---☁︎｡⋆｡ Eddie had gotten them both tickets to a fairly new concert festival. A blues festival, to be exact. His reasoning was that she wasn't a huge fan of metal, so this would be something fun! True, she wasn't a metal fan, and true, Chrissy did enjoy older music styles but blues wasn't a large part of that repertoire. But @vitaegratis seemed so eager to go for some reason, and Chrissy didn't want to ruin that for him. So, to Grant Park they were headed. "Am I dressed properly?" she asked, giving a spin. Pausing slightly, Chrissy looked up at Eddie with her eyebrows drawn together. The blonde was quite the oxymoron; Enjoying popularity from quite a young age, but hating to stand out. "Wait, what does one wear to a blues concert?" She supposed that probably just jeans and a shirt. Maybe an added beret just for the hell of it. "But, uhm, I'm ready when you are!"

I've got you | anthony beauvillier

summary: sequel to til forever falls apart. anthony gets traded again, but everything is different this time.

warnings: unfortunately mentions the bl*ckhawks

a/n: can someone PLEASE get this man out of Chicago?! also let's just pretend he played his first game there I know he didn't but that wasn't good for the plot. enjoy!

xoxo

nina

The light in the nursery is low, only a soft glow coming from the sound machine as you sit in the rocking chair. Hudson is curled up against your chest, the two-month-old snoozing away after finishing a feeding. 

“My sweet boy, you look so much like daddy,” you whisper the words into the darkness as you hear the door to your apartment close. “Sounds like he’s home. Should we go say hi?”

Tito finds you instead, slipping quietly into the nursery and smiling as he sees you and Hudson. But the smile doesn’t reach his eyes as he kneels next to the rocking chair and settles his head onto your chest so he’s face to face with Hudson. 

“What’s wrong, mon amour,” you whisper as your fingers come up to Tito’s hair and stroke slowly. “Anthony?”

“I love you,” he whispers as he looks at Hudson. “I’m sorry my job doesn’t offer any stability right now.”

You hold your breath, knowing that Anthony was on the block for a trade. You try to school your features as you look down at him and meet his eyes, “Tito?”

“I got traded to Chicago,” he whispers the words before he sighs and buries his face in your chest. “I’m so sorry, bébé.”

Your hand continues to card through Anthony’s hair as he struggles to keep himself together. You can feel his staggered breaths and the way he’s trying not to cry as he sinks into your hold. Holding him and your son close to you, you take a deep breath before speaking. 

“Don’t apologize, mon amour,” you whisper as you run your fingers down his cheek. “We’ll go wherever you go. No matter what.”

Your words seem to calm Tito as his shoulders sag and he relaxes in your hold. He doesn’t move until Hudson starts to stir, tiny wails coming from him as he squirms in your arms. Tito immediately grabs for him, holding your son against his chest as he sways silently. You watch your husband and son for a moment, Tito whispering to Hud in French as he walks in slow circles around the nursery.

“Are you upset because of what happened last time you got traded?” you ask quietly. Tito stops for only a second before he continues walking, but it’s enough for you to frown as you watch him. “Oh Anthony, you have to know that things are different now, no?” 

“I-,” Tito turns to look at you with unshed tears shining in his eyes. “I almost lost everything last time. And I don’t want to be there again.”

You stand and gather Tito in your arms, careful not to squish Hudson between you, “You’re not going to lose us, you never could. Okay? No matter where you get traded to we’ll be by your side.”

The three of you stand in silence for a few more minutes, Tito’s grip on you never wavering. Despite the uncertainty ahead, you’re confident that your little family will be okay.

+

“Okay Hud let’s go find Daddy,” you whisper to your son who’s currently strapped to your chest with a pair of noise-cancelling headphones on. He looks adorable as he watches everyone milling around the arena, fascinated by all the activity.

Tonight is Anthony’s first game playing for Chicago and you and Hudson had come to surprise him. You’d moved into your temporary apartment two days ago and had told him that you were still settling into a routine with Hudson so you couldn’t come tonight. As you walked towards the ice though you knew you’d made the right choice in coming.

Tito is warming up in the corner, a few guys coming up and saying hello intermittently. A smile forms on your face as you watch him interact with his new teammates, his outgoing personality shining through. 

“Hey 91!” you smirk as Tito whips around, a huge grin settling on his face when he spots you. “We couldn’t miss your first game!”

Your husband skates up to the glass, his smile growing as he notices Hudson looking up at him with wide eyes. When he meets your eyes your heart melts, knowing that your show of support meant so much to him.

“Love you,” Tito mouths as he presses his hand against the glass.

“Love you,” you mouth back, your hand coming up to mirror his. “Now go score us a goal!”

As requested! This rec list features Kazer Kid Fics -- Jonny and Patrick both with kids and babies AND as kids and babies, with a small dash of de-aging and a spoonful of mpreg. 

⭐ for my personal faves

My Other Rec Lists 🍭 Rec me a fic? 🍭

The Ones Where They Have Kids

No Capes by sorrylatenew ⭐ - j/p as parents; implied mpreg

Husbands. Dads. Retired superheroes.

The Reeducation of Misters Kane and Toews + timestamp by jezziejay - single dad Patrick, teacher Jonny  ⭐

In which Kaner sort of has a kid, and Mr. Toews doesn't know which of them is the bigger brat.

AU featuring teacher!Jon and hockey-player!Kaner. With bonus 'Hawks characters, love notes, pasta jewelry, Be Better Pizzas, pirouettes, a sprinke of angst and guest appearance by Derek Jeter.

trust your intuition (it's just like goin' fishin') by poeelektra - 1988 as parents

They’re on the periphery of the Home Wares section of Target, heading with purposeful stride toward Sporting Goods, when Gabe declares that he wants a doll for his “Been Good” toy.

Every Little Thing He Does (is magic) by jezziejay - single dad Patrick

Jonny Toews is a bewitching man who moves into a mysterious mansion in a small town. Soon, he opens Bell, Book & Candle, a curiosity shop full of candles, lotions, etc., and is enthralling the children of local police chief (Patrick Kane), who believe he is a witch (but not a bad one.) But not everyone in town is appreciative of their quirky new neighbor, and it may take a little bit of magic for him to truly become part of the community.

Under Cover by heartstrings - 1988 as parents

"Just get in the fucking blanket fort, Kaner."

Feels Like Family To Me + prequels by exmanhater - 1988 as parents

Jonathan Toews and Patrick Kane plan, create, and obtain their family.

living next door to alice series by cinderlily - 1988 as parents

"It started with a phone call."Patrick and Jonny are suddenly given the opportunity to be parents. This is how they stumble through it.

some say love is a burning thing podfic by exmanhater - 1988 as parents

If anyone had told Johnny upon entering the NHL that thirteen years later he'd not only have a kid with Patrick Kane, but would be getting ready to go on a 'date night,’ he'd have said they must be smoking some pretty good shit.And then he'd have to wait a decade to eat his words.

In the Middle of the Night - 1988 as parents

Gone are the days when it took a cold, wet washcloth on his face to wake him up. Or: Five times Pat and Jonny's daughter wakes them up, plus one time they wake her up.

so show me family - single dad Patrick

Call it a clan, call it a network, call it a tribe, call it a family. Whatever you call it, whoever you are, you need one. ~Jane Howard

Fill It Up With Love by Frosting50 - single dad Pat; implied mpreg

So Pat’s senior year doesn’t turn out exactly like he’d planned. He still gets his degree in accounting, but he also gets a little girl named Emma. She’s all fat pink cheeks, curly brown hair, and blue eyes. She might have Ryan’s chin, but she’s all Pat’s. And the first time she falls asleep on his chest, chubby hand curled around his thumb, skin so soft and sweet he damn-near feels bowled over with how much he loves her. He didn’t know he could love anyone so much; it makes his heart feel too big for his chest, and he knows that he’ll spend the rest of his life trying to give her the world.

peas & carrots by altri_uccelli - 1988 as parents

Unapologetic Halloween fluff, or: Jonny forgets what day it is, but Kaner's on it.

Can You Lyft Me Up? by Mullsandmutts - single dad Patrick

Even high profile athletes like Chicago Blackhawks Captain Jonathan Toews are forced to utilize paid transportation from time to time. An accidental "share my ride" selection on an app results in a life-altering ride with an mouthy Russian driver (Artemi), an unfairly attractive single father (Patrick Kane) and his adorable sassy (and color-matching-challenged) preschool daughter (introducing Molly Donna Patricia Amelia Kane aka Mo). Jonathan refuses to feel too sketch when he negotiates a plan with the driver to "accidentally" have more shared rides with his new friends. When Mo has a traumatic incident at day camp, Patrick's heart is broken and Jonny enlists the help of Temi and the ever-meddling Patrick Sharp to get smiles back on both Kane faces. Jonathan finds himself more and more drawn to Patrick but Patrick's fears of being a good enough parent for Mo and meeting all of her needs could keep them apart. Will Temi, the Sharp family and a trio of nosy aunts in Buffalo be enough to help Jonathan and Patrick realize what they could have together or will Patrick's stubbornness and Jonathan's fear of ruining their friendship keep them apart? Stay tuned to find out ....

Three by Linsky - i won’t spoil it 

Patrick doesn’t think he’s a pervert. But how would he know? Maybe a pervert is just a thing you are, and it doesn’t feel any different from being a normal person, until you do something perverted. Maybe that’s him.After all, he does have two names on his wrist.

All Your Memories by toewsandconfused - 1988 as parents; amnesiafic

Pat went to sleep a bachelor in the Trump Towers and woke up next to Jonny in the suburbs with three kids calling him Daddy. Struggling to figure out his new reality Patrick had ruled out dream, was banking on delusion because even though it meant he was losing his mind, it seemed safer than some kind of late-onset amnesia. He didn’t want to face that idea that this really was his life; that Jonny was his, that those beautiful kids were his, and he couldn’t remember any of it. The idea that the memories of their life together could be lost forever was too terrifying to deal with. Losing his mind was preferable to losing his memories.

Chelsea, Chelsea I Believe by empathapathique - single dad Pat ⭐

Patrick meets a girl his rookie year.

Don't Let Go by aohatsu - 1988 as adoptive parents

“So you were already with the boy you saved when the fire started?”Patrick pauses, but shakes his head. “No, there was an explosion—I don’t really know what it was, but then it was just me and Tigre, and it’s like, in a situation like that, you don’t really think? You just do. So I grabbed the kid and went through the fire escape. It’s not like I decided I wanted to save anybody, it was just the only option.”

Always Be My Baby by juliusschmidt - single dad Patrick

The thing is, you don’t just grow up once.

as careless as you are certain - single dad Patrick 

March through August, 2015.

the one with the baby yentas series by forochel

Tazer has a son and Kaner is his son's kindergarten teacher.

It's the Magic of Risking Everything by conformityissuicide - single dad Jonny

When Jonny is thirteen he meets a small kid from Buffalo at a hockey tournament.

Then he has a gay crisis, a baby girl, and gets drafted 3rd overall by an Original Six franchise.

When he meets Patrick Kane again at prospect camp he doesn’t feel anything but excitement.

And then it all goes to hell.

"of gifts and fireflies" by huntersandangels - single dad Jon

Patrick Kane hasn’t lived a charmed life despite money flowing through his veins. The journey he is currently on, though paved with good intentions, proves to be a harder challenge than he could ever be ready for. The people he meets along the way give him a much more valued gift than his grandfather could ever dream of giving him. 

I'm gonna love you til my lungs give out by arenadomatthews - 1988 as parents

“Papa, Dad, you guys are retiring today?” Bryan asks, looking up at his parents.“Yeah buddy, we are. Are you gonna behave while Dad and I are doing our press conference?” Patrick asks.

“Duh, Dad. I'm not a baby anymore,” he scoffs.

“He's right, Pat. He's our big boy now,” Jonny adds.

“Yeah, I'm going into 4th grade,” Bryan boasts pridefully.Patrick and Jonathan are finally announcing their retirement after 20 NHL seasons. However, their retirement ceremony will come with a twist: they'll be publicly coming out and revealing their family

Your Daddy's Aim Is True by thefourthvine; podfic by isweedan - cup wish baby! ⭐

patch it up by gasmsinc - 1988 as parents

Jonny stares at his daughter for a long moment. She stares back, eyes unwavering. She has Kaner’s baby blues, but at five she’s already mastered Jonny’s dead on the inside stare. Her kindergarten teacher claims she uses the unwavering look to bully other students into doing what she wants, and it’s something they should work on at home, but Jonny’s baby is a natural born leader, and he’s not going to get in her way of becoming the president, or, better yet, the supreme ruler of the universe.

Your patch,” says Jonny.

Baby, It's Hot Outside by toewsyourheart - single dad Pat 

 Jonny goes for a popsicle and gets a little bit more than he bargained for.

Take All That's Left - divorced single dad Pat

It’s been 6 years now, and he’s grown to enjoy the city since signing with the Rangers to follow Anna, who’d found a job in Brooklyn.

But Chicago; Chicago was Patrick’s first love, all his important firsts – it’s all been hers, and having to leave had been heartbreaking. Too many memories from Chicago were heartbreaking, and yet he always yearned for the city, always felt more comfortable walking her streets than any other place in the world. No other place quite felt like home the way Chicago did.

Isn’t She Lovely by windsthatwhisper + podfic by kanetcews (lavenderharry) - wish baby!

It's nine in the morning when Pat and Jonny stumble down the stairs, sluggish with sleep.

There’s a baby carrier on the kitchen island.

Jonny blinks, blinks again, then turns to get a cup of coffee.

Recreation, Entertainment, Art, or Sport by trademarkgiggle

of course jonathan toews can juggle

so show me family series by peeks, tazer - teacher Pat

“Just admit you like him.”

“Shut up, Sharpy,” Patrick says, before he rolls his eyes and tries to ignore the smirk widening on Sharpy’s lips. “Don’t you have your kids’ parents to bother?”

“No, my last kid left a couple minutes ago, so I’m totally here to watch you and Jonathan Toews make heart eyes at each other,” Sharpy laughs, waltzing into Patrick’s classroom. He immediately makes his way to see Sadie, who greets her dad with a hug.

(In which Patrick Kane is terrible at feelings but luckily, Patrick Sharp is a total bro.)

The Ones Where They’re With Kids

In My Blood and In My Bones + Nothing Sweet or Gentle by fourfreedoms ⭐

Patrick’s not really into dudes—he’s done that whole thing a couple of times—that’s rock-n-roll after all, but god, when Jonathan smiles, he looks really good.Johnny is a nanny. Patrick's a musician. They fall in love. Inspired by the movie What Maisie Knew.

the kids are alright

Patrick works at the sporting goods store Jonny takes his peewee team to for equipment.

given to us as free-flying souls by Mayhem10

Jonathan had never really considered himself particularly good with kids. He didn’t avoid them or anything and it’s not like they burst into tears when they saw his face, but he never was exactly sure what to do with them, these little people running around at waist height. It just wasn’t his area.So, of course, Patrick was basically the child whisperer.

