#one chicago moodboard

[kitweewoos]

not fair (like we hoped)

Summary:

After his divorce, Jay is having a rough time, and Mouse is there to help him.

Ship: Greg "Mouse" Gerwitz & Jay Halstead, Past Jay Halstead/Hailey Upton, Greg "Mouse" Gerwitz/Jay Halstead

Rating: Teen Audiences & Up

Archive Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Words: 2,956

Chapters: 1/1

Additional Tags:

Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence

Post-Divorce

Pre-Slash

Bisexual Jay Halstead

Coming Out

Talking

Late Night Conversations

Can be read platonic or romantic

up to you

[read it now on ao3]

[aromanticbuck]

Brandon "Mouse" McHolland (for @highclasstrashposts, who did most of this worldbuilding, honestly)

In the summer of 1985, a basket was left in front of Firehouse 51. Inside, there was a baby, and a blanket, and a note pinned to the fleece. There was no explanation, no number to call, no indication that whoever had left him there would return.

take care of Brandon for me

There weren't many people to take care of him - between Herrmann's new marriage and Boden's crumbling one, the number of homes he could go to was slim. But it would be worse if he was put into the system, being passed from one foster home to another without any kind of stability. If they wanted to follow the single instruction left in the note, and take care of the child that was left in their care, he needed a good life, someone constant in it, a support system he could always rely on no matter where life took him.

So, even if Mouch was the one who took him in, gave him food and a roof, it really did take a village to raise a child. While his name legally became Brandon McHolland, he had an entire firehouse to call family. He had uncles and cousins, even if none of them were related to him by blood. He had as many people to go to for advice as he could imagine, and plenty of space to roam around the firehouse when he started walking and saying more than babbled syllables.

When he still had trouble repeating a few names he heard around the firehouse, with the ch coming out closer to sh, he got his own silly nickname that wasn't far off from his adopted father's. By the time his age reached double digits, he answered to Mouse more than he answered to Brandon, and he almost preferred it that way. Even if they weren't family biologically, having a name, no matter how silly, that could be easily mistaken for another felt important to him. It gave him a connection to the most important person in his life beyond the same address and last name.

"No one cares more about abandoned babies than me."

[ request a moodboard ]

[senditcolton]

anthony beauvillier x "red wine supernova"

so baby, let's get freaky, get kinky let's make this bed get squeaky

tags: @comphy-and-cozy @tkachvkmatthew @smileysvech @laurenairay @thewintersoldierdisaster @fallinallincurls @barzysunflower @pyotrkochetkov

[felicitysmoaksx]

NHL Star! Connor Rhodes

Connor loved hockey. It had been his escape after his mother passed. It gave him a way to work out his anger and grief. A way to avoid his father, and the looming family business when everything became too much. When the world was pressing down on him. Hockey carried him through childhood to high school and even college. But the sport was never meant to be his future. Actually, he was meant to go to medical school and become a trauma surgeon. But all those plans came to a screeching halt when he was unexpectedly drafted by the Chicago Blackhawks. Now he was at a crossroads. He could continue with his plans to go to medical school. Or he go with this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and play a sport that had given him so much, professionally. One thing was for sure. Med school could wait. It would always be there. Hockey wouldn't.

[roberttchase]

Matt Casey

This one’s for the ones who stand, for the ones who try again, for the ones who need a hand, for the ones who think they can

[spiritcold5]

[daughter-of-melpomene]

HAPPY (BELATED) BIRTHDAY, WYATT FRIEDMAN!!

“One Chicago” OC — born April 3rd, 197

General Taglist: @hiddenqveendom, @foxesandmagic, @artemisocs, @auxiliarydetective, @reyofluke-ocs, @endless-oc-creations, @stanshollaand, @ginnystilinski-reblogs, @luucypevensie, @ginger-grimm, @arrthurpendragon, @fakedatings, @impales, @claryxjackson, @dancingsunflowers-ocs, @eddysocs, @lucys-chen, @ocappreciationtag.

