#complaining on tumblr somehow magically fixes whatever I’m complaining about

[ifindtheartifacts]

I GOT AN ITALIAN PHONE NUMBER TO USE IVE MESSAGED THE HOUSING PEOPLE

Now we wait

[shinonometrash]

Jasper Lane’s Main Story: English vs Japanese version, full summary, comparisons & thoughts. Part 1 of 3. (TW: rape, sexual assault, drugging)

So! Jasper’s route has finally been released in English as of August 31st, 2021. It seems that Voltage is following the same release order for consorts and events as how items were released in the Japanese version. I spent wayyy too much money to binge the entire route in a day...and get all the premium content...(honestly the hardest part about binging a route isn’t the love passes, it’s getting all the spirit points. Ugh.) I took note of a lot of different things in this and wanted to make a post going over all this information. Sorry this post took me so long to make, I had to go back and reread a lot of Jasper’s story in Japanese to refresh my memory as well as make sure I didn’t miss any big details since I had read it first back in May, and my Japanese has improved a lot (I think) since then. It was unfortunate and I didn’t really want to, lol. But! Now it’s his birthday (9/11)! I get to post this on his birthday! Happy birthday, asshole! This post is why you and your route suck! I’m probably only going to be able to post this first part today though, because honestly this post is taking much more time than I expected.

The biggest thing is going to be that 

Jasper’s English (Court of Darkness) route does NOT contain any major triggering content. You’ll probably still want to punch him, though.

So, if you’re looking to find out about that, there you go. Anyways.

I’ve broken this into four posts, three that contain summaries of each chapter, regardless of changes, and one that only contains the changes. 

(As of the date of posting, 9/11/2021, I have not completed all the posts yet. Please check back later and I will add the links to the rest of  them as they are posted.)

This post is part one including the summaries. Part two in currently progress. Part three in currently progress. Post with ONLY comparisons and thoughts currently in progress. 

Since I had contacted Voltage about the triggering content in Jasper’s route (and made a very lengthy Tumblr post about it) and they told me they prefer to remove potentially triggering content from stories in the localization process, rather than simply adding trigger warnings, I was more or less expecting this. Although...I didn’t really expect it to be to this extent, nor did I realize how I was actually going to feel about it...! Of course, the CoD did a fabulous job with the content they were given and what they were told to do, as always, and I completely understand why they changed what they did. Like. Seriously. They did the best they could do with the absolute mess of a route they were given. But, like, the route was an absolute mess to begin with. So there’s only so much that can be done to fix it...💀 Anyways, please know that any of my complaining is not directed at the CoD team because they’re wonderful!! Support them by buying in game content if you’re able to!! They recently released a special VIP pack that’s honestly an AMAZING deal. This is just a criticism of the route itself and my thoughts on it, not on the CoD team.

Now, onto the main point of the post...the English and Japanese versions of this route are very different. 

Warning: This post contains major spoilers about Jasper’s main story as well as potentially triggering content including but not limited to rape, sexual assault, and drugging.

In addition, I am not including any CGs in this post as I’m not trying to break Voltage’s policy.

Please click under the read more to continue.

Okay, so first off this is probably going to sound incredibly self centered of me, but I sort of get the feeling that my post about his Japanese route had some sort of influence on the changes in his route...? Not sure how big of tabs Voltage keeps on Tumblr...but it seems like nearly all of the main points I was specifically really mad about got changed--and I’m sure they must have definitely seen my post...? Also, this too probably sounds silly, but I was kinda happy reading some of the dialogue that was nearly the same as the way I had translated it. Part of me was still afraid that I had no idea what I was talking about and just looked stupid writing a long post with misinterpretations of lines💀

Pre-notes: 1. For those who named their cat something else, Robin = MC’s cat.  2. In the direct quotes, anytime you see “---” it’s just me cutting out a part in the dialogue that I deem unnecessary for comparison purposes. 3. I bolded whether there’s differences in the chapters or not in each chapter summary, in case you only want to read the summaries for the chapters with the differences. It’s pretty much going to be the same as reading my other post, then, but I explain more of the chapter here, usually.

Chapter 1-3

Literally so dull. Nothing really of note. Pretty much the same between the English and Japanese. Jasper asks about her hands and she’s like “omg he’s so nice he was worried about my hands!!”, she meets Sherry and they become friends, the headmaster tells her she has to learn magic if she wants a chance at going back home. They go to the runes and learn about the history of Saligia. Guy grabs her again, she escapes.