(or five times Jonathan saw Patrick with kids and one time Patrick saw him)

Hide Your Face So The World Will Never Find You (Paper Faces On Parade) by huntersandangels

Jonathan Toews, farm owner and guardian of his nephew, is in desperate need of capable farm hands. Patrick Kane certainly does not fit the description but when a mutual friend confides in him that Patrick has lost everything he owned and is in serious need himself and offers Jonathan money to hire him, how can he say no?

Patrick Kane loves statistics and spending his money on thoroughly planned ‘adventures’ for his friends when he’s not partying away the rest of his fortune. If he wins the bet he can continue to plot freely but if he loses his extra curriculum activities have to stop. He agrees to go on an ‘adventure’ himself and settles in the Toews Farm posing as a farm hand. But as the time goes by, the less pretend it feels-and the more he enjoys Jonathan and Etienne’s company and the quite life in the farm; to the point where he’s not sure whether he wants to win the bet or lose...

Baby, You're the One by jezziejay ⭐

6k words of Jonathan Toews having feelings about babies. And feelings about Kaner. And feelings about putting a baby in Kaner.

The Ones Where They Are Kids

The Cat and the Fiddle series by james - childhood soulmates!

When Donna's son is four, he creates an imaginary friend.

i want to know what you know by sointimate - childhood sweethearts

Patrick is six years old and he's about to do the scariest thing he's ever done in his whole life.

Colorblind by july_v ⭐

Jon is five when he meets Patrick. It's also the time he begins to understand colors as more than an abstract concept.

How to become a man  series+ coda by liketheroad, mockturtletale

In which Kaner gets spontaneously de-aged into a six-year-old, and he and Tazer both have a lot of growing up to do.

Romper Room by james - de-aged 1988

Sharpie doesn't really think this should be part of his duty as alternate captain. Luckily, none of this is his fault. A.K.A., the one where Kaner and Johnny are five.

you ruined everything in the best way by thisissirius + podfic by exmanhater .⭐ - de-aged Saader

Kaner's looking down at the kid, though, frowning. He crouches down. "Hey, kid, where are your parents?

"The kid's bottom lip juts out and starts wobbling. Fuck, that means he's going to start crying, right?

"Oh shi—oot, kid, don't cry," Kaner says. "I mean, if you don't know where they are, we can find 'em?"

"Kaner," Sharpy presses. "That's Saad."

don't worry about your body - de-aged Jonny

No one said anything. Everyone stared at each other then down at the tiny human being that was standing where Jonny had been. Kaner felt his mouth go entirely dry, and his stomach drop out from underneath him.

What the fuck, man.

Can You Picture It? by RemyJane

In which Kaner turns into a baby and everyone besides Jonny seems to understand. Includes excessive cuddling, ridiculously adorable baby-Kaner, and feelings. Jonny eventually figures everything out.

Never Getting That Shirt Back by ice_hot_13 - de-aged Pat

Patrick is de-aged into a toddler, and when he's with Jonny, he isn't a holy terror.

Je T'aime by banks99 (Nodiggity15) - de-aged Jonny

“He won’t take a bath. He’s arguing with me. It’s like he didn’t even change at all.” Kaner’s not pouting, fuck you very much.

MPREG

I Got a Love (That Keeps Me Waiting) by svmadelyn ⭐ -mpreg!pat

There's a lot of different ways this summary could go, like:Patrick Kane gets more than a gold medal in Sochi.

Or, the classic: It's too late to pull out now.Or: Patrick Kane continues to thrive in high pressure situations.Or: Patrick Kane gets knocked up, goes to White Castle, and finds love, not necessarily in that order.

But, ultimately, all that really matters is this: Patrick Kane is keeping his baby.

private passions and secret storms (all the secrets series) by CoffeeKristin, Frosting50  - mpreg!pat

Jonny’s life is good - great even. He loves Patrick and their kids, and even if they don’t always have time for each other, he wouldn’t trade it for anything. But when Jeff Carter comes into his life, Jonny’s world gets turned upside down. It’s going to take everything he’s got to convince Patrick to give him a second - maybe even a third - chance.

Patrick’s blindsided by Jonny’s betrayal and putting his family back together is a lot harder than he expected when their past comes back to haunt them.Can love conquer all?

Forever & Always, My Baby You'll Be by windsthatwhisper - mpreg!jonny

Jonny and Pat's life is a cycle of curse words, late night feedings, and five minute handjobs in the hallway closet.

Aka, I wanted some 1988 w/ a baby feels so I wrote this blurb of a thing in about seven minutes.

efficacy by thirteentorafters - mpreg!patrick

“You,” Patrick says, jabbing a finger angrily at Jonny. “Are gonna fucking help me, dickface.”

Opening his mouth to ask what the hell is going on; Jonny’s eyes drop to Patrick’s stomach. Jonny is acquainted with Patrick’s naked body and the last time they met, Patrick wasn’t fat. Or paunchy. Except that doesn’t look like usual fat. “Oh fuck.”

“Yeah, ‘oh fuck’,” Patrick says, imitating Jonny’s tone. “You knocked me up, asshole. What are you gonna do about it?”

Forever & Always, My Baby You'll Be by windsthatwhisper - mpreg!jonny

Jonny and Pat's life is a cycle of curse words, late night feedings, and five minute handjobs in the hallway closet.

Looked So Fine (I Just Had To Speak) by svmadelyn - !!!! ⭐

Patrick Kane’s talking penis maintains a ‘to do’ list. It is as follows:1. Jonathan Toews

Phone Tag by hawkeytime (jayyloo) - mpreg!Jonny

"Hi mom. Sorry I couldn’t catch you, so I guess I’ll just, uh.. leave a message. See, the thing is… my super-potent sperm may or may not have managed to knock Jonny up. Okay bye."

"Yes, hello, is this Hockey Canada? I just want it written on the record, today, June 31, 2015, that my incredibly improbable unborn child with Jonathan Toews will be playing for America. Yes, I’ll hold.

"Or: Pat accidentally knocks Jonny up. A saga told in a series of voicemails

A Royal Baby - mpreg!Pat

A cough from the doorway cuts Seabs off mid sentence. Duncs is standing watching them, a particularly somber expression on his face. "Jonny, I'm sorry to interrupt but you have a visitor that you'll want to go see right away.""Now really isn't a good time," Jonny tells him, not even putting down his fork."Trust me Your Highness," Duncs says, "This will be worth it."

[Patrick and Jonathan think their time brief time together at the Olympics is all they can ever have. Patrick's ensuing pregnancy proves otherwise.]

sun sweet berries of the earth series by gasmsinc - mpreg!Pat; a/b/o

There is a spirit living in Patrick State Park.“Listen,” says Jonny. “I didn’t mean to step on your crown.”The spirit’s bottom lip wobbles.

Tame the Roads That Can't Be Tamed by Linsky - mpreg!Pat; a/b/o

Patrick’s flown a million times. He’s never gotten airsick before. Even on last year’s epic flight to Denver, when they hit massive turbulence and half the team was groaning over barf bags, Patrick’s stomach was fine. And maybe he’s sick, sure—but why doesn’t he feel sick the rest of the time? Why is it only mornings and—

Oh.

Oh, no.

Oh fucking no.

(Or: In which it is difficult to be a wolf in the NHL, especially when you're not that good at condoms.)

Carve His Name With Pride ⭐  - mpreg!Jonny

Jonny leaves behind a home, a house, and a hockey career the month after he learns that he’s pregnant.

Eyass - mpreg!Jonny

"I dunno," Kaner tells him. "Whatever you need, man. You’re having a baby! That’s a lot of work. I want to be here for you."

Somehow, in the dozens of conversations he’s had with teammates and friends and family in the past few days, no one has said those exact words to Jonny: “you’re having a baby”. He has to comb his fingers through his hair and take a deep, steadying breath to compose himself.

Kaner notices and smiles at him; a crooked, beautiful thing. “It’s pretty amazing, isn’t it?”

Heartburn and Survival by dedougal  - mpreg!Jonny

They were in Canada when Jonny found out he was pregnant. Afterwards, Jonny used that as a point in his bulleted list of arguments about why Jack should represent Canada but, to be entirely truthful, finding out in Canada - finding out anywhere - was pretty disastrous.

Three Cups and a Pup by Miss_Psychotic, nommedeplume  - mpreg!Patrick

The Story of Alpha Jonny and Omega Kaner getting their shit together and learning how to be Adulting Adults (Finally)

Chips and Cribs by whatislife - mpreg!Jonny

“What do you mean there are no chips,” Jonny asks from where he is standing by the island, hand resting on his stomach. “Weren’t they on the list? Did you not buy them?”(Patrick just wants to sleep.)

SPEAKING OF MUSICALS what’re some songs that fit some v3 ships or moments in the game? Atleast In your opinion

Oh boy. Some of these are gonna be dumb and biased as a warning. I don’t know how many will be ships but I definitely have some moments from the game/character thought ones. This is gonna be a long post cause I like throwing in lyrics SORRY! Anon I hope you don’t regret this lmaoThis is getting…. very long so I think I’m gonna put them under the cut! :’DThere’s some Wicked, Chicago, Avenue Q, Scarlet Pimpernel, Hamilton, Into the Woods, RENT, The Greatest Showman, Little Shop of Horrors, The Producers, Come From Away and Dr. Horrible’s Sing-Along BlogThere’s some Oumota, Saimatsu, Saiibo, and loose Saiouma in here, but also a few more general ones!

As most of you know, I have a Oumota Wicked AU, but there’s one song I’d like to point out that’s not for the ship that I quite like for the character in question, and that’s Wonderful, for Tsumugi. This one I found to be a great one for comparing what she does there in that au with some actual stuff in the game.Have some lyrics! I guess I just - wanted to give the citizens of Oz everything.

So you lied to them.

Elphaba, where I’m from, we believe all sorts ofthings that aren’t true. We call it“history.”A man’s called a traitor or liberatorA rich man’s a thief or philanthropistIs one a crusader or ruthless invader?It’s all in which labelIs able to persistThere are precious few at easeWith moral ambiguitiesSo we act as though they don’t exist 

—Another song, this one I discussed in a discord server with some awesome friends so not taking full credit for it, is We Both Reached For the Gun from Chicago for Kokichi and Gonta. The interview plays like the setup trial and while not exact is DEFINITELY an awesome play on the vibe and how it was done. Puppetry and motives running the entire show~! Also has some of the best choreography! And when the reporter starts agreeing that there is Shuichi proving it all.

Then describe it.He came toward me.With the pistol?From my bureau.Did you fight him?Like a tiger.He had strength and she had none.And yet we both reached for the gunOh yes, oh yes, oh yes we bothOh yes we bothOh yes, we both reached forThe gun, the gun, the gun, the gunOh yes, we both reached for the gunFor the gun.

—

The next one might be a weird one, and the dramatic delivery might not suit her as much, but I associate Falcon in the Dive from The Scarlet Pimpernel with Maki in chapter 5. It’s about a manhunt, hunting down an enemy, and how your own morals are already done and it’s up to you. There’s a bit of conflict in it about being bitter about it too and it fits some characterization I wish they had shown there there. It plays in with the memories they barely have as well. Have some lyrics!

There was a dream - a dying ember.There was a dream - I don’t remember …but I will resurrect that dream,though rivers stream and hills grow steeper.For here in hell, where life gets cheaper -oh, here in hell, the blood runs deeper.And when the final duel is near,I’ll lift my spear and fly.Piercing into the sky, and higher!And the strong will thrive!Yes, the weak will cower,while the fittest will survive!If we wait for the darkest hour‘til we spring alive,then with claws of fire,we devour like a falcon in the dive. —In a lighter tone, There is Life Outside Your Apartment from Avenue Q is a Kaito drags sidekicks to training song, I dare you to prove me otherwise.  When I say “everyone”, that includes you!There is life outside your apartmentI know it’s hard to conceive,but there’s life outside your apartment,and you’re only gonna see it if you leave.There is cool shit to do,but it can’t come to you.And who knows, dude,you might even score!There is life outside your apartment,but you’ve got to open the door!No, thanks, I’m staying in.Don’t tell me I gotta force you.Sorry!All right everyone! He’s resisting! —OKAY so if you follow me by now you know I really enjoy Kokichi. When I was looking for songs, @dykeenvy reminded me of this one and it fits Chapter 5 Kokichi so well, so shoutout to them! Last Midnight from Into the Woods for Kokichi. It’s the point where everyone’s arguments and blame (from the song Your Fault! which is ALSO a good V3 song, it’s like… every trial) turns to the witch and she’s done with them and it’s great, specifically this lyrical sequence! You’re so nice You’re not good You’re not bad You’re just nice I’m not good I’m not nice I’m just right I’m the witch You’re the world  I’m a hitch I’m what no one believes I’m the witch You’re all liars and thieves Like his father Like his son will be, too Oh, why bother? You’ll just do what you do

—

OKAY now onto some more dialogue heavy stuff! Non-Stop from Hamilton for Kokichi & Shuichi! Let me explain. Kokichi I find is very like Hamilton, making himself the center of it all, writing, not stopping, going at it all, making enemies but overall doing more and more ambitious. Meanwhile Shuichi is a lot more like Burr, says less, but knows what he’s doing, and bewildered by Hamilton’s methods. Keeps his cards close to his chest until he needs them. Kokichi writing like he’s running out of time is so very very in character. It just fits him SO WELL. It could even represent Kokichi’s attempt to partner with him in chapter 4 and being turned down. Some lyrics! Why do you always say what you believe?Why do you always say what you believe?Ev'ry proclamation guarantees free ammunition for your enemiesWhy do you write like it’sGoing out of style?Write day and night like it’sGoing out of style?Ev'ry day you fight like it’sGoing out of style—On a more somber note, I think The Story of Tonight from Hamilton has great post game VR AU feels for the survivors and maybe Rantaro too in the midst of causing Team Danganronpa some disastrous reactions to their forced ending. I love aus where they are getting legal repercussions and the cast is being held, the dead maybe even still under, until it’s worked out and I think this fits here

I may not live to see our glory! (I may not live to see our glory!)But I will gladly join the fight! (But I will gladly join the fight!)And when our children tell our story… (And when our children tell our story…)They’ll tell the story of tonightLet’s have another round tonight (Let’s have another round tonight)Let’s have another round tonightRaise a glass to freedomSomething they can never take awayNo matter what they tell youRaise a glass to the four of us Tomorrow there’ll be more of usTelling the story of tonightThey’ll tell the story of tonight —

Okay, another shoutout to @dykeenvy and the Yeehonk! server for this one since we chatted about it in there BUT - Take Me or Leave Me from Rent is an Oumota song. The energy, the stances, the stubborness. It is ALL THERE. A tiger in a cageCan never see the sunThis diva needs her stage, babyLets have funYou are the one I chooseFolks will kill to fill your shoesYou love the lime light to now babySo be mine but don’t waste my timeCryin’, “Oh, honey bear are you still my, my, my baby?”Take me for what I amWho I was meant to beAnd if you give a damnTake me baby or leave me —

