#Joe Cruz imagine

[themultifandomgal]

Joe Cruz- Scare To Trust Again

Triggers- toxic relationship, boyfriend hitting girlfriend once. Cheating. Boyfriend thinks woman shouldn't have a 'mans job'.

My shift at the firehouse finishes so I get myself ready for my date with my boyfriend Reece. I walk out of the locker room

"YN is that you?" Severide whistles

"You scrub up well" Gabby smiles

"Thanks"

"Cruz close your mouth before you catch flies" Casey chuckles

"YN you look..." Cruz is lost for words so Brett finishes for him

"Beautiful"

"Still not sure why your with Reece" Herrmann scoffs

"Maybe because I love him" I reply rolling my eyes

"But he cheated on you" Severide frowns

"Yes but that was a drunken mistake"

"Hmmm" Matt crosses his arms as Reece arrives

"I'll see you guys tomorrow" I wave bye to everyone and leave the firehouse getting into Reece's car

"Hi baby" I smile getting into his car, but he just grunts in response. Must have had a bad day. The drive to the restaurant was silent, somethings off.

We sit down at a table in silence, Reece starts looking at the menu

"Whats going on?" I ask not picking my menu up

"Nothing" he replies. His phone beeps, he looks at it and quickly replies putting his phone back down

"Reece somethings wrong"

"Nothings wrong. Now look at your menu and decide what your having" not wanting to cause an argument I do as I'm told. We oder our drinks then our waitress walks over to us again. I notice Reece's mood shifts and he puts on a smile

"Hi what can I get you"

"I'll have the steak, medium rare. She will have the Caesar salad"

"Of course" the waitress turns around and I notice Reece watching her, more specifically her ass. I cross my arms annoyed at him. He looks back at me with a frown

"What?" He replies

"Are you serious? You were just checking her out"

"Here we go. Jealous YN as always"

"There's a difference with being jealous and being upset because your boyfriend was looking at their waitresses butt" I whisper yell

"Give it a rest YN" he sighs "I'm taking you home aren't I?"

After we leave the restaurant and head home Reece is still acting weird and constantly on his phone. So once he goes into the shower I do something I never thought I'd do, I take his phone and unlock it to check his messages. He's been messaging many woman talking to them as he would me. One message even implied that she enjoyed the sex. Furious I stand up with the phone still in my hand. I march my way to the bathroom and open the door, not caring that Reece is in the shower

"Are you fucking serious?"

"What?"

"Your fucking cheating on me again?"

"Well what do you expect when your at the firehouse all the time" Reece gets out of the showers wrapping a towel around his waist

"At work!" I yell "did you forget I'm a fucking firefighter?"

"Maybe if you were at home doing the cooking and cleaning not doing mans work..,."

"Woah woah woah. Let me stop you there. It's not the 1950s Reece. When we started dating you knew I was a firefighter, you knew that I was working full time. So why now are you saying I should be in the fucking kitchen"

"My head hurts YN give it a rest" Reece gets himself dressed "let's just go to bed"

"No I'm not getting into bed with you when you've admitted to cheating and then told me that I should be a house wife"

"Shut up" I then feel a pain across my face. My eyes widen. Without saying anything I grab my stuff and leave the house with Reece calling me to come back. I get in my car and drive home, thankful I never actually fully moved in with him.

The following day I arrive at the firehouse in a mood. I've done my best to hide the bruise but gave up when it wouldn't fully disappear. I go to the lockers where Cruz is putting his things away

"You good?" he asks me "is that a bruise on you face? what happened?"

"Let's just say I'm now single" I slam my locker and head to the kitchen area to make myself a coffee

"Did Reece do this to you?" this gets the attention of everyone at the firehouse "did he hit you?" I sigh in response not really wanting to get into it

"YN what happened last night?" Gabby asks walking over to me. Tears start to threaten to spill

"He's been cheating on me again. I confronted him and he slapped me telling me to shut up"

"Oh YN" Gabby and Sylvie pull me into a hug

"Has he ever hurt you before?" Severide asks

"No. That's the first time. I left him and went home after that happened"

"Good"

Later in the afternoon I hear a commotion outside

"How dare you lay a finger on YN! I hear. I rush outside and see Joe pushing Reece back

"Cruz calm down" Severide holds him back

"Reece go" I say "we're over ok"

"Babe come on. It was a stupid mistake"

"Which part? cheating on her or hitting her?" Herrmann asks

"Babe come on. I won't do it again"

"Just leave Reece"

"Oh and if you decide to harass her, I'll be making a call to my friend over in intelligence"

"Go" Joe shouts.

"Hey you ok?" Joe asks waking over to me at Mollys after our shift

"Yeah. Just sucks. I'm 30 Joe. I thought in the next few years I'd be married with kids and now I have to go through the whole process again"

"I know it's not ideal, but you'll find the right guy. Who won't cheat on you or hurt you. Never know you may have already met him just not realised it"

"I'm so scared to trust again"

"Hey look at me" I turn and look at Joe

"You will trust again, I promise"

"Thank you" I give Joe a hug thankful I have friends like him who have my back.

Months go by, I do have to get a restraining order against my ex, especially when he found out that Joe and I had starting to see each other. And Joe was right, I did learn to trust again.

[alotofpockets]

Last resort | Leslie Shay

Pairing: Leslie Shay x Firefighter!Reader Reader pronouns used: she/her Summary: Chief Boden orders everyone to evacuate the building, will you follow his orders when you hear a baby crying? Masterlist | Chicago Fire masterlist | Words: 2.1K

It had been a quiet day at 51, you were playing cards with the rest of squad 3 when the alarms went off, signaling all units to move to an apartment fire. You jumped up and ran to the truck, kicking your shoes off and stepping into your boots. You pulled the pants up, the suspenders over your shoulders, and hopped in your seat. Squad was the first to pull out of the firehouse. Severide taps away on his tablet, “Okay, squad, listen up. The fire is fully evolved. We’ll be the first company on scene, let’s work quickly. When we’re on scene we have to move fast. Let’s wait on Bodens orders, y/l/n you’re with Cruz, Tony with Capp, and Mills you’re with me. Do you copy?” You all let him know that you copy him and mentally prepare for the call you’re about to have.

When you arrive at the scene you can immediately tell that it’s bad. “Alright, people, let’s go to work.” Boden says over the radio. “Truck 81,  primary search on the first floor, Squad 3 you take the second and third. Engine, I want a line on the first floor and raise the aerial in case it’s needed. Ambulance 61, set up triage. Let’s go, people.” You look to Kelly to hear which floor you have to go to. “Cruz, y/l/n, second floor. The rest with me to the third.”

Once arrived on the second floor, you and Cruz go door to door. The fire has already reached this floor too, so you have to kick in all the doors to check for people that might’ve passed out from the smoke. Cruz takes the north wall and you take the south of the massive hallway. You kick in another door and yell, “Fire department, call out.” Into the room. You hear a man call out, “Over here.” They hid in the bathroom. You help them stand up and walk them back to the stairwell. They seemed to be doing fine, so you urged them to walk down by themselves, making sure to tell them to get checked out at triage. When you walk back you see Cruz helped an elderly woman to the stairs as well. “Need a hand?” You ask. He shakes his hand, “No, keep going, I’ve got this one.” So, you do, door after door, you search the room. A lot of the apartments are empty already, people that weren’t home or that walked downstairs at the first sign of something wrong, you were glad there weren’t a lot of people because the smoke started to get thicker and the flames bigger. Cruz was already back kicking in doors as well, when you heard Boden’s voice over the radio. “Attention all units, five more minutes and then I want everybody out.” You look over at the many doors you have yet to check and speed up your pace. 

It hadn’t even been five minutes yet when the next order came over the radio. “Attention all units, I’m calling it. Everybody out!” You hate leaving all these rooms unchecked, but you knew that Boden was right, the fire was strong. You followed Cruz towards the stairs when you heard a faint cry that stopped you in your tracks. When you heard it again, it sounded like a little kid. You had to make a decision, follow orders, or try to save the child. Against your better judgment you turn around and take off in the direction of the cries, leaving Cruz behind. The crying gets louder the further that you walk down the hallway, meaning that you are getting closer.

Cruz walks out the door and takes his mask off to take a deep breath. He sees the rest of 51  standing behind Boden, all looking in his direction. Boden is quick to speak up, “Cruz, where is y/l/n?” Cruz looks around thinking you were right behind him this whole time. “She was right behind me.” He says in disbelief, already putting his mask back on. “Cruz, stand down. I can’t let anyone back in.” He reaches for his radio. “Y/l/n, report. I want you out of this building, right now.” You hear his request on the radio, but ignore it as you’re kicking in the door that you hear the crying coming from. The fire has already made it through the ceiling of the living room, you crouch down making your way over to the crying. When you reach an open bedroom door you find the crying baby. He was lying in the arms of a woman laying on the floor. You quickly check for a pulse, you’re relieved when you feel a regular heartbeat, she must have passed out from all the smoke that was filling the room. “Y/l/n, report.” You hear over the radio again, worry now present in his voice. You don’t have time to respond as you hear a voice coming from underneath the bed. “Is mommy okay?” You look under and find a girl who can’t be more than three years old. Your heart sinks, how were you going to get all three of them out, with the fire getting stronger and stronger. Setting aside your worries, you pull her out from under the bed. “Mommy is okay, the smoke just made her really sleepy, that’s all.” You take the young girl by the hand and pick up the baby, to move them to the bathroom where you’d all have some more room to breathe. “I’m going to get your mommy now. I will be right back, I promise.” You sit down next to the mom, feeling her pulse once again. Still a steady heartbeat. You reach for your radio. “Chief.” You take a deep breath before speaking again. “Chief, is Leslie with you?” Chief Boden ushers Shay closer. “She’s standing next to me. What's going on?” Shay shares a worried look with him. “Leslie, baby, are you there?” You hear her respond with a shaky voice. “Yes, the line is open, you’re scaring me, what’s going on?” - “I love you so much, but I have to try. I just wanted to let you know that I love you, in case I..” She interrupts you, “Don’t say it, you come back to me okay. I love you, please come back to me.” It breaks your heart to hear her like this. “I’ll try my best, I promise.”