Chapter 4

It starts to get a little bit more interesting here. Overall, nothing seems too different between the two stories yet. Jasper invites her to the rooftop for a tea party. Jasper is desperately trying to get MC to interact (in a positive manner) with Guy, she asks Jasper to have tea with her instead. Sherry and Rio mention a ball. Toa and Guy get into a glaring match. Toa leaves. You know, the usual. Jasper whispers something in Guy’s ear and they leave, and everybody follows them because...you know. They discover that Guy’s room has been trashed. Toa walks in and asks what’s going on, and then falls silent when he sees Guy’s room. Guy is like “Toa, you left before me, did you not?” and Toa is like “What are you trying to imply?” then they glare at each other until Lynt is like “Are you trying to say that Toa is the culprit? He would never.” Fenn agrees. Roy says they should investigate, and Toa says he will also investigate, since he is the dorm prefect after all. Afterwards, Jasper asks Guy if he thinks Toa did it, Guy says “No, Qelsum isn’t that stupid.” Guy says they need information. He sends Jasper out to investigate, tells Jasper to be sure not to be seen. Fenn, Violet, and MC go out for food or something, and MC runs into Sirius, literally. Fenn is like “what are you doing?” and MC says she ran into somebody but turns around and there’s nobody there. I guess it’s trying to imply that Jasper is stealthy and can hide away into the night or something?? But then that’s it.

Chapter 5-6

No overall noticeable changes. It’s time for the ball! Sherry lends MC a dress and they head to the ball. She sees Jasper in the hallway closely inspecting wine, without Guy. She calls his name and he startles. He tells her he’s selecting a wine for Guy because Guy is very selective and will not consume anything that Jasper has not prepared. Jasper essentially says that Guy is his reason for living. Then they go into the dance hall. And Guy is all like “why did you come in together?” then they say they ran into each other by chance. Guy goes to take a sip of the wine, looks  startled, and then ends up spitting it out into a handkerchief. He claims he choked on the wine. She finds Jasper in the hallway again, looking at the wine, and calls out. Again, he startles. She wonders why. She tries to ask, but then he dodges the question by telling MC that the dress looks good on her. He invites her to dance and says he’ll teach her. They head back to the ballroom, she asks him some various questions and they all basically end with him saying that he serves Guy or whatever, and she’s thinking all like “work, again...?”. Jasper then tries to make her dance with Guy instead of himself, and when she says she’s going to leave he grabs her arm. There’s a few choices you can make, but one of them is “Please let go of me.” And then! And then! This man literally looks at her and asks “Why?” Yikes!! And she asks why he’s asking why, and he says he doesn’t want her to go, so she agrees to stay a little longer. (Mistake #1) Then he shoves her off onto Guy again. After dancing with Guy she goes out to the balcony and runs into Aquia, and Aquia pricks his finger and it starts bleeding. She tries to look at it and it somehow brushes her lips and at that moment Guy and Jasper come out and ask what’s going on. Aquia apologizes (he did nothing wrong!! >:(  ) They then discover that Aquia’s wound has magically healed somehow. Then here’s the scene with  Guy: “That girl, I want to know everything about her.” Jasper: “Oh my, have you fallen in love?” Guy: “Something like that” Jasper: “Congratulations! We must celebrate this wonderful occasion!” Guy: “That’s enough now. Investigate that woman’s power.”

Chapter 7

No major changes between versions. But...Ughhhhhhhh. We’re gonna meet Sirius in this chapter. But first some humor. They go to the S rank lounge, I believe after the ball. Jasper offers to make coffee. Literally ALL the valets suddenly RUSH to Jasper’s side to ask him to teach them how to brew coffee. So there sitting in the S rank lounge with Jasper brewing coffee while all the other valets are like 👀👀👀👀 lmaoooo. Aight and so the humorous part ends there, sorry! That’s it! Now we must move on.  Fenn says he wants to go out drinking and asks Jasper if he’d like to join, Jasper declines saying he has other matters to attend to. We learn that Hawke, Jasper, and Lance are all drinking buddies. MC is all like “oh thank god, that means he does get time off!” -_- So then Toa laughs and comments how close Jasper and MC are, and is like “wow imagine using your valet for something like that” and then tells her that she’ll be a tool for Avari if she sticks with them, and that it’s not too late to switch to Qelsum’s side instead. (She does not switch. Mistake #2. Arguably her biggest mistake in this entire route, if you ask me.) Guy interjects and tells Toa that MC is his, and Toa is like “lmaooo then why does she seem closer with your valet than you?” and then they glare at each other. MC gets annoyed and leaves. Jasper asks where she’s going. She says she’s going back to her room to see Robin. For some reason, Jasper seems disappointed about this? Afterwards, she goes to her room for a bit but then decides to go explore the town with Robin. Uh oh! Robin goes missing.

