilia answered sadly.

"So she has no family?"

"She mentioned a sister, but when I asked where she was, she didn't answer, and that's when I mentioned giving the bear a bath. Something had to have happened there for her to leave and walk across the desert all alone."

"Poor kid," Jay sighed. "Now, where are you gonna wash her bear?"

"Me?" Emilia asked. "Oh no, Halstead, that's your job. I'm gonna go look for some clothes for her. Figured I'd be better at that than you."

"So you just want me to walk into a barracks full of grown men with a stuffed animal?"

"Precisely," Emilia smiled. "And, if I recall correctly, you still owe me a favor."

"Yeah, from when we were sixteen and my car broke down and you gave me a ride home!"

"Favor's a favor. Now get going. Don't want Y/N to think that you stole her bear. After all, you did promise to keep Osito safe," she laughed.

Jay rolled his eyes as he continued walking towards the barracks and Emilia went to the left to try and find you some clothes that might actually fit you.

He walked into the barracks and then into the communal bathrooms. He turned on one of the sinks and put your teddy bear under the cold water and wrung it out, not so hard that he'd rip it, but hard enough that he could get all the dirt out. He repeated the process for ten minutes until the water finally ran clear.

"The hell you got there, Halstead?" a fellow soldier of Jay's asked.

"I found a little girl when we were out last night and we have to get it checked for mics and cams, so to get it away from her, Diaz promise that the bear would get a bath...which meant that I gotta wash it," Jay answered, grabbing some paper towel to dry Osito off as best he could.

"I bet she'll appreciate that," he answered.

"Yeah," Jay agreed and then left to go bring the bear to security.

As expected, there were no microphones or cameras in it...which Jay could've told them that. Then, he walked back to Med Station just in time to see you walking back in your room along with Ava.

"Osito!" you exclaimed, running up to Jay.

"Here you go, cariña. All nice and clean." He handed you the bear and you hugged it to your chest.

"Look! My dress has bears on it!" you exclaimed, referring to your hospital gown. Somehow, someway, the nurses had children's gowns on the base. Jay wondered if they had expected more child casualties here and the thought made him internally shudder.

"I can see that. How are you feeling?"

You pursed your lips, trying to think of the word in English. "Clean!" you answered.

Jay laughed at this. "I'm glad to hear that. Now, I'm gonna be right back okay? I'll be right over there." He pointed out the door to the nurses' station.

"Okay, Jay."

Jay. His heart swelled when he heard your little voice say his name. And at that moment, he knew he'd do anything and everything to protect you. He didn't know what you had been through, but he knew that he'd make damn sure that you wouldn't get left behind again.

***

Jay was abruptly woken from his sleep by Dr. Collins. "Whoa, whoa, Halstead. It's Dr. Collins," he quickly said, putting his hands in front of his face in a protective position as Jay started to swing.

Jay shook his head and slowly lowered his hands. "Sorry, habit."

"No big deal. I suspect most people here would do the same. Now, I need you to come with me."

"Why?" Jay asked, slipping his feet into his boots.

"The girl you brought in--"

"Y/N?"

"Yeah, her. She keeps asking for you. She woke up and she won't go back to sleep and she said she wants you."

"But why me?" he asked as they exited the barracks.

"You were the one who found her, correct?"

"Yeah, but what does that have to do with it?"

"What did you say to her when you were there?"

"I told her that she's safe, told her my name, and then asked if she wanted to wait where we were or somewhere else. She said she wanted to wait where we were, so that's what we did."

"I see," Dr. Collins started, "you gave her some semblance of control."

"What?"

"You asked her if she wanted to stay there or go somewhere else and actually did what she wanted. She feels safe with you. She trusts you, Halstead."

She trusts you, Halstead.

They entered Med Station and then walked to your room. Jay heard your quiet sniffles before he saw you.

You were clutching your bear to your chest, Ava was next to you trying to get you to sleep, but you just shook your head back and forth. It was too dark, too quiet. You wanted your sister.

"Hey, cariña," Jay whispered, crouching down in front of the bed.

"J-Jay," you stuttered through tears.

"Yeah, I'm here. What's wrong?" he asked slowly, making sure that you could understand.

"I can not sleep. Miss sister."

"You miss your sister?" he asked. You nodded. "I miss my brother sometimes, too. And my wife."

Wife. You didn't know that word. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. He pointed to his wedding band and you understood what he meant. He had a princess at home. Your dad always told you that your mom was his princess and she always said that he was her prince. And, the rings were to make sure they stayed prince and princess.

"¿Princesa?" you asked.

"She is my princess, yes."

"Is she pretty?"

"She is really, really pretty."

"You cry for her and your brother at night?"

Now that, that question took Jay off guard. But, he did occasionally do that...like when he missed their wedding anniversary because he was overseas. "Oh, yeah," he answered. "Adults cry too and it's okay."

"Really?"

"Really. Now, how about we go to sleep and you can tell me about your sister tomorrow. I will tell you about my brother and my princess tomorrow, too." He made a conscious choice not to use contractions when talking to you because, if your speaking was any indication, you hadn't picked up on those yet. But, wow, he was still impressed by your English skills.

Ava stood up and turned off the light. She went to leave but was stopped. "Too dark," you said.

Jay reached into one of the many pockets of his cargo pants and pulled out a flashlight. He clicked it on. "Better?" You nodded. "Now, how about you go to sleep?"

"You stay?"

Jay wasn't planning on staying, but when you asked that, he knew he couldn't say no. "I will stay."

"You promise?"

"I promise."

Jay hadn't broken any of his promises to you so far, so you expected him to still be here in the morning when you woke up.

***

It had been a week since Jay and the others had found you and your strength was finally back up to where it normally was. Jay had introduced you to his wife, Hailey, over a Skype call and he was right, she was pretty. When Jay told a joke, that you didn't understand, Hailey laughed, which caused you to laugh, too. And, before Jay knew it, he was laughing as well.

From that call, Jay had learned how old you were because Hailey had asked you. You were eight and your favorite color was purple. Your favorite animal was a bear and your favorite food...well you didn't really have one because all your food at the orphanage was boring and bland. You were fed for survival there, not enjoyment.

Stateside, Hailey's thoughts were littered with the little Spanish girl that Jay had saved. She'd be lying if she didn't see a connection between you two. How much you trusted him and how he looked at you with the light in his eyes that was only ever seen when he was at home. During these months on deployment during their weekly Skype calls, Hailey had only seen that light once: the call when you were next to him.

"You seem happy," Mouse pointed out as Jay was tying his boots the next morning, about to go grab breakfast from the chow hall.

"They said that Y/N can go outside and play now. She's been asking to go outside for the past three days. And now she finally can."

"You really care about her, don't you?"

"She's just a kid, man," Jay answered. "And the way we found her, what she must've gone through. I just want to make her feel safe."

"I get it. Just don't get too attached. You gotta go out one more time before you leave."

Mouse was right of course. He did have to leave the base and go into no man's land one more time to stand guard with Mouse, Logans, and a few others before the end of his deployment in two weeks.

Jay slumped his shoulders. "What if something happens to me when we're out there?"

"What?" Jay had never spoken like that before. His focus was always on the task ahead of him. His best friend had never heard him ask a question like that before in their three deployments together or during risky raids back in Chicago as part of the Intelligence Unit.

"What if they find us and we don't come back? What's Y/N going to think? That I abandoned her? That I broke a promise to her?"

"Jay, man, you are getting way too close to this kid. If it's gonna affect the way that you do your job, you gotta take a step back."

"I know that. What if I-- you know what? Forget it."

Jay stood up to go brush his teeth, but Mouse followed him.

"C'mon, Jay. Talk to me."

Jay sighed. "Fine. But not here. Let's go grab our guns."

After grabbing their guns, the two walked to a secluded space on the base, a place where they usually cleaned their weapons. And, since it was so early, no one was around they could talk freely. But, they had to make it look like they were here to clean their weapons, which is why Jay had his sniper rifle on the table, already unscrewing it, ready to clean the barrel.

"What if I didn't go?" Jay asked breaking the silence.

"Go where? What are you talking about?" Mouse asked, taking apart his gun as well.

"What if, the next time we have to leave Base, I didn't go. What if I just stayed behind."

"You can't do that! One, Smith would find out pretty damn fast. And two, you can be dishonorably discharged for insubordination for going against the orders of a superior officer! Are you crazy?"

"Smith's got kids, right?" Jay asked, referring to their captain.

"I think so. Why?"

"Maybe if I talked to him and told him the reason that I want to stay back is because of Y/N, then maybe he'd let me."

"You know you wouldn't be getting out of this unscathed, right? You'd be on kitchen or latrine duty for the rest of the tour."

"I know that," Jay groaned.

They worked in comfortable silence for a few minutes until Mouse broke it. "You really have a soft spot for this girl, don't you?"

"Yeah, yeah I do." Jay paused, putting his gun back together. "I just, I wonder where she's gonna go after she gets better. She was at an orphanage before we found her, a place that was supposed to keep her safe, Mouse. And, the way we found her, they obviously didn't do their jobs."

"You know who might know where she's going?"

They both looked at each other and nodded. Diaz.

"Emilia," Jay said in a sing-song voice as he saw Emilia round the corner in the chow hall with her breakfast.

"Oh, no. You only use that voice when you want something," she said as she headed to her table.

Jay and Mouse sat down across from her. "Well, you're not wrong."

"The number of times I heard that voice in high school when he wanted to cheat off my homework was astronomical, Mouse," Emilia said.

"In my defense, it wasn't cheating. It was checking my answers." Emilia raised an eyebrow. "Fine. It was checking my answers and changing them."

"That's better. Now, what do you two want?"

Mouse held his hands up in surrender. "It's all Jay this time."

Emilia turned her attention to Jay. "What do you want?"

"I know that you're on good terms with basically everybody here, so I was wondering if maybe you'd know where Y/N is going once she gets better?"

Emilia sighed, knowing the attachment Jay had to you. "Last I heard is that she's gonna go back to another orphanage."

"Any idea when that might be?"

"Maybe a month, month and a half at most."

"So, we'll essentially be getting her to feel comfortable and safe here and then she'll just up and move again."

"When you put it like that, yeah. I'm sorry, Jay."

"Yeah, thanks." He turned to Mouse. "Let's go grab some breakfast."

***

Jay walked into Captain Smith's office, nervous as hell. "Captain," Jay spoke with a curt nod.

"Halstead, what can I do for you? I've been meaning to tell Diaz that that was a good idea on how to get the little girl's bear away from her."

"Thank you, sir. I'll be sure to pass that on to her."

"How is the little girl?"

"Doing better, sir. She's been asking to go outside and play, so I'll probably stop by later to take her outside, maybe start a soccer game."

"She'd probably like that. Now, I can tell that you didn't just come in here to update me on how she's doing. Would I be correct?"

"You're correct, sir. I came to ask you if there is any way that I don't have to go out on my next scheduled guard post."

"I'm assuming that I don't have to tell you that if I tell you that you have to go and you refuse, that that would be grounds for insubordination."

"No, sir."

"Can I ask what prompted this?" Captain Smith had heard stories about Jay's time in Afghanistan and the man in front of him never backed down from a fight.

"It's Y/N, the girl I rescued, sir. She feels safe with me and I don't want to leave her. I don't want to be another person who leaves her." Jay hoped his captain understood the unspoken words that the sentiment conveyed.

"Halstead, I understand where you're coming from. I have kids of my own and I'd be lying if I told you that whenever I have to go off base in combat, that they aren't at the forefront of my mind. But, it's what we signed up for. I'm sorry, but there's nothing I can do.

"I understand, sir. Thank you for your time."

***

"Hey, cariña," Jay said happily as he walked into your room just before ten o'clock. "Did you get new clothes?" he asked, overexaggerating his surprise.

"Yes! Emilia give them to me!"

You were currently in a pair of shorts and a way too big t-shirt that was made tighter by bringing the back together using a hair tie. Emilia had taken a pair of shorts she had with her (no doubt to be used on one of the rare days when they got to go into the city) and had cut and sewn them so they were smaller.

"She did, did she?"

"Yeah!"

"Are you ready to go outside?"

You jumped out of bed at that. "Go outside! Go outside!"

You grabbed his hand and practically dragged him out of the room. Who knew you could have so much strength in that little body of yours? Jay could barely stop and tell a nurse where you were going. But, then he laughed, seeing as you were going in the wrong direction.

"Wrong way, cariña," he laughed as he stopped walking.

"Oh." You scrunched up your eyebrows. "You go first."

"Okay, I'll go first. Do you want to keep going mano a mano so that you don't get lost?"

Your eyes lit up when he spoke the bit of Spanish. You nodded and Jay continued to hold onto your little hand as he led you outside.

When you and Jay got outside, you were met with a big group of soldiers, some women, but mostly men. One was holding a soccer ball. Jay put his fingers in his mouth and let out a shrill whistle to gather everyone's attention.

The one holding the ball turned to face them. "Can you guys add two more?"

"I think so. What's her name?" the soldier asked Jay.

"Her name's Y/N."

"Hi, Y/N. Do you want to be a captain? You get to pick who's on your team."

You looked up at Jay as if asking for his permission and he nodded. "Okay! But, I want Jay and Emilia."

"We can do that." Then, he turned back to the group. "Hey, whoever wants in on this game, line up! Me and Y/N are captains. And, she's already got dibs on Halstead and Diaz!"

A few grumbled, they knew Jay was one of the best at soccer having played in high school, and kept it up as a hobby after that. Everyone lined up and you started picking teams. Jay mouthed something to the other captain and he nodded, knowing that they were going to let your team win and not put up a fight when you went to score goals.

***

"Hey, Halstead!" Logans yelled to Jay once he had dropped you off to your room for lunch...and a bath seeing how dirty you had gotten playing soccer in the sand.

Jay turned and raised his eyebrows. He hadn't expected to see Logans right now. But, he didn't mind. The two had grown close just because they had to go on missions together.

"Few of us are going into Seville, wanna tag along?" Chad Logans finished.

"Uh, yeah, sure. Mind if Emilia comes too? You know, for translation purposes."

"Yeah, for translation purposes," Logans mocked.

Jay laughed. "Dude, you've got it all wrong. We went to high school together and one time we got dared to kiss each other, and it was like I was kissing my sister."

"Talkin' about me, Halstead?" Emilia asked, sneaking up behind him.

"Jesus Christ!" Jay jumped. "Don't scare me like that!"

"Aw, the man who plays with big guns is scared of a little translator. I'm honored."

"Shut up," Jay retorted, rolling his eyes. "So, assuming you didn't hear the first half of our conversation, you wanna head into Seville? Apparently, there's a bit more room on the truck."

"Sure, why not. I'm off for the rest of the day anyway."

"Good, because we're getting Y/N's necklace fixed and I need you to translate."

"And make sure you don't get ripped off."

"That too."

***

"What about this one?" Jay asked Emilia, holding up a silver chain.

"Jay, I know you're a man, but Jesus, I thought you were smarter than this!"

"What? What did I do wrong?"

"Take out the locket and look closely at it along with the chain. Go."

Jay pulled the locket out of one of the many pockets of his pants and held it next to the chain. "So? One's silver and one's gold."

"Exactly. You can't have a silver chain go with a gold locket. We need to find a gold chain. C'mon, put it back and we'll keep looking."

"Women," Jay scoffed.

"I can almost guarantee if you said that to Hailey that she'd have your balls in a blender so fast, Halstead."

"It's why I married her. Strong, independent, beautiful, and not to mention she's the one who calls me out on my shit almost daily."

"As she should."

"You should come around more often when we're both Stateside again. I think you and Hailey would get along really well. Also, you can see Will."

"Would you stop trying to set me up with your brother? He's not my type, we've been through this, many, many times actually."

"But, if I remember correctly, you do have a thing for doctors."

"It was my freshman year of college and he was a med student. Don't blame me for liking guys who are a few years older than me. They're more mature for one."

"Will's older than me," Jay pointed out.

"If he's anything like you then, he sure as hell ain't mature."

"That hurt, Emilia, that really did."

"Shut up. Now, let's keep looking, we only have a limited amount of time here in the city."