You grab the bedsheet and drag the mom towards the bathroom where you left the kids. Once inside you take off your mask. The little girl is crying, you take off your glove and wipe away the tears. “I know it’s scary, but I’m here to help. My name is y/n, what about you?” Between sobs she tells you that her name is Mila. “Okay, Mila, let’s get you all out of here.” You take off your oxygen tank and your coat, before you turn the water on in the bath, drowning the bedsheets. “Mila, honey, come here. I’m going to wrap this around you, okay? And then I want you to climb on my back.” The girl nods. You were trying to create some sort of carrier with the sheet that would hold both Mila and her little brother, so that your hands were free for their mom.” Once you had Mila attached to your back, you picked up the baby and wrapped him to your front. “I’m going to put my coat back over you okay, I want you to be very still and hold on to me, okay honey?” You button up the coat so that both the kids are safe from the fire. With the remaining part of the bedding you wrap up the mom’s body, making sure that she has some kind of protection from the flames before you pick her up and take one last breath of oxygen from your mask, since you had to leave it behind. 

The fire had spread through more parts of the apartment, but there was no going back now. You went around as much fire as possible and jumped through the ones you couldn’t go around. To your surprise you made it to the stairs. You hold the mom close as you decent, quick but careful. The smoke was really starting to get to you, but you couldn’t stop, you made a promise to Mila and you intend on keeping it. 

Outside the team was watching the building, hoping and praying that you would walk out of the door. They didn’t believe their eyes when they saw you exit the building, everyone running your way. Kelly takes the woman out of your arms and lays her down on the stretcher from one of the paramedics. You fall to your knees from coughing so much. Leslie sits down with you trying to calm down your breathing, while Cruz tries to help you up, but you push him off. Between coughs you manage to say, “The kids.” - “We can’t go back in, y/l/n. It’s too dangerous.” You shake your head and open your coat, revealing the improvised baby carrier. You shake off your coat to reveal a second child. Once your teammates take the kids from you to get checked out. Dawson is by your side with an oxygen mask, you eagerly put it over your face and take some deep breaths. “You scared me so much, please never do that again.” Leslie says hugging you tight. 

Chief Boden steps your way. “You did good, y/l/n.” He says. “Get yourself checked out at the hospital, you took in a lot of smoke.” You nod in agreement. Dawson steps up to Boden, “Can Shay and I take her? I know Shay won’t want to leave her side right now.” Boden agrees to let them take you and will let dispatch know that ambulance 61 is out of order for the time being. 

The doctors do some tests, they all go well and you are cleared to start duty right away. Dawson drives the ambulance back to the firehouse where your teammates gather as soon as they hear you pull up. You step out of the back with Leslie, as soon as they see you they’re all relieved to see you’re doing so well. “I’m all good, don’t worry guys.” You walk up to the Chief. “I got cleared for duty, Sir. I did have to leave some of my gear behind, though.” Boden nods, “We’ve got some spare tanks and masks, don’t worry about it. Glad to have you back.” Once Boden walks away you turn your attention back to the team, they all give you a hug or pat on the back. Luckily the rest of the day was slow, just a couple small calls, so you were able to catch your breath a bit more. 

After a night of uninterrupted sleep, you join the team for breakfast. Mills cooked, and it was delicious as always. Boden ordered an inventory check on all the vehicles, so that’s where you headed next. You were crouched down checking equipment when you heard people walking outside. “Mommy, I see her!” You turn around at the familiar voice. Mila comes running up to you and jumps into your arms. “Hi Mila.” You hug her tight, seeing them here meant so much. Since another ambulance company treated them, you didn’t know how they were doing. Mila lets go after a while remembering something. “We made you cookies.” You smile at the little girl, you had only seen her scared on the scene, which made seeing her so cheerful now even more happy. She pulls you over to her mom who was talking with Leslie and Chief Boden. “Hi, I’m y/n, nice to meet you.” You say extending your hand. Instead of shaking your hand she goes in for a hug. “I’m sorry.” She says while stepping back. “Shaking your hand didn’t seem enough, you saved my life.” She looks down at her kids and adds, “Their lives. I owe you everything.” You smile at her, “No need to apologize, and of course, I was just doing my job.” The woman shakes her head, “Everyone that I have talked to has said that you went above and beyond for us. So, thank you. Thank you so much.” Hearing back from the people that you saved was so special. Knowing that you’re the reason they are able to stand right in front of you. “Do you have some time to stick around? I would love to show Mila the trucks, if she’d like.” Mila was already nodding her head enthusiastically, “Please, Mommy.” 

Your girlfriend was watching you in awe as you posed for pictures with Mila on your lap behind the steering wheel of the Squad truck. While Chief Boden was proudly watching you interact with the family that you saved. 

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[logansargeantsbabymom]

None Of This Is Your Fault.

Brian "Otis" Zvonecek x Fem!Firefighter!Reader

A/N: Sorry that I've been so inactive, I know this is no excuse but I school started and my job is starting to get into it's busy season and to my luck I managed to tear my meniscus and I've been in so much pain so writing has been the least of my concerns. I am getting surgery on Thursday so I will be writing more soon. For now, please enjoy my new fic.

This is a 20 chapter story and I've put 10 chapters in one fic. It's a lot but this is my apology for being inactive.

Chapter 1:

Five years. That’s how long I’ve been with Brian. It feels like a lifetime and just a blink at the same time. We met in the most unconventional of ways—running into each other during a late-night call, both of us soaked in sweat, soot smeared across our faces, the smell of smoke thick in the air. It wasn’t the most romantic setting, but maybe that’s why it worked. There was no need for pretenses between us. We were both drawn to the fire, the adrenaline, the chaotic beauty of our work. And somehow, through the chaos, I found him.

Brian “Otis” Zvonecek—my partner in every sense of the word. He’s not the guy who sweeps you off your feet with grand gestures or sweet talk. No, Brian is the guy who shows up every single day. He’s steady. Kind. Funny in the way that only he can be, with those ridiculous puns and the way his face lights up when he thinks he’s landed a good one. It’s impossible not to laugh when he’s around, and God, that’s what I love most about him—he makes everything lighter, even when the world feels heavy.

But these days, the world is feeling a little heavier than usual.

We’ve both been working nonstop—Firehouse 51 is like a second home, though lately, it feels more like a first. There’s something comforting about the firehouse, the constant hum of activity, the sound of the trucks rumbling to life, the distant chatter of my crew—no, my family. And Brian? He’s always been at the center of it all. Our relationship bloomed in this place, surrounded by the people who understand what we go through every day.

I remember the early days with him so clearly. It started as a few casual glances across the engine bay, nothing serious at first. Just an awareness of him. His laugh was what caught me. The way he threw his head back, completely unguarded, while the rest of us were tense and wired after a tough call. He had this way of letting it all roll off his back, and I admired that.

It wasn’t long before we were partnered on every shift, making excuses to grab dinner after. One night, after a particularly tough rescue, he suggested we go for wings. I was exhausted, drained, and covered in soot, but something in his voice made me agree. I needed that—something normal, something grounding. We sat in that little corner booth, devouring spicy wings, laughing about the ridiculousness of our lives. It was simple, but it was the first time I felt like I had found something real. Something worth holding onto.

That’s how we’ve always been—just us, grounded in the simplicity of being together. No grand romantic gestures, no pressure to be anything other than who we are.

And for five years, it worked. I always felt secure with Brian. Sure, we’ve had our share of arguments—what couple doesn’t?—but they were always small, petty things. We’d bicker about who forgot to fill the gas tank or who left the towels on the floor, but those disagreements never lasted long. We were always able to laugh it off, make a joke, and move forward.

Lately, though, I’ve been different. Not us—me. I feel it deep inside, like there’s something pulling me away, pulling us apart. I don’t know why, but these past few months, things that shouldn’t bother me do. Things that used to make me laugh now irritate me. And sometimes, when the irritation boils over, I lose control in a way I never have before.

Brian doesn’t say it, but I can tell he’s worried. He’s always watching me now, his brown eyes searching for some sign that I’m still the same Y/N he fell in love with. But the truth is, I don’t feel like the same person anymore, and that scares me more than I care to admit. The outbursts come out of nowhere—sudden, violent flashes of anger—and then, just as quickly, they’re gone, like they never happened. And the worst part? I can’t remember them.

It’s terrifying.

It started small. A broken plate here, a slammed door there. I chalked it up to stress. Firefighting is a tough job, and we’re no strangers to pressure. But as the weeks turned into months, the episodes became harder to ignore. They were no longer just occasional moments of frustration—they were frequent, and sometimes, I wouldn’t even realize something was wrong until I saw the look in Brian’s eyes. That look of concern, like he didn’t know how to help me, like he was afraid to say the wrong thing. I hated that look. It made me feel like I was losing him, losing us.

But I kept telling myself it was fine. I was fine. If I just pushed through, if I worked harder, the episodes would stop. I thought if I ignored it, I could outrun it.

I was wrong.

Tonight, as I lie in bed next to Brian, listening to his soft breathing, I can’t shake the feeling that something big is coming. Something we won’t be able to ignore. I stare at the ceiling, the weight of it pressing down on me, my chest tightening. The love I have for him is overwhelming, and I don’t know how to protect it anymore.

Brian stirs beside me, his arm draping across my waist as he pulls me closer in his sleep. I close my eyes, taking in the warmth of his body, the familiar scent of him. He feels like home. But the fear of losing that—of losing him—is more than I can bear.