She starts looking for Robin and runs into this sketch looking dude. He asks her where’s she’s going, she says she’s looking for her cat. He’s like “oh that flying thing?” and she’s like “Yeah!” and then is like “could you just tell me which way he was headed? I can get there myself.” but the guy insists that she should follow him instead, because the streets are dangerous and she might run into dangerous men. The man is then like “I’m Sirius.” (which, when I first read the Japanese, I thought he was saying “I’m serious” lmaoo) and then he frickin grabs her hand and drags her off!!! Yikes! 

Chapter 8, 1st Interlude, and Chapter 9 

Okay so we’ve got the most significant changes in these chapters. Like. A LOT. This is what the majority of my previous post focused on: the drugging, sexual assault, and morning after.  They basically did their best to make this consensual. It went very similar to what I had predicted, although played up a bit more cringe-y than I had expected...or maybe I just hadn’t thought about how cringe-y it would be. There’s literally so many changes that it’d be a bit of a pain to summarize all of them between the versions, I’m just going to put the actual dialogue/stuff from the stories for a lot of this so you can see the differences more directly. (The Japanese will be roughly translated by me, of course.)

Chapter 8

So Sirius starts walking and walking and walking and she asks where they’re going but he keeps insisting it’ll only be just a little longer or that it’s a shortcut and stuff. Ughhhhh...Then she’s like. This man clearly has no idea what he’s doing, I’m going to run away after all. But then he suddenly tells her they’re going to take a “break”. He drags her into the bar before she can protest or try to run. She tries to say no to a drink, but then he asks if she does drink and she’s like “well I do, but...” and you start seeing the differences here. In English she makes a comment of “Ugh, if only he wasn’t so charming.” Sirius further insists only one drink, even though MC tries to say she needs to go find Robin. He then just straight up orders drinks for them, despite her protesting. She then agrees, and then mentally apologizes to Robin. (Mistake #3) And we start seeing the biggest differences about right here...

For this chapter, let’s play a guessing game on which one is the Japanese version and which one is the English version, shall we? :)

Away from the table, Sirius plants a palm on the counter. Two of the usual are set out before him, bubbles frothing over the top. Sirius glances back and finds MC staring at the patterns in the wood grain. Sirius: Much obliged. Tavern Keeper: Mm-hmm. Scooping up the fizzing, popping tumblers, he tosses a wink at the tavern keeper. Then, he strolls back to spend time with his new friend. - Away from the table, Sirius plants a palm on the counter. Immediately two of the usual shot glasses are set out in front of him. Just to make sure, he looks back at MC, who is staring at the table. Sirius: Ah, thanks. Tavern Keeper: Mhm. Sirius skillfully drops the tablet he had hidden between his fingers into the shot glass of the opposite hand. Then, feigning a nonchalant look, he returns back to the table.

Did you guess which one was which in this part? :) And yes, my friends. In the fucking CANON MAIN ROUTE, it deadass has a line saying that our love interest puts a drug in our drinks. And yet...the Japanese fans still love him! Ugh. Also, that “skillfully” bit really concerns me. That kinda implies that he’s done it multiple times before, does it not??? Honestly I’m not really sure why it says it was a shot glass in the Japanese, though. I thought they were drinking like cocktails, not taking a shot. Maybe that’s why they changed that bit...? Now the stories are the same again for a tiny bit. Some time has passed that they’ve been in the bar/tavern and MC chugs her drink and slams it down on the table. She seems drunk. She’s rambling about Guy and Jasper. Like “I’m not an object!!” “and he’s like “Yes, yes, you aren’t an object.” then like “Who goes around saying stuff like “you are mine” and “give me your power”?? Like seriously! Who says that sort of stuff! It’s so messed up!” and he just listens along, amused. He then says that it’s good to drink sometimes, and she agrees, and then he asks what she wants to do. She notes how she’s only had one drink, yet her head feels a bit fuzzy already, and how it made her very talkative. She says she wants to go home. She reveals that her family died, and that she has a hair clip in her hair from her mom that’s very important to her. She mentions how there are still good people in this world, though.  Sirius tries to order her another drink, and here’s where stuff deviates again.