I’d be remiss to not do another Tsumugi song, given who I am. So I’m bringing up Opening Night from The Producers for Tsumugi. For her ending disaster and the audience complaints during the PTA segment! I just… really like to think it was a all blamed on her sometimes hahah. Sorry mugi.He’s done it againHe’s done it againMax Bialystock has done it againWe can’t believe itYou can’t conceive itHow’d he achieve it?It’s the worst show in town!We sat there sighingGroaning and cryingThere’s no denyingIt’s the worst show in townOh, we wanted to stand up and hissWe’ve seen shit, but never like this

—

Okay for this one just… hear me out. The Other Side from The Greatest Showman for Oumota. A circus ringleader and a respectable patron of the arts walk into a bar, argue about their reputations a bit, make a deal and talk about living a little. Clowns are even mentioned. I mean come on! Don’t you know that I’m okay with this uptown part I get to play‘Cause I got what I need and I don’t want to take the rideI don’t need to see the other sideSo go and do like you doI’m good to do like meAin’t in a cage, so I don’t need to take the keyOh, damn! Can’t you see I’m doing fineI don’t need to see the other side

Now is this really how you like to spend your days?Whiskey and misery, and parties and plays

If I were mixed up with you, I’d be the talk of the townDisgraced and disowned, another one of the clowns

But you would finally live a little, finally laugh a littleJust let me give you the freedom to dream And it’ll wake you up and cure your achingTake your walls and start ‘em breakingNow that’s a deal that seems worth takingBut I guess I’ll leave that up to you —

Kokichi in ships is always a troublesome thing, as he’s got a lot of issues with himself too, so I think Leave from Once is very Kokichi. Oof. Sorry this one is mostly angst fodder. I can’t wait forever is all that you saidBefore you stood upAnd you won’t disappoint meI can do that myselfBut I’m glad that you’ve comeNow if you don’t mindLeave, leave,And free yourself at the same timeLeave, leave,I don’t understand, you’ve already goneAnd I hope you feel betterNow that it’s outWhat took you so longAnd the truth has a habitOf falling out of your mouthBut now that it’s comeIf you don’t mindLeave, leave,And please yourself at the same time

—

Now for something completely different! Meek Shall Inherit from Little Shop of Horrors for Shuichi! Moral dilemmas, biases and making terrible decisions for the sake of people liking him after his ‘success’ starts building. Oof. Sorry Shuichi, I know Seymour’s not the most moral character but the comparison is there a bit. My future’s startingI’ve got to let itStick with that plantAnd gee my bank account will thriveWhat am I saying?No way, forget itIt’s much too dangerous to keep that plant aliveI take these offersThat means more killingWho knew success would come with messy nasty strings?I sign these contractsThat means I’m willingTo keep on doing bloody, awful, evil things

—

Now for a different ship! My Freeze Ray from Dr. Horrible’s Sing Along Blog for Saimtasu. I think it outlines Shuichi’s anxiety when trying to get close to Kaede pretty well, and also how little he knows about her at the start, but is still cute! With my freeze ray I will stop the worldWith my freeze ray I willFind the time to find the words to

Tell you howHow you makeMake me feelWhat’s the phrase?Like a foolKinda sickSpecial needsAnyways —

One more. This ship’s just one of my comfort ones and of course I’m giving it angst. Stop the World from Come From Away for Saiibo. Specifically at the end of trial 6, where they know everything;s coming down, shuichi and the survivors made their choice, and Kiibo’s going to self destruct, and everything;s going to end, but they all get one more goodbye. Agh Kiibo didn’t need to go then and it makes me sad.  Stop the worldSeize the momentBut the minute he goes you’re alone, and it’s through pinch yourselfTell yourself:“You’re just dreaming, that means he’ll forget about you”

But here we areWhere the continents once crashed togetherBefore they went their separate ways forever, so stop the world

—Sorry for rambling so very LONG anon. Hope you enjoy these, maybe you’ll find a new song today :’D

I guess this is more of a “What the fuck” kinda post

I legit do not even know where to start. I have been gone for 3 years now. So have you.

I’m not sure why I have these feelings going on, maybe its the depression. Maybe its my relationship falling apart. Maybe its my dad and family dying/falling apart.

It’s been falling apart for years. You were there for most of it, thanks for that.

I miss you. Guess I’ll start there.

I don’t know why, I mean I’ve always missed you but this is a weird feeling. It’s like I miss the heat, the cold, the mornings and nights. I miss the cigarette smell in the car. I remember when we would have a day off together and we would either sit and just be together while missing out on the world, or we would go out and do something new. I liked the trail walk at your old college the most.

I remember when I met you in Chicago, (close your eyes and try to remember if you forgot), I remember driving my Jeep past the stores here, all the way to the train station. I had your songs on repeat. I had the playlist on repeat. I repeat the day in my head a lot. I don’t think you understand the happiness I felt that day.

I went on the train, and my heart was just screaming, jumping, stopping and going. I couldn’t control anything, especially the nerves. My whole life I was the ugly duck. Weird teeth, bad smile, loner, bad dad, and the one who didn’t have money for nice clothes. (Remembering Sunday just came on). I was nervous because I thought when you’d see me, you’d despise my looks and turn away. I was ready. I wouldn’t miss the train I needed if you turned away. I had a plan. Then I got to the station and I had to pee (sorry about that), I went to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. My god I hated myself, I couldn’t stand how I looked. I almost turned around. I almost left.

But I didn’t.

I couldn’t hurt you like that. We connected right off the bat. We just knew the love existed, maybe in the back of our minds, but it was there.

I remember getting to the bean and hearing you on the phone, waiting to hear you or see you or feel you. I could feel my heart just racing, in felt like a heart attack was moments away. Then the crowd just split.

You’re a horror movie fanatic, I know. But have you ever seen a romance movie when thee two protagonists are looking for each other and all of a sudden, they are right there? Breathing and smiling and stunned. The crowd just slides into two, and they’re facing one another.

The crowd split, and there you were. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think, I couldn’t anything. All I knew is you saw me, and start walking to me. I remember when we touched, the first skin-to-skin, I had felt thousands of fireworks go off and my body felt tingly and warm. I loved you in that instant, because you stayed.

That dick interrupted us though.

But cool band.

Or whatever it was.

I was worried, it was hot. I get red when its hot out, and I don’t know why but it was always something that people picked on. I thought I’d turn red and you’d turn around.

But you didn’t.

You took my hand and brought me to your Jeep, got me your tank, then a disc. I couldn’t breathe, it was the first mix you made me. Thank you, by the way.

We walked around, saw planes, went to the museum. And even though we were sweaty and red, you still called me beautiful. You still stared and grabbed my hand like I was going to be gone in a flash. I felt warm, not from the sun, from you.

We went to Ed Debevic’s, that dude didn’t know how to do his job. But that’s okay, because we didn’t care. I mean we just broke down at a gas station and gave a homeless lady gum that she practically inhaled.

We knew we didn’t have much time left, I thought you’d leave and say goodbye forever.

But you didn’t.

We said, “Fuck it”, and I went home with you. The drive was relaxing. Stressful, but exactly what I needed. I felt all the air, I felt all the love circling around us like coffee aroma in the morning. I remember all we did was sing, smile, hold hands, and just live in the moment. Your smile was contagious, I loved it. You were my home but it was too early to feel it, I wouldn’t and couldn’t tell you.

We got back to your house, and went into your room. I think we showered, I think we had snacks, I think we felt eternal bliss.

I remember laying down with you, and just wanting to hold each other, I thought you’d turn away from my body.

But you didn’t.

Thanks for introducing me to The Office, its my favorite still.

I think it was 3 am when i finally got home. The ride went too quick. I cried, thinking it was over. I smiled because I knew it wasn’t, it was just beginning.

Then it all hit me like the damn train I took to get to you. I was on the edge of a cliff, diving into a new life, full of new adventures, new roads, new people, and new love. I wasn’t ready, but I couldn’t wait. I hit rock bottom when I left my old life behind. I went to WalMart, with pills. You remember. I don’t want to relive it.

Fast forward.

We lived at your moms, I met your family, I met your friends, I met true love.

I always loved you, maybe too much and maybe too little. I put you first, I was too overbearing and I was too distant. I just wanted to be perfect for you. I wanted to stay together forever.

I miss Minecraft, Perkins, smoking, dancing, singing, living, and most especially, i miss laughing. I men the belly laughs where we couldn’t breathe and had tears.

I don’t know where the relationship died, but I wish you would have told me when it died for you. I wish we made it work. I felt it die, I refused to let it die because if I let it die, I might too. That’s how it felt, at least to me. I don’t think you ever gave me a straight answer on why we left each other.

When I felt the relationship die, I lost it. I couldn’t work or eat or sleep or trust or love and I definitely couldn’t let go. I was so mad, sad, furious, confused, broken, and lost. I hate being lost.

I believe everything has two definitions.

Lost- having no idea what the fuck you did but you took the wrong turn, dumbass.

Lost- feeling no emotions, having zero thoughts and having a screaming sensation at the same time.

I wanted to cry and ask for help. I felt lost in a thousand different ways. I needed you.

One night you kissed me and told me you’d be in bed in a little.

You went onto PS4, and I heard it all. All the words, all the lies and heartbreak. I wanted to run as fucking fast as possible. But I was paralyzed.

Skip to the night before you left me forever... I couldn’t sleep. I thought, if I stay up all night, time will go slower and I’ll have more time to be perfect and to fix what I did wrong. I will fix this, I ruined it, I have to fix it. I promised Gage... I promised you’d stay... I promised it would be okay and you’d text your dad to turn around and that you changed your mind. That you were gonna stay with me. You promised, no matter what, Bonnie and Clyde til the end... You were gonna stay....

But you didn’t...

The last day you left...

That last fucking day..

That last day.

Your dad.

That day, sucked.

We cried. I wanted to lock the doors and hide. I wanted to run away. I wanted to show you how sorry I was for not being perfect and pretty. I hated you so much. I wanted to scream and fight. I wanted to break down to dust, and blow away.

Then we hugged.. I’m typing with tears in my eyes.

We hugged. I couldn’t breathe. Chicago. Chicago.

Chicago, when I opened my eyes we would be in Chicago and it was the first time. It was a nightmare and we were back in Chicago..

We went in our apartment. I guess mine. I don’t know.

The door shut, and I lost it. I begged God (who I don’t believe in, but dammit I needed Him in that moment), I begged Him to stop you. I begged him I could and would be better. I couldn’t even walk to the windows. You know, the windows when I’d blow a kiss and a wave goodbye when you went to work. I stood there, tears streaming. I couldn’t grasp it. My heart went into the red truck. You looked back, and I wish you didn’t. I wish you turned around and ran to me and say you’re sorry and that you cant go. That you’d be here and it’d be okay.

It wasn’t.

My safe haven went inside a red truck and left. It went to Kentucky, far away.

I remember I crashed to the floor, screaming in pain, bawling, torn, begging for help, I couldn’t breathe. The louder I screamed, the further you went.

I was there forever. I didn’t bother calling work. I didn’t eat. I didn’t shower. I didn’t do anything but take Jasper outside, sleep, cry and beg someone to bring you home.

That’s when Tyler came along. I didn’t even think of him as your friend. He came and held me while I cried, he brought me food and forced me to eat, he got dog food when I ran low, he was there. I slept with the door locked, blinds closed, on a mattress on the ground. He slept on the couch and I laid on the mattress. I couldn’t sleep. I hated everyone. I almost lost my job. I almost just walked away from it all. Tyler tried to help me. I have to give him credit. I was doing drugs with people I didn’t know, I was at a new job where I helped sell from the back, I wasn’t me. I was gone. I was a different Brooke, a broken one.

I honestly thought if I was with Tyler, you’d come home. I hated him. I didn’t like being around him or sleeping by him or anything. He played games I didn’t like, he wasn’t you.

Obviously it has been years. I moved home and I was gone. Hooking up, doing so much drugs, drinking and barely eating. I lost so much weight. I tried to replace you with Preston. He made me do more drugs. I hated it.

I would go to bars and restaurants and hope if I turned around, you’d be there. You’d be at the bar, just standing there smiling. I don’t know why. I guess I just wanted to really get a chance to say goodbye. I honestly wish that you’d just show up. I just wanted to be cared for again like the way you cared for me before. You were the only one to ever show that to me. I just miss someone caring about me. I wait for the day where I won’t be sad anymore. I think I just loved you so much and I didn’t get my chance to say goodbye.

I hated you for so long. I hated everything about you, Indiana, Chicago, music.. All of it. It was just terrible for me to relive.

Am I being dramatic? Probably.

Am I being annoying? Of course.

Am I too much? You bet.

Did I love too hard? Always.

Because I wanted others to never felt what I was all too familiar with since childhood.

I am sorry for whatever I did to you, to us, to our lives.

You never told me why you left, it was a vague answer. Was it guilt? Fear? No love? Whaat was it?

I’m not mad anymore. I just miss you.

I fell hard for you, I fell hard and quick. I fell in love quick, and really showed it for a while.

I am sorry if this is a bit much, trust me, I could say more, but I’ll stop. You might not ever read this. That’s okay. I still love you. I’m not sure I can stop loving you. I hate that I love you. You don’t love me, so why do I love you?

I wish you stayed. I wonder what we could’ve been.

Anyways...

Love, Roo.

Being Pissed Off: With Becca!!!

So. Boyfriend and I probably broke up over the weekend. I say probably because I am the single most extra person on the face of the earth when it comes to fighting for what I want and love and believe in, and maaaaaaaaay have [read: definitely did] sent him a text [read: novel length text block] on Monday detailing why I should have fought harder during him saying he was in a mental state of being ready to break up due to mental stress from his new job, and also why breaking up was a bullshit decision. Among other things I said. (Seriously, this thing was technically 30 text messages long. Even I thought it was a bit much when I sent it, and I’m the queen of the text message novel. I can’t summarize its thesis that concisely) And ever since I started drafting my magna carta on why we were both full of shit when we [read: he] decided to break up, I’ve been getting increasingly pissed off, and feel like sharing.

So, if you have any care as to my thoughts on the whole thing, and the interwoven relation between romance and mental illness, keep reading I guess. WARNING. THIS IS GONNA BE A LONG ONE, EVEN BY MY STANDARDS, but worth it, I hope.

Before we get into the opinions bit, I feel like I should give you guys (the whole ass internet) a bit [read: a lot] of background.

So. Boyfriend [hereafter reffered to as Boy] and I have been dating since mid January, and have been ‘long distance’ [about 60 miles, or an hour and a half drive] since May [it’s early September now]. I’ve always been reticent to call that a true long distance relationship, because if transportation, scheduling, and housing situations were just sliiiiiiiiiightly different, we would probably see each other minimum once a week, because an hour and a half just isn’t that often realistically. But, I work second shift [4 PM to 2 AM, Wed-Sat], and Boy, who was a local college student from the time we met up until his graduation in May, has always been on the path to a normal 9-5 job. Additionally, post graduation, Boy has gone on 3 vacations. One that lasted ~2 weeks, one that lasted ~1 month, and one that was 1 week long. Between packing, recovering, job hunting, and catching up with people locally, these trips took up about 85% of his summer months. Which meant that between when he left in May and our “breakup” this past weekend [9/7], we saw each other a grand total of 3 times. For a grand total of probably 3-4 days cumulatively. Total. The whole summer.