Tomorrow is another shift. Another 48-hour stretch. I tell myself things will get better, that I just need to push through. But deep down, I know something has to give.

And I’m terrified that when it does, it’ll be too late to save what we’ve built.

Chapter 2:

The first time it happened, I barely noticed it. Looking back, that should have been my first clue. It was such a small thing—a flash of frustration that I thought was just stress from work. We were off-duty, Brian and I, sitting at the kitchen table after a long day. We’d been talking about the usual—our shifts, the next firehouse event, Cruz’s latest terrible joke. Brian had a way of making everything feel easy. Comfortable.

But that night, something was different.

I don’t even remember what set me off. One minute, we were laughing, and the next, I felt this surge of anger bubbling up inside me. It wasn’t anything Brian said or did, not really. It was more like a wave crashing over me, completely out of my control. I felt like I was drowning in it, and the next thing I knew, I was standing over the kitchen sink, my hands trembling as I stared at the shattered remains of a glass I didn’t even remember throwing.

Brian was standing a few feet away, his face pale, his eyes wide with shock.

“Y/N… what just happened?” His voice was quiet, careful.

I blinked, trying to piece together the moment, but it was like a fog had settled over my mind. “I—I don’t know.” My voice sounded distant, unfamiliar. “I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay,” he said quickly, stepping forward. He placed his hand gently on my arm, his touch grounding me. “It’s okay. It was just a glass.”

But it wasn’t just the glass, and we both knew it. Something had shifted inside me, something dark and uncontrollable. And the worst part was, I couldn’t explain it. I couldn’t tell Brian what was wrong because I didn’t know.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, my throat tight. “I don’t know what happened.”

Brian smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “It’s fine. We’re both tired. It was just a glass.”

I nodded, but as I swept up the broken shards, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something had broken inside me, too. And it wasn’t going to be as easy to put back together.

Chapter 3:

Weeks passed, and the tension in the air between Brian and me seemed to grow with each passing day. It wasn’t just at home anymore—my outbursts were starting to creep into our shifts at the firehouse. It wasn’t anything major at first, just little moments where I’d snap at someone or lose my temper more easily than usual. Everyone chalked it up to the stress of the job, and I let them. It was easier than admitting something was wrong.

But inside, I could feel it building—this pressure, like a balloon swelling inside my chest, ready to burst. I thought I could handle it. I thought if I kept myself busy, if I focused on the work, I could push it down. But firefighting isn’t a job where you can afford to lose control.

I remember one call in particular. It was a standard house fire, nothing we hadn’t seen a thousand times before. The flames were manageable, but there was a lot of smoke. We went in as a team, each of us with a role, moving in sync like we always did. Brian was with me, like he usually was, our movements so familiar we didn’t even need to talk to communicate.

But something was off that day. The smoke felt heavier than usual, the heat more oppressive. My helmet felt like it was pressing down on my skull, making my head throb. I tried to push through it, focusing on the task at hand, but my mind was racing. Every sound—the crackle of flames, the muffled voices over the radio, even my own breathing in the mask—felt like it was closing in on me.

“Y/N, you good?” Brian’s voice crackled through my radio.

“I’m fine,” I muttered, though my vision was starting to blur at the edges. We were almost done, just a few more minutes. I could make it. I had to.

But then, out of nowhere, the frustration hit me. I don’t know why—it wasn’t a particularly stressful call—but something inside me snapped. I felt a surge of anger, irrational and uncontrollable. I swung my axe harder than I needed to, cutting through debris with more force than was necessary. I heard Brian call my name again, concern clear in his voice, but I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. I was too focused on the pounding in my head, the rage bubbling just beneath the surface.

When we finally exited the building, I ripped off my helmet and tossed it to the ground, breathing heavily. My heart was racing, my hands trembling.

“What the hell, Y/N?” Brian was at my side, his voice sharp. “You could’ve hurt yourself in there.”

“I’m fine,” I snapped, my voice harsher than I intended. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing,” he said, his brow furrowing as he looked at me. “You’ve been off lately. This isn’t like you.”

I turned away, not wanting to hear the concern in his voice. I didn’t want to admit that he was right—that something was wrong with me. “I told you, I’m fine.”

But I wasn’t. I knew it, and Brian knew it, too.

Chapter 4:

The firehouse had always been a place of comfort for me. It was where I felt in control, where I knew I could make a difference. But lately, even that had started to feel like a burden. My outbursts were becoming more frequent, and I could see the strain it was putting on everyone—especially Brian.

At home, things were getting harder. Brian tried to be patient, but I could see the frustration in his eyes whenever I lost my temper. He’d always been the calm one, the one who could smooth things over with a joke or a smile. But even he couldn’t keep pretending that everything was fine.

We had one of our worst fights a few nights after that call. I don’t even remember what started it—something small, something stupid. But it spiraled out of control so fast. One minute, we were sitting on the couch, watching a movie, and the next, I was yelling at him, accusing him of things that didn’t even make sense.

“You don’t even care about me anymore!” I shouted, the words spilling out of my mouth before I could stop them. “You’re always at work, or with Cruz, or doing anything but being here with me!”

Brian looked at me like I’d just slapped him. “Y/N, what are you talking about? I’m always with you! We work together, we live together—how much closer can we get?”

“That’s not what I mean!” I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes, but I didn’t care. “You’re here, but you’re not really here. You don’t look at me the same way anymore. You don’t—”

“Stop,” he cut me off, his voice calm but firm. “That’s not true, and you know it. I love you. I’ve always loved you.”

His words should have soothed me. They should have made me feel safe. But instead, they only made the anger flare hotter. “Then why do I feel so alone?” I whispered, my voice breaking.

Brian’s face softened, and he took a step closer, reaching for my hand. “Y/N, I’m right here. You’re not alone. But something’s going on with you, and you won’t talk to me about it.”

I yanked my hand away, refusing to meet his eyes. “I’m fine,” I muttered for what felt like the hundredth time.

But I wasn’t. I wasn’t fine, and I was pushing him away without even meaning to. I could see it in his eyes—the worry, the frustration, the helplessness. He didn’t know how to fix this, and neither did I.

That night, we went to bed without saying another word. Brian turned his back to me, and I lay there, staring at the ceiling, feeling the weight of my own silence pressing down on me. I wanted to reach out to him, to tell him I was scared, that I didn’t know what was happening to me. But the words wouldn’t come.

All I could do was lie there and wonder how much longer we could keep pretending that everything was okay.

Chapter 5:

The firehouse was unusually quiet that night. It was the kind of quiet that crept into your bones, making you restless. We were on the second day of a 48-hour shift, and exhaustion hung in the air. Normally, a shift like this didn’t faze me—adrenaline and routine kept me going. But tonight, my head felt like it was being squeezed in a vice. The migraine was pounding behind my eyes, a dull, throbbing pain that no amount of coffee could fix.

I rubbed my temples, trying to will the headache away. Brian had noticed it earlier in the shift and offered me some Tylenol, but I turned him down. There was something about this headache that felt different, heavier. And I was already on edge—there was no way I wanted to dull my senses while on duty.

I kept my distance from the crew tonight, choosing to sit quietly at the kitchen table, nursing my coffee and staring blankly at the TV. Normally, I’d be laughing with the rest of them, especially Brian and Cruz, who were busy trading ridiculous jokes and stories. But I couldn’t focus on any of it. The migraine had lodged itself deep in my skull, making every sound feel like nails on a chalkboard.

I was counting down the hours. Only eight more hours of this shift. And then, finally, Brian and I could go home, grab food from the new Wingstop, and just unwind. It had been a long week, and I was craving something normal, something that would remind me of the simplicity of us. I clung to the thought of getting those wings together. It was the one thing keeping me grounded, the one thing I was looking forward to after the chaos of the last two days.

As if on cue, Brian wandered over to me, his smile easy as always, though I could see the concern lingering in his eyes.

“Hey,” he said softly, sitting down across from me. “How’s your head?”

I forced a small smile, though I knew it didn’t reach my eyes. “Still there, but it’ll pass. Just need to get through these last few hours.”

“We’re almost done,” Brian said, his hand reaching out to gently brush mine. “And then it’s Wingstop time, right? I’m starving.”

I nodded, feeling a small flicker of relief. “Yeah, can’t wait. Been thinking about it all day.”

Brian paused, his brow furrowing slightly. “Actually… about that. I just grabbed Wingstop with Cruz an hour ago. Didn’t realize you’d still want it tonight. You cool with grabbing something else?”

The words barely registered at first. They came out so casually, so matter-of-fact. But as they sank in, I felt a sharp, searing heat rise in my chest. My fingers tightened around the coffee mug in my hand as the rage swelled, unbidden and uncontrollable. I blinked, my vision blurring for a moment as my heart pounded in my ears.

“Wait, what?” I could hear the edge in my voice, sharp and venomous, even as I tried to keep it together. “You just had Wingstop? You knew we were supposed to get it together after shift.”

Brian’s eyes widened, taken aback by the sudden shift in my tone. “I didn’t think it’d be a big deal. We can still get it if you want. I’ll eat it with you, no problem.”

“No,” I snapped, the word flying out before I could stop it. “I don’t want it anymore.”

Brian frowned, confusion and concern mingling on his face. “Y/N, what’s going on? It’s just food. If you want Wingstop, we’ll get Wingstop. It’s not a big deal.”

But to me, it was a big deal. It felt like everything—the headache, the exhaustion, the tension between us—was boiling over, and this one tiny thing had pushed me over the edge. I could feel it happening, the anger building into something unstoppable, and I hated it. I hated that I couldn’t control it, couldn’t stop the words from tumbling out.

“You always do this!” I shouted, my voice breaking as the room seemed to close in around me. “You say one thing and then turn around and do whatever you want! Do you even care about what I want anymore? All I wanted was this shift to end so we could finally go home and have a normal night together. But no—of course you couldn’t even wait for me to get the food we talked about!”