[landing-safeheaven]

[aceghosts]

OC Moodboard: Blake Maddox (They/Them)

"One love for your enemy/Two steps from the edge of your sanity/Three strikes for the cavalry/You cut me close to the bone/Four walls that you'll never see/Five waits for a taste of humanity/Six feet, what a travesty/You cut me close to the bone"-a new moral low ground by Architects

[hydesjackiespuddinpop]

Jay and Leia, strangers, circa 1993-1994

Due to their parents ending up more busy, Jay and Leia couldn’t see one another in those summers. They called and wrote when they could, but their hearts ached for one another. School was also a big focus in their lives as well and that was a factor in their busyness.

[pushupcontest]

summery reesker mood board ♡

[kitweewoos]

the truth about Will and dogs

Summary:

Will has always loved dogs, and after he brings another one home, Connor decides that they might as well run an animal rescue.

Ship: Will Halstead/Connor Rhodes

Rating: General Audiences

Archive Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Words: 1,661

Chapters: 1/1

Additional Tags:

Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence

Established Relationship

Fluff

Domestic Fluff

Animal Shelter

[read it now on ao3]

[aromanticbuck]

Moustead + Hollywood AU

Jay Halstead had lost count of the number of dangerous stunts he'd done. He'd actually lost count of the number of movies he'd worked on to begin with, and then multiplied by the number of stunts he'd done for each one... well, he hadn't gotten into the business because he was good at math, that was for sure. He did it because he was good at it. He did it because he enjoyed it. He did it because the rush of adrenaline that came with it was almost as good as the connections he made doing it.

He'd been working with Thelma Gerwitz and her productions company for years without a single bump in the road. He was in every standard contract that Elliot Knox's agent drew up after the actor's big break - the fastest growing name in Hollywood had to have the best stuntman in the business for every role, of course. It meant Jay had steady work for as long as Elliot did, and as each contract was signed, he learned more and more about the production company that seemed to be bankrolling the star's entire rise to fame.

"Halstead! Get over here!" "Is there something you need from me, Thelma?" "Show Greg around the set, will you?" "Aren't there PAs for that? They get paid to deal with visitors." "Don't be ridiculous, Halstead. Greg isn't a visitor. My son will be working with the director this week as the liaison with your stunt coordinator. You aren't too busy to give him a tour, are you?" "No, ma'am."

One set tour and one week of his performance being run by another set of eyes for approval is all he'd signed up for. When that turned into three movies in a row, and then a brief stint on some show marketed to teenagers, and half a dozen more movies... Jay saw more of Greg than he even saw of Elliot. That might have had something to do with how much time they spent in Jay's trailer. Liaising. About stunts. And definitely not making out against every surface they could find.

He was just getting tired of that - sneaking around, hiding under the bed or in the cramped trailer closet when someone needed Greg's attention - when it all went wrong.

Elliot was throwing one of his usual fits, something about Jay's jawline showing up too much in a shot and taking the attention away from him. He acted as if anyone even knew Jay was there, as if he didn't brag in every single interview about doing his own stunts. But that was just what the job was - doing the dangerous stuff that no one else wanted to do, and letting Elliot take the credit for it. That was what he expected to do on a daily basis. At least it was a good paycheck.

What he didn't expect was a miscalculation, a rig that wasn't checked thoroughly enough, a harness that wasn't quite up to holding his weight. He was supposed to be caught in the middle of the fall, stop in midair so that the footage could be cut in with a take of Elliot hitting an airbag and continuing with the scene. Instead, the rope just kept slipping through the rig, and it was Jay who was filmed at the end of the fall, but there was no bag to catch him. So, when he fell, he hit solid ground, and the crack that filled his ears at the impact was quickly replaced with the ringing coming from inside them.

A fall like that was more than enough to end any stuntman's career, no matter how much of a recovery he would make. That was a fact that Greg had known before he knew he wanted to work on movies at all. He followed his mother to sets through his childhood, watched movies get made, watched stunts performed by professionals to make for perfect shots. When he brought up the idea of directing a movie of his own, she encouraged that dream, with the stipulation that he learned the ins and outs of it all before he did it on his own.

Greg liked working with the stunt teams almost more than he liked working with the stars. He knew what to ask them to get just the right shot for the final product, knew how Erin, the stunt coordinator on most of his mother's films, liked to communicate with her team. He fit in better with the nobodies, as Elliot liked to call them, than the people who had cameras pointed at them beyond their ten hour filming days.