Sirius: Another of the same, if you please. MC: What, no! I’m fine MC: So hey, you’ve been fantastic company but I really need to go find Robin. (Man I got way too into that conversation.) (Robin must be out there looking for me.) MC: Thanks for the drink, though. You’re a really good listener. And also...really, really pretty. MC: It’s been great meeting you. Maybe I’ll see you around sometime? MC: Like...when I’m not looking for my cat. That’d be...nice.” (I have no filter. No filter whatsoever.) MC: Right, so...Bye... He stands up right as I do. The rickety old table wobbles between us and I pitch into his arms. Sirius: Steady on. Sirius: I might almost think you’ve fallen for me. (Fallen for him? But I’ve only just met the man.) Sirius holds me steady as I smile up at him, feeling silly but bold. He’s even more handsome up close. MC: Like I said, very attractive but...gotta go. Sirius: Hold fast. MC: Haha. Did you just pick me up?! Sirius hefts me into his arms like I weigh nothing, and for a moment I feel like I’m being carried off into the sunset. An electrifying thrill runs through me as I sway against him, adn then I realize we’re moving. MC: Where are we going? Sirius: ... MC: The look he gives me then makes my eyebrows shoot up. I nod and let him carry on. (English version, Mistake #4) When I next open my eyes, I’m being placed down on something fluffy. (I can’t believe I’m actually doing this. I should leave well enough alone but there’s something about him...) I peer at the unfamiliar ceiling overhead while Sirius stares down in my eyes. Sirius: No need to hurry. Sirius: The night’s just begun, after all. (Wait a second, aren’t you...?) The seductive smile on his face comes closer. For a split second he reminds me of someone, but it must be my imagination. - Sirius: Bartender, another of the same. MC: Ah, no, I’m good! MC: I really need to go find Robin. (Yikes, I got totally absorbed in that conversation.) (Surely Robin is looking for me, too) MC: Thanks...for talking with me...and listening... MC: Thanks to that I’ll be sure to...remember this... MC: From now on, I’m going...to study...more seriously...for sure.... (Wha...I’m so dizzy...) MC: Sorry...I’m...leaving now... Sirius: Whoa, hold on. MC: Ah... Unsteady on my feet, Sirius picks me up and holds me in his arms. I feel swaying and I open my eyes slightly. I’m being carried somewhere. MC: Where...are we going...? Sirius: ... Strangely, it feels like the ceiling has gotten awfully high... The next thing I’m aware of when I open my eyes is being placed down on something fluffy. (Where am I...?) I gaze at the ceiling above me and Sirius looks into my eyes. Sirius: Let’s take it slowly. Sirius: The night has just begun, no? (Huh...?) Laughing mysteriously, the man’s face comes closer. For a second, I think he looks similar to someone. But it’s just my imagination, right...?

I’m sure you can guess which one is which. One is extremely alarming, the other is cringe. It’s clear they did the most they could to try and make it consensual between them, and ended up doing exactly what I thought with having her make several comments about how attractive he is and then add some playful flirting between them. 😖 Alright! Ready for the next part? 

1st Interlude

I just read the normal first interlude in Japanese before typing out this post and...god, I thought the premium interlude was bad. So, one more time, trigger warning for sexual assault. Damn I really don’t want to write this part, I’m so tired from writing the rest TT (I saved this for last, unfortunately.) I’m not translating all of these so I’ll do a mix of translating exact lines and summarization. In all the stories, first she calls out Jasper’s name at first, confused, and then Sirius looks shocked. And she’s like, how weird, why would I call him that...he’s clearly Sirius...and then they all start to deviate. ><

Normal Interlude

Japanese version (this is the worst one): MC: I’m sorry...I must’ve gotten drunk, sorry for the trouble... Sirius: So you’re apologizing in this situation. (This...situation...?) He kisses her. (Wha...I’m being...kissed...) I’m aware of it, but my body feels so heavy, I can’t resist it. With my arms pinned to the bed, I’m forced to accept the kiss. He says “what is this power?” and then she sees an aura flare up around him. She asks if it’s magic, and he says that it’s interesting, and then asks if it has to do with the length of time or the type of physical contact. -- Sirius: Is it only your lips, or...? His finger runs along my knee, tickling it. With his other hand, he skillfully slips his hand into my shirt. Sirius: No need to be alarmed. Sirius: I simply wish to confirm. (Confirm...?) Sirius: So soft and smooth, you feel nice to touch. Sirius: But, I don’t feel anything from just touching you... Sirius: Is it different depending on where I touch? The sensation of him stroking my skin falsely spreads through my whole body while his fingertips make their way down to my lower limbs. I move my shoulders to try to tell him “I don’t want you to touch me!”, but it doesn’t matter as his fingertips continue to try to uncover something. MC: St...stop it... Yelling out makes him stop--at least, that’s what I had thought. However,  the thing that stops him isn’t my voice. He removes his hand that was feeling around in my shirt and then starts to think about something. (Is he...searching for something...?) Sirius: ...so it can’t be transferred through the skin, hm. (W-what...?) It’s finally over--is what I thought, at least. This time, he drops kisses on my ears and collarbone. When he puts his hands on my thighs again, I want to run away immediately. (Why...? Why is this happening...?) MC: Is this...is this a dream...? Sirius: Yes. It’s a dream. So, goodnight. Sirius: You’re about to reach the limit, aren’t you? (Limit? What is he talking about?) Even if I wanted to think about it, my head is too fuzzy and I can’t think of anything. I don’t like it, but...what is it I don’t like? Surely it was something important, but I can’t remember. Before I could say “I’m sorry, I’m really sleepy” my consciousness blacks out. She passes out and Sirius says something about how interesting it is, and that he must report his findings to Guy.