The two friends continued to walk through the cobblestone streets of Seville and look at all the small booths. Jay had bought some hard candy, despite Emilia telling him that he should save his money for the chain. To which he replied by saying that he had more than enough money and that Emilia was here to make sure that he didn't get ripped off after all.

"You're not gonna eat your candy, Halstead?" Emilia asked.

"They're not for me. They're for Y/N."

"I should've known when you got the bear-shaped ones and got a mix of flavors. I know you don't like grape-flavored stuff."

"Who does? It's gross! Tastes like medicine."

"I like it!"

"Of course you do, if my memory serves me correctly, the day we took the ACTs junior year, you came to school high on that nasty grape cough syrup."

"I was not going to reschedule that test and put myself through that panic again. So, yes, I came to school when I probably shouldn't have. But, I was not high!"

"Whatever you say."

"I still scored higher than you. There was no I would've been able to do that if I was high...or maybe there was. You weren't the brightest crayon in the box back in high school."

"Crayon in the box? What are you? Five?"

"Yes, now c'mon, let's keep looking for that chain before that candy ends up melting into a big ball of multi-colored goo."

***

"What about this one?" Jay asked, holding up a gold chain.

"You know, that one might work. Just let me talk to the seller for a second to see if we can slip the charm on it to see if it looks good and if it fits."

"Go for it. That's why I brought you, isn't it?"

"Shut up."

Emilia started to talk to the woman who ran the small jewelry booth and asked her if they could slip the locket on the chain to see if it fit. At least, that's what Jay assumed they were talking about...he barely spoke Spanish save for a few key words and phrases.

"What do you think?" Emilia asked as she held up the chain with the locket on it. "I think it looks good."

Jay looked at it. The chain was definitely cleaner than the locket. The locket had some dirt and grime stuck in its little crevices, but he figured once it got cleaned the colors would probably match up nicely. He figured that you'd just be excited to get your necklace back, no matter whether or not the gold from the chain and the gold from the locket matched perfectly.

"Me too," Jay agreed. "Just tell me how much it is."

She spoke to the shop owner one more time and then told Jay how much it was and he paid for the chain.

"Do you think she'll like it?" Jay asked as they continued their walk through the town.

"Jay, stop second-guessing yourself. She'll love it. Where's all this coming from? I know kid cases used to hit you hard, even when you worked for the police back in Chicago, but I've never seen something like this hit you this hard."

"You know I did two tours before this, right?"

"We've been best friends since high school, kind of hard to forget something as big as that."

"Right, sorry. Uh, on my last tour, there was this- there was this eight-year-old girl. She uh, she had a beautiful face, dark skin. My nine--the bullet from my gun--it went through a combatant and then through a doorway."

"Jay, you don't have to justify this. If it brings you back there, I don't--"

"No, it's okay. You deserve an explanation." He was quiet for a moment. "Anyway, the bullet went through the doorway, and then it uh, it ripped open her neck." He closed his eyes for a moment, willing himself not to cry. "She didn't die right away though. I sat there, with her. I held her hand, told her that she wasn't alone. Sometimes, I still have nightmares about it."

"So, when you saw Y/N, you thought that you could save her because you didn't save that little girl?"

"Exactly. What makes it worse is that she's the same age as that girl was when I, when I--"

"Jay, you didn't shoot her. You had no intention of shooting her. It was an accident. I know I can't erase what happened, but it was not your fault."

They walked in silence after that, neither knowing what to say.

"What do you think about me bringing Y/N home with me when I leave?" Jay asked after they walked in silence for ten minutes, just looking at other booths.

"Like adopting her?"

"When you put it like that, yeah I guess."

"I think that you and Hailey share one brain."

"What do you mean?"

"Hailey asked me the same thing. And before you ask how I talked to her, remember that I work with computers, Jay. And, Mouse knows how to hack said computers."

"So, you called her?"

"Precisely."

"And what'd you two talk about?"

"The usual, how you were doing, how she was doing. She also said that she hasn't seen you this happy on base in a long time. She wants the same thing you do, Jay. Even though she's only seen it through one video call, she knows how good you are with Y/N and understands how much it will break her when you have to leave."

"So, she wants to adopt Y/N, too?"

"Yes, dummy! But, you guys need to have a conversation about that because I don't think I was supposed to tell you."

"You think it could happen? Us adopting her even though I'm in a different country right now?"

"I'm sure there have been other scenarios like this one before. But, you'll have to talk to Hailey about this, because she probably has some connections who can work with you Stateside on this because of you two being Chicago cops and all that. But hey, if it does somehow work out, you and Hailey seem like you'd make great parents."

***

Jay and Emilia barely made it back into Base before their names were being called.

"Halstead! Diaz! We need you to Med Station now!"

The minute Jay heard Med Station mentioned, he took off running.

"What's going on?" he asked the nurse who stood in front of your room.

"Did she go outside today?" she asked.

"Yes, we played soccer. Why is she screaming? What's wrong?"

"She was bitten by a tick and has what we call tick paralysis. Even though we got a translator in there to explain what was going on, she won't let us remove it. And, we need to give her some antibiotics as well, which requires an IV and she won't let us do that either. She just kept asking for you."

"You want me to get that tick off of her and plunge that needle into her? No way!"

"Jay," Emilia started, "it might be the only way to stop the paralysis and to get her to calm down. She trusts you. I know it's gonna suck because you're scared of needles, but you have to do it."

"Can't you do it? Please Em."

"She's asking for you."

Jay sighed. "All I have to do is get the tick off and then push the meds?"

"Yes, that's all."

"Okay."

He entered your room and to say that you were distraught would be an absolute understatement. You had tears running down your face at an alarmingly fast rate and your cries had reduced to panicked whimpers. You were staring at your legs, willing them to move, but they just wouldn't.

"Hey cariña," Jay said gently.

"J-Jay?" you asked, looking at him.

Jay crouched down next you and took your little hand in his. "Hey, hey, it's okay. Is it okay if I help you feel better?"

"How? I no want an aguja," you whined.

Jay looked to Emilia. "Needle," she translated.

"Y/N, I'm gonna let you in on a little secret. I don't like agujas either. But, they have special medicine in them that make you feel better. And, once I get the insect off of you and give the medicine, you'll feel all better."

"You promise?"

"I promise. And, I have a surprise for you, too."

"You do?"

"I do. But you have to let me give you the medicine and then you can get it, okay?"

"Okay."

"Can someone get me some gloves?" he asked.

A nurse came back with a pair of blue surgical gloves for him. "Would you like some help with this?" she asked him.

Yes, Jay had seen needles inserted into IV lines dozens of times, but he's never actually done it. "Please," he answered.

The nurse helped guide Jay's hand to where he was supposed to put the needle into, but you were intently watching his every move.

"Miras otro lado, cariña," Emilia said and you proceeded to look at the wall on the other side of you instead of looking at Jay putting the needle in.

"3...2..." Before he got to one, he pushed, causing you to let out a small whimper that absolutely broke his heart.

"She should be out soon," the nurse said. "And then we can remove the tick and she'll be back to normal in no time. Good work, Halstead."

"Thank you ma'am."

Jay was about to leave, when he remembered something. "Where was the tick?"

"It was on her foot."

"Because she didn't have shoes on when we were playing soccer earlier," Jay stated as he put the pieces together, once a detective, always a detective.

"You can't blame yourself. You didn't know there'd be a tick."

"Jay," Mouse said as he entered the room. "Hailey's on the phone for you."

He looked at Emilia. "Promise to come get me when she wakes up?"

"I promise."

***

"Hey, Hails."

"Hey, Jay. What's wrong?" she asked, immediately concerned at how down Jay looked.

"It's just that, me and Y/N went outside and played soccer today, and then I got back from going to Seville with Emilia to get stuff to fix her necklace, and then she got bit by a tick. She had tick paralysis. She couldn't move her legs, Hailey. She was so scared. I had to push the needle into her and I felt so bad because I know it hurt her."

"Oh, honey. It's okay. She's gonna be okay and she'll love you for fixing her necklace that she won't even remember how much that needle hurt."

"Thanks, but that doesn't make me feel any better. I was the one who hurt her."

"No, you made her feel better. Without that medication, she probably would've stayed paralyzed. Don't beat yourself up here Jay, you're trying your best."

"But what if I'm not?"

"Jay, listen to me. That little girl loves you. You're the happiest I've ever seen you when you're with her and when you're talking about her."

"Emilia told me you'd say that."

"Because it's true. Wait, what else did she tell you?"

"Hey, don't be mad at her, but I like the idea of adopting Y/N, too."

"Really? You don't think it's too sudden or that it's the wrong choice?"

"Not at all. I think it's the right choice, actually. They were gonna send her to another orphanage in a month anyway, so if we can get everything set up somehow and get the paperwork in order, I think it would work," Jay answered.

"I'm pretty sure Voight has some contacts at DCFS who know how these types of international adoptions work. I'll reach out."

"Awesome. Think you could convince Ruz to help you paint the guest room purple?"

"For Y/N's bedroom? You're getting way too ahead of yourself, soldier. Let's just get the paperwork sorted first."

Jay talked to Hailey for a few more minutes and then started to walk back to his barracks to change and have a shower. After being out in the heat of Seville in the middle of the day, it was very much needed. But, he stopped when he saw Captain Smith approaching him.

"Halstead."

"Captain," Jay said and then stood at attention.

"At ease. I heard you did a good thing to help Y/N with that tick paralysis scare she had a bit ago. You really care about her, don't you?"

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

"About that change in position you asked me about earlier, after seeing how good you were with her, I think I can take you up on that. That is if you're still okay with it."

"I am. Where am I needed, sir?"

"Report to the kitchens at 0500."

"Thank you, sir."

***

Jay was almost asleep in the very uncomfortable chair in your hospital room when he heard your soft whimpers. You hadn't woken up yet after being given the antibiotics and the sedative, but it was nighttime and Jay didn't want you to wake up and he not be there, since it was dark. He didn't want to you wake up and be scared all alone.

"Y/N, cariña, what's wrong?" He turned pulled his flashlight out of his pocket and turned it on to be met with your tear-stained face.

"I-I scared."

Jay moved his chair to be closer to you. "Why are you scared, cariña? Maybe talking about it will help?"

"I scared of not feeling my legs. What if happens again?"

"Oh, cariña. The reason that happened is that an insect got on your leg. But, the doctors took it away so it can't bite you and hurt you again."

"You sure?"

"I am very sure. Now, I don't know if you remember, but I told you I had something for you before I gave you that medicine earlier. Do you remember that?"

"A little bit."

Jay reached into his pants pocket and pulled out the necklace. He had locked the candy in his trunk back in his barracks so that his body heat wouldn't melt it and so that no one would steal it.

"I told you I'd fix it," he said as he held up the necklace, the locket spinning in small circles.

"You did it! You did it! Thank you, Jay!"

"You're welcome. want me to put it on you?"

"Por favor."

Jay unclasped the necklace and carefully put it on you and then secured the clasp. The minute it was on, you opened the locket and looked at the two pictures in there, you looked at your mom and dad, at your mami and papi.

"Is that your mommy and daddy?" Jay asked carefully.

"Yes, my mami and papi," you answered, still looking down at their pictures. "I miss them."

"I miss my mommy and daddy, too," Jay answered.

"Your mami and papi in America? They see you when you come back?"

"No. Actually, uh..." God, he really hoped you knew the word dead in English because he didn't feel like trying to explain it to you. "They died. I don't have a mommy and daddy either."

"You do not?"

"I do not. But, I know they still love me. And I know yours still love you."

"Because they are always in my corazón." You pointed to your heart, your actual heart, not the locket.

"Yes, they will always be in your heart, that's right."

"When I couldn't sleep, my mami or my papi would lay next to me and tell me a story. Will you do that, Jay?"

"You want me to lay next to you?"

"Yes, please," you said. Jay started to get on your bed, but you stopped him. "No!" He abruptly froze. "You have to take your shoes off. Mami always said no shoes on the bed."

"You know what? You're right! How could I forget that? My mommy always told me the same thing."

Jay removed his heavy boots and then got into bed next to you. You immediately laid your head against his chest, just like you had done when your mami or papi was in your bed about to tell you a bedtime story, which shocked Jay.

"Okay, cariña, what kind of story do you want?"

"How you meet Hailey?"

"How'd I meet Hailey?" You nodded excitedly. "Well, I was policia in Chicago and so was she, but we didn't work together."

"Why not?"

"We were in different units."

"Like how you a sold--" you furrowed your eyebrows as you tried to remember the word in English, "--soldier and how Emilia es intérprete, like how she speaks English and Spanish?"

Jay assumed that intérprete meant translator, so he nodded. "That's exactly right! You're so smart! Me and Hailey were in different units, so we didn't work together. But, one day, my unit got called to a robbery. Do you know what a robbery is?"

"Where they take something that isn't theirs and they do not pay for it."

"That's right. Hailey got called to that and tried to take it away from me, but we had to work together."

"You no like her at first?"

Jay chuckled because no, he did not like her at first. But, he had to admit, her commanding the attention of everyone in that bank, well that was hot, it was really hot. "No, I didn't. But, then I saw how good of a person she was and we got really close."

"Like you and Emilia?"

"Kind of. But, we met in school. And, we don't kiss."

"Just amigos."

"Just amigos," Jay confirmed.

"Then what happened? With you and Hailey?"

"It took me a while to actually kiss her," he admitted.

"How long?"

"Almost four years."

"That's a long time! Why it take you so long?"

"Because I was scared."

"But you big and strong. You no get scared. Only kids like me get scared."

"That's not true. Adults get scared, too." You cocked your head to the side. "Oh yeah, adults get scared, too."

"When are you scared?"

"I was scared earlier when I had to put that needle in your arm to make you feel better."

"But why? You didn't have it go in your skin. It didn't hurt you."

"I was scared I was going to hurt you. I didn't want you to not like me because I had to poke you with a needle because I don't like them either."

"So you scared of n-needles, too?"

"Oh yeah. When I was little and had to go to the doctor's, my mom would always have to give me ice cream to make me get needles in my skin."

"Like how you promised me the necklace?"

"Exactly."

"You tell me another story?"

"What do you want to hear?"

"How you meet Emilia?"

"Oh, now this, this is a good story. When I was a little older than you, probably twelve, I was at the park with my big brother, Will, and we were playing soccer. Emilia came up and she wanted to play, too. I told her that she couldn't because she was a girl. I know, mean right? Then, Will told me that she could play and that I was being mean and she beat me at soccer. She played so much better than me..."

He looked down to see if you were paying attention or if you were confused because he hadn't stopped to check for your comprehension, but he was met with the cutest sight in the world that made his heart swell out of his chest. You, were asleep on his chest, one hand gripping your locket and the other holding his army green t-shirt in your little fist.

***

"Hey lunch lady, how's it going in there?" Emilia asked as she held your hand and you two made your way into the cafeteria a few days later.

"Technically, it's breakfast and I'm a man, so it's breakfast man to you."

"Fine. How's it going in there, breakfast man?"

"It's fine. But good god, if I thought the barracks required a lot of cleaning, this place requires a fu--"

"Jay! Little ears!"

"--A lot. This place requires a lot more cleaning than the barracks."

"So, what's on the menu today?" Mouse asked.

"Same old, same old." Jay shrugged. "Oatmeal, eggs, and sausage."

"And coffee."

"That too, obviously."

"I want that bowl of oatmeal," Mouse stated as he tried to reach for it, but Jay pulled it back towards him.

"Nuh-uh. Get your grubby hands away from this. This is for Y/N."

He handed the bowl to Emilia who passed it to you. "It's got bananas in it!" you exclaimed excitedly. "But, what's this stuff?"

"Mantequilla de cacahuete," Emilia aswered you in your first language. "How did you get ahold of extra peanut butter, Halstead?"

"A chef never reveals his secrets. Now get outta here. You're holding up my line."

"Don't forget about the call with Hailey today," Emilia reminded him.

"I can't ever forget about those. But for this, I'm counting down the minutes."

***

"Hey Hails," Jay greeted as he answered his video call with his wife. "Is everything alright? You missed the call last time."

"I know, I'm really sorry. I was just trying to get all this paperwork in order and I had to find all your information and had to get references and-- I'm sorry, I'm rambling, aren't I?"

"Hails, it's fine. I'd listen to you ramble all day when I'm out here. I just love to hear your voice."