Which is perfectly normal within a long distance relationship. But, we are not perfectly normal people, and this relationship has always been rather unique. First of all, I have pretty bad anxiety and abandonment issues, stemming from childhood issues, blah blah blah. I’m also prone to depressive episodes, but that isn’t relevant til later. Boy, in my totally unprofessional opinion, also has issues with anxiety and abandonment, and also a healthy dose of standard issue male commitment-phobia. (Or, maybe that’s not standard issue, and I just have a type. Either way.) Pile on top of that the fact that I’ve been not only his first REAL relationship (He has told me that while he’d had long relationships in the past, they were all on again/off again, and not that serious emotionally, and that he felt like I was the first person he ever had a deep emotional connection with. Which, yikes, I don’t have time to unpack all that, but I have chosen to not dig too deep into that well yet. Maybe later in this post I will.), and that this has been the longest relationship either of us has been in (Again, he’s been on/off for longer, but cumulative time. And I tend to evaluate at 6 months and break things off then), and we were a recipe for a unique situation. Yes, we trust each other, that’s never been the issue, but I think we’ve both had this idea that the other has one foot out the door of the relationship, just due to distance and scheduling. Especially because we both come from broken homes, we tend to have a lot of issues revolving around commitment, and the flaws therein, and tend to feel anxiety surrounding it.

We also moved very fast in the beginning. I’m talking we had our first date, then spent 11 out of the next 14 days together. The connection was just that easy, instant, and deep. I started staying at his place regularly about a month into our relationship. I’ve met most of his best friends, he’s met my family at length, and I’ve met both his parents briefly. We were in the process of nailing down plans for his parents and I to have dinner together. I’m sure I could come up with other ways that we jumped into things because of our feelings, but just know that had I been in my own apartment I think we’d still be playing house to this day and things would be fine. But circumstances suck, and so do I, so here we are.

I’ve also been dealing with some worker’s comp things at my job. I’ve consistently been the one in our relationship who has pointed out when his anxieties about our relationship are getting out of hand, and who has actively made plans to make things better, and to talk on the phone about us, and about his issues, and made our meetings happen. Normally, I would see this as a failure of my partner, because it goes both ways (and believe me, I would appreciate it greatly if he would be a more active participant in making plans), but I do it because his anxieties have a tendency to paralyze him, and make him think the world is going to end, and there’s no point in even trying, and I don’t hold this against him at all. And once he enters that spiral, I’ve always plucked his ass right out of it, or at least sat with him to prove that I’m not going anywhere. Granted, that got exponentially harder when I couldn’t actually physically sit with him. But still. Back to worker’s comp, the structure of how all of that works combined with the immense pain I’ve consistently been in has made me sort of lose my edges a bit. I’m more malleable, more prone to just go along with things. Less likely, and less able to be the one with a backbone about staying together even though it’s hard (and oh boy is it hard).

I should also mention that Boy only just recently started his job, which, according to him, is when the brunt of the anxieties that caused him to be in this mindset started. He now works Monday thru Friday, Usually from 8-5 (with a 1 hour lunch break in there), and that means he’s up from ~6 AM-10 PM. I, again, work Wednesday thru Saturday, 4 PM-2 AM, which puts my schedule to being up from ~1 PM-4 AM. Technically speaking, we don’t have time Wed-Fri that we can talk to each other, because of work, but I’m a terrible employee [read: fighter of capitalism] and text him on the clock. Additionally, Saturday is the only day we can really talk at length on the phone, and Sunday is the only day we can visit one another. An activity that is made harder by the fact that we are both living with our parents right now. So, if we want to spend ~quality alone time~ together, we have to get a hotel, which we can only really afford out where I live, which is less fun because there’s less to do outside of the hotel. He’s also been exposed, with this job, to a bunch of young twenty and thirty-somethings who are out living their best single bachelor life. Well, I can only assume that, because that’s what he cited when we broke up. But, if I had to guess, there are also a fair amount in relationships. Because statistics.

Boy also has this idea that he needs to be a fully fledged adult with like a mortgage and a cemented career before he can be allowed to settle down. I think this stems from his need to experience things combined with the common media portrayal of men being chronically debaucherous well into their early 30′s when they have a mortgage and are established. So, being apart so much has created this storm of him being insecure about himself and us, and me just going along with things and not planning us meeting. At all. Now, he’d been handling this pretty well up until recently, but, a couple weeks ago, coinciding with Boy’s new job, I started to notice a change in him. He started to get distant, not tell me things, not talk to me as much, and just get really weird, especially when I would talk about the future. Specifically my/our future.

You see, Boy wants to move to Chicago [the nearest city to us] (that’s a whole separate thing, but we’ll keep it at that). So do I. Have since forever. I also have been wanting to get a new job since the injury that caused my worker’s comp. The only reason I’m staying through worker’s comp (or at least until they send me onto a leave of absence) is it’s easier that way and I make good money at this warehouse. So, it’s better for me to make good money there and just keep saving until I absolutely have to get a new job, either because my case closes or they put me on LOA. Every time I would mention my job hunt, Boy would ask me where. I’d tell him I was looking near where I already live, as the cost of living is lower, and I can’t afford to move out on my own in Chicago. His face would fall a little, and I thought that was weird. It’s not like he had asked me to move in with him in Chicago, or offered to help me find roommates in Chicago. So why was he getting all like that? So, like a dumbass, I asked. I guess you could say I caused this whole thing by opening my own stupid mouth.

I texted Boy, to ask why he had gotten like that recently. We texted briefly about it, and he sounded like he wanted to break up. Not like imminently. It wasn’t an explicit break up text. But it had that vibe. And we agreed that we shouldn’t be texting about serious matters, nor should we be talking while I was at work. So, we scheduled to call on Saturday [9/7], to talk about things, and discuss them. We were also supposed to make plans to see each other on Sunday. Silly me to think it was going to be a discussion, or that we would actually be meeting on Sunday. (I’m going to try to keep the saltiness out of this because I was just as at fault for the lack of discussion, but please permit me that sentece, as I am still quite salty.)

I wrote up action plans, flush with ideas on how to make things better between us. He’d expressed a loneliness, and I recognized my hand in making him feel that way. I came up with things we could do in various places, both here, there, and everywhere in between. I don’t have a car, so I usually take the train, and I had museum free days planned, I had plans for hotels, and schedules for video chats, hell I had drafted texts to my friends to do a raunchy photo shoot (not nude, but risque, as it was something he expressed interest in before). I had plans to at least try. I wasn’t (and still am not) ready to just give up. I had started to grow back a backbone.

But then. He called. He had made up his mind before he even called me as to what he was ready to do. He opened the conversation with “So, how do you feel about taking a break?” (Answer: I think it’s a pussy way to break up, and I told him that verbatim.)

And I folded, like a deck of cards. Every bit of tenacity I’d built up in the days prior faded instantly, and I felt helpless. I didn’t want to force him into anything, and I forgot that a relationship is an open dialogue, not a one sided thing. I didn’t fight for him, and looking back I think he wanted me to. He wanted me to pull off that which I normally do: reminding him that we are fucking worth the hassle. He said that things were hard, and (and this wording is important) “[he wasn’t] able to see the light at the end of the tunnel.” That’s the wording he used time and again. Not that there wasn’t a light. Not that he didn’t think it was there. Just that he couldn’t see it.

And here starts the opinions, mixed with more explanation because I don’t know when to stop ranting.

I didn’t take note of that wording during the argument, because I immediately got lost in a storm of “wow, we fucked up royally and now we’re gonna lose someone again because there ain’t shit we can do to stop him from leaving because everyone leaves”. And yes, the run on sentence was intended. But either way, that wording, upon even minor reflection, has stuck with me. Because that wording is a cry for help. I know him, and his neuroses, and that wording, which he repeated, without change, was his way of begging me to help him see the light. He couldn’t have gotten more obvious without literally begging me. And I feel guilty for not seeing it, because I should have. He told me, almost verbatim, that he didn’t want to break up. He also said that he wants to, I don’t remember the exact wording but it was similar to try again just with different connotations, sometime in the future when things would be easier. And I accepted that. I’m not going to keep restating my guilt about letting myself be walked all over when I knew how important standing up for us was within the context of Boy’s anxieties, so just assume that whenever I accept things blindly that there’s an unhealthy dose of guilt there.

I just let it happen, and assumed that there was nothing I could say so I shouldn’t waste my breath. And I cried like a common 1950′s Disney princess  for about 24-36 hours. (No shade, I love those girls. They’re just like way dramatic and usually cry about things instead of fixing them, and that’s not normally my style.)

Which isn’t to say that I don’t hold Boy at fault. I do. He also gave into his brain goblins. He knows I’m in a rough spot, and he couldn’t manage a couple of weeks of being a rock while I get back to my old self. And, while I understand how it happened, and I can’t get too pissed, that doesn’t mean I’m happy about it. He also has neglected to tell me how he’s feeling for about a month, which led to the deterioration of our relationship to the point it got. There’s more, but I don’t want this to turn into a pissed-off-at-Boy thing. Long story short: we were both full of absolute shit on Saturday, but I could only really cry about my hand in it. And OH BOY did I cry.

But then I had a come-to-jesus moment, so to speak, and here come the real opinions.

What I realized was that our ‘breakup’, while perfectly reasonable to some, was utter bullshit to me. Yes, I had every right and expectation to just accept the wishes of my SO, but I never once thought to open a dialogue about it, which is also within my rights. I’m not saying fight, I’m not saying coerce, I’m just saying talk. If he was having problems with how we were, I had every right to ask what they were, and see if I had any means of making them better. It’s what actually should have been expected, if we’re being honest. Because “Hey, things are hard, let’s break up.” is *NOT* how you end a 9 month long relationship. You talk about why things are hard. You decide whether the good outweighs the bad currently, and whether you feel you can reasonably proceed. This is, of course, assuming this is a friendlier breakup. Cheating SO’s need not compare themselves to this framework. Although.... I guess you could in a way.... NO. I don’t have time for that. Anyway.

But I didn’t open a dialogue. I let my brain goblins (long story) control my actions every bit as much as he did. And, as the more emotionally aware part of our duo, I’m ashamed because I know better. Not only is in not healthy, but that doesn’t align with who I am as a person. As I like to say, I am not the girl who just sits idly by and lets the world happen to her. I am not the girl who lets people walk all over her, and people make decisions for her. I am the pure BITCH who stands up for what she believes in. I am the one who fights til she is bruised, bloody, and broken for what and who she loves. I go to war to keep what I have earned, and who I want in my life. And I failed Boy in not being that person. And now I can’t force a dialogue open. I lost my chance, maybe forever.

It might not help that I sent a novel length text to him, offering him a week long grace period where we could pick things back up, no harm no foul. He might not appreciate it, I don’t know because he hasn’t responded yet. But I don’t care either way. First off, he would always tell me how much he loves my bluntness. How I call people out on their shit, how I speak my mind, how I always tell the complete, often ugly, truth. And I guess that message will test that love. Because I don’t think that my bluntness has ever been so pointedly focused on him. Not in this way, at this length, at least. And what can I say, if the message turned an open door with no one in front of it into a closed, deadbolted door, then it wasn’t a door I wanted open anyway. Because I need someone who not just wants but needs my fiery passion and tendency for the dramatic and lengthy exchange of dialogue. Second, it was the only thing that was ever going to open a dialogue back up, so I don’t regret it one bit.

As for the relation of romantic relationships and mental illness (which I know I promised), I’ll start with this. Brain goblins happen to everyone, mentally ill or healthy. They’re gonna happen when you’re in a relationship at some point. You’re going to be in the middle of a shitstorm and look at your partner and a brain goblin is gonna whisper in your subconscious Hey, just dumping them would be easier. Or maybe they’re going to tell you that you might as well jump ship before you get left. Or maybe they’re going to tell you that the cons of the situation you’re in aren’t outweighed by the positive things that the person brings to your life. But giving in to those thoughts isn’t the way to go. You deserve love, even if you are mentally ill. You deserve to look at something and say, Hey, yeah, things suck right now, and maybe I don’t deserve this person, maybe they don’t deserve me right now. But I love them, and WE deserve to give our love another chance. 

Which isn’t to say that doing that is always the reasonable or possible choice when you’re mentally ill. Brain goblins are bound to get ahold of the control panel sometimes. Sometimes it might even be what you think you want, or what you think is best. And that has a tendency to make things reeeeaaaaally hard in a romantic relationship. Because they’re full of ups and downs, and they’re like a combo between the world’s most complex escape room (bad analogy on the surface but just wait) and a roller coaster. There are crazy ups and downs, and you are constantly having to make choices and hope that they’re the right ones and that they’re positive and healthy. And that can get overwhelming, and can make you susceptible to brain goblin takeovers, especially when your relationship is in a rough space. And brain goblins, while usually well intentioned, are often simple creatures who think more in terms of trauma and fight-or-flight than long term planning. They’re not that good at thinking in terms of “This is hard right now, but it will get better”, they think more in terms of “This is hard. This is like that one time we got really badly hurt. Let’s run away before we can get hurt again”. Actually, that’s much better grammar than brain goblins usually use. Let me know if you want a whole post about brain goblins and how I use them within the spectrum of my mental illness. I might write one anyway for shits and giggles, but I’d love to know if someone else wanted to hear about it.

I guess what I’m taking a really long time to say is this: No matter how hard it is, don’t lose yourself, because you never know how important that moment is going to be. Mental illness is a tough thing, and it’s complex and hard. But there’s still a whole you in there. And you deserve the happiness that a relationship can bring, if you choose to be in one. And it really sucks to let mental illness overtake and ruin that. But yeah, I suck at talking about overarching, general mental illness. So I don’t want to go on too much because each case is different.

So yeah. There’s my rant. Sorry it’s so long, but I had a lot to get off my chest.

lake effect kid EP

(or: “chicago” is a funny way to pronounce “patrick”: the album)

first of all, i would like to thank fall out boy for the best gift ever: three love songs to my hometown released on my birthday. three love songs with peterick overtones. I listened to this album four times through on my run this morning and loosed a single giant, ugly sob out in public to the morning air. (there was also a LOT of fist pumping and slamming my foot into the pavement on the downbeats, but let’s not make a full catalogue of everything embarrassing about me this morning, thanks)

let’s dive in, cuz i’ve got FEELINGS

(and what is the lake effect but excess, but overstated, amped-up reactions to changes in the seasons, the weather, the heart??? HOO BOY LET’S GO)

1. lake effect kid

the year: 2008. the song: a hopeful starry-eyed rising-fame chicago kid anthem, starting with a verse about how touring and the band’s success is literally heaven, and the nostalgic annoyance of van days, joe’s old van that only ran with the heat blasting. the prechorus places us squarely in 08 with pete’s LA isolation and growing pharmaceutical dependence ((boxed blondes have less fun breaks my heart for every reason. pete writes SO MANY lyrics about blonde & fake vs. golden & true, and someday i will write a post about it))

the chorus—boomerang my head into the city i grew up in / again and again, forever a lake effect kid—speaks to how, no matter how far they travel and where fame takes them, chicago is always home. the skyline runs in their veins like blood. summer love on a gurney with a squeaky wheel is hospital-room desperation, a sweaty boys-in-vans affair that, from this angle, seems doomed from the start… because remember 2008 is when the petericks and the band are falling apart.