English version: MC: Sorry, I can’t believe I called you by the wrong name. Sirius: Is this the time for apologies? (I guess not...?) He kisses her. (We’re kissing. I’m kissing Sirius...) He’s certainly attractive enough. I’m not attached to anyone here, and yet...Why is it that I keep thinking of Jasper? He says “what is this power?” and then she sees an aura flare up around him. She asks if it’s magic, and he says that it’s interesting, and then asks if it has to do with the length of time or the type of physical contact. -- Sirius: Is it only your lips, or...? His fingers walk along my knee, tickling me. I shiver and grin as he gives me a considering look, then slips his hand inside my shirt. -- Sirius: I only wish to see what you’re capable of. (Strangest bedroom talk ever.) Sirius: You’re exquisite. Soft, smooth, perfect to the touch... Sirius: But I seek other responses. Sirius: Tell me, is this where you want to be touched? He peers down at me expectantly, hands petting along my skin as if to encourage me to speak. I squeeze my thighs together, hoping he’ll continue without the need for words. He raises an eyebrow. MC: Sirius, I need... At first I think the sound of my voice has given him pause. Then I realize something else has happened. He tidies my open shirt a little and frowns thoughtfully. (What is he doing? What is it he’s looking for?) Sirius: Hm, no transfer from the skin. (Uh, what?) My mouth falls open. Has the moment been ruined somehow? If so, what’d I do? But then he plants tiny kisses over my ears, neck, and cheeks. His hands sweep over me once more, but far more soothingly. Still, I can’t get the image of Jasper out of my mind. (I can’t be doing this. It’s not fair to be thinking of one man when I’m with another. I need to sort my head out.) MC: Sirius, I can’t do this. I’m...I think I’m developing feelings for someone else, so it wouldn’t be fair to you to do this... Sirius: Well, well. There’s an unexpected turn. ...All right. We’ll think of this as nothing more than a passing dream. Sirius: This never happened then. Good night, MC. (Good night? But we’ve only just...) Suddenly I feel very drowsy. A second ago I wanted nothing more than a crazy, one-night romp with a man who has crystalline red eyes. Now I can’t think of anything but how comfortable this bed is. She passes out and Sirius says something about how interesting it is, and that he must report his findings to Guy. --

Yikes!!!!! I was so shocked when I read the normal interlude!! Especially the Japanese version!! Now for the other one...

Premium Interlude

Japanese version:

MC: I’m sorry...I must’ve gotten drunk, sorry for the trouble... Sirius: So you’re apologizing in this situation. (This...situation...?) His voice is close.  But besides that, I don’t understand the situation very well. Sirius: Is it hard to open your eyes? MC: Yes... Sirius: I’ll make you feel better right now. (Feel better...?) She sees him put in eyedrops. She tries to ask but her voice is really quiet and her throat is dry. MC: Excuse me, could...could I have some water?”  Sirius: I’ll give you some right now I felt something cold touch my lips and water poured down my throat. MC: ...nng (No...it’s something else. I’m...being kissed...) I understand that, but, but I feel too drowsy to be able to resist.  With my arms pinned to the bed, I’m forced to accept the kiss. He says “what is this power?” and then she sees an aura flare up around him. She asks if it’s magic, and he says that it’s interesting, and then asks if it has to do with the length of time or the type of physical contact. (What...this kiss...) It’s a kiss that makes me feel as if I’ll be swallowed by the torrent of pleasure. (I’ve never experienced something like this...) Sirius: Ha...ahh... MC: ...mm, Sirius... His lips pull away with a wet sound and I sigh. Sirius: It’s as I thought... MC: Stop...it...already... Sirius: Shhh... Sirius: Be quiet. I’m going to make you feel better. He wipes his finger along my wet lips and pushes it inside my mouth. My shoulders jump and I shiver and inhale sharply, feeling like I’m being bitten on the neck by Sirius. MC: Mnn... Sirius: Suck... He moves his finger around my mouth and I move my tongue as I’m told. Sirius: That’s it good girl... Sirius: ...so it can’t be transferred through the skin, hm. (What...is he talking about...?) Sirius: How about...here? He removes his finger from my mouth and strokes my knee. MC asks if it’s a dream, and the rest of the interlude ends the same way as the normal Japanese interlude ends.