"You're so whipped, Halstead."

"As are you, Mrs. Halstead."

"I love it when you call me that."

"Mrs. Halstead, do you have any update about the Y/N situation? I didn't mention anything to her yet because I didn't want to get her hopes up."

"Actually, that's the main reason I'm calling you...and because our calls are scheduled. But, everything's in order. I just finished the home inspection literally five minutes ago."

"So that's why the house is so clean."

"Shut up. Anyway, everything's in order. She just needs to get a few documents in order, which Emilia is helping me with since we need Y/N's picture. She also got me in touch with your captain and he reached out to someone he knows who works in some office or something for foreign-born orphans near where you guys are to get a passport for Y/N. They'll just need to interview you a few days after you get home, but they said unless you're not the person you say you are, that we should be able to keep Y/N."

"You're serious?"

"100%."

"Shit, Hails, this is- this is amazing. I love you, you know that? We're gonna have a daughter."

"It's amazing isn't it?"

Jay's eyes began to tear up. "Yeah, it is. And to think, if I would've just glanced over that teddy bear like it was nothing, then she wouldn't be coming with home me, home to us. I know I haven't even known her for three weeks yet, but I just want to do everything in my power to keep her safe, to make her feel loved."

"That's what a dad's supposed to do."

That's what a dad's supposed to do.

"I'm gonna be a dad," Jay realized. "And you're gonna be a mom. What if I'm no good at this, Hailey? What if I mess up like my dad did? What if--"

"Jay, listen to me. You are going to be a great father to that little girl. You know how I know that? Because you're not even her dad yet and that girl loves you. She loves you, Jay. She loves you so much."

"And I know she's going to love too, Hailey Halstead." The phone binged, telling him that he had only one more minute to talk to his wife. "You're going to be a great mom, Hails. Now, I have to go tell Y/N the good news. I have to go tell our kid the good news."

***

Emilia was sitting in front of you on your bed and your tongue was slightly hanging out of your mouth in concentration as you focused on braiding her hair. "Emilia teaching you how to braid, cariña?" Jay asked.

"Yeah! I know a little before, but she helping me."

"That's good. Maybe you can braid Hailey's hair at home."

If you weren't holding Emilia's hair, she would've whipped around to face Jay. She knew what that sentence meant.

"Are you almost done, Y/N? I think Jay needs to tell you something," Emilia said.

"Are you leaving?" you asked, turning towards him and letting go of Emilia's hair altogether. Whenever people said that they had to tell you something, it was almost always bad news. "I do not want you to leave! Please stay!"

You jumped off the bed and grabbed onto Jay.

He crouched down to your height. "Hey, hey, it's okay. I'm not leaving you, I promise."

"Jay, let me take it from here, okay? It might be better if I explain it to her in her first language."

"No, I should do it. You're not gonna be with me all the time back in Chicago. I'm gonna need to stop relying on you at some point."

"Okay, but I'll stay here in case she gets confused."

"Y/N, do you know what adoption is?"

"¿Cómo adopción?" you asked. The word sounded similar in both languages, so you hoped you and Jay were talking about the same thing.

Jay looked to Emilia and she nodded. "Adopción, sí," Jay confirmed. "Me and Hailey talked and we want to adopt you. Do you want that? To come home with me when I leave and live with me and Hailey?"

"You be my mami and papi?"

Jay knew that he was going to have to answer this question eventually, but he didn't want you to feel like he and Hailey were replacing your real mom and dad. "Um, yeah, we would. But, you don't have to call us that," he added quickly. "You can call us Jay and Hailey if you want. We don't want to take the place of your parents because they're very special to you."

"And they always be in my heart?"

"That's right, they'll always be in your heart."

"But, you and Hailey be my parents in real life and not just in my heart and I go to Chicago with you and see the snow?"

"That's right. If you want--"

You hugged him, which took him off guard, but he wrapped his arms around you and held you close.

"Thank you, te quiero."

Emilia put a hand to her mouth and held back tears after you said that.

"What? What did she say?" Jay asked anxiously.

"Jay, she said she loves you."

And, before Jay started to cry, he barely choked out, "Me, too. Te quiero, cariña."

***

The flight from Spain to Chicago went surprisingly well for you and Jay. The flight was late at night because, before finding you, he had hoped he'd be able to sleep on the flight home. But, you had never been on a plane before, so during the entire plane ride, Jay stayed awake just in case you got scared or your ears popped and started to hurt.

Jay had saved the hard candies that were shaped like little bears for the plane ride and you both ate them. He told you that they were all for you, but you insisted on sharing them. But, whenever he'd get a grape-flavored one, he'd hand it to you since he hated that flavor. You didn't like the lime ones very much, so you gave him those ones. But, both of you had the same favorite flavor: strawberry.

During the flight, you ate candy and Jay showed you all the places in Chicago that he would take you to from the flight magazines. He showed you Navy Pier, the Bean, the Chicago theater, Gino's East, Miracle Mile, and all the other things in those touristy magazines. You had never gone on a Ferris wheel before, but from the picture in the magazine about the one on Navy Pier and from Jay's description, it sounded super fun!

The fasten seatbelt sign came on as you were starting to descend into Midway airport. Despite all the bad memories he had here with Keyes kidnapping him all those years ago before he reenlisted, and before he even met Hailey, he knew that this new happy memory, of bringing you home, would outweigh that horrible memory.

He looked over to make sure that you had your seatbelt on and snapped a picture of your sleeping form. You were using Osito as a pillow and had a blanket messily draped over you, and one hand lazily rest on Jay.

Luckily for Jay, you didn't wake up when he maneuvered himself to be able to put his seatbelt on. But, the minute you hit the runaway, your eyes shot open.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," Jay reassured you. "We're just getting on the ground again."

You grabbed the hem of his shirt and squeezed a little bit until the bumpiness died down and you came to a slow roll at the end of the runway.

"We here? In Chicago?" you asked.

"We are. Welcome home, cariña."

A/N: This has sat in my drafts for a longggg time. But, I got inspired today and ended up writing 5k words to finish it up. I'm thinking of writing a part 2 to this when the reader is in her teen years. What do you think? Side note, daddy! Jay and big brother! Jay are my two favorite Jays if you couldn't already tell! Please reblog/like and comment and tell me what you think! Also, if you want to be added to my taglist, just comment and I’ll add you!

taglist: @theambracer88 @virtualreader @kelelas-life @celyndavies @brookerz122493 @musicismyescape27 @anotherfan07 @thexplosivegirl @dreamingwithlens @xoxmariaxox

#jay halstead #chicago pd #jay halstead imagine #ranger! jay #fanfiction #chicago pd imagine #chicago pd fanfiction #imagine #writer #writing

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sadaboutniall · 4 years

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something about you;

introduction | masterlist | tag | wattpad

Fourteen. March, 2013.

**this chapter contains smut. 18+ only please**

Niall was fourteen years old the first time he thought about standing at the altar and locking eyes with Isla. When it actually happens, he’s 19.

Except when he imagined it, he was wearing a black groom's suit, and Isla was wearing a white dress and she was walking toward him while the organist played Pachelbel's Canon and she tried not to cry from happiness. When it actually does happen, he’s wearing an usher’s suit and Isla is standing up in the pews wearing a blue satin dress, smiling softly as Denise walks down the aisle toward Niall’s brother.

He’s supposed to be watching Denise, he knows—it’s her moment, and she’s spent ages picking out the perfect dress—but he can’t keep his eyes off Isla, her skin tanner than it was the last time he saw her, her baby blue dress cut low enough to show off her necklace, a solitary pearl in the middle of a dainty silver chain. It feels like a cruel punch in the gut, an intentional twist of fate, that this is how things turned out.

Denise reaches the altar as all eyes—and the set of cameras, filming for This Is Us—turn towards them. It’s so quick that Niall doesn’t have the time to turn away, to pretend like he wasn’t openly staring at Isla when he should have been fawning over Denise. They catch each other’s eyes for a second and it’s enough: enough to set Niall’s heart off on a runaway, enough to wake up the butterflies in his stomach, enough to bring a red flush to his cheeks, enough to make him swallow thick, to hope he can pass this all off as nerves.

Isla smiles at him, dimples and pink lipstick and big brown eyes and Niall feels that familiar kick in his stomach, that fire in his lower belly. Isla’s biting back a giggle and Niall shakes his head at her, as subtle as he can manage, smile tugging at his cheeks.

She still has him.

He doesn’t get to see her until the reception. The party is massive and Niall’s getting pulled in every single direction: grannies and aunties who want to pinch his cheeks, grandads and uncles who want a beer, cousins who want to know if Harry Styles is really dating Taylor Swift or not. He doesn’t get a moment to himself for hours, until his mam swoops into a conversation between him and a curious cousin, barrages her with questions about uni, and gives Niall a knowing look. He drops her a kiss on her cheek as a thank you and slips out unnoticed, escaping up the stairs and into the residential hallway of the old inn they’ve transformed into a stunning reception venue.

He leans against one of the walls and breathes out, listening to the muffled hum of the party downstairs. Even after three years of this it doesn’t get any easier, having to talk to people all the time. Always being on. It’s fucking exhausting, actually, and he very suddenly wants to go to sleep.

‘Nialler?’ Mully’s poking his head out of one of the bedrooms, a smile on his face. ‘Thought we heard you coming up the stairs. You wanna come in, mate?’

‘What the fuck are you lot doing up here?’ Niall asks, but the answer is yes, of course he does. Fuck sleep if the other option is getting into trouble with his friends.

‘Just having a bit of craic,’ Mully says, and Niall slips into the bedroom, air thick with smoke, lights turned down low, windows cracked open. They’re there, the three of them: Emilia sitting on the bed, Mully with him by the door, Isla on a cushy armchair that she’s dragged to the edge of the bed, her feet resting on the mattress. This is bad for his voice and he shouldn’t be here but fuck it, he thinks, letting the door close softly behind him. This is where he wants to be.

‘Heya, Niall,’ Emilia holds the joint out toward him as a greeting. ‘You did so well today! I bet that was super nerve wracking, being up there for all that.’

‘Ah, come off it,’ says Mully. ‘He’s a performer now, petal. That was nothing for him.’

‘Denise looked so beautiful,’ Isla redirects expertly, her dark eyes glinting in the low light of the room. She’s sipping from a bottle of white wine and she’s pulled her hair back into a low bun, exposing the length of her neck. Niall coughs, smoke settling in his lungs. ‘Her dress was stunning.’

Emilia agrees and Niall finds himself a spot on the floor, while Mully sits back down next to Emilia. His hand naturally gravitates to her thigh and Niall finds himself staring, watching the way his big hand settles comfortably, squeezes softly. When he looks up, Isla is watching him, too.

He swallows thick, tries to ignore the tightening in his lower belly. ‘I can’t believe you all came home for this. Really fucking sound of you.’

‘S’alright,’ Mully says. ‘Reading week’s bullshit anyway. And the flight from London is so quick.’

‘Still,’ says Niall, looking anywhere but Isla. ‘Expensive.’

‘Group deal,’ Mully says, oblivious to the growing tension in the room. ‘Since we bought them together.’

‘Ah, that’s, erm. That’s grand,’ Niall manages. ‘Lucky you all ended up doing uni in London, then.’

Mully keeps talking—something about how great it is to have friends who go to different unis in the same city, because it makes a massive conglomerate friend group that’s great for nights out—but Niall can’t focus like this, with Isla sitting so that her thigh is at his eye level, her dress bunched up so he can see just too much. He can’t focus with the way her hand drops into her own lap, her eyes locked on Niall’s, the tips of her fingers playing along the hemline of her dress. He can’t focus when she smiles, holds out the frosty bottle of wine she’s been drinking, an offering.

He can’t focus, so he takes it.

The wine is cold and it makes him shiver as it goes down. There are goosebumps rising on his skin and, fuck, he can’t think straight, the alcohol and the weed and Isla, mouth parted, reaching out for the bottle again. His fingers brush hers as he hands it back and it’s enough, that’s enough, to make him hiss.

She still has him.

‘Sean, love,’ Emilia is saying, eyes on Isla, smile growing on her face. ‘I want another drink. Will you come down with me and get one?’

‘I can get ya one,’ Mully’s oblivious, still talking about London. ‘You can stay up here.’

‘No, no,’ Emilia’s already making to stand and in that moment Niall doesn’t think he’s ever had a better friend in his life than Emilia. The Universe really had his back, all those years ago, when she and her family moved to Mullingar. ‘I wanna take a walk. Let’s go.’

‘But Nialler just got here. We were talking.’

‘Sean,’ Emilia shakes her head, touching Mully’s shoulder firmly. ‘Come and get a drink with me.’

Mully’s clueless still but it does the job, Emilia urging him along, and they leave in a rush of apologies, Mully promising to come back up as quickly as possible, Emilia shooting Isla looks that Niall doesn’t understand. The door clicks shut softly behind them and then they’re in the silence, him and Isla, Niall’s heart kicking hard against his ribs with just as much urgency as it does when he’s on stage in front of thousands, all of them screaming his name.

‘More wine?’ Isla asks, holding out the bottle. Her nails are painted black and she’s wearing thin, silver rings on almost every finger and Niall can’t stop looking, can’t stop watching, can’t stop thinking.

‘Cheers,’ he takes it from her, fingers brushing hers, and goes for a swig, cold, fresh, sweet, down the back of his throat. He lets it settle in his stomach, aware of Isla’s eyes on his neck as he swallows.

‘Your dress,’ he says, handing the bottle back. ‘It really suits you.’

‘Thanks,’ Isla brings the bottle to her lips, eyes on Niall over the top of it. ‘I like you in a tie.’

‘They’re a bit restrictive,’ Niall says, fingers coming up to tug at the knot. He’s just realized how hot it’s gotten in the room—stuffy and electric, oppressive in the best way.

‘You could,’ Isla leans forward, over the arm of the chair. One leg drops down to the floor as her fingers brush Niall’s on top of his tie. ‘Take it off?’

‘Fucking hell,’ he swallows, lets Isla loosen his tie. Her fingers are gentle against his throat, his Adam’s apple, the underside of his chin. With shaking hands he reaches out too, one hand on Isla’s calf, thumb pressing in. ‘Go on,’ he tells her. And she does.

She takes the tie off easy, like it’s something she’s done before, and Niall doesn’t like that, doesn’t want to know, doesn’t want to think about it. She tosses it across the room once it’s off and she’s definitely done this before and something in Niall snaps, gives in, says, fuck it, now or never. He surges forward, lips coming to press against the place where her thigh and her calf meet, tanned and warm and, fuck, Isla.

She gasps and that’s enough for Niall to know. Up on his knees now he ducks underneath Isla’s leg, positions himself between her thighs, and looks up. He’s hardly done anything and her chest is heaving, her lower lip pinned between her teeth. Niall feels his own cheeks flush up as he slides his hands up the insides of her thighs, his lips following their path.

Familiar, confident, Isla tangles her fingers up in Niall’s hair and tugs, just the right amount of pressure to make him gasp. He kisses his way up messily, pushing her dress as he goes, until he’s at the crease of her thighs, a familiar warmth, a strange feeling of home. This is different but it isn’t new. He knows how to make Isla feel good.

Once glance up at her to make sure it’s okay and then he’s there, lips pressed to the satin of her nude underwear, mouthing against the seat. Her first whimper is like a bullet through his chest, a sound so familiar, so distant, that it feels like it’s clawing its way out of him, too. He wants to hear it again, and again, and again, and again.

So he makes sure he will. Gently he bites down, teeth secure around the hem of her underwear, and tugs. With Isla’s help they’re off without a hitch, thrown across the room to join his tie, and he’s back between her thighs, his mouth on her for real, his tongue pressing forward, her hands in his hair. It’s wet and it’s messy and it’s the best thing he’s ever heard, Isla gasping and whimpering above him, telling him what to do. He’s got one hand pressing her left thigh back, holding her open, and another working with his mouth, one finger, then two, then Isla, tugging sharply at his hair, telling him to stop.

‘This okay?’ Niall’s breathless, eyes wild, face soaking wet. Above him, Isla’s eyes are dark, her low bun coming undone.

‘Kiss me,’ she says, voice low, breathy. ‘You haven’t even kissed me yet.’