“Y/N,” Brian said softly, reaching out to touch my arm, “I didn’t mean—”

“DON’T TOUCH ME!” I jerked away from him, my heart racing as the room fell silent. Everyone was staring now—Cruz, Mouch, Sylvie, Herrmann. Even Chief Boden, who had been standing by the door, was watching with furrowed brows.

I could feel my hands shaking, my vision blurring as tears welled up in my eyes. “All I wanted,” I choked out, my voice trembling, “was a little quality time with my boyfriend. But instead, I get stuck on this miserable shift with a migraine and a boyfriend who only cares about himself.”

The words hung in the air like poison, and as soon as they left my mouth, I felt something inside me shatter. My heart was pounding, my breath coming in ragged gasps, and before I knew it, tears were streaming down my face. I didn’t even recognize myself in that moment. This wasn’t me.

Brian stood there, frozen, his face pale with shock and hurt. “Y/N, I…”

But before he could say anything else, it was like a switch had flipped. The anger drained out of me as quickly as it had come, leaving me feeling hollow and confused. I blinked, wiping my tear-streaked face as I straightened my posture, suddenly aware of the silence in the room.

“Why… why am I crying?” I asked, my voice soft, bewildered. I looked around at everyone’s faces—confusion, concern, shock—all eyes on me. The pressure in my head eased slightly, the migraine fading as quickly as it had come.

Without another word, I turned and walked to the bathroom, the weight of everyone’s stares pressing down on me like a heavy fog.

Chapter 6:

I spent a long time in the bathroom, splashing cold water on my face and staring at my reflection in the mirror. My face was flushed, my eyes red from crying, but it wasn’t the physical exhaustion that scared me. It was the blank space in my mind, the way the anger had flared so hot and fast, only to disappear without a trace. I didn’t remember half of what I’d said, and what I did remember felt like it had come from someone else’s mouth, not mine.

I leaned against the sink, gripping the edge of the counter so hard my knuckles turned white. I didn’t know what was happening to me, but it was getting worse. And I was terrified.

When I finally stepped out of the bathroom, I saw Brian waiting for me by the door. His face was etched with worry, but his voice was calm and steady when he spoke. “Chief wants to see us in his office.”

My stomach dropped. I nodded silently and followed him down the hall, my footsteps heavy, my heart pounding in my chest. Chief Boden rarely called anyone into his office unless it was serious. And this? This was definitely serious.

When we stepped into the office, Chief was sitting behind his desk, his expression unreadable. He gestured for us to sit, and the tension in the room was thick as we did. Brian sat next to me, close but not touching, his hands resting tensely in his lap.

“Y/N,” Chief Boden began, his deep voice gentle but firm. “Brian explained what’s been going on with you lately. I need you to listen carefully to what I’m about to say.”

I nodded, my throat tight.

“I’ve seen my share of stress in this job. I’ve seen how it can affect people—physically, mentally, emotionally. But what happened out there today wasn’t normal, and it wasn’t safe. For you or for anyone else. You’ve been one of the best firefighters on this team, but I can’t have you putting yourself or others at risk.”

I swallowed hard, the weight of his words settling over me like a cold blanket.

“I’m not asking,” Chief continued, his eyes locking onto mine. “I’m ordering you to go to Chicago Med. You’re not coming back on shift until the doctors clear you.”

His words hit me like a punch to the gut. “Chief, I—”

“This isn’t up for discussion,” he said, his voice softening but still firm. “You need to get checked out. Something’s going on, and you can’t ignore it anymore.”

I felt Brian’s hand brush against mine, a silent show of support, but I couldn’t look at him. I couldn’t face the disappointment in his eyes. All I could do was nod again, feeling a wave of helplessness crash over me.

“Take the rest of the day,” Chief said. “Go to Med. We’ll be here for whatever you need, but you’re not coming back until you get answers.”

Brian stood up, helping me to my feet as we left the office in silence. I could barely process what had just happened—how quickly everything had spiraled out of control. As we walked out of the firehouse and towards the car

Chapter 7:

The ride to Chicago Med was eerily quiet. Brian drove, his hands gripping the steering wheel a little too tight, his gaze focused on the road. I sat in the passenger seat, staring out the window, my mind a blur of confusion, guilt, and fear. Every bump in the road sent a fresh wave of pain through my skull, but it wasn’t just the migraine anymore—it was the uncertainty gnawing at my insides. Something was wrong with me. Deep down, I knew that now. But the thought of facing it, of having a doctor tell me what was happening… I wasn’t sure I was ready for that.

Brian didn’t say much during the drive, and I was grateful for that. I wasn’t sure what I would have said if he’d asked me how I was feeling. How was I supposed to explain the emptiness inside me, the way I felt like a stranger in my own body?

As we pulled into the parking lot of Chicago Med, Brian finally spoke, his voice soft but steady. “I’m coming in with you.”

I nodded, unable to find the words to argue. I didn’t want to do this alone. I didn’t want to walk into that hospital and face whatever it was that had been slowly unraveling me. And as much as I hated feeling vulnerable, I needed him with me.

The bright lights of the hospital stung my eyes as we walked through the automatic doors, the sterile smell of antiseptic hitting me like a wall. Brian led the way, his hand resting on the small of my back, guiding me through the bustling halls. We didn’t have to wait long before we were ushered into an exam room by a nurse, who took my vitals and asked the standard questions.

Then, there was more waiting.

I sat on the exam table, swinging my legs back and forth, my hands folded tightly in my lap. Brian stood next to me, close enough that our arms brushed every now and then, but he didn’t speak. He didn’t need to. His presence was enough—steady, calming, even though I knew he was as scared as I was.

After what felt like an eternity, the door swung open, and Dr. Will Halstead walked in. I knew him well—he’d treated me a few times before, and he was a friend of ours outside of work. But today, he didn’t greet me with the usual smile or lighthearted joke. His expression was serious, concerned.

“Hey, Y/N,” he said, glancing between me and Brian as he took a seat on the stool across from us. “I hear you’ve been having some… unusual symptoms.”

I nodded, my throat tight. “Yeah. I guess you could say that.”

Will frowned, his brow furrowing as he flipped through my chart. “Brian filled me in on what’s been going on. The headaches, the mood swings, the memory loss… we’re going to run a few tests to get a clearer picture. I know it’s scary, but we need to figure out what’s causing all of this.”

I swallowed hard, my heart pounding in my chest. “Do you have any idea what it could be?”

Will hesitated, and that hesitation sent a chill down my spine. “There are a few possibilities,” he said carefully, “but I don’t want to jump to conclusions until we have more information. We’re going to start with a CT scan to get a look at what’s going on inside your brain.”

Inside my brain.

The words echoed in my head, sending a fresh wave of panic through me. I glanced at Brian, who was watching me closely, his expression unreadable. He reached out, taking my hand in his, and I squeezed it tightly, my pulse racing beneath my skin.

“Okay,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “Let’s do it.”

Chapter 8:

The waiting was the worst part.

After the CT scan, they sent me back to the exam room to wait while the results were processed. Every second that ticked by felt like an hour. I sat there, nervously tapping my foot on the floor, while Brian paced back and forth in front of me. His anxiety was palpable, and it mirrored the panic building in my chest. I didn’t know what was worse—the not knowing, or the fear of what we were about to find out.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Will came back into the room, holding a manila folder in his hand. His expression was serious—too serious. My stomach twisted into knots as I watched him sit down again, the air between us heavy with tension.

“Y/N,” he began, his voice low, “I’m not going to sugarcoat this. The CT scan showed something concerning.”

I felt Brian’s hand tighten around mine, his grip almost painfully strong. I couldn’t breathe. My chest felt tight, my heart pounding in my ears. “What is it?” I managed to ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

Will took a deep breath, his eyes soft with sympathy. “You have a tumor in your brain. It’s located in the frontal lobe, which explains the mood swings and memory lapses you’ve been experiencing. It’s putting pressure on the surrounding areas, which is likely causing the migraines as well.”

A tumor. The word hit me like a freight train, knocking the air from my lungs. I stared at Will, uncomprehending, as if he’d just spoken a foreign language.

A tumor. In my brain.

I felt the world tilt beneath me, everything spinning out of control. My heart pounded in my chest, and I was suddenly aware of every sound, every breath, every sensation. Brian’s hand in mine, Will’s steady gaze, the sterile scent of the hospital—all of it felt too real, too overwhelming.

“I—I don’t understand,” I stammered, shaking my head. “A tumor? How…?”

Will nodded gently, leaning forward, his tone careful but honest. “It’s a lot to process, I know. But the good news is that we caught it early. It’s operable, which means we can remove it. We’re going to need to schedule surgery as soon as possible.”

Surgery. Tumor. The words swirled in my head, but none of them made sense. This wasn’t supposed to happen. I was healthy. I was a firefighter—I fought through flames, saved lives. I wasn’t supposed to be the one lying in a hospital bed, waiting for a doctor to cut into my skull.

I felt my hands start to tremble, and suddenly, the weight of everything came crashing down on me. The months of mood swings, the fights with Brian, the outbursts I couldn’t control—it all made sense now. There was a tumor inside me, something foreign and dangerous, controlling me from the inside out.

“Oh my God,” I whispered, my voice breaking as the tears started to fall. “Brian… I’m so sorry.”

Brian’s arms were around me in an instant, pulling me close as I sobbed into his chest. “No,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “You don’t have anything to apologize for, Y/N. None of this is your fault.”

“But I—” I tried to speak, but the words were lost in the sobs that shook my body. All the anger, the fear, the guilt—I couldn’t hold it back anymore. “I’ve been awful to you. I didn’t know…”

Brian held me tighter, his hand running through my hair as he pressed his cheek to the top of my head. “It doesn’t matter,” he whispered. “None of it matters. We’re going to get through this. You’re going to be okay.”