English version:

MC: Sorry, I can’t believe I called you by the wrong name. Sirius: Is this the time for apologies? (I guess not...?) I can almost feel his voice vibrate against my skin. Shivering at the sensation, I let my head fall against the pillows. Sirius: Would you rather keep your eyes closed at the moment? MC: Mm. yeah. I like the sound of your voice. It...reminds me of someone... Sirius: Then keep them closed. Sirius tells her to hold on a minute and puts in eyedrops. MC says her throat is dry and asks for some water. He gives her water, but she realizes that it’s not a cup but rather him giving her water from his lips. -- They kiss. (Who taught him to kiss like this?) It’s like some dam has burst within me and a tide of pleasure is threatening to sweet me away. (I’ve never experienced anything like this. Is this magic, too, or just him?) Sirius: Mm..Yes... MC: Ah...Sirius... A wanton moan escapes me as he gives me space to breathe. The thing is, in my mind’s eye I keep seeing someone else. Sirius: Quite as I suspected. MC: That was incredible. What was-- Sirius: Shh. Hush now. I’ll fufill that yearning of yours. He rubs his thumb against my dampened bottom lip then slips it inside my mouth. My shoulders jump as he moves his lips and teeth over my neck. Sirius: Suck. I obediently swirl my tongue over his thumb, taking it in further. Sirius: Good girl. -- Then she says she can’t do it because of having feelings for someone else, just like in the normal English and the rest of the interlude continues the exact same way.

I can’t believe Voltage was really like “hey, pay us and we’ll make the content less rape-y for you! :)” Big yikes lol. I’d only read the premium at the time of my original post, and I thought that was bad enough to write a post about it. That normal interlude though? YIKES. Like...gahhh I know I already said this same thing like three times earlier but I’m just so grossed out!!

Also, a quick note. The CG for this has Sirius laying on top of her while she has her eyes closed. This is because she’s UNCONSCIOUS in the Japanese version. I was wondering how they were gonna get around it, but like not long before it came out I was like “oh they can just have him comment telling her to close her eyes or something” and I guess that’s more or less what they did...?

Chapter 9

Okay so I realize I did make a slight translation error in my original post about the ninth chapter. She does indeed say “I don’t have a headache” rather than what I had thought it said which was “My head hurts, but it can’t be a hangover.”  which is what they went with in the English. “My head doesn’t hurt, though, which suggests I don’t have a hangover.” The rest seems about right, though. Anyways, so this chapter starts the morning after the events of the first interlude with MC waking up in the strange bedroom. While not technically as big of change as in Chapter 8 and the first interlude, this is also one of the most changed chapters between versions. 

The Japanese version:

(Where am I?) I open my eyes and am unable to move at first. ---- (Robin and I got separated in town...so I was searching for him) (And then...ah, yeah, I met Sirius) (He was showing me the way...and then there was that bar on the dark street where I was only going to drink one drink, and then...) .... ....... .......... “Shit, I can’t remember anything...” I’m not sure how I got to this room or what happened after I blacked out. My head doesn’t hurt, so it’s not a hangover.  I only had one drink, that’s the one thing I CAN remember. “No way...” Nervously, I run my hands down my body.  The hem of my shirt was untucked, all the buttons completely undone, and my skirt was rolled up past my thighs.  (I want to think it’s just from how I slept...I really want to think that, but...)  Being drunk can make you roll around and do that. I can’t hide how anxious I am about this unexpected situation. My heart thumps painfully in my chest and my legs shake. ---- (Huh? A tattoo?) I see Sirius taking a shower in the other room, with a tattoo spread across his back. (That would mean Sirius and I...) Looking at the bed with disheveled sheets, I wrap my arms around my body and hug myself tightly. “Maybe...maybe we just slept, that’s all...” (It’s a pitiful excuse, I know.) (Oh my god!! I need to go find Robin!!) Remembering something very important, she runs out of the room. ---- Sirius: “Ha, she ran away.”

English version:

Where am I? I open my eyes and stay perfectly still for the first few minutes. ---- (I got separated from Robin in town and while I was looking for him I, ended up lost.) (And then...Oh right, I met Sirius. Man, he was attractive.) (He was showing me the way, then we paused for a drink, and then...) Then...Hmm. What did happen? I’m drawing a blank here. “What the? I have no memory of last night.” I have no idea where this is or the events that led to me waking up here. There are flashes of groans and sighs, but that’s all. My head doesn’t hurt, though, which suggests I don’t have a hangover. Not that I’d expect to have one over a single drink, but I remember that drink being similar to a potion. “Uh-oh. Did I hook up with someone?” I carefully pat myself down. My shirt’s untucked, the buttons are undone, and my skirt’s hiked up around my thighs. (Then again, I could’ve just slept weird. Here’s hoping.) I’ve definitely rolled around in my sleep while drunk before. Still, I never thought I’d have to do a walk of shame in another realm. My heart pounds as I look around, trying to figure out who I spent the night with. (Did I somehow manage to book a room for myself? With what coin?) (It’s like everything that happened since I got here caught up to me all at once. What did I do...?) ---- “What was that?” (A tattoo? It was a gorgeous one, if so.) (The question is, how acquainted did I become with that tattoo last night?) The rumbled bedding comes back into view as I put my head in my hands. “Maybe we just crashed here together after our drink.” “...” (Pitiful excuse, but I’ll take it for now.) (Wait, Robin! Oh god. I have to go find him.) I run out of the room as soon as I remember. Given how little of the situation I remember, it’s probably better if we put that night behind us. ---- Sirius: “Alas. She has absconded.”