‘Jesus,’ Niall surges up, hands coming to rest on Isla’s bare hips. He stills, his face a centimeter from hers, their eyes locked in an echo of this morning. Niall remembers the first time he did this, and the last time, too. He thinks he remembers every single time in between. ‘You’re fucking beautiful.’

Isla’s got a hand cupping his face, her rings freezing cold against his burning cheek, and she feels it too, he can tell. The infinite times in between. ‘Stop complimenting me and get on with it,’ she whispers, thumb brushing over his swollen lips. His mouth is still wet and he still tastes like her and when they kiss it’s like they’d never stopped, like it hasn’t been three whole years since that night in his bed.

It’s like they never stopped but it’s different, too—they’ve both been other places, kissed other people, and Niall can tell from the way Isla’s lips move against his that she’s learned new things from those strangers, changed her habits in ways he doesn’t recognize. It makes a jealous, possessive feeling curl in his stomach as he presses his tongue past her lips.

He snaps out of it when Isla gets her wits about her, snaking a hand around the back of his neck and tugging him down closer. Insistent, she cants her hips up, up, up until they press against his and she times it perfectly, brushes her hips against his crotch and bites down on his bottom lip at the same time so his mind short circuits, so he cries out in shock and in pleasure as she giggles below him. That’s his girl, he thinks, gasping as she gets to work on his trousers, sweet and sexy and so, so smart.

‘Bed,’ says Isla, deft hands working on the buttons of Niall's shirt, now, pushing him back toward the massive bed. ‘Want you on the bed.’

‘Whatever you say,’ Niall says, and means it. She could tell him she wants to fuck on top of the Empire State Building, and he’d probably do it. He lets her lead the way, pushing him into his back and crawling over him, straddling his thighs, hands on his hips. The room is a million degrees but he can see her nipples, hard, through the satin of her dress.

With his shirt lying open Isla bows her head, sucking possessive kisses into his neck, his collarbone, the top of his chest. He finds himself desperately hoping she’ll leave marks on his skin, a reminder when he’s halfway across the world that this was real. She makes her way down, an expert at his body, and he trashes underneath her, an expert at coming undone at her hands. They’re perfect together—an unstoppable team.

She stops just before his cock, painfully hard, pressed against her thigh, and he lifts himself up on his elbows for a better look. Eyes blown out, bent over his body, lips bright red, she looks like his again. It’s a miracle, when she bows her head again to trace the outline of his abs with her tongue, that he doesn’t cry.

‘Wanna ride you,’ she says, lips pressed to his skin, eyes locked on his.

‘Yeah, yeah,’ Niall reaches down to cup her face, to gently press his thumb against her lips. Without moving her gaze, she wraps her lips around it, hollows out her cheeks. ‘I want that too, fuck.’

‘I think,’ she says, leaning over Niall for a second to reach the bedside table, grasping at a small purse there. ‘Emilia usually carries a—got it,’ she pulls a condom out of the bag, tugs on the wrapper with her teeth. Niall was right earlier: Emilia really is the best friend he’s ever had.

He hisses as she slides it onto him, easy, familiar. She’s lining up when he stops her, hand tight around her hips.

‘Can I take your dress off?’ He asks, pushing at the fabric. ‘Want to see you.’

Isla nods, bends down for a kiss and lets Niall shimmy the dress up and over her head, lets him unclasp her bra and toss it across the room, lets him get his mouth on her nipples, warm and hot and eager, the perfect distraction as she lines up, sinks down.

‘Good girl,’ he groans against her skin, a gasp he can’t control, a buck of his hips. Isla’s still, getting used to the stretch and he tries to match her, to wait for her to be ready before he carries on.

A roll of her hips, a shot of electricity through his spine. She’s everywhere: hands in his hair, lips on his neck, body pressed against his. He’s too hot and he can’t get enough, wants her closer so he can feel her, further so he can see her. When she sits up straight he almost cries at the sight of it, of her body like this, something he never thought he’d see again.

‘Good for you?’ She asks, a fucking vision above him.

‘So—’ a gasp, a pant. ‘So fucking good for me. Isla, fuck, I lov—oh, oh, God,’ He bites it back, the thing he’s so used to telling her while he’s inside her. They don’t say that anymore, even though it’s still true.

He gets his wits about him enough to press his fingers to her clit, revels in the way her body jerks in response. He knows how to do this, still. Knows what she likes, knows what she needs, knows how to give her just enough of it to drag this out for as long as possible.

Knows that’s how she likes it.

‘I’m,’ Isla whines, dropping back down so her forehead is pressed against Niall’s, so they’re breathing into each other’s mouths. Her necklace presses against her neck as she moans, loud and long, pulling Niall’s hair.

‘You’re what?’ He stills his hand. He knows, but he wants to hear her say it.

‘Please don’t stop.’

‘Tell me,’ he says, because he wants to hear it. Because he might never get to hear it again.

‘Close,’ she whispers. ‘Niall, please.’

‘Anything,’ he mouths at the pearl on her neck, and picks up the pace.

It’s quick after that, Isla’s whole body coming to a standstill as she comes, gasping into Niall’s mouth, eyes falling shut. He’s right behind her, quick and messy to finish himself off, an explosion behind his eyes, inside his heart.

He feels sticky and heavy when they’re done and he’s still inside. They’re messy but he doesn’t want to move, to let go, to figure out what’s next. Isla’s got her face buried in his neck, burning hot, and he kind of wants to die like this, on top of the world. This is better, he thinks, than anything else he’s ever done. Making Isla feel good is more important, he thinks, than anything else he’s ever done.

‘You okay?’ He asks her, trailing a hand through her hair. Her bun came fully undone at some point and he’s not sure where the hair tie is but he likes it like this, all over her shoulders, tangled up in his fingers.

Isla hums sleepily into his neck, shifting her body to get more comfortable. He’s belatedly aware of the fact that his entire extended family is downstairs celebrating his brother’s wedding—of the fact that Mully and Emilia could come back at any moment.

For now, though, he doesn’t want to move. Isla’s breathing is slow and even, the way it is when she’s starting to fall asleep, and he traces patterns over the freckles on her back, knowing how it soothes her. The constellation they form is still familiar and it tugs at something in Niall’s chest, a reminder of the fact that he’s the one who walked away from this, that this, fundamentally, was his decision.

The weight of her body on top of his is so familiar that Niall can almost pretend, if he closes his eyes, that things never changed. That he still belongs to her. With a sudden urgency he finds that he has to look away, that there’s a heavy, sick feeling crawling its way up his throat. I fucked up, he thinks, closing his eyes tight. I fucked up.

Deep breaths, one, two, three, four, and Niall opens his eyes. Gaze trained on the ceiling, he can tell from the patterns of her breathing that Isla is asleep.

‘Love you,’ he whispers, heart in his throat. ‘I love you.’

She still has him.

####

taglist: @stylishmuser @thicksniall @stayclose-holdsteady @niallhoranruinsme @ajayque @flickerswinehouse @1dfangirls35 @crocodileniall @halfpinthoran @awomanindeniall @booksncoffee @edgeofmyniall

join the taglist here

#one direction #1dff #one direction fan fiction #niall horan #niall horan fic #niall horan fan fiction #niall horan imagine #niall #something about you #this is the first time i've EVER written sm*t oof #hope it's okay!#thank you to rand and maria!! for taking a look at this and making sure it's postable

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slothssassin · 4 years

Text

Character information

I was tagged by @obvidalous, thank you lovely, this is a great meme!

Tagging @bellaciaofallout, @liaorban, @starsandskies, @briarfox13, @overboss and @wastelandwandererstuff, no obligation as usual!

I’ll do this for Em, I haven’t talked about her in a while :o I made her picture with this Picrew which I can totally recommend!

Full Name: Emilia Cassandra Goodridge

Name Meaning: Emilia is derived from the same root as the Latin word “aemulus” which means to rival, excel or emulate. Cassandra comes from the Greek mythology.

Age: 26

MBTI: ENFP-T “The Activist” - which fits her so well it’s almost scary

Hogwarts House: Gryffindor

Alignment: Chaotic neutral

Physical Appearance: White but tanned skin, light grey eyes, black curls which she usually wears with an undercut, lots of freckles (especially on her face and her shoulders), muscular, small (1,61m)

Signature Scent: Her natural smell would remind you of popcorn and caramel, or, if she worked on something, gunpowder and oil

Clothing Style: Something practical for the Wasteland - cargo pants, tops, armour. Leather jackets, colourful shirts with funny prints on them. Sometimes jeans. Boots or sneakers. Flannel shirts, jumpsuits, coats. She collects Mothman and Nuka Cola themed clothes.

Defining Gestures: Crossing her arms, running a hand through her curls, raising one eyebrow higher than the other, rolling eyes, finger guns, clenching her fists, shrugging

Speaking Style: If in a good mood, she’s talkative, speaks quickly and mostly uses common language. Lots of curse words. If she’s in a bad mood she’s very taciturn.

Pet Peeves: People who chew with their mouth open. People interrupting her while she talks. People who don’t understand the concept of personal space. Using all your ammo on one big enemy and having to craft tons of it again.

Fondest Memory: She’s happy to have a lot. Celebrating birthdays or Christmas with her family in the Vault. The first breath of fresh air after the doors of Vault 76 had opened. Coming back to visit her family and friends after a long time of being separated. Silly dancing with her cousin Cil. Adding the finishing touches to her own house after travelling through Appalachia for months.

Hobbies and Interests: Drawing in her sketchbook, reading (especially comics), cryptozoology, playing games on her Pip-Boy, collecting things (everything cryptid-related, especially the Mothman), sports (boxing, hiking, swimming), home brewing, making music, tinkering with weapons and armour, trying to repair an old motorcylce, spending time with her friends

Special Skills and Abilities: Skilled mechanic, can repair and improve weapons, armour etc. well. Very strong and a talented boxer. Deadly with Sniper Rifles, good with shotguns and blades, well-trained with weapons in general. Quick to adapt and learn from new situations.

Insecurities: Her own feelings, like actually showing them. Her height. Her skills and talents. She’s actually quite insecure about herself in general, she just hides it under a thick layer made out of sarcasm, spite and dumb jokes.

Quirks and Eccentricities: Very private, doesn’t talk much about herself but is good at helping others with their problems and feelings. Chews gum often. Forgets the easiest stuff but remembers the tiniest details people she likes have told her. Has a knack for knowing what to say to either a) help people or b) critically injure them with words. Curses often. Names her weapons.

Phobias: Wendigos, claustrophobia (especially bad in mines)

What Makes Them Happy? Spending time with loved ones, silly dancing, sunny mornings and warm, starry nights in Appalachia, listening to the sound crickets make, a tasty meal, a cold drink, coming home after exploring the Wasteland for a long time and more

Three Words to Describe Them: Brave, stubborn, selfless

#fallout 76 #fallout #emilia goodridge #vault dweller #fo76 oc #tagged #character information

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ben-j-man · 4 years

Text

The Angaran Chronicles: A Poor Girl- Chapter 3

After defeating a vampire, the intense, ruthless Hunter Jelcine comes across a strange little girl…

Link to chapter 1

https://ben-j-man.tumblr.com/post/184687307128/the-angaran-chronicles-a-poor-girl-chapter-1

Link to Chapter 1 of An Ulterior Motive

https://ben-j-man.tumblr.com/post/184363343578/the-angaran-chronicles-an-ulterior-motive

After the destruction of her village, the only survivor: Emilia is saved by a stranger: an elf named Anargrin. Who claims to work for a mercenary organisation known and respected all over the continent of Angara: The Hunters. He asks for no payment and to help her with the sickness that threatens to overwhelm her.

But why?

Cover art by http://d1sarmon1a.deviantart.com/art/Anargrin-607964404

They stepped out on to the verandah of the clinic, the priest's craggy, tanned face paled. 'Do you recognise her?' said Jelcine. 'No,' said the priest. 'No, I do not.' Jelcine sniffed. If a Jaroaian priest didn't recognise her, that meant she was most likely not a local. Perhaps she and her father had been travelling here and been ambushed by bandits? 'You found her on the road leaving west from the town?' said the priest. 'I did,' said Jelcine, wondering where the priest was going with this. 'We have better go there,' he said. 'Maybe we can find something there?' Jelcine frowned. 'What makes you think I want your help, priest?' He glared at her. 'She might not be one of my people, but I am duty-bound to help this little girl. Jaroai would demand it.' Jelcine clenched her jaw, she knew for a fact that Jaroai would not 'demand it' even if he existed. 'As a priest of Jaroai, I am here for the people. Even if they are not of my flock and especially if they are an innocent child, you must allow me to help you in this, as I aided you to kill the vampire.' 'Alright,' she said. It could be a Jaroai though she doubted it. If it were one, the little girl most likely wouldn't be alive. Jaroai was fiction, but the Jaroai were real. She'd heard many terms over the decades used to describe the. Aliens, monsters but most Hunters loved the term, 'Eldritch Abomination.' Jelcine had never got it. They were the real enemy; they were the ones that established the Jaroaian religion through their avatar, which led humanity in their conquering and enslaving the elves and dwarves. But you never know, the girl could be bait, she could even be a Jaroai. Those things can shape-shift into almost anyone and anything, sort of from what the Hunters understood it was an extremely advanced form of light magic that only they were physically capable of doing, for some reason. Although Jaroai couldn't hide their magical aura, which allowed any Hunter or priest to sense their presence. Jelcine shook away the thought; she was paranoid. She turned and started off. 'Let's get going.' 'This is the place,' said Jelcine and pointed. 'The girl emerged from the underbrush, there.' The priest stroked his beard as he studied their surroundings; the old gravel road, the brilliant trees which hung with shining green leaves enclosed its sides like walls. 'Did you look where she might have come from?' he said. Jelcine frowned. 'No, I am afraid not, I was too busy hurrying the girl to a doctor so she wouldn't die.' The priest frowned back. 'Your sarcasm is not appreciated, Hunter. I was merely asking.' 'Yeah, well. It was a stupid question, priest.' He sighed. 'You are not the first Hunter to have come here since I became the priest for this town. He was a dwarf, and he was overtly hostile toward me as well. Do all of your kind hate us who represent the faithful?' 'Is that a rhetorical question?' He glared at her. 'If so, then why do you? I do not understand.' Jelcine rolled her eyes. 'Right now, that is not important. What is important, we find the girl's father and find out what did this to them.' He studied her for a few weighted seconds before sighing again. 'Yes, you are correct. But I will find out why. One day.' 'Yeah, good, you do that,' said Jelcine. She walked past the priest and to the edge of the path. She knelt and studied the trail of broken branches and blood. 'Can you track her?' said the priest. Jelcine looked over her shoulder at him. 'Yes, I am pretty sure I can,' she sighed. 'One thing,' said the priest ignoring her sardonic tone. 'How did she get out here?' Jelcine shrugged again, unsure where the priest was going with this. 'The nearest road leaving the town is fifteen kilometres south-east of here. How did she get so far?' he said. 'Maybe. Whatever it was that attacked them lured them off the road?' said Jelcine. 'Or forced them there, at gunpoint, or whatnot?' 'Do you see any sign of anyone else having moved through the underbrush? Where is their vehicle?' Jelcine looked again. 'No, just the girl's tracks. They could have been stopped a few kilometres down the road, though.' 'You think you can follow it to the source?' Jelcine didn't dignify that with a response. While she wasn't the best tracker in the Hunters, even a fething neophyte could follow the trail. She stood up and started into the forest. 'Wait. Wait,' said the priest, following her. 'Oh, I'm surprised you're willing to get your fancy robes dirty.' 'I suggest that you watch the track, I'll extend my sense for any presences ahead.' 'Just be careful not to fall on your face,' said Jelcine. 'Because I'm not helping you if you do.'

#fantasy #diesel punk #dark fantasy #short story #fiction #flash fiction #story #vampire #hunter #creative writing #religion #writing #tumblr #writing on tumblr #fantasy fiction #my story #original fiction #original character

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mymostimaginaryfriend · 5 years

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QOTS 4x12 Reaction Post

And the MVP of Season 4 is *opens envelope* MARCEL DUMAS COME ON DOWN!!!!!!!!!!