(that they re-recorded it now, in the modern era? tells us that what he felt, he still feels. that these sentiments are always and have always been true.)

and this is my thesis, honestly, of the ep. these are love songs about chicago, yes. about themselves and the band and their history. but they are also love songs about the person who is chicago to pete. they are love songs to patrick.

love songs to the person pete will come back to, again and again and again and again and again.

2. city in a garden

this fucking track. We’ve got a peculiar Infinity/SRAR blend, sonically, where it opens with sounds of IOH and rises to an anthemic SRAR feel by mid-song. it’s the happiest, most optimistic song on an EP that is all about home, belonging, and true love, and in it pete writes I LOVE YOU CHICAGO because that’s easier and safer and more allowed than saying the thing he also means, I LOVE YOU PATRICK STUMP. this is a dual-layer song, with a hometown reading and a truelove reading, and i think both are valid and intended.

right away, it opens with the plea of a boy who moved to LA and can’t stop looking back: take me home, take me home. You make me feel so summer fling adds to a long and lustrous history of describing patrick and their tryst in terms of summer, especially in the context of summer tour: summer is a season outside of time, where there are no consequences and anything is possible. summer isn’t real life. summer is you but better than real, blood more vibrant, ribcage more cavernous, heartbeat more vital and raw. You know that i know that i owe you everything feels like love to the chicago music scene as well as something that pete and patrick might both say, and mean, to each other. without patrick’s voice, FOB as we know it wouldn’t exist. that nightmare-magic truest kind of love wouldn’t exist.

the rush of having no tomorrow, love that was doomed from the start, outrunning your doom… and patrick being the one thing pete’s found that’s worth holding onto…

this bit is so incredibly pete, and the heavy punch on stuck reminds me powerfully of novocaine, a song originally demoed for SRAR: you charged me up, charged, charged me up. I was something they forgot to label “fragile”, now I’m stuck. And you know too much. You’re the one true thing, you’re the one.

that is not a verse about a place. that is a verse about a person. In novocaine, stuck/numb means hopeless in love and unable to get out, even if you want to. this verse is about falling in love so hard you break yourself and can never reassemble. can never be the same. it’s about patrick being the type of love that you don’t believe exists until you have it--the ‘there are no atheists in foxholes’ kind of love.

we get the homesickness, these two boys who bleed chicago but now live in LA, these boys who spend so much time on the road that they don’t even recognize home when they’re there, in the next verse: and i’m just living out a suitcase. watch me now, watch me as i drive away. I’m supposed to leave you at the end of the season but i’ll stay. two layers to this: the feeling of leaving your hometown at the end of the holidays or summer vacation, and the feeling of leaving patrick at the end of a tour cycle. and saying to both the person and the place: i’ll stay. in my heart, in my soul, i will stay. you’re the one true thing, you’re the one.

3. super fade

this motherfucking solo patrick / MANIA blend with the sunshine riptide-esque lyrics and the hiatus feels, this fucking soul punk/batman theme outtake, this fucking song about loving someone so much it makes you sick and you’re furious, this song about who gets your bones vs your soul, who you sleep beside vs who is your ultra and forever love—

THIS FUCKING SONG

I love every fucking line of this song.

it doesn’t sound like classic FOB the way the first two tracks do. this is something else, the way Y&M was something else. this is classic FOB feelings and sentiments turned on their heads and made into nightmares. this is about the dark side back end of love, the wrong side of reality. this is about fucking up and scraping raw and emptying out and loving, loving, loving so stupid it’ll kill you. it sounds like the hiatus. it sounds like always making the same mistakes.

it sounds like always making them with the same person.

it’ll never happen again til tonight, i’m so sorry. My love isn’t lost, it’s all i got. pours out of me, the shape of you. sorry.

IF THIS ISN’T ABOUT TRYSTING AND ADDICTION AND DEPENDENCE AND THE WHOLE PETERICK CYCLE, then nothing is. this feels like a song about a time when they’re supposed to be broken up but their bodies keep coming together anyway, even when they hate themselves, especially when they hate themselves. my love isn’t lost, it’s all i got.

((can we talk about the romantic / filthy line there’s a hole inside me the shape of you?? because UM))

i feel too much unless i’m riding the super fade is so pete, so MANIA, so bipolar, so folie, so getting fucked up to get out, so in love with your best friend even when you’re trying not to be, so self-medicating to the point of obliteration just to cope with your life.

I should’ve known better. I should’ve tried to sing about anything but you. I should’ve tried to go to sleep thinking about anything but you. Anything else in the world but you. you know the world can get my bones, but chicago gets my soul.

h o l y f u c k i n g s h i t

okay so. I’m sorry every song’s about you, but. this is about loving patrick, right? It’s about chicago-as-a-metaphor-for-patrick getting his soul. it’s about the futility of trying to get over the only thing that’s ever really completed him. It’s about tearing my fucking heart out.

the second verse is very much hiatus to me, about trying to fill that hole left by a love-that-isn’t-lost but is out of reach, with anything, anything. I’m surfing on the dopamine high, i’m someone you gotta institutionalize is peak pete, esp hiatus pete. And the echo chorus of sorry, i’m so sorry? jeezus fucking christ, just kill me, just absolutely kill me.

patrick gets my soul. the world can have my body and bones, but you get my soul.

IN CONCLUSION, this is a gay and glorious EP on a gay and glorious day, happy birthday to me, thank you for coming to my tryst theory TED talk. more meta soon, and hit up my ask box in the meantime!

One

     When the trio rumbled up to the Last Chance Garage, they were greeted with the sight of Charley setting a box on the curb, just beside a pile of other boxes. "Hey, Sweetheart! Didja miss me?" Vinnie called with a cheeky grin.

     Charley snorted. "Oh, sure. It's been a whole twelve hours since I saw you. I've been pining away for your obnoxious self ever since," she retorted, brushing off her hands.

     "Ouch, babe. That cuts deep." Vinnie dramatically pressed a hand to his heart, shaking his head sadly. Charley's lips twitched as she rolled her eyes and turned to stalk back into the garage.

     "Doin' a little housekeeping, Charley-girl?" Throttle dubiously eyed the teetering stack of boxes over his field specs.

     "As a matter of fact, I'm cleaning out all the junk stored in the spare room. You guys are just in time to help," she replied sweetly.

     Vinnie didn't even try to hide his dismayed groan, and was rewarded with a smack across the back of his head, courtesy of Modo's metal hand. He yelped and glared, rubbing his skull as he followed the big gray mouse into the garage and up to Charley's apartment.

     "We'll be glad to help, Charley Ma'am," Modo rumbled. "But why the sudden clear-out?"

     "I'm expecting company." Charley riffled through a shoebox, wrote something on the lid with a black Sharpie, and stacked it in a corner with a few other boxes. "She'll need a place to crash, and this is the only spare room I've got."

     The mice glanced at each other. "This the part where you tell us to get lost for awhile until the coast is clear?" Throttle asked.

     Charley glanced at him, surprised. "Of course not! This place is practically your home, too. I wouldn't kick you out just like that," she scolded. "Besides, she'll be staying for awhile."

     "So … you'll be telling your friend about us?" The trio glanced at each other. They weren't entirely keen on the idea of yet another human knowing of their existence. Too many knew of them already in that particular area of Chicago, no thanks to Limburger. The people they'd saved kept their mouths shut about hairy alien riders protecting the slum streets of the city, and they'd managed to remain fairly inconspicuous so far, but their luck wouldn't hold out forever.

     "Relax, fellas." Charley rested her crossed arms on the pile of larger boxes stacked on the floor, regarding them with a whimsical smile. "No need to get your tails in a knot. Alley's my cousin. She's moving out here from Florida to attend college. I offered her a place to stay to help save on living costs. Why pay even more money for boarding when I've got a perfectly good room going to waste?"

     The trio relaxed. Any family member of Charley's automatically made her an extended member of their own. "You think she'll like us?" Vinnie asked, always anxious to make a good impression. Or any impression, really, good or otherwise.

     Charley pursed her lips in thought. "Well, I'll definitely have to warn her about you three before you actually meet each other," she replied slowly. "Honestly, I have no idea how she'll react. I haven't actually seen her face-to-face for almost ten years."

     "Why so long?" Modo looked troubled; probably thinking of his own family, whom he hadn't seen in a long while, either. "Don't seem right, not seein' your family for so long."

     Especially since you're all on the same planet was left unspoken, but Charley understood, and she offered him a sympathetic smile. "Can't be helped. I moved out here to Chi-town, and not too long after that, her parents relocated to Florida so her dad could start his own garage. Our dads are brothers, and they shared the family business, but…" She trailed off, looking uncomfortable.

     "Something happened?" Throttle asked gently. Charley didn't often talk about her family, and they never pressed the issue, although they were curious about what her life had been like before Chicago. They knew bits and pieces, minor things she'd shared over the years, but they understood all too well that some things just couldn't be spoken of. They all had skeletons in their closets, as the human saying went.

     Charley ran a hand through her mussed hair. "They had … differences of opinion on how the place should be run," she replied slowly.

     "Ah. A family falling-out?"

     She sighed. "Something like that. My dad and uncle … they're both pretty strong-willed. And they both had their own ideas on how to make the garage successful. It … got pretty nasty toward the end, before they decided it was best to just sort of go their own ways. Alley's mom got sick, not too long after that. A pretty strong infection in the lungs, I think. The doctors recommended she be moved to warmer climates, so in order to save the family, and Aunt Viv, they decided it was best to move south. Uncle Chuck found a garage that was in danger of going under, bought it out, and completely turned it around. It's a pretty successful bodywork and detailing shop now. I think some of the cars he repainted even appeared in magazines. He specializes in the antiques and classics."

     "What about your aunt?" Vinnie asked. "She get any better?"

     Charley smiled. "Yeah, the infection cleared up within a few months. Last I heard, she's co-manager of a popular cafe. Let me tell you, the woman can bake. Her cakes and pastries are to die for." She sighed wistfully. "I haven't had one of her homemade whoopie pies in … forever."

     "And the brothers?" Modo asked quietly. "They still on the outs?"

     "No." She flashed him a small grin. "Since they don't actually have to work together or see each other every day, they get along pretty well. They take turns visiting over holidays, but they're all so busy, it doesn't happen a lot. Oh, my mom said they were kinda stubborn, giving each other the silent treatment and all that. Neither one of 'em wanted to apologize first, but Mom and Viv can be pretty persuasive when their men are bein' stupid." She chuckled. "The family is fine now. Don't worry, fellas."

     "So how come you don't go see 'em?" Vinnie asked. "You haven't left this city since we've known you!"

     "Oh, I haven't left it way before that," she snorted. "In case you lunkheads haven't noticed, I've pretty much got my hands full, runnin' the Last Chance. Throw in everything that's been happening with Limburger, and, well…" She shrugged. "It ain't like I never talk to them or anything! There's email, and we call each other on occasion. Alley writes me actual letters, too. Says traditional letter writing is becoming a lost art form. Sometimes I even write back, though I'm not quite as eloquent about it." She chuckled. "Anyway, when she told me she'd decided to attend college in Chicago, and asked if she could stop to visit, I offered her the guest room to live in, and here we are."

     "So when's she arrivin'?" Modo asked.

     "She's on her way as we speak, actually. But she's driving cross-country, so it'll take her a few days to get to Illinois. She thinks she'll be here by Saturday. So do me a favor and hide out at the scoreboard over the weekend, 'til I get her settled in and have a chance to talk to her."

     "Will do, Charley-girl."

     "Thanks, guys." Charley hefted a box and plopped it into Vinnie's arms. "In the meantime, there's plenty of stuff to shift around. How about you three work on clearing out this room? I've already marked where everything needs to go, either the hall closet or the curb for trash pickup."

     "And what will you be doing while we're up here doing the manual labor?" Vinnie grumbled as Charley descended staircase into the garage.

     "What else? Earning a living by fixing busted engines! This place doesn't run itself, ya know!"

     ~*~*~*~*~

     Saturday rolled around, and Charley spent most of it working on a sleek black Mustang that had met the wrong end of a truck, due to the careless driving of the Mustang's owner, who had miraculously walked away mostly unscathed. The car hadn't been so lucky.

     She'd already managed to put the mangled insides of the Mustang back together, which had felt more like assembling a jigsaw puzzle than a car. It had taken her nearly two weeks to finish, but finally she was done. When she turned the ignition key, she couldn't hold back the triumphant whoop when the engine turned over and started purring like a contented cat. She might complain about her job, but nothing beat the heady rush of pride and satisfaction she always felt over a job spectacularly done.

     Well, for the most part. The engine was finished, but now she needed to put the mangled body back together and then have it towed to a detail shop across town for a new paint job. She'd have to enlist the guys' help for the heavy lifting, but at least all the parts she'd ordered had come in. Their boxes were currently piled carefully against the wall, waiting to be unpacked. She'd start on that tomorrow.

     The purr of an approaching engine caught her attention. Well, it wasn't a purr so much as a sick-sounding rumble. Somebody seemed to be having car trouble. She glanced at the clock on the wall over the service desk. It was nine forty-five, long past closing-time. And long past due for her cousin to show up. She frowned and rose from her seat, stretching the kinks out of her back as she walked to the door. Then she stood and stared with her mouth slightly agape as a huge green, pink, and yellow flowered … monstrosity of a classic Volkswagen Bus pulled up, coughing and grinding to a halt. There was a sputter, as of the beast giving up its last, wheezing breath; a hiss of smoke and steam rose from its backside, and then the front door opened and a young woman climbed awkwardly out of the driver's seat, hopping to the ground with a triumphant "Made it!"

     Charley blinked in astonishment at the blond-haired woman, who was nearly as colorful as her ride with her mid-length hair liberally streaked in rainbow hues, and a flowing white peasant top and stonewashed jeans embroidered with flowers and butterflies. "A-Alley Cat?" she stammered.

     The girl grinned. "Well, look at you! Aren't you the regular grease monkey," she teased, eyeballing Charley's filthy coveralls.

     Charley relaxed and grinned back. "I almost didn't recognize you for a moment. Boy, you sure grew up, huh?" Alley stood almost as tall as she did, and in no way resembled the little grass-stained tomboy who had followed her everywhere and constantly tackled her into wrestling matches when they were growing up.

     "You sure you didn't just shrink?" Alley shot back, and Charley snorted a laugh and rolled her eyes. "I see your smart mouth didn't change, though."