Then after she leaves, it goes about the same in both versions. She finds Robin at the gates, is rushing to Toa’s class, gets stopped by Jasper. His voice reminds her of Sirius. He then teases her for being late and is like “You said you were going to go back to your room last night, but it seems like you went out and had fun instead.” and she snaps at him and says she didn’t. He acts surprised. She apologizes and walks off, embarrassed. He laughs.

So. Yeah. One of them, MC wakes up confused after being drugged and raped and is trying to process that and then remembers Robin, runs back to the dorms, and has to deal with Jasper teasing her saying she went out and had “fun” which triggers extremely fresh, bad memories. While the other one...MC is like. Did I hook up with someone?? Whoopsies! Hm, I wonder how I did that. Oh but that Sirius guy was SO hot. Oh shit! I have a cat that’s missing! Gotta go. And then Jasper teases her but she just gets upset because she feels embarrassed about hooking up with someone. Neat. Also, what is with Voltage and their obsession with using “abscond”???

----

Are you feeling uncomfortable right now? A little horrified that Voltage would write a story like that, and romanticize it? Awesome! Me too! Let’s take a break here before moving on. Thankfully, the next parts won’t contain anything near as triggering as the first interlude and chapter 9. 

(Next post currently in progress, will add link as soon as possible! This is taking much longer than I thought it would to write;;;)

[himbeaux-on-ice]

Can I just say that Habs “fans” who act like Carey Price’s contract is somehow patient zero of all this team’s problems drive me absolutely fucking insane? Seriously. Buckle up. This is about to be a rant.

Now. First things first. Is it ideal that the $10 million goalie is currently uh, not doing very good? Fucking NO! I am disappointed as shit with that and I don’t like seeing him struggle. I know he can be better. He has to be better. Obviously.

However. That being said.

Do I think it’s an incredibly stupid look to spend several tweets complaining about all the issues Habs defence have been having, and then also griping that they haven’t started Jake Allen enough for how he’s performing, only to then for some inexplicable reason state that the FIRST THING, the first thing that needs to be dealt with after the new coaching staff have had ONE GAME (and zero practices) to work on things, is somehow “well, the ten million dollar man in net is weighing them down, that contract has gotta go!”?

Yes! That’s stupid!!

I think that’s a very ice cold small-brain take, and not just because Price is my favourite of favourites for as long as I’ve been a hockey fan! I have reasons, dammit!! I put THOUGHT into this!!

Here, dear ppl of Habs twitter who will never read this, are some reasons why this narrative you’re concocting is dumb, and why management/coaching are unlikely to think of trying to ditch Price mid-season to fix the current problems:

1: Time. It has been one (1) game under Ducharme. He has been able to run zero (0) full practices on off days with the team. We just changed up a major piece on the Habs chess board — why don’t you give it a minute to see what fresh eyes and minds can do with this roster before you decide we are fucked? This season is fast-moving, sure, but there is time for us to ride out some little bumps here and still make a playoff spot in this Canadian division. Have patience. Do you remember what patience is? Dom is a new head coach, not a wish-granting fairy godmother. Chill. Do you remember chill?

(rest of this under a cut because I actually LIKE Habs Tumblr, and I want to be nice to you all by not making you scroll past all of it if you don’t want to)

2: Jake Allen exists. There are a couple of things I like for what this means for the Habs. Firstly, for basically the first time in his NHL career, we are not in a situation where if Carey Price is in a slump, we have to go “Ah, shit, so now our options are let his stats tank while he tries to get the groove back in net, OR throw whoever the poor backup is out there to get murdered while we plummet through the standings.... 😬” We don’t have that problem right now, because the backup is... actually good? Oh my god, the backup is actually good! Thank fuck! We’re not doomed. If I’m Ducharme, I put Allen in net for a few consecutive starts to put a solid backstop behind all my fun experiments I’m probably planning with the skating roster (to catch their slip-ups, while also giving Carey lots of time and rest with which to work hard on sorting out whatever his issue is along with the goalie coaches).