Somehow someway it’s already the penultimate episode! And as tradition has it, a busy one at that. Planes to catch, people to kill, you know the drill. Let’s hit it:

Me this entire damn episode: Teresa is smarter than that...right? Marcel is smarter than that...right? I know Pote has no clue but they totally see through that right?? GOOD NEWS. THEY DO. Smart characters getting to be smart, MORE AT 11!

I know me rewriting the season every week gets old but If I Were In The Writers Room, there would have been a helluva lot more scenes like tonight’s Marcel and Lucien scene spread throughout the season. I loved getting to see that side of Marcel and his experience SO MUCH.

Easy fix to this season just using the actors we already had? Double Marcel, Oksana and Kelly Anne’s screentime.

As soon as the Judge “you people”-ed the freaking People of Color Chamber of Commerce PRESIDENT I was like Marcel do what you gotta do but I really hope it involves fertilizing some roses. Seriously the Judge is the WOOOOORST /jean ralphio voice.

I love that the Judge has no idea who he’s messing with in Teresa though. He’s so used to his kind of business relationships based on fear and intimidation that he doesn’t know that Teresa inspires something much deeper in her associates. He’s gonna learn.

When despite very sad but understandable advice Marcel put it ALL on the line for Teresa I freaking cheered. Please survive the finale Marcel.

Guess it’s harder to pit people against each other and trick them into doing your bidding when you aren’t drugging them and calling them crazy huh, Judge? (Are we to assume the only thing “wrong” with poor Davis and his mother was that they discovered the evil doings of dear ol’ dad? And all the pills and gaslighting were the Judge’s cover up contingency plan? Seriously. THE. WORST.)

And YES to Davis scrolling back through his phone and calling Javier. Another big cheer from me. Now if only he’d spill the entire explanation about Emilia immediately to cover all our bases that’d be great thanks.

New theory. Like his intro last year, Javier becomes more badass the longer he has his sunglasses on. Like where was this Javier all season?!

Freaking loved the tanning salon heist in general. Every episode with a heist improves like 50% I swear. Especially if it includes a King George and Boaz obstacle course. *cut to Chicho drying glasses at the bar by himself, refreshing his Instagram feed for updates* Sorry Chich, no room in the car for you...literally.

I think the opening scene cutaways at the church did a lot of the heavy lifting last episode failed to do. They really sent home how much Teresa has lost. Would it have killed them to throw a James leaving scene in there with the flashbacks for like two seconds? I mean.... THANK YOU for acknowledging Birdie though, show.

Speaking of lady characters...Teresa talked to two separate women! And on the bright side....she only brutally murdered one of them?

I laughed out loud when Kelly Anne told the judge it was Pote who made the pozole. Although I wish to god it HAD been Kelly Anne because if anyone deserves some food poisoning it’s that asshole.

But I’ll give him this: “Don’t quote me to cover your failure!” was a great line. I feel like Camila would have appreciated that one.

Speaking of...will she grace us with her presence next week? At this point I’m Team Anybody but Eddie but hope springs eternal that this was the last Clown Club meeting of the season and James will pull a better-late-than-never.

UNTIL THEN: Will Javier finally come clean? Will Teresa stay in NOLA? How much coke is Boaz gonna do in South Beach? Stay tuned to find out. See you next week for the finale!

#queen of the south #qots #qots spoilers #qots s4 e12 #my reaction posts #txt post #qots season 4

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wingsonghalo · 4 years

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Left on Read: A Killugon Fanfic- Chapter 2

Here’s chapter 2! It is so very short. Forgive me for that. Next chapter will have Gon and Killua in the same room, though, so look forward to that.

Chapter Wordcount: 2,954 Previous chapters: Chapter 1 Also available on Ao3.

Patreon | Ko-fi

Chapter 2: Out in the Open

As soon as he saw the girl put her hand on Killua’s, a weird feeling swept over Gon. The joy he’d initially felt upon seeing his best friend, the desire to run in and call out to him, seemed to trip and flip-flop into something empty and painful. She was attractive, he noted absently. Black hair, tanned skin, a modest blouse that nonetheless exposed her slender neck. Who was she? What was Killua doing with her?

Killua was listening to her with apparent interest, occasionally smiling or laughing. She, on the other hand, was smiling constantly, leaning forward to engage him more, giggling at most of the things Killua was saying. The feeling in Gon’s gut changed again, this time to a mixture of nausea and worry. When had this person become important? Why did she get to listen to Killua talk and make him smile when he, his best friend, had not seen him in over a year? He couldn’t understand it. Not for the first time, especially recently, the young Hunter found himself at a loss for what action to take.He ran away, something he hadn't done in a long time.

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“—So then my brother said, ‘Now I know why they call it the ICU!’”

Killua snorted into his root beer, hastily putting the glass down before he could spill it as he thumped his chest and coughed out a bit more laughter. Emilia had just been telling him about her brother, who worked at a hospital, and though Killua had always thought of a hospital as a rather depressing setting, it seemed Emilia’s brother had no shortage of amusing tales with which he’d regaled his sister.

“Careful, don’t choke,” Emilia giggled. “Little late for that,” he answered hoarsely, but he was smiling.

It kind of surprised him how well he’d gotten along with Emilia. She seemed bright and optimistic, and her life sounded simple and uncomplicated—mundane, even. It was almost reassuring to the ex-assassin that there did yet exist people in this world whose lives were not driven by killing or revenge, a mission to protect the world, or quests to save someone precious. Some people, like the brown-eyed girl on the other side of the table, just struggled with deciding what to study in school. It was refreshing.

Outside, night had begun to fall. He glanced outside and wondered if Alluka and Nanika were doing all right. His sisters had grown up considerably since leaving home, but they were still quite naive, and their too-trusting nature was often worrisome to Killua.

“Something wrong?” his date inquired softly, and the teenage Hunter whipped his head back around to inside the restaurant, to the pretty girl in front of him, the way the candlelight (for their stuffy waiter had brought a candle when the light outside began to fade) made her skin flicker with rosy red and bright orange.

“No, uh…” he said unconvincingly. He shook his head. “Just…thinking about my own siblings.” He turned his gaze to the candle between them, feeling awkward with just staring at her face.

“Oh, you’ve got siblings too, huh?” Emilia asked with interest.

“Yeah, but they don’t tell me fun work stories like yours does. Work stories from my family would be pretty dismal.”

She smiled playfully, cocking her head slightly. “Funeral home-dismal, math teacher-dismal, or organized crime-dismal?”

Killua might have winced a little. She wasn’t that far off the mark, really, though those in his former profession conducted themselves with more dignity than those bozos in the mafia had, in his opinion. But there was a difference between being good at your job and losing sight of the magnitude of taking a life. He was glad he’d left the Zoldyck family trade before the line had become too blurred for him to see anymore.

“Um…” Emilia’s timid voice broke his reverie. He looked up from inadvertently scowling at the candle flame to see that the smile had melted off her face. She bit her lip. “I-I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “It’s obvious that I said something insensitive just now, so…”

“Oh, uh, no, don’t worry about it,” the silver-haired boy brushed off her apology with what he thought was convincing nonchalance. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms behind his head casually (which probably wasn’t appropriate etiquette for this restaurant, but who cared, really? Not Killua). “Suffice it to say that the family trade wasn’t for me, so I ducked out.”

She nodded, seeming to feel a little more at ease now. “There’s nothing wrong with being good at different things than your family,” she decided.

“Actually, I was great at it,” Killua said with a shrug, and then immediately regretted it, because Emilia looked highly distressed, no doubt believing she’d said something rude again. “It’s okay, really,” he said quickly as she opened her mouth to apologize. “Family’s a complicated subject. Why don’t we talk about something else?” he suggested.

“You’re right, I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to get so personal!” she stammered. He just shrugged in response, so she fidgeted with her nails for a moment before asking, “So…what do you do in your free time?”

“Go for walks. Work out. Sleep. Eat junk food. Maybe some video games now and then,” he answered, rattling them off without much thought. She nodded, leaning forward with interest, and he couldn’t help finding it strange. His pastimes really weren’t very fascinating. I mean, who listed sleeping among their hobbies?

“I like reading,” Emilia volunteered, since Killua didn’t seem like he would ask her in kind. “And listening to music. Oh, and writing!” She laughed a little awkwardly. “Though my work is a little weird, so I don’t often share it…” She ran a hand through her hair and played with the dangly blue earring hanging from her lobe in a kind of nervous habit.

“Cool,” he said. What else was he supposed to say? “I’m sure whatever you write, there are people who will like it. You shouldn’t be afraid to share something if you’re proud of it.” Yes. That sounded good.

“Thanks!” she replied brightly. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and looked up at him through her lashes. “I also like to eat,” she added, her eyes twinkling. The young Hunter blinked. “So, if you want to indulge me and take me to another restaurant sometime…”

He could feel his cheeks flush. “Uh, I guess I could do that,” he said, embarrassed. The way she was fluttering her eyelashes at him did weird things to his stomach. Weird, unpleasant things.

“And, you know…” her voice was softer, making him have to lean a little closer to hear her, “I like going for walks, too, so maybe a walk together is in order as well?”

“Um…” he began, but before he could say any more, he felt something warm brush up against his leg.

His reaction was the exact opposite of what a stealthy, imposing ex-assassin would be expected to do. He yelped, startled, and jumped spectacularly, flailing his arms enough to inadvertently knock over the candle between them. Before she could move it away, the tipped candle had lit Emilia’s sleeve on fire, and she too yelped and began flailing before doing the sensible thing and pouring out the remainder of her glass of water onto it.

The silence that followed was a long one, during which Killua realized that: a) the thing that had touched his leg had been his date’s own leg; b) Emilia had been flirting with him; and c) all the other couples around them were staring at the two kids by the window who had both just squawked and floundered around in a disruptive and indecorous manner. For a split second he felt his cheeks burning with shame, but when he glanced at Emilia, her face crumpled in a grin and she leaned her forehead on her fingertips.

“Pffff,” she sputtered. “That was the most hilariously overblown reaction I’ve ever seen to Footsie.” She chuckled, shoulders shaking with laughter she was attempting to keep quiet.

He wanted to be angry with her for embarrassing him like that, but...it had been him who had done the really embarrassing part. He glanced around at the restaurant, and everyone whose eyes met his hastily turned their gazes from him. How much had they even seen? Did they know why he and Emilia had been thrashing around, or had their attention been drawn by panicked squawking out of the blue and held by Emilia’s attempts to extinguish her blouse?

Before he knew it, his face had broken into a smile and he was covering his laughter with one hand as well. “Y’know, it…it really looks better that way anyway,” he choked, gesturing to the blackened spot on her sleeve.

She stuck her tongue out at him. “You owe me a dinner for this, mister,” she teased.

“Fine, deal,” he conceded.

The rest of the date went without incident, and after they’d made plans to meet up again the day after tomorrow, Killua walked away from her in a relatively good mood. Emilia was energetic, fun to be around, and personable, and her smile bright and warm.

The young Hunter jammed his hands in his pockets and looked up at the stars as he recalled someone else who shared those characteristics, and a familiar pang resonated in his chest. Emilia’s smiles, though pretty, had not made answering smiles arise unbidden on his face. Her laughter, delightful as it was, had not made something dazzling and tender spread within him. Her touch, uninvited but not entirely unwelcome, did not send a shiver of longing through his heart.

She made him feel none of the things he had felt when he had traveled with Gon Freecss.

He wondered sometimes if those sensations were lost forever.

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Leorio answered on the third ring. "Hello?" came the familiar voice.

"Leorio!" Gon wailed at him, half-relieved and half-miserable.

"Whoa, whoa," Leorio said, his voice a little further away. He'd probably held the phone further away from his ear after Gon's loud greeting. "Gon? Are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm okay," he assured him. "Well, actually, I don't really know if I am? Something's happened," he explained, "and I don't know what to think about it."

"Well, what happened?"

"Is that Gon?" a softer, familiar voice said from a distance. "What's wrong?"

Gon felt a surge of warmth hearing both their voices. "Kurapika?" he asked. "Hi, Kurapika!"

Leorio sighed. "Should I put you on speaker so you can talk to both of us?"

Gon was about to say "yes," but then thought about it a moment. "No," he decided. "That's okay. It's...nothing urgent," he admitted. He flopped on his bed, curling his knees up to his chest and leaning back against the headboard.

"It must have been urgent enough, since you're calling me," Leorio pointed out. "Now are you going to tell me what happened, or is Kurapika going to have to trick you into spilling?"

"I do not trick people into telling me things," Kurapika said stiffly.

"Kurapika, I'm sorry, you're pretty much a champion at that," Leorio informed him in an offhand manner. "Now," he continued before the Kurta could protest, "Gon. Explanation."

"Right," Gon said, already feeling a little better hearing his friends bicker just like they used to. "Um, well, I'm in Swaldani City to get my Single Star Hunter certification," he started

."Really?" crowed Leorio, sounding impressed. "That's great!"

"Yeah!" Gon said somewhat hurriedly, not wanting to get off-track. "Um, anyway, I just found out Killua's here in Swaldani too."

"Is he getting his certification as well?"

"Um, I'm not sure." He adjusted the phone against his ear, holding it in place with his shoulder and scuffing the covers with one socked foot. "I didn't talk to him."

A brief silence followed. "Why not?" Leorio finally prompted.

"I was kind of, I mean, well, he didn't exactly...see me?"

"What do you mean?"

"I saw him on a date with some girl!" Gon finally blurted.

An even longer silence greeted this.

"So?" Leorio said at last. There was a sound like a soft thump, and then Leorio was mumbling "Owww, you didn't have to hit me."

"I did not hit you. I swatted your shoulder."

Gon didn't know what to think about that, but before he could comment, Leorio was speaking again. "Um, is there some reason this warranted any kind of reaction? Was she a monster or something?"

"No, nothing like that," Gon admitted. "I just...um..." The longer this conversation went on, the more he began to feel like calling Leorio had been stupid and unnecessary. What right did he even have to be upset? "I don't know," he finally said lamely, his shoulders slumping a little (he hastened to readjust the phone, since this caused it to slip slightly). "I haven't talked to Killua in a while and...I guess it just kind of shocked me."

"Let me talk to him," Kurapika's voice said, and then, louder, he continued, "Gon, you don't even know the situation, from the sound of it. Are you certain that what you saw was even a date?"

"Well, she kept putting her hand on his, so yeah, pretty sure," Gon muttered, sounding a lot more surly about it than he'd intended.

"Oh," Kurapika said with mild surprise. "Uh, in that case...why was this shocking to you?"

"I..." Gon had nothing to say to that. "I don't know. I didn't like it. She doesn't know him. I haven't seen him in more than a year and she gets to go places with Killua and make him laugh. It doesn't seem fair."

"Gon," the Kurta's voice was patient but slightly chiding, a tone he'd heard countless times from Aunt Mito. "You don't really get to decide what is 'fair' in Killua's life. I'm not sure why he fell out of touch with you lately, but..." He paused, and continued in a measured, careful tone that suggested he spoke from experience. "I'm sure he had his reasons for distancing himself."

"That doesn't make me feel better," Gon informed him.

"I am not saying this to make you feel better," Kurapika reminded him. "I am saying this so you might understand Killua's feelings a little better. If it's space he needs, give him space."

"Don't tell him that!" Leorio's voice said. There was a brief scuffling noise, no doubt Leorio attempting to take the phone back again, and then the older man spoke again. "Gon, Killua is your best friend, and you are his. No matter what weird stuff goes on in your own individual lives, the past you shared together will always connect you. If stuff like this is bothering you, don't just let it keep spiraling out of control without your understanding why it's happening. Talk to him. Even if you have to keep trying over and over, even if it takes a long time, even if you don't know if you'll ever get through, keep trying." Leorio paused briefly, and when he continued, he sounded a bit emotional. "Because he's important to you, and... if I know Killua at all, you're important to him, too. You always will be."

Gon didn't say anything for a minute. His friend sounded so passionate and confident, so certain of everything he was saying. He got the feeling that Leorio had been in this position before, and suddenly Gon felt like he had accidentally gotten a glimpse into the relationship between the two on the other end of the line that he'd never seen before.

"Leorio..." said Kurapika, and Gon had trouble discerning whether his tone was of sadness or surprise.