     "Never! It's my most attractive feature."

     "C'mere, you." Before Alley could protest, Charley pulled her into a brief hug, careful not to get grease on the younger woman's clothes. "It's so good to see you! How're things in Florida? How're Chuck and Viv doing?"

     "Florida is … Florida. Hot. Sticky. Lots of old people driving around who really shouldn't be allowed to. My parents are great, though. Dad's shop is as popular as ever. You know, he refinished a Rolls Royce for some celebrity or something, and got invited to this swanky party as a thank you. He took Mom with him. They were rubbing elbows with all these movies stars and such. Mom loved it. She can't stop bragging about how she got to meet Johnny Depp," Alley laughed. "Dad's pretty pleased with himself. Mom hasn't nagged him for anything for the past two weeks!" She poked Charley in the arm. "Anyway, what about you? Ya never call, ya never write. Glad I didn't show up to find your decomposing body being eaten by wild dogs or something."

     "Yeah, yeah. I told you, it's been sorta crazy around here for the last few years." Charley chuckled nervously, scratching her arm and wondering when would actually be a good time to tell her cousin about the consistent alien invasion happening right under the government's nose, not to mention her alien house guests. She decided to change the topic for the moment, turning to the smoking bus. "So. From what hellhole did you manage to dig this thing up? You didn't pay actual money for it, did you?"

     "Shhhh! She'll hear you!" Alley lovingly stroked a stylized flower on the bus's door. "Priscilla is very sensitive, you know."

     "Priscilla?" Charley couldn't keep the bark of laughter down.

     "What? It's not like you've never named any of your cars."

     "Well, yeah … but Priscilla?"

     "It's a classic name for a classic lady," Alley sniffed.

     "Just how classic are we talkin' here?" Charley eyed the bus. "Early seventies model?"

     "Late sixties, actually. Sixty-seven, I think? I found it and Dad repainted it for me as my sixteenth birthday present."

     "Uh-huh. And how old are you now?"

     "Just turned twenty!" Alley announced proudly.

     Charley circled the bus, shaking her head. "What happened? When did the trouble start?"

     "It was doing great the first three days, but today I was driving only a few hours and it started acting up. Had to stop a few times to let it cool down. I didn't think I was actually gonna make it today, but we managed to push through. Priscilla is very good like that."

     "You probably should've taken it to an auto shop instead of going on. You might've just killed Priscilla," Charley scolded. "That smoke there? Generally not a good thing to see coming from any engine, especially an antique like this."

     "Uh, hello. I did take it to an auto shop." Alley raised an eyebrow pointedly, and Charley rolled her eyes. "You know what I mean!"

     "Look, classes start soon. I just wanted to get here and get settled so I can prepare for them. Besides, I know you won't try and rip me off and tell me there's more work that needs done on the bus than actually does."

     "I'm not so sure they'd actually be ripping you off," Charley sighed. "Well, I'll take a look at it, but it'll have to wait awhile. I've got my hands full at the moment. In the meantime, grab a couple of suitcases and I'll help carry 'em up. I've got a room ready for you. It's pretty basic, but you can fill it out with what you need. We can unpack the rest of the van tomorrow."

     "Will it be safe, sitting here overnight? This doesn't exactly look like the classier side of town."

     "It isn't, but Priscilla will be safe enough. She's not going anywhere in her condition. Unless you want to help me push her into the garage…?"

     "Right. Tomorrow it is. Can you grab Mercedes from the front seat for me?"

     "And who's Mercedes?" Charley teased as she opened the passenger door. "Your comput-Jiminy Christmas, Ally! What the hell is that?"

     Alley blinked at her cousin, who had jumped back from the bus as if she'd been yanked. "That's Mercedes. I did tell you I'm bringing a pet with me, didn't I?"

     Charley pressed a hand to her heart, releasing a deep breath. "I do seem to recall something about that," she muttered. "But I thought you were talkin' about a goldfish or hamster or something. I wasn't expecting a rat!"

     "Sorry, I didn't realize she'd bother you." Alley opened the door of the carry cage and scooped the cream-and-brown rodent into her hand. "I used to have pet mice and gerbils when I was a kid, and you never minded those. A rat isn't that much different."

     "There are some people who would disagree with that assessment," Charley replied around a dry chuckle. "Just … keep her in your room, okay?"

     "Sure, I wasn't planning on letting her run loose in the building or anything. Want to hold her? She doesn't bite," Alley offered, and added a teasing, "You're not squeamish, are you?" when her cousin hesitated.

     "Don't be silly," Charley snorted as she accepted the squirming bundle of fur, who proceeded to scramble up her arm and crawl across her shoulders. She squeaked and hunched when she felt cold little paws and twitching whiskers tickle the back of her neck, before Alley reached out to pluck Mercedes from her opposite shoulder. "It's just I know some guys who … really don't like rats. Guess I grew a bit biased without even realizing it."

     "Awww, who could not like this adorable little face?" Alley cooed as she leaned in and nuzzled her nose against Mercedes's muzzle. She got a lick in response, and Charley chuckled. "Okay, I admit she's cute. Now come on in and let me show you the place. Hope you don't mind crashing on the couch for a day or two. Still haven't gotten a bed into the spare room yet."

     "Hey, after three nights of cheap roadside motel rooms, I'd be willing to sleep on the floor at this point. It's probably cleaner than any of those beds were."

Next

5.14 - day before momma leaves

Goddamnit I hate to admit it but I’m already thinking and crying like a baby in my head once my mom leaves me to go back home to sf. the feeling is mutual like melissa said cause she’ll probably be just as a wreck and all this time I’ve been spending with her, I’m cherishing even more. I’ve never felt like this and Victoria said the same thing; expecting that while I transition. But everyone needs to experience this. I DO, especially. I need the time away for a bit to miss them and I already miss those interactions with my brothers too of just lounging in the living room watching NBA games all night, or youtube videos like its judyslife or ustheduo.

Our lives have changed already and itll be so hard as I am bawling my eyes out, sitting in my newly mounted dining table my mom and I put together, facing outwards my window with the Chicago sun, beaming through at a whopping 54 degrees.

This is my life now, I will be on my own and making decisions on my own. Ive told a few folks that I’m sad yet annoyed my moms time here was a bit much. But I know it was perfect for what it is. We’ve been tired each and everytime, her actions speak volumes and our conversations arent as deep as I want, but I know this quality time was one that will impact my life forever. Even though I hate to admit it or will say this to her face. i love my mom. so much, she means so much to me and my brothers. The amount of things she does unselfishly aka drive my freaking car with just her and hector for 5 days cross country. do what she did to make me help settle, there is no one like her. and I will forever appreciate her and love her.

She is opinionated and still felt like I couldnt decide for myself but this will be also a time where I speak up and use my voice. Saying NO.

ugh the tears keep falling down but some highlights from this past week were:

- Silly vlog videos that I actually may put together when I get the time

- 5/6; arrived - went to container store to buy my elfa shelving for my closet. Super nice lady that worked there Hector spoke to. Went to world market to check out their furniture and standing mirrors. TJ Maxx/HomeGoods and picked up some bathroom essentials, shower curtain, mats and beddings, Facetimed Yan/Ronz/Brent+Rick at night (10pm CST) 

Mom stayed with Hector at Courtyard Marriot til Saturday 5/8. So I wanted to stay at the apartment for the first time alone and enjoy the moment and soak it all in. Parking at my garage alone, randomly waking up to the SUNRISE at 545am and just being in awe of my new city... I could just cry

Didn’t get my wifi set up yet so the struggle was real a bit. The air mattress we got from costco has been tough to sleep on but eventually Ill get my mattress. Just have been torn with my furniture not being here since everything was rushed and happened so quickly. Learnings from the move thus far:

-Write a damn list, I DID NOT. Aka thats why a bunch of junk and unnecessary things were with my mom and hector in the car. All couldve been bought here. I ocouldve taken more clothes and shoes

-Alot of my clothes aka my favorite jean jacket and pink/mauve henley was left at home. My running shoes - I decided not to prioritize idk fucking why *rolls eyes* and alot of my other valuables. Brendan is nice enough to ship it. Its not worth to buy a RT flight and go there and take it all back with me... no. :( I would though tbh if I was in LA. lol make couple trips but I’m far enough that its like.... whewww is it worth but one day I will come back and visit. For now, its slated for Oct

5/7 Friday; I had it off started the day late at 12pm and booked my mom, hector and myself tickets to the skydeck. my mom was HILARIOUS, she was scared at first and thought it would be a huge platform to see under but once she saw its just a small piece of glass over 105 floors, it wasnt THAT bad. Her and hector are hilarious together and annoying a little LOL. but I guess they’re cute

Went to Wrigley Field while there was a game and that was an experience. Fans at the top of their houses, Security all over the block, streets closed, fans everywhere. Its such a historical building in the middle of a freaking neighborhood so it made itself unique vs att/oracle park being so secluded down in mission bay.

RPM Steak for dinner in River North. Valet’d the car and Hector treated us to a Missouri Steak? it was bomb though but I wanted Medium and he wanted medium rare... cream of spinach, mac and cheese, asparagus and for dessert topped with a Baked Alaskan. Whatever that is. (It was good) and my first time trying it.. me and mom. Our waitor was a nice lady in her 30s, gave me tori kelly vibes. Then another worker stopped by our table who looked filipino for sure (Rox’s ex Dennis look a like) but I already for got his name. He told us how he lived in West Town too and would eat at this bomb restaurant called “Uncle Mikes” maybe the ‘superstar’ of chicago :) hectors jokes were a bit much saying climbing up the coconut tree and asking if he can make halo halo in the back for dessert. No sir....

5/8 Saturday; Plan was to visit Macys downtown to check out furniture at around 930am. But they werent open til 11am. We checked out the Bean at Millenium Park and my mom got to see all the tulips and flowers. We waited in line for a while at Stans Donuts since Wildberry was just too WILD and packed, so we walked a block down and had ourselves some coffee and donuts for the day. After we headed to Macys and were greeted by a tall man name Hilary. he’s THEEE BEST. he knew we didnt have to buy anything from him at macys but he’s such a sales guy and has been in this business for so long that he kept tlaking about Quality of furniture and making yourself feel comfy and at home. Being in a small apt, or living out alone for the first time, separating each section once winter hits so you’re not bored out of your mind in the small place. He was so friendly and nice, I took his business card. Went to Ashley’s on the way to the airport and got gas. Feel in love with the small dinette table they had but the one I’m sitting on now I feel like is just perfect. Soletren couch will forever be out of stock and I will never let this go :( honestly dont know how itll fit in my door but i guess i will settle for something reasonable and decent in size

IVE BEEN SPENDING SO MUCH MONEY. . . . . . . I cant even. I got paid today so todays check will be sponsoring all of my credit card funds. Gna just pay it off in full so I dont have to deal with it. But going forward a budget will be set. and luckily some of the things I bought work can reimburse so I’ll do expenses sunday perhaps.

Saturday evening after dropping off hector, we did errands in the suburbs and went to a walmart. a bit ghetto lookin but its fine. Decided to go to costco after but had an incidentn with this white man who bumped my car and didnt apologize. I was going to say something but we’re so far out in the suburbs Idk what the hell he wouldve done to me. And if they’re racist out there. took the long way home and it was prob not through the safest neighbor hoods but my mom didnt have to know since traffic on the freeway was just ALOT. omg and the roads are just so bumpy, my poor car. Becca said she has a guy at a shop her family always goes to so hopefuully I wont need him but just nice to know the option is there.

Went to the costco up by roscoe village and bought food and more essentials like medicine i have a whole pharmacy.  again throughout all this, my mom is the MVP. I wouldve been like, Ill go get it when I need it vs mom stocking up beforehand. We ended up setting my living room with a japanese style seating using my elfa shelving as the table and a towel over it. Leftovers from RPM for dinner and ribs/salad from costco. (I keep eating, and we’re not walking alot so....... I’m def gaining wait and will need to lose this asap)

I’ll be back more to cover this past week; mothers day, ikea, seafood city, hanging with becca, azul mariscos, drunk at ross and dollar tree, pants falling (mom) unbuttoned pants cuz we’re so ‘stuffffffed’ hanging with the boys via facetime cause I do miss them :( I need to havea schedule with them.

kk toodles. time to go back to work. no more crying (maybe) then an architecture tour with my mom <3 and dinner at a steakhouse at MJ’s on Michigan Ave BYeeeee

last waltz

23: Reunion cuddle

29: Last cuddle.

Please be warned: this is the saddest thing I’ve ever written. It does NOT have a happy ending.

20 years later, Nursey looks at the Haus bed and remembers.

It was the night before graduation. They'd survived a year together -- and somewhere along the way it went from surviving to enjoying, then treasuring. Nursey still got under Dex's skin. Dex still gave Nursey that look of barely restrained fury. But there was a dance to it, and when they got into the rhythm, it started to feel like a dizzying waltz, the two of them spinning around until they were drained of outrage and left breathless. Nursey remembered countless moments when Dex's scowl disappeared, and the corners of his mouth tugged persistently up until he burst into laughter. And then they'd both be laughing, and it would turn from a squabble to a memory.

So the night before graduation, Nursey sat on his bed and thought about how he wasn't gonna have any more memories.

"It's not a funeral," Dex said from his bed, a few feet away, tucked into the back corner of the room.

Nursey hummed and nodded and felt no better.

Dex heaved a sigh. "You're just gonna sit there and mope, aren't you?"

"Mm." Because what else was there to do but mope? Nursey didn't want the night  to end. He didn't want the year to end. He didn't want this - this crazy rivalry-turned-friendship, this comfort and familiarity - to be gone. But Dex had a job offer in Chicago, and Nursey was interviewing for copy editor jobs in New York. Tomorrow they'd celebrate, and toss their caps in the air, and go their separate ways.

"Well." Dex shifted. Nursey lifted his eyes. Well, what?

Sighing, Dex rose from his bed.

A creak of the mattress, a sudden tug of gravity, and all at once there was Dex, heartbreakingly close. His thigh pressed warm against Nursey's, his arm slung across Nursey's back. He curled his hand around Nursey's upper arm and pulled.

"I can't just watch you like this," Dex grumbled against the crown of his head. And then he laid his cheek there, gentle pressure and warm weight. Dex held him for minutes, long quiet seconds that stretched   on forever. Nursey didn't cry, and he never spoke. Instead, he sighed, and closed his eyes, and memorized the moment. His fingers found Dex's knee a few minutes in. That was it.

Standing here, looking at the bed where it happens, Nursey remembers it still.

Over the years, he's wondered if something  might have been in that moment besides friendship. Lord knows he's never found that beautiful synchronicity with anyone else, never encountered a person with which he was able to dance that same waltz he used to dance with Dex. After a while, he'd given up trying. What he was craving wasn't out there. It had lived and died in this room, and the hug had been a death knell, a silent acknowledgment of what was never again to be.

