siixtyone

[siixtyone]

[ eat it up ladies, leslie shay is back. on another note i'm also graduated so guess imma b sticking around here for a little bit, reviving my love. ]

[siixtyone]

thanks for the warm welcome guys, but it’s time for us to go start our periods. //                                                  indep. selective leslie elizabeth shay, chicago fire. 

                                                 [ portrayed by shenme ] 

[siixtyone]

fatalelity‌:

   chief of surgery & chief of staff.    an embellishment to her collection of titles.    funny how    only  a  few  years  ago  that  she  would’ve  fought  tooth  and  nail for it… yet, now it sits    comfortably atop the embroidery of her coat.       work keeps her busy,  her eyes drawn to    everything and anything that she could find.    fingers wrapped delicately around the mug    in her hands, spectacles donned at the tip of her nose.   she doesn’t need it anymore. not    since  she’s gotten LASIK after burning and damaging her eyes through the venue of grief    striking her at every corner. yet, it provides comfort just like the child she’s always wanted    and now has.    just like the ways how sometimes she still labours about the events of her    past.    painful hisses escapes her lips, knocking her out of her trance as the hot matcha    latte  scalds her bare skin – how ironic that the protocol her residents are meant to follow    are broken by her on the constant basis by her dressed in skirts and free flowing dresses. 

           “ow ow! ah, fuck, that was… nine hundred dollars.” 

   by that she is referring to her heels,  which, ironically is the source of her exposure to the     hopefully minor case of burn.

           “someone get me a cold compress. now!”

        “oh crap.”

   give it two seconds before mini skirt’s yelling catches kendra’s attention. her sleeves    are soaked, but the unfortunate doctor before her seemed to bear the greatest brunt    of this  travesty,  with  the  demands  she  flings out  as though she owned the damn     place. she really should  help,  but  she also should run. the pit she’s dug herself into     was big enough as it is. panic  rises  into   her  throat, and she makes the quick shot     decision to help instead of flee. damn her weakness for the  weak. 

       “shit i’m sorry. i can’t buy you  new shoes but i’ll owe ya a coffee, yeah?”

   eyes  hunt for napkins,  paper towels, a   cold  compress--   anything.  instead,  she     spots a nurse with a pushcart of  supplies.  racing  for   it, she ignores the calls from    her partner and the fabled other,  dodging  enquiries  on what she was doing with a     curt reply of ‘saving a life damnit’. shay wonders if her damn life should  be  on  one     of those cheesy doctor shows  kelly  and her jeered at every time they came on. she    returns with tissues.  

[siixtyone]

[ for @directorbioengineer, cuz u did the thing with the s.c ]

       "dawson! behind you!”

   firefighters drunk off too many beers after a good shift tended to lift spirits and    mischief. shay may  not be sober, but at  least she had another thirty six hours     to sleep off the copius amount of tequila  they  were buying her. a big save, no    casualties-- those were hard to come by. unstable footing throws   the  blonde     into the back of her partner: dark   jacket,  skinny  jeans,  she  was  absolutely     certain that the woman she  had  just  shoulder checked into oblivion was her    partner in medical crime. but as bodies collided, a flash rip of sobriety knocks    sense   into her, and  though the woman may be wearing a jacket that dawson    owned,   she    definitely  wasn’t  dawson.  f u c k.  a  cacophony   of  howling     laughter erupts from behind them.

        “oh shit i’m sorry, dude.”

[siixtyone]

[ hi there, coming out of the wood work to drop a starter call for MUTUALS ONLY PLEASE! like this if u want me to come hit u up and have  me write u  a thing!!! ]

[siixtyone]

[ for @childhealcr​, who liked my s.c ]

      “heya doc, i’m shay,  firehouse  paramedic. brought a little girl in here        last night. smoke inhalation, no parents. just wanted to check in, see        if she’s doing okay?”

   she recognizes his name from the attending sheet she peeked at earlier today,     just to catch a glimpse of what her patients  had   in store for them. she’s only    just gotten  off  her  shift  earlier in the morning, but the little girl hadn’t yet left     her mind. fingers brush  against his  elbow in attempt to catch his attention.

       “her name’s also leslie. no last name that i know of.”

[siixtyone]

[ for @fatalelity, plotted-ish starter call! ]

    she ducks round the corner, swiftly. shay attempted once to tap gabby on the shoulder     as she disappeared into the hall, to signal,  to  send  a  fucking  flare  in  the form of  a      shoulder check. but the paramedic misses,   and  her  partner  is now  left alone  in the      trenches to answer the call of an  overly  enthusiastic  lesbian  doctor.  shit, she hisses,      under her breath as she backs away,  wondering  if she should do the heroic thing and     save  her  from the   impending   seige. lips  pursed  and  gaze  steeled  upon  gabby’s      innocent,  peacful,  and  unknowing  facade   as  the doctor approaches, shay doesn’t      notice the one behind her. haters call it karma, but shay tried  to  save them both. this     scorching  collision  into  another  was   absolutely uncalled for. shit is absolutely right.      they’re in pain, and covered in....matcha?

[siixtyone]

[siixtyone]

sparknshinerpmemes‌:

Reblog this if your muse is protective of their loved ones.

[siixtyone]

[ hi there, coming out of the wood work to drop a starter call for MUTUALS ONLY PLEASE! like this if u want me to come hit u up and have  me write u  a thing!!! ]

[siixtyone]

[siixtyone]

thanks for the warm welcome guys, but it’s time for us to go start our periods. //                                                  indep. selective leslie elizabeth shay, chicago fire. 

                                                 [ portrayed by shenme ] 

[siixtyone]

            here’s the    d i r t y      l i t t l e      s e c r e t,                                                   i just think– – – we are who we   ( are )                                                                                                       – – and i think lotteries are

                                                 stupid. 

                    [  indpt. thirteen  ]        [  private & selective  ]        [  est. 2012  ]

[siixtyone]

[ hi there, coming out of the wood work to drop a starter call for MUTUALS ONLY PLEASE! like this if u want me to come hit u up and have  me write u  a thing!!! ]

[siixtyone]

[ hi there, coming out of the wood work to drop a starter call for MUTUALS ONLY PLEASE! like this if u want me to come hit u up and have  me write u  a thing!!! ]

[siixtyone]

[ it’s been  three years since i’ve been back and i cant wait to write shay again!! thanks for all the new follows! imma post a starter call when i get up! ]

[siixtyone]

     she steps up to the plate, fists still unclenched though she’s       only  a  second   away  from  swinging   it  straight  into  that        manicured smile. but shay’s not like that. 

            “sweetheart, these rumps are out of this world.              and i hope the wind doesn’t change direction              on my way out, because  bitch  isn’t  a  good               look on you.”

  pride swells within the brunette’s chest as the other   woman finally concedes. there’s a million things she   needs to be doing, the least important of which is this.  although she’s well aware the stranger is simply doing  their job, it does little to increase her tolerance, a clear   indication of just what an asshole she truly is.      “sweet fuck all to be entirely honest. now you have       a nice day smokey and remember, no one likes their       rumps well done so be sure to keep yours medium rare”.