"Find out where he's staying," Leorio said. "Hunt him down with that nose of yours if you have to, if he won't answer his phone or his email. Talk to him. It doesn't matter if you don't know what's bothering you exactly. I'm sure you guys will figure it out and get everything out in the open."

"Be respectful of Killua's choices and decisions, but don't be afraid to tell him how you feel about things either," Kurapika advised.

"Yes," Leorio agreed. "Does that help?"

"Yeah," Gon said. "It really, really does." His heart felt full to bursting with affection for his two friends. "Thanks, you guys. I know how busy you are, and it means a lot to me that you're still willing to pick up the phone for something silly like this."

"I'm always gonna pick up the phone for you, Gon," Leorio assured him. "For any of you three," he corrected, his voice warm, fond.

"Thank you," Gon said again, and couldn't keep the smile off his face. "Take care, both of you."

"We will," Leorio and Kurapika said together, and then the call was ended. Gon's smile changed into something a little sadder, wondering when in the world Leorio and Kurapika had started to be more in synch than Gon and Killua.

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The young woman’s blue kitten-heels clicked smartly on the pavement, her steps determined and impassive. She shivered in the evening chill, and pulled her half-length parka tighter around herself. When she arrived at the street corner, she turned, hiding herself in an alley between two large buildings as she pulled out her cell phone and quickly dialed a number.

The person on the other end answered before the first ring was even up. The young woman spoke first, knowing the other never liked to be the first to talk. “I’ve made contact,” she reported.

“Good work,” replied the other person, in a garbled tone distorted by a voice scrambler. “I knew I could count on you, Miss Alling.”

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Next chapter up on Sunday! Thanks for reading!!

#killugon #hxh #hunter x hunter #killua zoldyck #gon freecss #stuff i write #left on read

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whenrockwasyoung19 · 5 years

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Time to address Ariana Grande’s friggin tan. So back in like 2014 there was a post showing Ariana in the first season of Victorious where she was looking all pale and shit. And they compared that to pictures of Ariana now with her tan. Essentially people equate Ariana tanning with cultural appropriation but I would argue there’s more to it than that.

So let’s address a few things. Ariana is white. She is not a person of color according to today’s standards. At one point in time she would’ve been considered ethnically ambiguous as all Southern and Eastern Europeans were. So the fact that she sort of is ethnically ambiguous has this loaded history behind it.

Also, Italian Americans can be ethnically ambiguous just innately. For instance, the surname Grande kinda sounds like it could be Italian or Spanish. The distinction isn’t really clear. The languages are similar (very very similar). I swear every time I see that Emilia Clark Dolce and Gabana ad I think she’s speaking Spanish. There are these subtle crossovers that can make it hard to distinguish who belongs to what camp. There is also the issue of skin tone. Italian features vary a lot. Some can be blonde and blue eyed. Others are olive skinned with brown hair and brown eyes. Some are mixture with fairer skin and brown hair and eyes.

It seems that naturally Ariana falls into that category. I wouldn’t say she’s pale. Like if you’ve seen videos on her old YouTube channel you’ll notice she’s got a slight tan. She also naturally has dark brown hair. She’s sort of the average Italian who doesn’t really look like the standard Sicilian but still looks very Italian. So she already has a very Italian look and whatever ethnically ambiguous qualities that come with that are innate. The tan came later, but we’ll get to that.

So for Italians who look more olive skinned, it can be easy to be perceived as Latine. I can personally vouch for this as after returning from summer vacation (and after spending my days outside, I naturally got very very tan) I would occasionally be told I looked Latina. Some would even assume it. And notably, I didn’t try to look this way. The summer sun just does that to my skin. So it’s not an effort on my part to look more Hispanic. And for those who naturally have darker, olive skinned may look ethnically ambiguous.

From this point on, I can really only refer to Italian Americans as I’m not from Italy. I don’t know much about their beauty standards.

Do y’all remember Jersey Shore? The original run in like 09? I do. I was in high school at the time (because I’m ancient). And I also grew up in New Jersey. So, I was around a lot of girls trying to be like Snooki. Girls wore the bump. They wore bright prints. And they tanned. Oh they tanned. I knew a lot of girls who made frequent trips to the tanning beds. And whenever school dances came up, spray tans were suddenly everywhere. There was an obsession with tanning. And Ariana is basically just like those girls I went to school with: obsessed with tanning.

This is a common beauty standard for Italian Americans. I don’t know the precise history behind these beauty standards. But I’ll make an educated guess. Sicilians are like the ideal Italians (in terms of beauty). They seem to capture all the Italian features. Their skin is darker, they have beautiful brown hair, amber eyes; and if you go off of American television, they’ve got curves. I personally take great pride in my Sicilian heritage (even tho I’m only part Sicilian and only kinda look it).

Sicilian beauty standards are also idealized on television. The women Tony Soprano often slept with were often Sicilian. On Everybody loves Raymond, Robert abandoned his plain Jane blonde girlfriend for a voluptuous Sicilian woman he met on holiday. In The Godfather, when Al Pacino is in Italy he practically forgets all about poor Diane Keaton and marries a beautiful Italian woman. In this case, unlike the other examples, Apollonia doesn’t speak much English. Their attraction is merely physical. In all of these cases, the somewhat plain blonde is seen as kinda of conventional but boring. The Sicilian is the attractive one drawing the man away from his woman. In other words, Sicilians are portrayed as this ideal beauty. Sicilian beauty types are similar to Latina beauty types as well which is where I think a lot of the confusion lies. Latina women have darker skin (sometimes very similar in tone) and dark hair. So when all the Italian American girls in my school were trying to look like more Sicilian, it can be perceived as looking more Latina. In my community, no one would mix that up. We know that pale skin is far from ideal. If you can look like you just got off a plane from the Bahamas, you’re looking good. And obviously have slightly tanner skin is popular in general. Self-tanner and bronzer are incorporated into a lot of beauty gurus makeup routine. The fact that someone wants to look a little tanner is not really shocking. But like I said, I can see where the mixup is. Ariana is basically just emulating a Sicilian beauty standard as many Italian Americans do. It can be misconstrued that Ariana is reflecting a Latina look but that’s not the case. But then we get into some phrasing issues. So I hear people say things like Ariana darkens her skin. Ok. Technically yeah. But that’s what tanning is. That’s what applying bronzer is. In reality, such acts are neutral. But the phrasing is definitely off. It does sound like Ariana regularly applies like brown polish to her skin. That’s not what she or other girls who tan do. If you use a tanning bed, it’s your skin naturally reacting to UV light. It’s no different than when I spend a summer riding my bike in shorts, and by August my thighs are very tanned. For girls who spray tan, you can throw a little shade at because it’s not their natural skin. But it’s also aspiring to a Caucasian beauty standard. So is it a cultural appropriation if it’s white people appropriating other white people stuff? Eh I don’t know. My point is the act of tanning really isn’t like problematic in and of itself. And framing it to be problematic by using carefully chosen language is perfidious and wrong. It creates a culture of shame around Ariana which isn’t fair to her or her fans. In era where cultural appropriation is a mortal sin, it’s unfair to accuse someone of that without really understanding the complexities of this situation. Being Italian American has complexity especially in terms of beauty and there is a deeper history there. If you think her music or singing is cultural appropriation, I’m not going to argue that point. But please stop saying that Ariana is tan, therefore she’s appropriating latine culture, therefore she’s cancelled.

#ariana grande #cultural appropriation #italian #Italian American #tanning #FYI I never entered a tanning bed

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my-emotional-self · 6 years

Text

Let Me Protect You Part 2 Chapter 16 (Chris Evans x OFC Emilia)

Pairings: Chris Evans x OFC Emilia

Warnings: Swearing, Angst

Trigger Warnings: Mentions of Suicide and Self Harm

Word Count: 1.8k+

Timberline Knolls was located just outside the city limits of Chicago and was where you would spend the next month. The entire flight out you couldn’t stop crying no matter how hard you tried. You felt betrayed, deceived and you didn’t think you could ever look Chris in the face again.

They had a staff from Timberline Knolls meet you at LAX in case you tried to run. Lets face it, you would have in a heartbeat if you didn’t have a babysitter with you the entire time. You gave up, point blank and that was it.

The flight from Los Angeles to Chicago was long and daunting. When the plane finally touched down you were happy to be out of your seat as your legs and back became stiff from sitting so long. You would never understand how people flew everywhere all the time; it seemed like such a hassle.

Jack, your ‘babysitter’, helped you with your bags and escorted you out of the airport where a car was waiting for you both. More tears streamed down your cheek as you hastily wiped them away with the back of your shirt. You wanted to be positive about this experience; your boyfriend paying for you to go to one of the best treatment facilities? How could you not be positive about it? Oh, that’s right, because you felt he betrayed you, doing this behind your back and not even talking to you about it.

In a way, you regretted what happened the last time you saw him. All the screaming and crying, telling him you hated him and saying that the two of you were over. Did you really mean it? At the time, yes. But now, you were unsure. He meant well, but it still broke your heart.

It took a while to get out of the city, but other than that, you had arrived at Timberline Knolls rather quickly. You had to admit, it was a beautiful place. There was a long private driveway that stretched for miles through a forest before opening up to many smaller buildings. It looked rather cozy.

“Alright Emilia, we’ll do your intake assessment and then we will get you settled into your room for the night” Jack stated as he opened the door for you and led you to the main bigger building. Looking around, all the buildings were made of stone and brick and it made for a beautiful setting with the woodsy backdrop.

The intake assessment was the same as usual; question after question after question to get a better understanding of you. With it being your second suicide attempt, having Borderline Personality Disorder and also self-harming, you fit the bill rather perfectly to be admitted to this rehab center. But you quickly learned that this rehab center was a bit different. They took a more holistic approach to recover and that definitely piqued your interest as you didn’t want to be stuffed with medication left and right.

You thought you would fully shut down while you were here, not talking to anyone and just taking this as a free ride until your time was up. But after hearing everything involved, you were actually becoming more aware that this place might just be a good start. Not only did they take a more holistic approach to your road to recovery but they really help you to understand that you are not alone.

“At Timberline Knolls, we coach and reinforce each of our patients on interpersonal skills, emotional regulation skills and distress tolerance and management” Sara, the intake specialist declared.

You let out a sigh of relief as she spoke; nodding intently as you realized that this just might work for you. “This…this actually sounds like something that would help me” you replied with a slight chuckle. You sucked at interpersonal skills, distress tolerance AND emotion regulation.

Sara smiled at you with her big doe eyed brown eyes. “Well, that is what we strive for. So” she began to say as she looked down at your paperwork, “it looks like you will be with us for 30 days. Unless your doctors say you need more time.”

You cocked your head to the side, your brows furrowed. “I thought it was flat 30 days that I would be here?” you questioned.

“It looks like your boyfriend paid for up to 90 days, if needed.”

Your eyes became wide at her statement as your heart jumped in your chest. 90 days??? You couldn’t stay here for 90 days!! That was far too long! Anger bubbled within you and you spoke the only thing that came to mind, “He’s my ex-boyfriend.”

After your intake session was done, Sara took you to the dorm rooms where everyone was staying. She unlocked a door before opening it and motioned for you to step inside. You were blown away by how beautiful the room was. There was a queen sized bed, along with a dresser, two nightstands, your own small bathroom and an entire wall of windows. The color was a soft tan and the carpet was plush.

“It was requested that you have your own room. Now, this isn’t a prison or anything. But everyone needs to be back in their rooms by 10pm and wake up is at 7:00am.”

You gave her a slight smile as she closed the door. Noticing your bag was already on the bed waiting for you, you let out a sigh as you started to unpack. The room was warm and cozy as you felt a sense of loneliness.

As you finished packing, you laid down on the bed exhausted from the day’s events. It was definitely not how you planned on things going but nothing ever really went your way. Laying on your back staring up at the ceiling, you thought about what you would say to Chris when you ever got the chance to talk to him. You wanted to ask his forgiveness, in the way you treated him. You wanted to tell him how sorry you were for screaming at him. You wanted to tell him how much you appreciated him for getting you to rehab and the seeking out the help you truly needed.

In that moment, the phone rang startling you from your daydreaming. Sitting up, you stared at the phone as it continued to ring. It was 10:45 at night and it baffled you as to who could be calling. With hesitation, you lifted the phone off the cradle. “Hello?” you asked sheepishly.

“Ems” you heard your brother exhale from the other end.

Tears immediately welled in your eyes as you heard his voice. Your brother, your favorite person in the world who gave the best hugs, who made you feel safe. “Eric” you sobbed out, your body shaking the bed.

“How are you? Did you make it there safe? How is everything going?” Eric rambled out.

“I’m….I’m here. Safe and…and sound” you hiccupped out between your cries. “I-I just want to come ho-home though.” It was true. Even though this place seemed great and could really help you out, hearing your brothers’ voice just made you homesick instantly.

“I know Ems” Eric sighed out. “But that place is amazing. Chris and I researched all night that first night you were locked up. And you just….you just need to give it a try. I think it will really turn out to be great for you.”

You couldn’t even speak; holding your breath as you held back your sobs and became as quiet as possible. You didn’t want Eric to know how lonely you felt. He was always there for you and you didn’t want to make it painful for him.

“Ems?” he questioned when you didn’t speak.

“I’m he-here” you hiccupped quietly as you wiped your tears away.

“I love you Ems. Get your rest and I’ll call you tomorrow okay?”

“Okay” you whispered before the line went dead. You put the phone back on the holder as you crawled under the covers. You would give anything to be with Eric right now. He would make everything better again. You made a mental note to ask tomorrow if there was a time when family or friends could visit.

As you stared at the wall as you felt broken hearted and empty; not knowing how you would survive these next 30 days alone. Your phone rang again as you jolted upright.

“Hello?” you answered hesitantly, not knowing who it could be.

“Emilia” Chris’ voice sounded on the other end.

In one moment his voice sent both shivers down your spine, and anger boiling in your bones. You missed him dearly as you wanted to feel his lips all over your body and to have his strong arms surround you. Yet at the same time, you wanted to slap him in the face for doing this to you.

“Don’t hang up baby….please” his tone was urgent and pleading. At that point you wanted nothing more than to hang up on him, but you gave him the benefit of the doubt. “I miss you so much Ems.”

“Well maybe you shouldn’t have stabbed me in the back and put me in this place!” your voice rose with each word as your heart started to beat faster in your chest.

Chris let out a frustrated sigh on his end and you knew he felt guilty. “I’m sorry Emilia. Really, I am. I just…I just want you to get better. I didn’t know what else to do.”

You scoffed at his words. “You could have TALKED to me about this beforehand. Maybe if you set me down, talked to me about this idea maybe I would have agreed.”

“That’s the thing Ems. Keyword being maybe. What if you wouldn’t have agreed huh? What if your stubborn ass would have started a fight over this idea?”

Well, he had you there. You being the stubborn person you were would probably have put up a fight over this idea. But the way he said it made your insides boil. “You had NO right Chris! NONE! How could you do this to me? Now I’m stuck here for at least a month, maybe more!”

“I CAN’T LOSE YOU EMILIA!” he roared into the phone in frustration.

“Then maybe you should have just broken up with me then Chris. I told you what you were getting into, but you obviously didn’t think it was as bad as it was.”

“I love you Emilia” he whispered out. His tone was so soft and delicate that it made you shiver. “I love you so much it hurts. I don’t want to lose you. I want you in my life forever. When I opened the door to the bathroom and saw you there practically lifeless, my heart stopped. I don’t ever want to see that again.”

His words made your heart ache but you still couldn’t forgive him for this; not yet at least. Taking in a deep breath, you exhaled for encouragement as you let your mind free. “I’m sorry. Goodbye Chris.”