He sighs, crosses the room, and sits on the bed. The mattress is bare now, awaiting its next occupant. Scuff marks in the corner of the floor are the only remains of the second bed, which had been taken out when Whiskey got their dibs that final year. From this vantage point, Nursey can see the bathroom they'd shared, the same desk where he'd inked lines of poetry into the wood. They're still there, but faded, illegible. He feels endlessly old, endlessly lonely.  Of course he should end up back here. Of course he should be sentimental and maudlin enough to want to sit once again where he sat before. He closes his eyes and shakes his head. What was he hoping to find, coming back here one final time before they finally demolish this old building? What was he hoping to see?

The stairs creak. Nursey opens his eyes.

When Dex appears in the doorway and sees Nursey there, he jumps. And then he smiles. "I don't know why I'm surprised."

Nursey thinks perhaps he's dreaming. Dex appears to him hazy, like he's looking through bleary eyes. This Dex has crow's feet, generous wrinkles around the corners of his eyes. A fuzz of beard covers his chin, and his face has rounded out. It's a softer version of him, but the proof of him is his eyes. They alone are sharp, the hard piercing green of jade. Nursey looks into those eyes and knows he's awake. Knows this is real.

"Hey, Will," he says.

"Look at you." Dex's voice is a little deeper. "You look just the same."

"Eternal youth," Nursey says. "What can I say."

"Naw." Dex drags out the word, a low, soft drawl. It's the kind of mellow sound that only age can bring. Back in the day, Dex couldn't sound like that if he tried. "You always looked like an old man. That scruff." He rubs his own beard in imitation.

Nursey nods. A beat of silence; the air in the room seems to buzz. "I didn't think anyone else would come this early. I know Jack and Bitty were waiting 'til the weekend."

"I wasn't planning on it," Dex says. "But."

"You missed me?" Nursey says, cocking his head. He tries for that smile that came so easily back then, hoping for a chirp in return. Something to take them back, transform them into their old selves, just for a moment.

But it won't happen. Dex is softer all over, freer with his smiles. It's not news, but after the wedding all Nursey's seen of Dex is social media pictures. And after a while, he even stopped looking at those. It hurt, to see Dex sharing those smiles with another, to see the joy in his eyes as he posed with his wife and kids. It hurt, and it raised old questions that Nursey's never had the strength to find answers to. Better to shut it out. Better to let it fade into the past.

Dex crosses the room, stops, kneels. He runs his thumb across the groove in the floor where a coin once decided their fate. "I can't believe they're finally letting her go," he says.

"She's an old Haus," Nursey says. "I remember you saying you couldn't believe she was still standing."

"And that was 20 years ago." Dex stands, slowly, a hand on his back. "I suppose it's well past time."

"She'll always be a part of us," Nursey says. "Hey, maybe they'll let you keep that floorboard."

Dex snorts. "If they do, I'll burn it."

"You would not." Nursey grins. "You'd frame it."

"Maybe I would." Dex takes a moment to look at Nursey, and his gaze lingers. It's like being taken apart, that gaze, like being exposed, and Nursey feels as though his heart is lying pulsing on his lap. He wonders how much of him Dex can really see.

"Still writing?" Dex asks. He's running his fingers over the desk, tracing those old lines of poetry.

"Here and there," Nursey says. "Still fishing for lobsters?"

Dex gives him a scowl, but it's gentle, muted. "Not if I can help it." The scowl melts. "I took Cody and Jessica, once. Now neither of them will eat fish."

Nursey laughs. "How old are they now?"

"Eight and twelve. Here. I'll show you some pictures." Dex pulls out his phone and settles down next to Nursey on the bed.

Nursey's heart jumps into second gear. He doesn't want to see. He doesn't want to know how happy Dex is, how beautiful his children are. And he doesn't want Dex to know that Nursey's spent all these years trying and failing to suffocate the persistent flame in the bottom of his heart.

The pictures are undeniably adorable, though: little boy Cody with a paper crown on his birthday, nearly teenage Jessica with her mother's blonde hair and her father's freckles, laughing on the beach. Nursey can feel the love radiating off Dex like a wave of warmth. "They're beautiful," he says, and his voice catches at the end of it.

Dex deposits the phone on the mattress next to him. "It's great to see you, Derek," he says after a moment. "It's been way too long."

"You too," Nursey says, automatically, but his mind is whirling. What would freshman year Dex have said to know that twenty years later, he'd think it'd been way too long? Back then, he'd have said forever wasn't long enough.

They're not old. They're barely 40. They're just different.

"Still married to your work?" Dex asks softly. "Or..."

"No," Nursey says. "No, I mean, yes. Still. There's... no one."

He knows Dex can see it now. He looks away.

Contact. Warmth. Dex's hand slides slowly along Nursey's back. It catches, like it did back then, just under the blade of Nursey's shoulder. The bristle of Dex's beard against the side of Nursey's face is a new sensation.

"Look," Dex murmurs, "for what it's worth... I know."

Nursey's eyes fill with tears. He squeezes tight to keep them in.

"I'm sorry," Dex says. "But I couldn't just wait ... I'm sorry."

It hurts. Nursey's heart hurts as it thuds in his chest. The shudder that passes through him hurts as it goes. "So I could have," he starts. "If I'd ... back then ..."

"I couldn't just wait," Dex says again. And, again, "I'm sorry."

Nursey does cry, this time. He buries his face in Dex's shoulder and lets the tears finally fall. Here, in this Haus that will be a memory soon, he mourns what could have been and what never was. And Dex is there, again, by his side as it dies.

Two days later, they stand side by side, surrounded by old friends and strangers as the Haus falls. And then they nod, and smile, and say goodbye.

"Find someone," Dex says to him. Sincere.

"Chill, Poindexter," Nursey says back, with a cheeky grin. "I'll do what I want."

It's one last waltz, but now it just feels like they're going through the motions. The dance was over long ago.

where my fob asks

right here babeyyyyyyy

honorable mention - what would you title a movie of your life?: either yellow or self-made man

our lawyer made us change the name of this song so we wouldn’t get sued - worst fob rumor you’ve heard?: uhhhhhh i mean i know the whole dick pic debacle and patrick has been arrested once (w the greatest mug shot of all time) but the llama shit going down now is hilarious and i couldn’t believe it was true when i first heard lmao

dance, dance - which member of fall out boy has the best style?: i’m gonna say patrick on this one based on soul punk era alone, but i think all of them have their moments

snitchers and talkers get stitches and walkers - long song titles or short?: short is compact and easier to say obviously but i’m a sucker for the long classic titles for sure

bang the doldrums - what do you think about irl shippers?: i think as long as people aren’t going up to the irl people and being creepy or harrassing them as if they should be with so-and-so and not with their actual life partner/whoever they choose, then it’s fine to think whatever you want. your own brain, your thoughts, their own lives, their privacy

disloyal order of water buffaloes - which is your favorite fall out boy lyric?: this isn’t even all of them but here’s a good chunk lmaooo; “i’m coming apart at the seams/ pitching myself for leads in other people’s dreams/ now buzz, buzz, buzz/ doc, there’s a hole where something was/ doc, there’s a hole where something was/ fell out of bed, butterfly bandage, but don’t worry/ you’ll never remember, your head is far too blurry/ put him in the back of a squad car, restrain that man/ he needs his head put through a cat scan/ hey editor, I’m undeniable/ hey doctor, I’m certifiable” , “oh, little girl, you got me staring odd/ or was that just a telescopic camera nod/ painted dolls in the highway, truck stop stalls/ lot lizards scales cool your nightlife moods/ all the rookies leave your badge and your gun on the desk when you leave the room” ,  “when all the others were just stirring awake/ i’m trying to trick myself to fall asleep again” , “it’s just the sweet weather and the peacock feathers/ in the morning it will all be better/ it’s not what it seems in the land of dreams/ don’t worry your head, just go to sleep” ,  “oh, i got the skyline in my veins/ forget your nighttime/ summer love on a gurney with a squeaky wheel/ and joke us, joke us/ ‘til lakeshore drive comes back into focus/ i just wanna come back to life/ spark my crazy head to keep your woman alive” , “i love you in the same way, there’s a chapel in a hospital“ , “and i’m so sorry but not really/ tell the boys where to find my body/ new york eyes, chicago thighs/ pushed up the window to kiss you off“ , “he glances at his peers sitting seven to twelve stacked/ on one to six, the gallery is hushed/ boys in three pieces dream of grandstanding and bravado/ the city sleeps in a cell, not withstanding what we all know“ , “drink down that gin and kerosene/ come spit on bridges with me/ just to keep us warm/ light a match to leave me be“ , “the sounds of this small town make my ears hurt/ oh yeah, you caught me but I caught you on worse/ they say, “you want a war? you’ve got a war” but who are you fighting for?/ the tide’s out, the ship’s run aground/ we drown traitors in shallow water” , “don’t laugh at me, don’t laugh at me/ no seriously don’t laugh at me/ it’s not funny/ i’m not joking/ it’s not funny/ i’m not laughing” , “and in the end, if I don’t make it on the list/ would you sneak me a wristband?”

she’s my winona - which celebrity do you look up to most?: alive wise, avey tare, daniel rossen, sean bonnette for a top 3, but passed wise probably john steinbeck, gustav klimt, and satoshi kon

what a catch, donnie - favourite artist that features in a fob song?: idk probably jay-z’s opening line in thriller bc it’s a classic or lil wayne’s bit in tiffany blews

where did the party go - bass lines or guitar solos?: guitar solos yaaass

centuries - which century would you most like to live in?: i like the current one i’m growing up in rn honestly, most up to date and as advanced as we can be for now, sorry if that’s a lame answer

the kids aren’t alright - if you could send a message to yourself five years ago, what would it say?: you’re loved, and soon you’re going to find the one you’ll love forever. it’s okay to not know. be kind and patient. never let anyone make you feel bad about yourself. change isn’t always bad. you’ll figure out more of who you’re supposed to be as you go along. in time you’ll become the person you’ve always wanted to be, but you have to treat yourself nicer

hold me tight or don’t - how do you think their next album will sound?: probably a continuation of their newer sound, but based off some of the new style in mania i think there’s plenty of room for experimentation and improvement. i’d be shocked if they went back to an older style, don’t think that’s happening. i think whatever they make it’ll be progressing off their past, but i just wanna be able to listen to it and truly be able to enjoy it. 

sunshine riptide - if you could say one thing to the band, what would it be?: thank you for the sounds of my childhood and for shaping my love of and taste in music

love you anna darlin!

*/ @vitaegratis left a note;

“Chrissyyyyy, do you know what day it is?”

---☁︎｡⋆｡ Of course she knew what day it was. Chrissy was sappy like that. 2 years since they reconnected. What a strange, strange day that was. But with wide, blue eyes she looked at Eddie in an attempt to be as unsettling as possible. “The day I died,” came her answer, voice monotone and eyes still wide. It was the truth. It was indeed the day Chrissy Cunningham died. Though, she knew that Eddie was looking for something cute. Too bad Chrissy thought this answer was funnier.

hockey fanfic masterlist

A handy dandy guide to all of my hockey fics!

Players I Write For:

Sidney Crosby

Mathew Barzal

Matthew Tkachuk

Anthony Beauvillier

Vince Dunn

The Hughes Bros

Nico Hischier

& more… Send me an ask for the player you’re looking for!

S. CROSBY

hat trick: Sid goes for a hat trick on and off the ice. Three goals and three girls.

- hat trick IG edits: Some Crosby family moments commemorated in photos.

give it to me (18+): Sidney is pissed at the state of the Penguins and takes it out on you.

sent to save me (masterlist): Sidney reunites with his ex and gets the surprise of a lifetime.

M. BARZAL

baby daddy: After you have dental work done you have some things to share with Mat.

sick day: Mat comes home to take care of you and your kids.

voicemail: You've been leaving voicemails for Mat for months and he finally answers.

too early (18+): Mat helps you get back to sleep.

morning glory (18+): Mat helps you wake up.

watching him those eyes (18+): Mat punishes you for the way you acted around Tito.

A. BEAUVILLIER

till forever falls apart: You and Anthony deal with the aftermath of his trade to Vancouver.

- til forever falls apart IG edits: Some photos to commemorate the Beauvillier family's new start.

i’ve got you: You and Anthony deal with the aftermath of his trade to Chicago. emergency contact: Thank god Anthony is listed as your emergency contact.

watching him with those eyes (18+): Mat punishes you for the way you acted around Tito.

M. TKACHUK

homecoming: Five times Matthew came home to you from a roadie.

waking up in vegas (masterlist): A Vegas trip with your siblings can't be that bad... Can it?

Q. HUGHES

puck bunny: Quinn appreciates your Halloween costume.

V. DUNN & A. LARSSON

it's enough to make a girl blush (18+): Adam has Vince apologize to you after an accident.