I wanted to believe him, but all I could think about was the word that Will had said: tumor.

Chapter 9:

We left Chicago Med in a daze. The world outside felt too normal, too calm, compared to the storm raging inside me. The sky was still a brilliant blue, people walked down the street, completely oblivious to the fact that my life had just been turned upside down. Brian drove in silence, his hand resting on mine, squeezing gently every so often as if he was reminding himself I was still there. I couldn’t get the word out of my head—tumor.

It felt like some terrible nightmare, one that I hadn’t woken up from yet. Except this wasn’t a nightmare. This was real, and no amount of blinking or pinching myself would make it go away.

We pulled into the firehouse parking lot. I didn’t want to be here, didn’t want to face the crew and see their reactions when they found out. But we had to. They were my family—they deserved to know.

As soon as we stepped inside, I could feel the weight of everyone’s stares. They knew something was wrong. Cruz and Mouch were sitting on the couch, glancing at us with concern. Herrmann, sitting at the table, stood up as soon as he saw us, his brow furrowed.

“Everything okay?” he asked, his voice cautious.

I looked at Brian, but the words got stuck in my throat. How was I supposed to tell them? How was I supposed to explain that everything I’d been through over the past few months wasn’t just stress or exhaustion, but something far more terrifying?

Brian took a deep breath, his voice low and steady. “We went to Chicago Med. Will Halstead ran some tests on Y/N.” He paused, his grip on my hand tightening. “They found a tumor. In her brain.”

The room went silent.

It was like the air had been sucked out of the firehouse. I could see the shock ripple across their faces, the confusion, the fear. Cruz’s mouth opened as if to say something, but no words came out. Boden stepped forward, his eyes filled with quiet understanding.

“A tumor?” Herrmann repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. “What does that mean? Is it… is it serious?”

I took a shaky breath, trying to keep the tears at bay. “It’s operable,” I said, the words sounding distant, as if someone else were speaking them. “They’re scheduling the surgery soon. I’ll… I’ll be okay. That’s what Will said.”

But as I said it, I wasn’t sure if I believed it. The fear gnawed at my insides, making it hard to breathe, hard to think. How could I be sure everything would be okay when nothing felt okay right now?

There was a long, heavy pause before Boden spoke. “We’re going to be here for you, Y/N,” he said softly, his voice steady and full of quiet authority. “Whatever you need—whether it’s before, during, or after the surgery—you’re not going through this alone.”

The words should have brought me comfort, but instead, they only made the knot in my chest tighten. I didn’t want to be the one who needed help. I didn’t want to be the one who was weak, who was sick. I was a firefighter. I was supposed to be strong, to take care of others. Not the other way around.

But now, everything had changed.

I couldn’t hold it back any longer. The sobs broke through, my chest heaving as I tried to breathe, to speak. “I’m sorry,” I choked out, my voice breaking. “I’m so sorry.”

Boden stepped closer, his hand resting gently on my shoulder. “You have nothing to be sorry for,” he said softly.

But I did. I was sorry for everything—for the outbursts, for the way I’d lashed out at Brian, for the times I’d scared the crew with my unpredictability. I felt like I was falling apart, unraveling at the seams, and I couldn’t stop it.

Brian pulled me into his arms, holding me tightly as the tears streamed down my face. I felt everyone’s eyes on us, but it didn’t matter. I couldn’t hold anything back anymore. I cried for everything—the fear, the uncertainty, the guilt.

“I don’t know how to do this,” I whispered into Brian’s chest, my voice trembling. “I don’t know how to be this person. I don’t know how to… how to be weak.”

Brian’s voice cracked as he held me even closer. “You’re not weak,” he whispered fiercely. “You’ve never been weak, Y/N. You’re the strongest person I know. And you don’t have to go through this alone. We’re all here for you—for whatever you need.”

I shook my head, pulling back just enough to look up at him, my eyes red and swollen. “But I’ve been so awful to you. I pushed you away. I didn’t know what was wrong with me, but I—”

“Stop,” he cut me off, his voice thick with emotion. “None of that matters now. None of it. You were scared, and you didn’t know why. But we know now. And we’re going to fix it. Together.”

I wanted to believe him. I wanted so badly to believe that everything would be okay. But the fear was still there, lurking in the background, whispering that things might never be the same again.

The crew stepped forward one by one, each offering words of support, hugs, and quiet reassurances. It was overwhelming—feeling so much love and care when all I felt inside was fear. I wanted to tell them how much it meant to me, how grateful I was, but the words got stuck in my throat.

Finally, Boden spoke again, his voice gentle but firm. “You need to rest, Y/N. Go home, get some sleep, and prepare for the surgery. We’ll be with you every step of the way.”

I nodded, though I wasn’t sure I’d be able to sleep with everything swirling inside me. But I appreciated the sentiment. I appreciated all of them.

Brian took my hand, and we started to leave. As we walked out of the firehouse, I looked back at the crew—my family—standing there, watching us with worried eyes. They believed in me. They believed I could get through this.

I just wished I could believe it too.

Chapter 10:

The night before the surgery was the longest night of my life.

Brian and I went back to our apartment, and for the first time in what felt like forever, the silence between us wasn’t filled with tension or misunderstanding. It was just… heavy. There was nothing more to say, nothing more to do but wait. I could see the worry etched into Brian’s face every time I caught him glancing at me. He tried to hide it, but I knew him too well.

We made dinner, but I could barely eat. The thought of surgery, of having someone cut into my brain, was too much to bear. I pushed the food around on my plate, my stomach churning with anxiety.

Brian eventually took my hand, pulling me into the living room. We sat on the couch, and I rested my head on his shoulder, closing my eyes as he gently stroked my hair. His touch was soothing, grounding me when my mind started to spiral.

“I’m scared,” I admitted quietly, my voice barely above a whisper.

“I know,” Brian whispered back, his voice soft and full of love. “I’m scared too. But you’re going to get through this. We’re going to get through this.”

I wanted to believe him. I wanted to hold onto his words like a lifeline. But the fear, the uncertainty—it was all-consuming. I couldn’t shake the thought that something could go wrong, that I might not wake up after the surgery, that everything could change in a matter of hours.

“What if…” I started, my voice trembling. “What if something happens? What if I’m not the same after?”

Brian’s hand stilled in my hair, and he pulled back just enough to look at me. His eyes were filled with so much love, so much emotion, that it took my breath away.

“No matter what happens,” he said softly, “I’m here. I love you, Y/N. Nothing’s going to change that.”

The tears welled up again, and I blinked them away, trying to stay strong. But Brian’s words broke something inside me, and before I knew it, I was sobbing, my whole body shaking as I clung to him.

“I don’t want to lose myself,” I cried. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t,” Brian whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “You won’t lose me. You’re not going anywhere, Y/N. You’re stronger than this. We’ll face whatever comes next together.”

I buried my face in his chest, feeling the warmth of his arms around me, and for the first time that night, I allowed myself to believe him.

[persage]

TRUE COLORS - BRIAN "OTIS" ZVONECEK

'Cause my boy Otis deserves better

Summary:When you spend your time at 51, you draw Otis on the sly. Everyone notices it, except him. Until fate gets in the way

Word Count: 2.5 k

Maybe it's the way he moves his hands. Maybe it's how he moves the dark curls from his face. Maybe it's the way he wrinkles his nose when he's tired after the shift and starts working at Molly's, tirelessly.

Or it's the way he writes, with his head slightly tilted to the left.

It could be just the way the light fits between his features and makes him pure, bringing out his light skin stained by many small moles. Perhaps it's his dark eyes.

You really don't know. You just can't help but drawing him.

You'd like to draw his eyes after you've seen them even closer and realized how deep they really are, because you're sure they are, more than anything else in the world. Or, again, maybe it's the way he curls his lips as he smiles.

It's probably all together and he doesn't even realize it while a few meters away you're crouched on a chair, in a corner of the 51, almost invisible and your hand moves over a sheet and captures his image, without mistakes or smudges. You could be drawing Brian with your eyes closed by now.

"Are you still here?" Your half-sister, Leslie, asks, noticing you. You've been spending a lot of time at the 51 lately (and equally at the Molly's) officially because you're soon to be Boden's new secretary, secondly to spend time with Lesley. What you didn't expect was to find yourself spending most of your free time observing Brian, scribbling his face here and there, forcing yourself from time to time to portray other colleagues as well so as not to arouse suspicion. "Let me work Lesl" You reply, letting the pen run across the paper noisily. "Our Little Artist" Kelly teases you, ruffling your hair.

"When will you set up an exhibition with our portraits?" Herman asks, chuckling. "That wouldn't be a bad idea you know" Mills replies, winking. "Think about it y/n" You smile uneasily.

"I should find better models" You reply as Cruz and Otis - Brian - shake their heads. "Listen to the nonsense" Your eyes meet and you smile at him and he reciprocates before the siren of the imminent call forces him to leave. You sigh.

He fascinates you just like he torments you, you long for him and at the same time you are afraid to get to know him better. There's something sweet, genuine about him and you admire his courage and his work, but at the same time you're terrified because deep down what do you have to offer? What can make you interesting to him? You're just a failed student who needs to work here to make some money, a failed artist who has lost her inspiration, who can't help her sister in a difficult moment, who didn't get a degree, who can't control the emotions.

"You never color it" Boden has noticed one day, admiring your drawings. "I think it would ruin it" You have replied. The truth is that you are convinced that to do this, especially when it comes to Brian, you should need to see the color gradations of his skin, his face, his freckles or his eyes. It is incorrect to portray a subject and complete it inaccurately. You will use color on his drawings when and if you can see him at very close range. Closer than the Molly's counter or the 51. For now you settle for pencil or pen.