Tag List: @iamwarrenspeace @ssweet-empowerment @princess-evans-addict @patzammit @tacohead13 @white-chocolate-mocha-fan @littlemissacorn @miss-cap21 @missfirstavenger @captainamerica-ce @pumbibaby @remember-that-one-blog @wildestdreamsrps @kanupps06 @zohoffman @-fuck-you-world- @geeksareunique @libbitinasdeath @createdbytinyaddiction @kenzieam @stacieisaloser

#Chris Evans Fanfic #Chris Evans Fanfiction #Let Me Protect You #Chris Evans x OFC #Chris Evans Imagine #Chris Evans Request #Chris Evans x Reader

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huffleypuffy · 7 years

Text

Cocoa and Draco

If u can could u please write one with Draco where u are having a boy talk with the girls and then the girls mention Draco as you two are dating n you say something and Draco overhears it and get very mad at you. Fluff. Thankyou

Draco Malfoy x reader (any house) imagine

Word Count: 1189

Warnings: none

You warmed yourself up by the fire after a chilly walk outside. You rubbed your hands together trying to get warm, but questioning if this method actually worked? You and Draco had just took a walk together around the outside grounds. His warm hands kept your tiny, cold ones toasty. You pictured his black trapper hat covering his white hair. His pale cheeks had turned pink and his breath was visible as he talked. Little snowflakes were twinkling down from the sky and falling into your hair. You secretly loved the way it made your hair look. He kissed you on that walk. It made your face warm up and you smiled to yourself just thinking about it. He made you promise not to tell anyone that he was falling for you.

The fire crackled bringing you back to reality. You pulled your cozy blanket around you.

"I've just gotten us some hot chocolate from the kitchen!" Emilia slowly walked in carrying four mugs, two in each hand.

Emilia was one of your best friends and roommates. She had a bob cut and brown hair that was perfectly straightened every time you saw her. Her hazel eyes fit perfectly with her pale skin.

You jumped up to help her and took two out of her hands.

"Where are the others?" She asked.

You shrugged your shoulders not sure of their whereabouts because you had not seen them since you returned from your stroll.

"Library. Heard them giggling about love potions. Said they were trying to find a book about them." Tommy said looking up from his book.

Tommy pushed back his black hair and smiled. His teeth were so white and straight. He pushed up his sleeves revealing more of his tan skin.

"Thanks, Tommy." Emilia batted her eyes smiling greatly.

You stifled your giggle and said, "Let's try and find them?"

Emilia nodded and followed you out of the common room, through the corridors, and into the library. You sipped your hot chocolate as you two searched for your two other best friends and roommates. Other students were still in the library either to chat or search for books to finish up last minute homework. You heard familiar giggles around the corner.

You turned to see Evelyn and Millie whispering as they stared at the book Mille was holding. Millie's long, curly red hair was falling down her shoulders into the book.

"Why don't you just put it back?" Evelyn giggled pushing her hair to the side.

Evelyn had her dark hair pulled back into a braid.

"Guys!" Emilia jumped towards them.

She handed them their hot chocolate, forcing Millie to put the book down onto the table next to her.

"What are you doing?" You asked taking another sip of cocoa.

"Just looking up love potions. How did you find us?" Millie said brushing her hair out of her face.

"Tommy told us." Emilia smiled.

"Bet you'd like to slip him a love potion..." Evelyn snorted making the rest of you laugh.

"Oh shut it! There's people around." Emilia turned red reminding you of your walk with Draco.

He was so captivating. You were thinking of how kind he was to you and how he cared for you so much. He talked about wanting to take you on a real date someday.

"Alright, pick one person you'd like to like to give a love potion to." Emilia dared.

"Ollie Days!" Millie practically yelled.

Ollie Days was a tall, lanky boy with the whitest hair but the darkest eyes. Millie had always fancied him and they could always be found talking about really anything.

You all laughed at her eagerness to answer.

"That was a bit fast." Evelyn laughed. "I'd have to say Jamie Krow. Real cutie, that one."

Jamie Krow was a tiny girl in your year whom was incredibly smart. She had thick, straight dark brown hair that was just the perfect length. She always wore boxy glasses that slowly slid down her nose.

"What about you?" Emilia asked you.

"Oh, um." You stuttered.

Your immediate thought was Draco, of course, but you couldn't say anything about him to anyone.

"I saw you with Draco Malfoy earlier, what about him?" Millie smiled.

Your face went red, "No! Shush!"

"Draco Malfoy? Are you two?" Evelyn almost spit out her cocoa.

"I bet they are. Saw them holding hands." Millie grinned.

You sighed, there was no point in lying considering that Millie had seen you together.

"You cannot tell anyone! You have to promise!" You tried to quiet them down.

"How long?" Emilia tried to whisper.

"About four months. No one is supposed to know! You can't tell anyone! Ever." You said.

"Oh my gosh. I can't believe it." Evelyn giggled.

"I don't think she has to worry about slipping him a love potion though, the way he looks at her." Millie said.

Your cheeks turned red again. He really did look at you lovingly, didn't he?

"What's he like?" Emilia asked.

"He's lovely, so handsome. He's so sweet to me. He said he's falling far me. But you can't tell anyone! Draco doesn't want anyone to know." You said.

"What do I not want anyone to know?" You heard his familiar voice ask.

You turned to see him standing behind you looking agitated.

"Draco, they saw us. I can't lie to my best friends." You tried to not upset him anymore.

"Can I talk to you, just us." It was more of demand rather than a question.

You set your mug on a bookshelf and followed Draco a few rows down before going into one. He ran his hands through his hair as he turned to face you at end of the bookshelves. He looked up at you and shrugged his shoulders.

"How did this even come up?" He asked.

"They were talking about who they'd like to slip a love potion to and then they asked me but I said I didn't know. Millie said she saw us holding hands earlier during our walk. There's no way I could have denied that, no lie would cover that up." You said walking towards him.

He sighed.

"They can't know, no one can." He said.

"Draco, I understand that but they saw us. We can't change that. No one is going to care that we're together." You replied.

"I don't want anyone using this as leverage to hate you. Who knows what they all think of me. I don't need you going through that." He said getting a little angrier.

"Draco, I don't care what happens. I like you a lot and I want to be with you no matter who knows or whatever anyone thinks." You said.

He didn't say anything back. You could tell he was thinking about what to do.

"Thick and thin, I'll stand by you." You reassured him.

He looked at you, unsure of what to say.

"Oh come on, you know I'm crazy about you." You giggled.

He smiled and kissed your forehead. It felt so comforting.

"Alright, alright." He pulled you in to hug you. "I guess I can live with a few people knowing."

#Draco Malfoy #Draco #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy imagines #malfoy #draco imagine #draco imagines #huffleypuffy #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x slytherin #draco malfoy x hufflepuff #draco malfoy x ravenclaw #draco malfoy x gryffindor #draco x reader

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yeaahishowedupatyourparty · 3 years

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Chapter Three: Adrienne Kioni

“It’s show-time!” Raymond’s animated voice interrupted the chatter of the Pearl Suite, giving the girls their cue to start moving towards the West Exit of the palace. Adrienne knew the routine well enough to execute it in her sleep. She wasn’t in a rush. “And can I just say you all look dazzling, utterly bewitching! The Independence Day photographs are going to look stunning.” Unplugging her phone charger, Adrienne slipped the device into the bag of Heather, her lady-in-waiting. Raymond always spoke like he’d swallowed a thesaurus and it bothered her. There wasn’t much about the royal clergyman that didn’t. He was one of those people who lived vicariously through others to make himself feel more important. If he acknowledged your presence, you could sleep peacefully knowing that he felt he could get something from you; usually fame and status. Was it any wonder he was forever fawning over the daughters of the settlements? “Quick, quick, I need a personal snap just for me!” Raymond grinned. His shocking white teeth stood at defiant odds with his spray-tanned skin. The girls all huddled together by the bay window where Talia Mãhoe was already sat flicking through an outdated magazine. Adrienne took her place between Dominique and Carmella, locking her arms around their torsos. Amidst the ruffling of chiffon and tulle, and the rattling of champagne glasses being placed on table tops, she scanned the state of the room. It was so normal. An endless piles of dismantled make-up bags and abandoned hairbrushes mounted in front of the full-length mirrors. A pair of golden straighteners sat plugged in at the wall while rings of rejected gowns patterned the floor. Adrienne had read ludicrous articles in the past about how the girls of the settlement islands spent thousands on their own styling teams. The truth was that most of the time they styled themselves and on special occasions, they’d share the palace team between them. After all, none of them were real royalty... Adrienne felt her cheeks tremor as she held her smile. The flash on Raymond’s phone threw a blinding sheet of light over the room for a split second, causing temporary rainbow dots to dance in her vision. “This thing is pinching my hips.” Dominique tugged at her honey-hued trumpet dress with crystal beading woven into its bodice and hem. The shade contrasted beautifully with her dark brown skin, especially since she’d woven the golden theme into her whole look; on her stilettos and with the ribbon that’d been plaited into her box braids. She looked like a goddess. They all did, but at the price of guaranteed discomfort. “I’d love to be able to say the same,” Selena laughed as she joined them from across the room. Lifting the hem of her dress, she met them at the door of the Pearl Suite and linked her arm through Adrienne’s. Her satin blue, long sleeved evening gown sparkled under the lighting and seemed to go on forever and ever. The theme of the parade this year was ‘the vibrancy of a nation.’ It was a line that event organisers had plucked from King Gabriel’s Coronation speech three years ago. Hence, each of the princesses' parade gowns were designed with a colour of the rainbow in mind. Mai and Emilia were given purple, Selena and Gabrielle both fashioned blue gowns, Blythe and Katherine were in green, Dominique and Yasmine had yellow-slash-gold because, honestly, gold was more appealing, Talia and Yasmine were both in orange, and that left Rina and Adrienne in red. The two strongest personalities in the group; Adrienne couldn’t help but feel it wasn’t coincidental. As they moved along familiar corridors lined with faces from history, Adrienne widened her strides. She bypassed the idle chatter of Dominique and Selena, and the anxious fiddling of Mai Hamasaki, and fell into step with Raymond at the head of the group. He acknowledged her with a sideways glance and polite smile. Something told her he was already anticipating, and dreading, what she was going to say. “I made some of the alterations you suggested to my speech,” she smiled. A lie, but Raymond’s aura warmed instantly. “It pleases me to hear that, Your Highness.” He ran a flat palm down his patterned tie. “All twelve of you have done such a gratifying job with your speeches in the past. I’m sure tonight will be no different.” Adrienne forced herself to smile, clearing her throat as they cut through the Public Picture Gallery. “And the Native Council?” She lifted her chin and looked directly at Raymond, who insisted on keeping his eyes fixed ahead. “Their representatives will be making a speech too this year?” If it weren’t for the tapping of heels behind them, the silence would have been deadly. Raymond inhaled as if his lungs were made of iron. “Not quite...” Adrienne’s posture stiffened, “I’m not sure I understand. I put in a personal request on their behalf, way in advance, like you advised?” “I tried, Your Highness, I really tried.” Liar. “The schedule was just too tight.” “Too tight to hear from the descendants of our kingdom’s indigenous people?” “Adrienne.” Raymond spoke in a way that was calm on the surface, but condescendence lurked in the depths of his voice. “I know the interests of the natives have always been close to your heart, but-” “They should be close to all of our hearts! They’re our people too.” Adrienne felt the eyes of Emilia Olsson from the Swedish Settlement burning into the back of her neck. She didn’t care. The girls were probably used to this by now. And, if they were half the women they pretended to be in public, they would’ve been standing by her. The sun had set hours ago, leaving the October chill to haunt the night. Adrienne let a shiver ripple through her nerves as the group followed a row of lanterns that led from the west side of the palace around to the front courtyard. “I want to give my speech time to the Native Council then,” she said decisively. Raymond was pretending not to hear her as he waved at Alejandro, the palace’s head chauffeur. He was stood at the tail end of a row of white jaguar limousines. Their pristine paint jobs glistened under the amber glow of the palace’s lanterns. The rest of the founding family members were stood beside them. “Adrienne.” Her father’s voice beckoned from...somewhere, but Adrienne was too preoccupied. A crease appeared between her brows. “What’s the point in having an Independence Day if we’re not going to give a voice to the people who fought for it? To the people whose ancestors wanted it the most?” She was hot on Raymond’s coat-tails by now. He stopped and turned calmly on a polished heel; it was only then she realised her fists had been clenched. “Again, Adrienne.” Everybody was watching; the other girls and their families, her parents, her brother, even Troy. ...Let them watch, Adrienne thought. All she could feel was her own chest rising and falling a beat behind the rhythm of her heart. “I’d love nothing more than for the Native Council to speak tonight,” Raymond said, “but there simply isn’t enough time, and that came from King Gabriel himself.” “King Gabriel has no idea what he’s talking about! He’s so out of touch with this kingdom!” Her words echoed through the night and slapped themselves against the palace walls in blood-red paint, staining the flower beds and tainting the lazy water of the marble fountains. She’d meant what she said, but the hand of her conscience was desperate to scrub it all away. An invisible news helicopter hummed somewhere overhead before fading out again. “Enough.” Her father made himself known beside her. Adrienne wasn’t sure how long he’d been standing there, or whether anybody else had said anything in the meantime. Her vision was blurred by all of the thoughts she wouldn’t be able to verbalise. Not tonight. Her father, Michael Kioni, was the speaker of the house in the Amethyst parliament and a man who’d never asked for anything twice in his life. With wise eyes and a quiet confidence, he gave Raymond an apologetic handshake and left Adrienne to retreat and stand a step or two behind him. “Happy Independence Day, Raymond,” he said. Unsurprisingly, Raymond gushed and any sign of stress that he was showing beforehand had disappeared under Michael’s attention. “Sorry about any inconvenience brought on by my daughter. Let’s continue with the proceedings, it’s a fine night.” Michael didn’t even satisfy Adrienne with a disapproving gaze. He’d figured her out long ago. As he let Raymond show him to his assigned car, he acted as if she didn’t even exist. Her voice a mere breeze lost in the vibrant hypocrisy of the Independence Parade. Adrienne pursed her lips and adjusted the strap of her dress, scratching at where the jewels and sequins had been rubbing at her skin. Did anybody else see the problem here? The gates of the palace opened at the command of a nameless silhouette sat in the watchtower. The jaguars of the founding families began to leave one by one, descending down the Royal Walk and towards the city centre alive with vibrant spirits. “Listen...” A pulse of heat wrapped itself around Adrienne as she sensed a familiar body approach hers from behind; a body soft enough to ease the angry heat pricking the surface of her skin, a body strong enough to keep her chin from drooping towards the ground. “Can you hear their cheers?” Troy asked. She tilted her head into the loving smile hovering against her ear. “You’re their princess...and they’re your people, all of them.” Adrienne squeezed Troy’s hand once, he squeezed hers back twice. Their horse and carriage had been following another that was proudly waving the Swedish flag as well as the Trinidadian, Martinican and Bajan ones to signify that Princess Emilia Olsson and Princess Dominique Williams were on board. But now they’d disappeared through the iron gates and into the flamboyant eye of the Independence Day carnival, and Adrienne’s carriage was next. “I hate my Dad,” she muttered, glancing up at the man in the second watchtower who was clearly waiting for some kind of signal from the other side. “No, you don’t," Troy said. “You just don’t always see eye-to-eye. It’s normal.” “Why wouldn’t he use his power to defend the natives? The founding father of our own settlement was the one to sign the peace treaty!” Troy shrugged and played with the Kenyan flag that flapped in the breeze, followed by the British and then the Indian one. The Cuban, Jamaican and Dominican flags lined the opposite side of the carriage and Adrienne found herself wondering what it was like to represent a settlement ‘founded’ by more than one nation. Selena had the people of Cuban, Jamaican and Dominican descendants to think about despite only being Cuban-Jamaican herself. Blythe was in the same situation with the four British countries. How did they do it? If they followed the example of how King Gabriel treated Amethyst’s natives, then perhaps they didn’t. “Goodness, it sounds amazing!” Selena beamed from the opposite side of the carriage. She was sat to Lorenzo’s right, while Blythe Radcliffe sat to his left. She twisted in her seat to look over her shoulder at the closed gates. Adrienne noticed how Lorenzo’s hand clutched at her waist, even when she twisted and turned in her seat, like a father trying to tame his restless child. She and Troy exchanged a misinterpreted smirk. He had always found it funny how someone as free-spirited as Selena ended up with his unbending perfectionist of a best friend. Adrienne found it funny that nobody had realised how she’d been preoccupied with their carriage’s coachman since they boarded. “Come on, let us go now!” she yelled up to the man in the watchtower, kneeling in her seat and waving her arms. Adrienne’s heart jumped into her throat; had the gates opened there and then, she would’ve been punished for dropping the illusion of permanent elegance. “Work’s going to be a tough one tomorrow,” Lorenzo said mainly to Troy, flashing a smile in his direction after checking his watch. Troy gave a knowing chuckle, “For you, maybe. It’s all action on the front bench, right?” Lorenzo’s voice was dripping in sarcasm, “You have no idea. A meeting on housing and planning? Count me in.” Adrienne bit her tongue. She wanted to be baffled by the fact that Lorenzo Contraini, a trust-funded, entitled son of the Italian Settlement’s founding family, was able to secure such a prominent position in the current parliament. But she wasn’t. He was educated, unapologetic and articulate, wealthy and in a long-term relationship with a founding daughter. It all worked in his favour. “I’ll look forward to hearing what you plan to do about the poverty in the North Mainland.” Adrienne really did mean to stay quiet, but she couldn’t. “After all, over three fifths of the population live there, yet there’s more wealth in this carriage than there is in the entire region.” She herself was educated, unapologetic and articulate, wealthy and an actual founding daughter. Somehow, it never really worked in her favour. Lorenzo raised an eyebrow at Troy and Adrienne looked away. It infuriated her that he didn’t feel the need to grace her with a response, but she couldn’t afford another stand-off. “She has a point,” Troy shrugged. Adrienne didn’t want to, but she smiled. She lived her life having constant bursts of appreciation for the fact that somebody somewhere had decided to write Troy Wilson into her fate. “Here we go...” Blythe’s voice was bored and didn’t match the brightness of her smile as the gates slowly parted. Behind them awaited a circus of delirium and wonder, a riot of colour and a contagious energy. “Ladies and Gentlemen, the daughters of the Greater Antilles, Kenyan, Indian and British Settlements.” The screams of the endless crowd all morphed into one huge storm of excitement. Every beaming face was illuminated in kaleidoscopic colour as the huge net of rainbow lights flashed above their heads. “You can barely tell de Beaumont Gardens from Alvarez Plaza,” Rina said. Her voice was barely audible against the powerful song of the brass marching band. She was right, though. As their carriage leisurely turned around the Capital Roundabout, not one of the streets that spoked off of it was empty. Crowds swarmed them for as far as the eye could see; street performers breathing fire and parading around on stilts entertained those too far to see the main action. “Look.” Troy nudged Adrienne’s shoulder, waving in the direction of a small girl who was wearing a familiar gown. She had her afro pulled into a low bun and was jumping up and down in a replica of the glittering gown Adrienne had worn on last year’s official palace Christmas card. Clutching the Amethyst flag in her fist, she waved in manically and jumped up and down. “Princess Adrienne! Princess Adrienne! Look, Mum, it’s Princess Adrienne!” Adrienne swallowed the lump in her throat and mustered the composure to give her a warm smile as they passed. She wasn’t a stranger to people crying, screaming or even fainting in her presence. But there was something about children, too young to even understand what she does, putting all of their energy into loving her that struck a hidden nerve. Their carriage did one whole lap of the grand roundabout before halting outside the Amethyst Theatre which sat at its centre. The building’s sandstone walls appeared golden as floor lights shone and emphasised the intricate pillars that climbed all the way up to its domed roof, casting shadows on the building’s details. Bronze accents twirled themselves around the panels of the arched windows as well as the handrails that lined the grand staircase. On either side, two huge fountains spurted water up towards the night sky in a rhythmic Independence Day dance. Adrienne watched as their carriage man climbed down from his seat and made his way towards them, holding out a gloved hand to assist the girls to the ground. Naturally, they left the carriage ahead of Lorenzo and Troy; the papers would treat it as a felony if either of them dared to cut in front of a founding daughter. “Have a good evening, Your Highness,” she heard him say to Blythe who barely looked his way. She made a beeline for the screaming crowds and paparazzi, hugging hysterical members of the public and hitting pose after pose for the cameras. Rina did it in reverse, she thanked him before ascending up the stairs without so much as a glance towards those who had congregated by the barriers. Adrienne didn’t blame her. If she were still single, she’d be avoiding any pressurising and intrusive questions too.