Strawberry Moon

Is it odd that I was thrilled to carry you into the hospital on your third ER visit? My heart was full of gratefulness that I was able to be there. To be present. To comfort you as you struggled for breath. I was certain that this would be one of my last opportunities. The surgeon had told me just the week before that he couldn't do anything else to help me fight off the cancer that was tightly wrapping its tentacles around my neck. I was so thankful that I could be there with you, even as your own body struggled for breath. You woke up early on that Monday morning, many hours before the sun. You were hot, which was understandable. The heat and humidity of those June days had zapped everyone, even the healthiest of bodies. In the dark of night, I stole the fan that Mimi was using, and turned it on your body. You settled down a bit, and I put my hand on your chest. The heart that has been beating in your chest for five and a half years plus, was racing. Beating wildly. Out of control. I noticed your breath was fast. Short. Shallow. My 3AM stupor attributed this to your frustration with the heat. "It will slow down," I believed. Until it didn't. You woke me at 6AM and got up to watch TV. I knew something was wrong. You never wake at 6AM. You love to sleep in, according to what your body needs. I considered taking you to the pediatrician, but I knew that it was probably more serious than a visit to the clinic. And I had Mimi in my ear, telling me that you needed to go to the ER. So we went. But I am ashamed to admit that it was after I went back to bed for another hour or so. I needed relief from my own demons that I only got while sleeping. When I slept, I forgot that cancer existed in my neck. When I slept, I forgot the doctor's words about how risky a surgery would be. When I slept, I forgot that I needed to find books for you about coping with the loss of a parent. When I slept, I forgot the nightmare of life. But when I awoke, it all came crashing down on my back, like a load of the heaviest cement blocks. Painful. Aching. Horrific. How could I help you when I was falling apart myself? But that is what mothers do. We mother in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, til death do us part. You felt too weak to walk, so Mimi carried you to the car. I drove as fast as I could along 38th St. and Chicago Avenue. It's not the first time I have breathed a word of gratefulness that we live so close to several children's hospitals. Thank you, Minneapolis. We arrived moments (or was it hours?) after the nurses had begun their strike. The car in front of us didn't hit the accelerator as quickly as I thought appropriate when the light turned green, so I gave a little honk. The nurses began cheering and waving at us, thinking the horn was in support of their demands. Sure, friends. Anything to get my son to the ER as quickly as possible. We parked the car in the lot set aside for emergency room visits. I didn't have time to wonder how many petrified parents had pulled into that parking spot before us. I gathered up your almost fifty pounds of boy, carried you inside, and held you as the triage nurse asked question after question. So many questions. Couldn't she see you panting in my arms? You were uncomfortable, but not nervous. Well, you weren't nervous about your breathing difficulties, but you were nervous about the "arm hugger." The blood pressure cuff had squeezed and pinched and left an imprint on your arm and in your mind. If anything was to be feared, it was the arm hugger. I answered all their questions and we sat down, the only three in the waiting room. That felt good. I was certain we would be called back soon, if a breathing attack didn't get them moving, surely a lack of others waiting would get us some attention quickly. And it was a short wait. Maybe 10 minutes at the most, although it felt like an hour, listening to your shallow breaths in my ear, feeling your heart beating so quickly in your chest. We were led back into Procedure Room #9. I set you on the bed and helped your change into the gown that the nurse offered, the one with the stars and spaceships sprinkled on it. You kept your Snoopy jammie bottoms on underneath. Mimi was on the phone texting our family while we got you situated for your first breathing treatment. You balked at the taste, but your body was too weak to put up much fight. I sat in the chair to the left of your bed and held your hand. And then I crawled into the bed with you and held your body. My dear boy. My sweet, dear boy. I'm not sure if there is any time I love you more than when you are sick and weak and I can mother you in all the ways. That sounds so selfish, but you are so independent and "tough" as the doctor called you. I wanted to hold you in my arms forever. As we snuggled in the bed, watching Jake and the Neverland Pirates, I remembered your previous two visits to the ER. When you were two years old, you had new pants on with pockets. Your little hands reached into the pockets to test them out just as you walked up the two stairs from the sidewalk. Your little toddler legs tripped, the pockets acted as handcuffs, and you crashed right into the concrete with your chin catching most of the force. Kyle and I raced you to Children's Riverside hospital. I was certain you needed stitches. You happily colored away as the doctor came in, gave me a band-aid and reassured me you were fine. We drove home in the blackness of night and all that remains is the scar you have on the underside of your chin. A year later you woke up on a summer morning and told me your legs didn't work. Polio, I was certain. And it was all my fault for waving the doctor off about the vaccine. You had single-handedly brought polio back into the United States' population. But instead of rushing you to the closest iron lung, I delivered you to day care and asked them to keep an eye on you. When you still were crawling around at lunch time, I left work and we hurried to the emergency room. The kind doctor decided you were having growing pains, and you were fine from that moment on. Our time at the hospital was so short that I decided we deserved to play a little hooky. I took you to get a cheeseburger for lunch before returning you to day care. It was a sweet time with you. And now here we were. Back at the emergency room, but this time it was different. It had only been days since my surgeon told me he didn't recommend surgery to remove the mass threatening to steal my breath. It was too risky in his eyes. Let's try chemotherapy again, he said. It was the unspoken words that killed me. We all knew that chemotherapy could only slow the cancer down, not destroy it. What could I hope for? A final Christmas in 2016? Would I make it to kindergarten graduation? These were terrifying questions. I had to bring myself back to the present. All I knew is that you needed your mama now and I was there for you, with you. I blinked back tears in that stretcher bed that I am sure had "STRYKER" imprinted on the side. Your vacant eyes focused on the TV in the corner of the room while we held the breathing mask to your lips. In that moment I knew I would not be there each time you will need me. It broke my heart that day and it breaks again as I write the horrid words. But at the same time, I felt such a relief that I was able to be with you that time. We finally were moved into a more permanent room and the day was filled with asthma education, movies, BINGO, and breathing treatments. The doctors didn't diagnose you with asthma, but they didn't have a certain answer for your shallow breaths. A virus? The dry, dusty, summer winds that we had faced at the pool just 24 hours before? It remains a mystery, but I'm grateful that the steroids caused your airways to open and relax throughout the day. I relied on my Valium for that. Even though you had improved so much during the day, they still felt like you needed to be kept overnight. Which, of course, meant that I was also kept overnight. You needed me with you and I needed the same. I told the nurse and doctor that we needed to be discharged by 10AM the next morning because I had an appointment to meet with a surgeon at Mayo Clinic in Rochester. The breathing specialist asked me what was priority: you being able to easily inhale oxygen or my appointment? Fuck you, I thought. You have no idea what my life is like and how dare you accuse me of not taking care of my son. I can't remember if I responded calmly or not. Probably not. But in my heart, I knew I was going to make sure that I left on time with a healthy boy. It must have been around 8pm when I told the nurses I was going to wheel you around the hospital halls for a bit in the wheelchair. They told me this was not allowed, but I somehow managed to get you out of that 9 ft by 9 ft room. I walked you to the cafeteria and then around to the lobby. We stared at the sculptures and art pieces, all created for the children who were unlucky enough to be inside these yellow walls. And then I remembered, the strawberry moon! Maybe we could catch a glimpse of the full moon rising on the longest day of the year. I casually rolled the wheelchair out the door, like we had been released from that medical prison. The humid city air hit us as we walked towards the sidewalk on Chicago Avenue. I looked up. The sun had set, but I couldn't spy the moon no matter which direction I turned. I'm not sure if we were too early or if the tall walls of the city hospital were blocking our view. We would miss it. The once-in-a-lifetime event, and we would miss it. The evening light turned into morning light. The longest day of the year yielded the shortest night of the year. It was obvious to everyone, but me. You body calmed overnight and your breathing became normal again. We were released from your jail cell late morning, just in time for us to drive south to Rochester. Although I fought your doctors to get you discharged on time, my appointment at Mayo Clinic merely felt like a formality. It was an answer to the question of whether I explored every option before giving up. Did I fight for you with my last ounce of strength? We walked in to see the surgeon. I hadn't seen him since just over a year before, when, at our first meeting, he told me I was uncurable. I didn't need to see him again. What else was there to say? I walked in with little respect for him. And even less hope. But I wanted him to see you. I wanted him to know why I was desperate for as many days as the Good Lord would give. I wanted him to see my ringless finger. I wanted him to lay eyes on the five year-old boy who had heard that word, "cancer", more times than any child should. I needed you. I needed your presence. I needed the doctor to see our family. You grounded me in that moment of fear and floating. The kind nurse brought you crayons and apple juice and snacks and kept you occupied while the surgeon performed his examination. You happily drank your apple juice (treat of all special treats!) and played games on Mimi's phone. I held my breath as I always do, waiting for the verdict. Will he or won't he? Am I a lost cause? Will he try to convince me that quality of life is more important than life and how can you even compare the two? "I think we should do the surgery." He went on to describe the major risks, the unknowns, the loss that I potentially would face. Loss? Is it loss to be alive? I knew in that moment, before I even left the exam room, that I would move forward with the surgery. How could we not? I've always taken the most aggressive approach. I've always weighed my options with the question of which I would regret more? Yes, I would regret not fighting with everything in me. "And I think we might be able to cure you." Cure. Cure me from cancer. Cure me from hopelessness. Cure me from depression. Cure me from this weighty, terrifying life. Cure. My eyes filled with tears. "I'm sorry," I apologized. "I haven't heard that word for such a long time." We walked down the hallway after spending almost two hours with my doctor. My doctor. The doctor who would do the surgery that I hadn't yet committed to. The doctor that spoke of ridding my body of cancer. Forever? How had life changed so quickly? From mourning my last ER visit with you to allowing myself to dream of coming out of surgery cancer-free? How were we walking out of our second hospital of the day with a chance at feeling hope again? I would have loved to show you that strawberry moon that night when I pushed you along Chicago Avenue. I would have told you how rare it was, and why they coined the term, "strawberry moon." I would have described how we had just lived through the longest day of the year, hoping to sear these memories into your brain forever. Now, I am left feeling hopeful that we might live to see the next one. Together.

Reflection

mind dump:

i don’t even know though

so, i get that andrew is in ireland right now but i’m pretty sure we aren’t the type of friends to chat daily

which is fine,

but it makes me nervous that we’ll grow apart and eventually stop talking again which saddens me

i already lost jude and i dont want to lose him too :/

sigh

but we’ll see how it goes.

i’m sure we’ll still want to be there for each other but i also dont want our relationship to just be for emotional support. we are good at being there for each other but i want to share good times wth my close friends as well as my low points. it’s all about balance, y’know what im sayin? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

but yeah. jude.

we hung out the other day and thought about the past but

sigh

i just

i realized that we’re relying on media fairly heavily to maintain our friendship and i don’t want to become that. i want to be her friends because of our deep and meaningful conversations not just because i wanted to show her a funny video. sometimes i think about how different life would be without the internet. i think it’d be a lot easier to develop and cultivate deep relationships 

but i also think it would be much harder to maintain relationships long distance. even with the internet it’s been tough.

man, long distance sucks. 

i’ve been acting pretty awkward around old friends just bc i don’t know how to act anymore. this served true especially for the beginning of the summer. but slowly, bit by bit, i’ve been able to take this time to reflect and think about how i’ve grown and how i want to grow in the future. it’s been nice getting to really know myself again.

i know that i am enthusiastic, prideful, hardworking, determined, hella stubborn, blunt, can see right through people’s facade, and so much more.

i am not always loyal to my kinda friends but i am til death to those close to my heart. i wonder if people want to have a deep relationship with me and don’t understand why they can’t. i know i’ve been in that position. but i think it just comes down to trustworthiness. can i talk to you without a filter or will you be offended? can i show you my best and worst moments and will you treat me the same as always? really?

i don’t think so.

and that kind of friendship doesn’t just happen overnight either. it’s something that takes time. but it also just happens. it isn’t planned or forced. it just falls into place. and it makes me really sad that those friendships don’t last forever.

so often i think about how much easier it would’ve been to have just stayed in california and not moved away. i’d be in my comfort zone with my old friends and nothing would have changed.

but that’s the issue.

nothing would have changed.

i wouldn’t have grown so much or learned the value of time and money.

what it means to be independent and to keep yourself accountable. no one’s babying me out in chicago. i work hard to make bank and i financially support myself. projects, food, the works. and i am really happy that i chose to move. it’s just been hard letting go of the things back in california. 

but i have to let go.

of the people dearest to my heart,

of my comfort zone,

of my past life...

because it’s all gone now. and it’s irretrievable

sigh.

4.19.2017: 1

Today is my 27th bday. I woke up this morning and checked my email out of habit. I realized that in the back of my mind I wished for some kind of email, letter, note, telegram, smoke signal, anything from my dad who passed away March 2, 2016. It made me start thinking about a somewhat common thought of memory and also of recording and sharing my life. I wish so much that I had known my father better. Really knew him as a person rather than my dad who I got frustrated with as a young adult. I wish I had known what made him fall in love with my mom at 16. I wish I had known how it felt to lose his father at 11. I wish I had known when he first used drugs. I wish he could have cold me about the years we spent apart and whether he thought of me daily or whether the drugs had taken over even his thoughts. I wish he could have shared the first food he remembers cooking. I wish he could have told me what he did on his 27th birthday. I wonder if he ever wondered so much about these thing and writing them down or sharing them in some way. I wonder if he didn't think we would care enough to ask or listen. I'm not sure how I'll share these letters and with who exactly, but I'm going to go off the assumption that someone will want to have some more info on the fascinating life of me. Even if that person is just the me of the future. I would be very impressed with myself if I committed to adding to this diary or journal regularly, but let's stick to once a year for sure and see where we get. So, again... Today is my 27th birthday. I'm feeling a tad old but mostly I feel like I'm coming in to my real self. I feel good about my life overall and the choices that I've made. I really try to reevaluate, probably too much, to do my best to make sure that I'm doing what makes me happy. I'm learning its very easy to get caught up in the normal everyday but to check in with myself and ask what I need right now and whether I'm getting in. Godfrey and I are still living together and loving each other (vomit I know). We recently moved in to our new apartment in south loop chicago which is currently a pretty fancy area of downtown. It was a big move and transition because we were in our previous apartment in uptown for over 4 years. Moving was a bitch but cleansing and downsizing felt great. I feel finally settled in to our new place even though I sometimes have imposter syndrome as to whether I belong here in this fancy apartment in a fancy building in a fancy part of town. But we're gonna just fake it til we make it and enjoy the view. Godfrey and I are also working on 11 years together and our story always amazes me. We joke about how some of our time in college when we did distance was kept together by sheer stubbornness but now we are strong together, happy, and laugh so much. Marriage has been discussed more than once and I would guess we'll get that going soon. Sometimes I wonder whether we need it given that we have already built a beautiful life together. Aside from tax and health benefits, do we need the government to recognize us as a couple? Do we need to adhere to traditional gender roles? (Yes I really care about these things.) But in the end, I think a celebration in front of our family and friends who have helped us along the way is important. For them and for us. A way to commit to each other on a new level and feel recognized and supported can't be wrong. I'm currently working at northwestern university and getting bored with my admissions adviser job. I'm interviewing for a part-time job as a college counselor for high schoolers and also trying to get my foot in the door for an academic advising job for undergraduate students, which is closer to where I want to be. We'll see what opportunities come up but I feel really confident in my ability to make things happen for myself. I might not find the perfect next step right away, but I know I'm determined enough to keep looking and recognize a good option when it comes along. Earlier this year, after going home for the holidays, we decided to start seriously making moves to head back to California. With my mom alone now and Godfrey's family also in California, it just feels like time. We've had this great adventure but chicago will never be my forever home. We're thinking that fall of next year we'll make our way back. I'll let you know how it goes, check the next letter for an update. It feels good and scary to have a timeline in place but I know we'll make it work and things will fall into place because the universe looks out for us. Overall this year has been challenging. Losing my dad was the hardest experience of my life. I often think to myself that I would be interested in researching grief if I wasn't so busy grieving. I feel like I will always be grieving but I have had less bad days lately. I think about him all the time and still hope for more dream meetings but I have always been raised to put one foot in front of the other and that's what I generally do. I do my best to still make time for the feelings that come, both good and bad. Loss sucks and that's about all I have to say about that (read in forest gump voice). There have been lots of other important things I'm sure but those are the highlights. I want to include my annual birthday goals that I hope to work on in the next year: 1. Run a 10K. I've started training and found a race I want to join but I'm still really nervous, mainly because I currently can't run a mile. I've never set a really specific physical goal for myself and I want this to be the time that I can impress myself and stick to it. 2. Become fluent in Spanish. Ugh, this has been my goal for the last few years and languages are apparently really hard for me. It's important for me to learn Spanish not just because so many people speak it but also because I'm part Bolivian and it always bothered me to not know the language of my ancestors. Let's try again. 3. Take better pictures. I recently got a new camera lens and I want to use my fancy camera more often than my phone. I want to feel confident about the pictures I'm taking and feel like I can capture the special moments even more than I already do. 4. Watch less tv and do more of the other goals. My love for tv, especially trashy reality shows, runs deep but it eats up so much time. I want to make more conscious efforts to focus on these other goals, there's always more time to catch up on tv later. I want to end with some of my favorite pictures from this year. Julie