Sometimes you dwell too much on his well-defined lips. It's one of the parts you like to draw the most, after the eyes. Then you look at the finished drawing and wonder if you are experiencing something that will never happen, or not experiencing it at all. And with every call they come back with wounded expressions from a difficult intervention and some new scar on the body or the soul ans you wonder if it really makes sense to waste all this time.

It must be said : fate works in a curious way at times.

You're -again- drawing Brian, he's wearing his uniform and he's approaching the truck laughing with Mouch. The 51 is quieter than usual today and there are few calls, an unusual thing but you don't mind. You smile when Brian turns to face you and pretend to be focusing on someone else, momentarily terrified that he will think you're crazy. You place your pen on the table in front of you, tie your hair into a spooky ponytail, then start over with the care you reserve for important things. Brian  sighs, turning back in your direction, Mouch's hand on his shoulder as he shakes his head repeatedly. You wonder what they're talking about, you get the distinct feeling that it's you, and you feel your heart pounding in your chest.

Stupid little girl.

" Someone has a crush" it's a voice behind you. The worst voice you could hear in this situation: Joe Cruz. Brian's best friend, roommate, his other half.

"Of all of us Otis? Why?" Cruz sits across from you, a hand under his chin and an inquisitive expression on his face that does not hide his happy grin. And you're terrified, now there's no way Brian won't know about it now. "I don't have a crush. I draw all of you Cruz" you reply, trying to hide the blush on your cheeks.

"Yeah sure. You draw me once in a while, once of Herman, maybe three times of Kelly because it's particularly handsome, but I'm sure most of them are about Otis." You shake your head.

"What makes you think that?"

"I've been watching you Little Shay. You know, it's pretty obvious. You're not as good as you think at hiding." You open your eyes suddenly and feel your face get hot with embarrassment. Brian's eyes are still fixed on you and this with Cruz's words short-circuit you.

"If I were you I'd make a move" You need some fresh air. You get up and head for the exit, forgetting the notebook with your drawings on the table in a hurry.

When you come back for it, an hour and two cigarettes later, it's gone.

Two days, seven hours and a new notebook later, your half-sister has abandoned you at Molly's, a beer in front of you to finish and the light chatter of the last remaining customers. Someone sits next to you and lets their chair clatter to the floor. You don't turn around and stay focused on the beer because you know all too well who's next to you. Your senses alert, your heart furious. Brian.

"It's amazing" the voice is warm, but slightly high in pitch and secretly insecure. You shrug. "Thank you" you reply. Your brain is so muddy that you don't even wonder what it's referring to

"This is yours" now you look up and you see it. Brian's hand just reaching out to give you back the notebook. You stare at him dumbfounded. You admire the way the light falls on his face, how he smiled lightly and the lips you've always drawn so carefully, even more beautiful at that non-distance. For several seconds you don't say anything, but you stay still to study him, to study his colors, his embarrassed, sweet expression. Everything seems to stop to you.

"Otis, can you close?" Question Herman before leaving the pub, making you awaken and ashamed at the same time, realizing what you're getting into. You take the notebook without saying a word and start to get up and leave, but the boy's hand stops you, gently grabbing you by the wrist. It is soft, despite the hard work his skin is not rough. His warm skin seems to burn yours, leaving invisible marks.

You look at his fingers wrapped around your wrist, then at him, his dark eyes still fixed on you. He lets you go slowly, almost reluctant to break the contactn and you realize that he has the power to make you sit back, without saying a word.

"Sorry," you say sheepishly, looking away and letting your hair fall in front of your face to cover the blush on your cheeks.

"You shouldn't apologize" He replies, continuing to observe you. You feel his hand approaching your face, his fingers lingering near your hair, and you know what he's about to do, and you wish he would. You would like to him slowly pull your hair back, put it behind your ear, to let his big fingers slide against your skin and you would like to tilt your head to one side, to let yourself go to that contact. But he doesn't.

After a few moments he pulls his hand away, thinking maybe he's going too far.

Sure, your notebook is filled with portraits of him, but that doesn't necessarily mean anything.

"You're good" He whispers. "You're really good little Shay, you shouldn't waste such a talent." You just smile, let a sheepish chuckle leave your lips. Brian doesn't say it, but he feels like he's never heard a better sound in his life. He wonders how he didn't notice it before. Of course, as soon as you arrived at 51 he immediately set his sights on you, but he never really did it with an intention: partly because you are Shay's little sister, partly because he never thought he had any chance despite what Cruz said.

In short, Cruz doesn't always have brilliant intuitions when it comes to women.

Maybe Dawson's jokes could have enlightened him, sure, but anyway...Brian has never been a phenomenon with girls, in a barracks full of men like Kelly Severide why would you have to look at him? And instead you looked at him all the time, drew him so much that it filled entire pages, tracing his features with a pen and making him look much more handsome, bold, courageous, appreciable than he probably was. Because you see him this way.

"At first I didn't know whether to come to you or keep the notebook," he admits. "Then I thought it was a good excuse to talk to you."

"You don't need an excuse to talk to me Brian" you answers automatically, without thinking. He smiles, feels his heart melt in his chest. Hardly anyone calls him Brian, especially at the station.

"I needed to find the courage" he murmurs, clearing his throat. "It's easy in the barracks, between one joke and another but talking... I mean for real... It is different. Especially with someone like you"

"Someone like me?" you raise an eyebrow as he smiles. He is impossibly beautiful as his cheeks turn pink.

"An interesting girl, a curious one. An artist y/n"

"You're the only one who thinks of me like that. Artist."

He shakes his head. "That's not true, we all think so and if you start showing your drawings the whole world would do it" You shyly grab his hand which is still on the table.

"Thank you, you don't know how much this means to me." He hold yours back and intertwines his fingers with yours. He seems made to hold your hand, he seems born to grab you, to keep you close. And you wonder if hugging him gives the same effect, if even his lips are made to kiss yours.

"Listen, y / n ...." he takes on a serious tone of voice and you almost worry.

"Why have you never colored me? I mean, do you see me in black and white somehow? Does my aura tell you something? I'm not an artist, so I don't really know how these things work, but it scared me to death. Do you see me in any strange way?" he looks nervous

"Is that what worries you?"

"What else should?"

"I mean you find the notebook of someone who drew you too many times to count and you're worried about the fact that I don't color you?" you use a hint of sarcasm, realizing this confuses you.

Part of you feared there would be a different reaction, not anger knowing Otis, but at least a detachment, a rebuke. Anyone else would have been upset, but not him, he seems happy. He studies you carefully.

"You think I haven't seen you?" Your eyes widen and total silence envelops you. "What?" You're the one who doesn't understand now.

"Do you really think I haven't noticed that you spent your time looking at me and drawing me?" he shakes his head, amused by your shocked expression  "You've been going on like this for months, aren't you going to pretend that you don't believe me?"

"I..." You can't say more. He laughs and you look at him, and then start laughing , because Brian has written "liar" on his forehead. "No, you didn't understand a damn thing my dear Brian" You retort.

"Oh I don't, but Cruz does. It was just hard to believe"

"And why?"

Brian doesn't answer, he caresses his goatee thoughtfully and you understand that you won't get the truth. Not yet. "Because you're beautiful y/n, people like you fly too many meters higher then me. In short..."

"I've looked at you from the start, Brian." You confess, this time without shame, your will to make him happy is stronger than any embarrassment. You know he needs to know it, to realize his value, for once to be the protagonist, the hero of your story, of your drawings, of your life. Him and no one else.

When silence returns, he turns to you again.

"So? Why didn't you color me?"

"I've never colored you because... I had to see you up close, really close, to be able to color you the way I want" you simply reply and he opens his mouth to say something, but he can't formulate anything, not when you continue. "Modigliani painted empty eyes, without pupils, because he couldn't paint what he didn't know: the souls of the people he was portraying. He only painted those of his partner Jeanne. I suppose it's the same for me. I can't color you without knowing the your true colors, without knowing what undertone your skin is or the paths that the veins form on your body."

Without realizing it, you've started to run your fingertip along his wrist, where the vein pulsates under the skin.

"Do you think." His voice is hoarse, scratched with emotion and excitement. "Do you think you'll give me the chance to let you find out?" He asks shyly. You nod with a slight smile.

"Are you asking me out Brian?"

"I'm asking you for dinner, then let's see what happens."

"Only one?"

"Maybe more than one"

[samantha-chicago]

Who I Write For

These are all the characters I write for. Please keep this in mind when requesting anything.

All requests will be written in a female POV Many Thanks

Chicago P.D.

Adam Ruzek Jay Halstead Kevin Atwater Dante Torres Hailey Upton Kim Burgess Greg 'Mouse' Gerwtiz Hank Voight (Not Romantically)

Chicago Fire

Kelly Severide Joe Cruz Matthew Casey Blake Gallo Stella Kidd Randall 'Mouch' McHolland (Not Romantically) Sam Carver Brian 'Otis' Zvonecek Christopher Herrmann (Not Romantically) Wallace Boden (Not Romantically) Sylvie Brett Violet Mikami Leslie Shay

Chicago Med

Connor Rhodes William Halstead

911 Lone Star / 911

Evan Buckley Eddie Diaz TK Strand Carlos Reyes

S.W.A.T

Christina 'Chris' Alonso James 'Jim' Street Victor Tan Dominique Luca Daniel 'Hondo' Harroldson Decon 'Dec' Kay (Not Romantically)

[callmemana]

Chicago Fire Fanfics:

Brian ‘Otis’ Zvonecek:

Blake Gallo:

Jimmy Borelli:

Joe Cruz:

Kelly Severide:

Matt Casey:

Peter Mills:

[leslieseveride]

huh... that's weird, i really thought kelly of all people would be much more excited to hear that one of his squad members is getting married.