Selena was next. She stood in front of Lorenzo as he interlocked their fingers, helping her down as far as he could reach without throwing himself out of the carriage in the process. Adrienne eye’s widened. As soon as Selena was out of Lorenzo’s reach, her hand effortlessly found that of the carriage man’s. Her descent seemed to move in slow-motion, with the flashes of the paparazzi bulbs making her dress sparkle like a billion stars peppering the night sky. But, rather than marvelling at the lights, colours and crowds the way she had been, Selena was looking at him. “Thank you, Hayes,” she smiled, causing his cheeks to flush. Adrienne went cold, looking at Lorenzo for a reaction. He was preoccupied surveying the crowds, nodding every now and then to a hysterical face who’d managed to catch his eye. If he had seen, he didn’t make it known. “Want to go and find our seats?” Troy had kept his arms linked around Adrienne’s since they had climbed the stairs up to the theatre. After her clash with her father and Raymond, she wasn’t going to complain about the extra support. “You go ahead,” she told him. A faint burst of laughter erupted from somewhere on the other side of the foyer. “I’m just going to go and freshen up. This dress doesn’t make it easy to stay camera ready.” “You could’ve fooled me.” He replied without missing a beat, leaning in to kiss Adrienne’s cheek before making his way across the plush, carmine carpet and then up the stairs towards the royal boxes. Adrienne let her fingers dance over the tingling ring his lips had left on her skin. Troy Wilson made it hard for her to remember that being a princess of sorts was no fairy-tale. Bang...The door slammed against the wall of the bathroom stall. ...Bang... and another... Bang, bang Again... Bang, bang, bang. Adrienne paused and inspected her surroundings before leaning against one of the quartz counters with her back to the mirror. She was well and truly alone. Only then did she feel safe enough to lift the skirt of her gown and retrieve her mobile from a hip bag that sat hidden under the layers of fabric that created her elaborate skirt. Every founding daughter had two phones; one was their official phone, usually managed by an assistant, and the other was their personal one; cluttered with texts, private social media accounts and everything you’d expect to see on the phone of a twenty-five-year-old. Adrienne had been using the alias of Liberty Stephens for at least three years now, and as far as she was concerned, nobody suspected a thing. With swelling paranoia, her eyes flickered to the door every five, and then every two, seconds as her fingers fumbled to find herself in her contacts. The person on the other side picked up before the first ring had even finished. “Hello?” “It’s me. I’m in the foyer bathroom...Just left of the bar,” “I’m already inside.” Heather, Adrienne’s lady-in-waiting, panicked. “They’re closing the doors soon...” Adrienne let out an elongated sigh and turned to look at herself in the mirror, relieved to see that she didn’t look a fraction as stressed as she felt. Her dark eyes were bright and reflected the soft spotlights overhead, making them look like they contained a whole new universe. “We’re not going to be able to do this any other time without the distractions, just find an excuse to be excused.” And, before Heather could even think of a response, Adrienne hung up. She was still leant against the counter top, fiddling with the single crocus that sat beside the sink when Heather arrived. Whatever the name for the emotion that existed between exhaustion, boredom and anxiety was, that’s what she looked like. Adrienne wasn’t surprised. Workers didn’t usually enter the main theatre for the King’s Independence Day ceremony. They were carted off to one of the backrooms and left to watch the action from a grainy television with juice and leftovers from the main party. Adrienne felt guilty for even bringing her along. “It’s starting in half an hour, we don’t have time,” Heather said, running a hand through her choppy, blonde locks. “Half an hour is plenty of time,” Adrienne said. She ignored her friend’s attempt at a protest. “Did you bring my purse with you?” Defeat filtered through Heather’s eyes as she nodded, holding up a crystal-embellished pendant bag that took the shape of a seashell. Adrienne internally yelled at herself for noticing how out of place it looked paired with Heather’s cheap, frayed work dress. Taking the purse from her, Adrienne rifled through it. Heather might have been anxious about being gone for too long, but Adrienne was more concerned about somebody coming in and catching the two of them. She wasn’t sure if Heather had considered that and wasn’t going to bring it to her attention. Her fingers closed around a pregnancy test. “I’ll stand against the door,” she told her. Heather’s father was a labourer descending from the Swedish settlement. At one point, he’d been a cleaner for the Kioni family, which was how the girls initially met. Her mother was a shopkeeper and an Amethyst Native. By default, that meant that Heather was beautiful beyond comprehension. She was blessed with the glistening, tanned skin, button nose and full lips of her mother, as well as her father’s long, fair hair and rounded sapphire eyes. When the girls first met in the Kioni’s dining room one autumn, jealousy prevented Adrienne from getting to know her properly. She spent weeks comparing herself to the cleaner’s nameless daughter. Why don’t I have slender shoulders like that? How come my eyes are so dull compared to hers? Do I have the body of a boy? Am I too tall? Those thoughts still came back to haunt Adrienne occasionally, but she’d also grown comfortably into her own identity. The Amethyst Islands disregarded the beauty, kindness and intelligence of women unless they were paired with wealth and status. There wasn’t enough beauty in the world that would make her want to switch places with Heather. After painful moments of silence, a shaky breath emerged from Heather’s stall. “If this goes how I think it will, I...my parents will kill me.” Adrienne swallowed hard, “You’ll still have me.” Silence. “No offence, Adrienne, but I work for your family and even though they’re gracious people, the world you all belong to doesn’t have the same heart for people like me.” Adrienne dug her teeth into her bottom lip. It was true. People loved to paint the Amethyst Islands as a snow-globe of culture, rich with history and aesthetic beauty, and it was. But there was also a huge class divide that sat stubbornly underneath the country’s strokes of beauty. “You could stay in our guest house,” Adrienne offered weakly. Heather didn’t say anything and she instantly knew it was the wrong thing to say. “But, let’s just wait for the results.” Tourists often saw the world of the upper-class who occupied the main island’s central city and its provinces, as well as the breath-taking estates on the settlement islands. Whereas most of Amethyst’s citizens saw more of a balance; they were the middle-class. Sitting comfortably along the South and East of the mainland, they occupied the settlement’s towns which held a humble and cosy charm. And then there was the hidden lower-class; poverty-stricken and pushed into the North and North-West of the mainland. An overwhelming number of them had native ancestry and if they were privileged enough to live on a settlement island, it was to serve a wealthier family in a property they didn’t own. Everybody knew their place and these days the divide was so clear-cut that you could usually tell where somebody came from without even asking. Minutes felt like hours and Adrienne could hear the remaining stragglers in the foyer begin to make their way into the theatre, their voices becoming fainter and fainter before finally disappearing. Heather had taken the test minutes ago but had refused to come out of the stall until she saw the result for herself. Now, they were stood on opposite ends of the bathroom locked in a heart-wrenching stare. Heather’s eyes were sunken and red, she looked frail and shook as if there were a wild animal locked within her trying to break its way out. She didn’t have to say anything. Adrienne choked on a sob and paced across the bathroom, pulling her friend into a tight hug. “It’s going to be ok,” she said, at a loss of any other response. Heather pulled back, furiously wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “You’re going to be late.” “Heather, it’ll be all right. He is going to make this ok.” Where was he anyway? Here Heather was, cowering in the bathroom, while he was probably on his fourth glass of Dampierre Champagne being waited on left, right and centre. “No,” Heather snapped. Adrienne retreated in surprise. The girls were best friends first but given their situation and Heather’s position, it was rare she spoke to Adrienne in such a way. “He can’t know, nobody can know. If anybody finds out he slept with a lady-in-waiting, a commoner from the North Mainland.” She emphasised the ending of her sentence as if even she was disgusted by the thought. “He’d lose everything. I’d be an outcast everywhere, not just in your world.” Adrienne gave a defeated sigh. The fact that Heather was forced to look at the world through such different eyes to her own tormented her. She didn’t have the privilege of being able to march into the theatre and confront the idiot who’d slept with her at the King’s party a few weeks ago, before washing his hands clean of any trace of her. In Adrienne’s world, he wouldn’t get away with it. In Heather’s, he had to. “Well then, if he doesn’t make things easier for you, I will,” Adrienne promised, taking her hands carefully. Surely Heather wasn’t the only ‘regular’ girl who’d gone weak at the knees for a guy with status. They were irresistible enough when to girls who were on a level playing field. Imagine how easy it was to fall for one when they doubled as a getaway car from a life of poverty and struggle. How many more girls had covered for them in silence? "Thank You.” Adrienne bowed her head courteously as the guards who stood outside her family’s box opened the doors for her. She wasn’t late but it felt as though time had slowed down. Nothing felt particularly urgent. She stared into the darkness of the main theatre before stepping inside, letting her eyes adjust to the lack of lighting. Just Adrienne’s older brother, Silas, acknowledged her entrance with a faint smile that was only made visible thanks to the glow from the stage highlighting his features. He turned back around before Adrienne could smile back, his hand resting gently on the knee of his fiancé, Julia Thibault. She was pretty in a generic way with soft features, light, wavy hair and a peppering of freckles across her nose. Adrienne still wondered what made Silas fall for her. He was Julia’s polar opposite with a bold sense of fashion and ombre dreadlocks usually swept back into a low ponytail. They too were expecting their first child but rather than blood-shot eyes, anxious pacing and choking on sobs, Julia was sparkling with pride. Watching her sitting in her pastel gown with both hands cradling her stomach, Adrienne couldn’t help but feel bitter towards her on behalf of Heather. Troy was the next to acknowledge her as Adrienne filled the empty seat between him and her father, looking down as Raymond paced across the stage, working the crowd below. His irritating voice may have been echoing through the theatre, but at least he was keeping eyes off of the founding families for once. They sat above in their respective boxes, watching the ceremony in peace. “Everything ok?” Troy laced his fingers with hers as soon as Adrienne was settled. “I just needed to freshen up. I felt nauseous,” she whispered, “It may have been something I ate at breakfast.” Troy softly kissed the back of her hand. “It’s just as well I put in a request to withdraw your speech then, isn’t it?” A voice that wasn’t Troy’s intruded on their moment of intimacy. Adrienne turned to look at her father, his words only gaining weight once she absorbed his sobering expression. “What? You can’t just-” “I can and I have,” he interjected. “You may be a founding daughter, but until you start acting like one and learn to control your temper, you do not get the privileges of one.” Adrienne’s eyes fell to her mother, catching her robotically nodding along to her father’s words. Their coldness made her feel sick. Adrienne’s mind was swimming and foggy. It was only when Raymond introduced ‘His Royal Highness, King Gabriel de Beaumont of the Amethyst Islands’ that she touched base with reality again. Along with the rest of the theatre, Adrienne rose to her feet and clapped into a surge of applause as King Gabriel walked on to the stage. He was everything the biographies, columns and portraits portrayed him to be and more. “Thank you, Happy Independence Day.” His voice caught the attention of the theatre in a royal clutch, immediately causing it to fall into silence. With his shoulders back, eyes focused and chin raised an inch higher than the proudest person’s in the room, he observed his audience. “It’s always an honour to gather here to celebrate the progress our nation continues to make...” Even from the distance of her box, Adrienne saw the vivid blue pools of his eyes glistening under the stage lights. Resting his hands on the podium, he continued to talk, knowing the room was hanging on to every last word. A noise ripped through the auditorium. It could have just been something falling backstage. King Gabriel looked up in innocent confusion, ready to turn it into an impromptu joke. Something falling twice? Three times? A surge of panic crashed into the theatre before anyone had time to run for cover. Dozens of guards sprang into action from dark corners, forming a mob on the stage around the King. Screams and unrest began emerging from the floor, engulfing the theatre and drowning anyone underneath it’s ceiling. Instinctively, Adrienne tried to peer over the edge. A harsh hand yanked her backwards. Their own guards sprang into action. Metal shutters slammed down around the box. The door behind them locked shut. “Get on the floor.” The guard’s voice was lost somewhere in the mayhem. “Adrienne, get on the floor!” Troy’s wasn’t. Trembling, Adrienne lowered herself to the floor, entering the ambience of shaky breaths and Julia’s sobbing. “Dad...” Adrienne whispered. A cold but steady hand found hers. He didn’t say anything but it was all she needed. She kept her eyes on the dark outline of the doors to their box. They remained shut. Their guards were stood inches in front of them, guns at the ready. Whatever was happening in the chaos below, Adrienne found herself in a moment of hypocrisy. Thank goodness for the shielded world of the Kioni family.

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