Specifically, he really liked Jay.

He really liked the privacy of trailers, and getting time alone with someone who didn't want his attention just to get on his mother's good side. He really liked talking about his work, and the directorial decisions he helped make on set every day, even if his name was what had gotten him in that position in the first place. He really liked kissing the man who cared about his input where they couldn't be interrupted or judged by anyone who wanted to insert themselves into his life.

Watching the fall that ended his boyf- best friend's career was a moment he would never forget. It had felt like slow motion, like a bad dream that he was going to wake up from at any moment. But he never did.

Instead, Greg pushed through the worst of his fears and anxiety and stopped by the hospital once a week. He never made it past the elevator, sometimes staring at the hallway that led to where he knew Jay was, but never stepping out of the protective cage. If he did, he might get the ground ripped out from under him, as if he was the one who had fallen, not wanting that feeling back of his stomach in his throat. Maybe he was. Maybe he had fallen even before the malfunctioning rig had taken so much from him.

He got glimpses of Will, the brother he'd seen pictures of but never met. He got quiet updates during lunch breaks on set from Erin. Jay was going to be fine. He was expected to make a full recovery, after more time than anyone would like him to spend in a hospital and a strict physical therapy schedule. But he had his family to get him through that, and Greg knew from the start that he'd never had a chance at being part of that inner circle.

He let himself be swayed by his mother, pushed his focus back to his career and the stunts that had to be filmed for each project. After two years, he could forget about Jay when he was awake, put all of his attention to what needed to be done in a work day, and those eyes would only haunt him in his dreams. It was good for him, or so his mother liked to tell him, not letting himself worry about something he couldn't change. He could gain his own reputation in the industry, start signing onto his own projects, and take on the task of directing a movie from the start of the process to the end.

It was long enough after the incident that he didn't think about it when he was planning a scene with Erin. He didn't even think about it when the new stunt guy on his set took a turn on the track too fast and ruined the shot by bumping into the camera. He didn't think about it while he marched across the set to give the apparent rookie a piece of his mind. He didn't think about it while the car's door was pushed off and landed on the ground - the model was completely totaled, so he was quietly glad that the rest of the run went flawlessly, even the way the vehicle flipped across the tarmac, and the VFX team could fix the botched angle.

He didn't think about it until the familiar body straightened up, and for the first time in years, he was looking at Jay Halstead again.

"I thought you always said you were going to leave it to Elliot to make the dramatic entrances." "This entrance wasn't dramatic." "You showed up on my set, Jay. Two years of radio silence and then you just showed up without so much as a hello before you busted a camera." "I told Erin that the track was-" "I don't care. Last I checked, you were out of the stunt game completely. Get off my set and leave it to my real crew." "Your real crew? Sorry, I was under the impression that you asked for me specifically." "After you never texted me back or returned my calls? Why would I ever want to see you again?"

[elenarodriiguez]

missing

it has been three hundred and ninety seven days, thirteen hours and fifteen minutes since sarah reese was last seen. by investigators’ standards, her disappearance is a cold case.

but not for ava. sarah had been the only person to make moving almost eight thousand miles from everything and everyone she’d ever known.

their friendship had been the only thing keeping her afloat in those first few awful months, and her kisses had been the only thing that had felt like home to ava on this side of the atlantic.

she knew that sarah wouldn’t have just left her alone without any warning, and she definitely wouldn’t have gone willingly with robert.

if only the waste of space cops would believe her when she told them that, repeatedly.

now it has been three hundred and ninety seven days, thirteen hours and sixteen minutes since sarah reese was last seen.

and then ava’s phone rings, an unknown number with a chicago area code. one maggie lockwood at gaffney chicago medical centre informing ava that a jane doe had been repeating her name and number ever since she’d been found.

three hundred and ninety seven days, thirteen hours and sixteen minutes without sarah reese, and ava was certain they wouldn’t spend a day apart ever again.

[erinlindsayy]

Could I request a lawyer Erin moodboard?

anything erin related is pretty much always an automatic yes

[bless-my-demons]

One Chicago Mood Board

Chicago

Matthew Casey

Kelly Severide

Jay Halstead

Adam Ruzek

Kevin Atwater

Main Masterlist