[booasaur]

Can you imagine the horror Cruz felt the past few days, every day, unexpectedly falling deeply in love with this beautiful, lovely and kind woman and then the knowledge that she has to kill her father, actually take the life from someone this kind girl who loves her cares about. And having this conflict, this horror eating at her, corrupting her love for Aaliyah until she couldn't touch her without feeling all the guilt and disgust at herself. Now she also has regret to live with.

Oh, anon, I've been thinking of nothing else!

I was actually afraid after we left Cruz watching Joe's supercut of Amrohi's biggest hits, ep 8 would have her buying into the mission so it'd be more of an action oriented spy thing with Aaliyah only eventually adding a last minute conflict, but that wasn't the case at all! My girl remained cold to it and it stayed only a mission she had to carry out, nothing she believed in.

What's really struck me is that despite Joe and Kaitlyn's years more of experience and close dealings with the politicians and businessmen who showed this was all a game, Cruz saw the truth of the situation more clearly than they ever did, just by listening to Aaliyah. She was able to contrast both versions she was hearing and extract the reality in a way they never could because they never cared about the other side.

Cruz is terrible for undercover work because she treats her target like a human. That's really what it comes down to, right. She saw Aaliyah as a person and valued what she thought and felt and now here we are. And the worst thing for her is that Aaliyah didn't get through to her by being a funny, charming smokeshow (or not JUST that, lol), she was kind and vulnerable. Cruz may be bad at being a spy but she's a great soldier (as we saw in that kitchen, whew) and Aaliyah's exactly the kind of person she wants to protect. Credit to the show for letting us see how agonizing it was for Cruz to go against all her morals and instincts and everything in her to do this mission. The fact that she fell in love, needed and was needed by this one person, the tragedy of it all.

And actually, credit to Laysla De Oliveira as well! I've been praising Stephanie Nur a lot so far and as I mentioned, no shade to Laysla, but Cruz has been quite opaque and hard to read, as intended, I'm sure, she's supposed to be this tough marine AND is playing an undercover role, she mostly just reflected what Aaliyah threw at her. But these last two eps, gosh, she really brought ALL these additional layers. It really sold the romance, like, first, she was NOT faking in those last two eps, but just how guilty and anxious she was, and the anger and self-loathing at the end? Even that moment on the balcony looking out where she was all rueful, it was more subtle but still so expressive:

Honestly, I've actually really loved Aaliyah's character and was waiting for the finale to see if she lived so I could add her to my fave characters list, because I'm not gonna add a character who's built up just for an extra tragic death, but I've ended up adding BOTH. The strength of character Cruz showed in the end to realize and accept what's she'd done, and the kindness in believing both Aaliyah and even her dad deserved more grace, I found myself genuinely loving her by the end.

I really can't tell if she's going to return, but I hope so, she deserves more closure than that, they both do.

[ygsunflower]

I was listening to Post Show Recaps podcast reviewing Special Ops: Lioness Ep 1 & 2. and the two hosts brought up something that inspired me to dive a little bit deeper into Cruz’s character: They pointed out that the Marine officer was kind of using Cruz’s trauma/experience to recruit her. They then mentioned in the US how going to the military sometime is a mean for people to be able to afford college education. The fact that they are just high school graduates, barely 18 years old, and they are signing up for something that might be so much bigger than what they could comprehend at such a young age is crazy. Their conversation got me thinking, this also fits Cruz’s narrative with the military. I mean, I always low key view this show as a military/CIA propaganda recruiting program, but these two hosts made me view Cruz’s journey through a new lens (though not sure this is what the show intended for us to see)- Cruz almost serves as the opposite example of why the young teens/adults, especially troubled individuals, should join the military without hesitations for the second chance it might provide them.

Cruz had a tough upbringing, and even into her early adulthood, her life was full of chaos, abuses, instabilities, and she was unloved. Her first military encounter was so positive that she jumped right on it as her means to get out of her toxic relationship/environment. The Marine officer literally saved her from her abusive boyfriend. You can’t get that “hero/savior” image more straightforward than this. So just like those teens/young adults, she joins the military for a simple reason- it allows her to achieve whatever she wants to in the future. This opportunity gives her a future. Of course, she wasn’t really thinking the deeper meaning of being a marine and being in the military. She probably just thought- oh so apparently I performed well on the written test, and I just aced my physical exam. And on paper, military saves life, so why not? Things will only go up and life will get easier and simpler from now on. Little did she know, and even little did she prepared for the harsh implication of joining the military.

She would probably be fine if she just stayed as a Marine or a typical soldier, because neither depends much on her to perform solo. She got to excel, but she also had the protection of an unit. It’s only when she was thrown into a solo espionage mission where she only had herself making all the on the spot decisions which could lead to the life or death of not just the mission, but also her own life, her team’s lives, and possibly the government’s interests, she started to really consider the weight of being in this line of work. She started to question what she singed herself up for all those years back. I imagine her internal turmoil kept growing as she met Aaliyah and started to develop true feelings for her. With each passing day, Cruz’s realization that this life is not what she wanted only grew. She’s not made for this type of work, at least not as fit for the work as her boss, Joe. In the last episode, Cruz completely lost it, and screamed this in Joes’s face- Joe subscribes to the ideology of the CIA work, and she truly believes in it. As much as this job demands of her, she’s making the conscious decision to pursue it because that’s what she considers necessary for the just/noble cause (in her view). Cruz wasn’t like that at all. This new perspective also helped explain in my head why Cruz sometimes seem a little un-spy-like because this is literally the point. The longer she stays in this mission, the more uncomfortable and unfit she becomes for the job. She joined so she could have safety, stability, and a possibility of the freer future. In my head, she didn’t mind/care much about the military’s ideology until it went against her feeling loved for the first time in her life. And from that moment on, the cruel reality of being in the military became insufferable. What she thought could be a mean to her ideal life turns out to be the force that prevents and even destroys her chance of ever living her ideal life with her loved one... So in the end of S1, Cruz was alone, lost, and broken because her dream was once again shattered by reality.

Laysla really nailed Cruz’s internal turmoil in my opinion. The rigid posture, the hesitation, the pained and dulled eyes… You see how Cruz broke down little by little throughout the season. You see just how much all these burdens and conflicting feelings were eating her up alive especially when she’s with Aaliyah.

Hope we get a S2 where we get to see them exploring more of Cruz Manuelos, and the Aaliyah x Cruz relationship after the bloodshed. I’d love to see how this incident affects Cruz and Aaliyah.

[fictionalmenmistress]

The Private Library

... Of Fictional Men Mistress

Welcome! This post serves as my digital private library... my most beloved collection. None of these works are mine, and all credit is due to the lovely and incredible minds that created these works of art; (which you will find next to their titles, once you choose a category). This is the home to my personal most favorites, and most beloved stories and fanfictions and blog posts I have read. I think about these daily... I adore these. They've made my life better. They've changed my life. They've kept me going during my lowest points in life, and I mean that. I reccomend all of these. These were written by the best writers in the world; true to character, perfectly immersive, so imaginative, feels like you are there.

All of these fanfictions, stories, character & show analysis, random tumblr posts, headcannons, and beloved writings of all types, will be listed in no distinct order, inside their categories. Please Enjoy; explore them all! 🖤🗝☕🥂

The Majorety of these reccomends are for mature audiences, 18+, so if you are a minor, please DO NOT read through these reccomends yet.

Choose a vinyl playlist!

What genre of fandom writing do you want to spin on the turntable???

NOTE: NO LINKS ON THIS LIST ARE CURRENTLY ACTIVE! LISTS ARE BEING FINISHED, AND LINKS WILL BE ADDED TO THIS LIST ALL AT ONCE, VERY SOON. PLEASE CHECK OUT MY OTHER MASTERLISTS, PINNED TO MY BLOG, AND SAVE THIS GOODIE FOR LATER! 😉

• Favorite STARWARS Reccomendations: (The Clone Wars, Prequels, Sequels, The Bad Batch) Analysis / Headcannon / Fanfictions / NSFW & SMUT 🖤

• Favorite BTS Reccomendations: (mostly Taehyung, Namjoon, Yoongi, Jungkook, Jin, Hoseok) Analysis / Headcannon / Fanfictions / NSFW & SMUT 🖤

• Favorite TMNT Reccomendations: (Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Bayverse Turtles, 80s, 2003 TMNT, Rise of the TMNT, 2007 TMNT) Analysis / Headcannon / Fanfictions / NSFW & SMUT 🖤

• Favorite MARVEL Reccomendations: (MOON KNIGHT, WandaVision, LOKI, Loki Laufeyson, Avengers, XMEN, Wolverine, VENOM) Analysis / Headcannon / Fanfictions / NSFW & SMUT 🖤

• Favorite LIE TO ME* Reccomendations: (Dr. Cal Lightman, Tim Roth *actor*) Headcannons / Fanfictions / NSFW & SMUT 🖤

• Favorite THE BOYS Recommendations: (Billy Butcher, The Boys Team) Analysis / Headcannon / Fanfictions / NSFW & SMUT 🖤

• Favorite MY HERO ACADAMIA Reccomendations: (Bakugou Katsuki, Todoroki Shouto, Kirishima Enji, Dabi) Analysis / Headcannons / Fanfictions / NSFW & SMUT 🖤

• Favorite Good Omens Reccomendations: (Anthony J. Crowley *The Demon*, Aziraphale A.Z. Fell *The Angel*) Analysis / Headcannons / Fanfictions 🖤

• Favorite "Warden" Hwajin Na *Get Schooled Webtoon* Reccomendations: Analysis / Headcannons / Fanfiction / NSFW & SMUT 🖤

• Favorite Tom Hiddleston Reccomendations: (Tommy Hiddles *actor*) Headcannons / Fanfictions / NSFW & SMUT 🖤

• Favorite What We Do In The Shadows Reccomendations: (Vladislav The Poker, Viago Von Dorna Schmarten Scheden Heimburg, Deacon Bruke, Stu, Nick "Twilight", Anton The Werewolf, Nandor The Relentless, Guillermo De La Cruz, Lazlo Cravensworth, Nadjia of Axtapos, Colin Robinson) Analysis / Headcannon / Fanfictions / NSFW & SMUT 🖤

• Favorite SHERLOCK Reccomendations: (Sherlock Holmes *BBC*, John Watson, classic sir arthur conan doyle books) analysis / fanfictions / NSFW & SMUT 🖤

• Favorite DC COMICS Recommendations: (BATMAN, The Batfamily, Nightwing, Robin, The Teen Titans) analysis / fanfictions 🖤

• Favorite Impractical Jokers Reccomendations: (The Tenderloins comedy troupe, Brian "Q" Quinn, Sal Vulcano, James S. "MURR" Murray, Joe Gatto) Headcannon / Fanfictions / NSFW & SMUT 🖤

• Favorite Portal Recommendations: (Portal, Portal 2, Wheatley, Chell, the Cores) Analysis / Headcannon / Fanfictions / NSFW & SMUT 🖤

• Favorite Ghostbusters Reccomendations: (Dr. Egon Spangler, Dr. Ray Stanz, Dr. Peter Venkman, Winston Zeddermore) Analysis / Headcannon / Fanfictions / NSFW & SMUT 🖤

• Favorite AVATAR (Na'vi) Reccomendations: (Jake Sully, Neteyam Sully) Analysis / Headcannons / Fanfictions / NSFW & SMUT 🖤

• Favorite Stranger Things Reccomendations: (Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington) Headcannon / Fanfictions / NSFW & SMUT 🖤

• Favorite Tumblr Posts: (random, deep & intellectual, movie, life, advice, or most comedic posts, that make tumblr the greatest platform of all) 🖤

>>> Return to Main Masterlist?

[chicagofires]

i think it’d be funny if we compared the worst things other (male) chicago fire characters have done to the worst things stella has done. like her haters pretend like their faves are either a) perfect or b) face consequences everytime they make a mistake when, often times, neither of those things are the case. it’s just weird how they hold stella to such a higher standard when she has objectively never done anything as bad. and even the “bad” things she’s done are acknowledged and she faces consequences

like joe cruz literally left a man to burn to death. aka probably one of the worst things you could do as a firefighter. i love cruz and i’m not saying he didn’t have reasons to do that but can you IMAGINE if that was stella😭but because it’s cruz no one cared

[themultifandomgal]

Joe Cruz

Scared To Trust Again

[alotofpockets]

Right in front of you | Leslie Shay

Pairing: Leslie Shay x Reader Reader pronouns used: she/her Prompt: "Is that a hickey?" Masterlist | Chicago Fire masterlist | Words: 1k

You loved to cook at the firehouse around the corner, on your days off from the family owned restaurant you worked at. Besides loving to cook, it was also a way for you to see your girlfriend when she was on shift. The environment at 51 was also not bad, you loved being around the people that Shay called her family, even though most of them didn’t know you and Shay were a thing. The two of you didn’t mind people knowing, you just didn’t want to make telling people such a big deal. Severide and Dawson knew for sure as they were her best friends, and maybe some other people had guessed and just never mentioned it. There were however also a few people that were definitely still clueless, like Cruz and Otis, as they were about to prove to you once again, you realized when you saw them walk in with their eyes focussed on you.

“Good morning boys, how was the call?” You ask as you put some scrambled eggs and bacon on a plate for each of them. Cruz was quick to give you an answer, priding himself on saving the day. “I rescued an old lady from her house before it was engulfed in flames.” Otis quickly chimes in, “Not before I located her and told you where to find her.” It was adorable how hard they were trying.  “Sounds like a great start to the day, then.” You smile. 

You had been coming to prepare food at the station for a few months now. When Shay had breakfast duty one day she asked if you could prepare breakfast for take out at the restaurant, after she relayed the many compliments the team gave to the food, you had suggested coming over to cook breakfast in the firehouse once a week, much to Shay and the team's liking. 

Not a day at the firehouse went by without Cruz and Otis trying to flirt with you. Not responding to their flirts or not showing the same interests back didn't stop them from trying every time, though. You had mentioned it to Shay after the first time it happened, wanting to be open about it. She just laughed at their antics with you, before she pecked your lips and told you, “You just tell them off or tell them about us if it gets annoying, okay?” So far, you had just found it funny, and decided to see how long they were going to keep this up, still not in any way giving them a signal that you were interested in them, of course.

You were still making scrambled eggs when Shay and Dawson got back from their call. They walked right up to you for their food, a cup of coffee, and of course they started a conversation with you. When they sat down with the rest of the team Shay overheard Cruz and Otis whispering amongst themselves. “We should start a bet on who will be able to get y/n to go on a date with them first.” She exchanges a look with Dawson, both of them working hard on keeping their laughter in. Shay, like you, thought their antics were hilarious, so she didn't stop them, unless you would get uncomfortable by it. 

Shay joins the conversation of their other teammates. She gets tired of her hair in her face so she puts her hair up in a quick messy bun. “Wow, Shay, is that a hickey?” Mills gasps. Dawson turns Shay's head her way so she can see for herself. “Sure looks like a hickey, Mills, never seen one before?” The brunette jokes. The rest of the team starts bombarding your girlfriend with questions, you look over to the group as it starts quite the commotion. “Okay, okay, calm down. You all get one question.” Shay says, knowing these people well enough to know they were going to drop it.

Capp starts off the questioning round. “Is she hot?” He immediately gets a shove to the shoulder by Tony, “Was that seriously the best you could do?” After he shrugs, Shay answers, “Yes, she's very hot.” Mills goes next, “One night stand?” She shakes her head, “No.” The team shares a look before Casey asks the next question, “Does Severide know who it is then?” Severide answers that one, letting the team know that he does. Otis decides to ask the next question, “Do we know her?” Shay noticed that you were walking towards the table with your own plate of food. “Yes, you do.” She says. You can see their brains working overtime, and have to try to hold in your laugh, as you sit down besides Shay. 

You share a look with Shay, letting her know that however she wants to handle this, it is okay with you. She smiles and puts her arm over the back of your chair. “It's really not that hard to think of a person that you all know.” She says, pulling their eyes back to her. The arm on your chair makes its way to your side, as she pulls you closer to her. “She's literally sitting right in front of you.” After finishing her sentence she places a kiss on your forehead and keeps holding you close. Most of the reactions to the news were comments along the lines of that’s great, congratulations, or you’ve got to keep this one around followed by Mouch pointing to the food and then giving a thumbs up. Of course, those reactions were all great, however, your favorite reactions were those of Cruz and Otis. Their eyes widened when they realized they had been flirting with Shay’s girlfriend for weeks. 

The newly found information made the team quickly forget about the hickey that started the conversation, as the team was happy to see Shay so happy with you. They continued asking you both questions, how did you meet? and how long have you been together? until the alarm rang and all companies were being called to a scene. Shay kisses you before getting up, “Thank you for breakfast, baby.” 

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[under5feet-and-over800pages]

PLEASE VOTE. 3rd PARTY OPTIONS EXIST.

i don’t understand where the “withhold your vote” idea came from, but i can’t imagine a world where it’s a good idea. Boycotting works when you withhold something someone wants. Starbucks wants our money, and they’re not getting it, hence a working boycott. The government that you disagree with, though? It doesn’t want you to vote!! It want you to be silent and scared! and a lot of people not voting, i fear, will not read “we are mad at you and are withholding support” to current politicians. I fear it will read “you scared us into hiding, keep doing despotic shit”!!

I get that the current American political landscape is a nightmare and a half. but not voting won’t solve that issue! vote 3rd party! When the election happens, someone will report percentages of who voted for who. making 3rd party a big percentage will say something! it will communicate our disillusionment of the current parties and their platforms!

Claudia de la Cruz 2024 is a good option. Her platform vocally and exactly calls for an end to the genocide in Gaza. She may not win, even if we all vote for her, but voting for her makes her a big thorn in the side of the two parties we all hate!

there are more options than Genocide Joe and Trump. don’t give up your voice because all the options kinda suck! FORCE YOURSELF TO BE HEARD, DONT GIVE IN TO NIHILISM, VOTE!

[dandelionfairies]

Loving Me (125259 words) by dandelionfairies Chapters: 21/23 Fandom: Chicago Fire Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Kevin Hadley/Original Female Character(s), Matthew Casey/Original Female Character(s) Characters: Kevin Hadley, Matthew Casey, Kelly Severide, Christopher Herrmann, Randy "Mouch" McHolland, Joe Cruz (Chicago Fire), Brian "Otis" Zvonecek, Harold Capp, Original Female Characters, Original Male Characters, Bridget Reagan (OFC), Liam Reagan (OMC), Rian Reagan (OMC), Phelan Reagan (OMC), Colm Reagan (OMC), Brannon Reagan (OMC), Wallace Boden, Cheyanne Preston (OFC), Harrison Murphy (OMC) Additional Tags: First Responder Family, First Responders - Freeform, Firefighters, Police, Chicago Fire Department, Chicago Police Department, Chicago, Chicago Neighborhoods, Slow Burn, On the job injuries, Minor Character Death, LGBTQ Character Series: Part 1 of Always, Part 1 of Bed of Roses Summary: Bridget Reagan is the new paramedic on Ambulance 61 at Firehouse 51. The field is not new to her, however. She comes from a family of first responders, including a brother at 51. Matt Casey is the lieutenant on Truck 81 at Firehouse 51. He never imagined he would actually pass his test, let alone become lieutenant so quickly in this house. Bridget thinks Matt's unreachable; after all, he's a lieutenant and she's merely a paramedic. Matt doesn't do in-house relationships; it'll cause too many issues if something were to happen. Enter Kevin Hadley. Bridget falls for him; Matt is jealous of him.  

[samantha-chicago]

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