2b: Jake Allen exists and is competition. Hell, if I’m Ducharme, maybe I even play a little hardball and say “Look, Carey, I don’t want you to be an expensive benchwarmer, but if things don’t pick up soon I am going to start whoever is doing best and you will have to compete for that net.” Related to my last point, when was the last time Carey Price had to push himself to compete for net time against anything other than his own injuries, and wasn’t simply always the default starter? Has that EVER been a thing? Honestly as much as I love the idea of him being The Goalie for the Habs, I also kinda like this idea a lot because I think it could really push him to a higher standard of performance. Maybe that kind of high-pressure situation (given how much he thrives in the pressure-cooker of the playoffs) could be what he NEEDS in order to Be Carey Price again. Worst comes to worst, he doesn’t respond to that challenge, and I am very sad but the Habs have a good goalie in net anyway, because Hallelujah, Jake Allen exists! God, isn’t it nice to have Jake Allen? Bless him.

3: Money. Guys, this league is so broke right now. Seriously. Seriously. Nobody has any fucking money. The Habs probably have more money than most teams, and that does not help when it comes to offloading large contracts. Trades are a NIGHTMARE both because of the flat cap but also because travel is complicated (especially cross-border) but also nobody wants to trade within their division if possible because all your games are against them. Who in the name of fuck do you think is jumping at the idea of taking the $10 million per through 20-lots-and-lots-of-years-from-now contract of a goalie who is currently struggling, impressive past record aside? What kind of astral plane of fantasy hockey are you on to think there’s a trade out there for that within this season. Shut up. And no, don’t bring up the expansion draft, this post is a rebuttal SPECIFICALLY to the people who think that Price and his contract are the biggest problem that needs to be dealt with RIGHT NOW and first on the list of ways to immediately remedy the team’s struggles.

4: Spite. Specifically to piss you off, bud. You personally.

5: Knowing how to troubleshoot properly. Fellas, if my computer is running slowly and freezing up a lot, do I immediately decide the first step to fixing it is to crack open the chassis, remove the hard drive, and try to sell that hard drive to someone to see if I can enough money back to somehow get a better hard drive for less? No, dipshit. That’s not how troubleshooting a complex system works works. It’s the same with hockey teams. Ah, my star goalie is not performing great. This situation is deeply less than ideal. If you’re actually good at troubleshooting, the first thing you do is not “WELL. I GUESS WE’LL HAVE TO THROW THE WHOLE GOALIE OUT. HE’S TOAST.” The first thing you do, if you’re a smart coach, is you say “Okay, what are my defence doing in front of him? What are they doing to reduce the amount and quality of our opponents’ scoring chances? Oh. Oh, they’re taking a lot of penalties, and... oh, uh, some of this is very not great. Yikes.” And then you start your work by trying to make the defence actually work instead of running the same Pairs That Everyone Is Very Much Over And Tired Of, because your goalie is actually supposed to be your Last Line of Defence. And maybe during that time you give more starts to Goalie Who Is Absolutely Slaying It, so that when you start trying new D-pairs and they inevitably have some mistakes, it doesn’t immediately turn into an Oh God Holy Fuck moment every time, because that last line of defence backstopping them is solid. The reason you need to deal with defense first is because a) You know you have a reliable goalie (Allen) in your pocket right now if you need him. What you don’t have is a whole-ass proven and tested and practiced Backup D-Core you can swap into the roster in front of your goalies to make their lives easier. Fix your defense and it WILL improve your goalies, even marginally. Defrag the hard drive before you ask why it’s not working. and b) If you need to go looking for any new D-men to solve the issues, those are WAY easier and cheaper to find than top-tier goalies, and you always want to start any troubleshooting process with trying the simplest solutions first to hopefully save time and money. The better that D-core is, the less it fucks your team over if the goalie isn’t feeling themselves, because the D is going to stop more of those pucks before they ever even become the goalie’s problem. FIX. DEFENCE. FIRST. Then try to train your goalie back into top form. THEN explore your other options.

6: The vicious cycle. Guys. We literally do this once every year or second year. EVERY time Carey Price has a slump, this fanbase gets into a tizzy like the Bell Centre is burning down and he was the one with the matches. And what ALWAYS happens literally within the year, every single time? He gets his mojo back like he did last summer in the bubble and goes on a heater and everybody goes “JESUS PRICE!!!! 🙌” and is ready to name their firstborn kid after him. Until eventually that performance becomes unsustainable, and he becomes mortal again, and suddenly he’s The Real Problem With This Franchise once again. I know he’s the guy they chose to build the team around instead of a superstar forward, but oh my god folks. You’d think he was the only player on the team. Guys, I feel like fucking Sisyphus pushing a blue blanc et rouge boulder up Mont Royal once a year with this shit. This man’s entire career has been a constant seesaw narrative between “Carey Price is our saviour!” and “Carey Price should be exiled to Nome!!!!” from parts of this fanbase, I swear. Look, slumps suck, but for once we are actually lucky enough to be in a position where this team, for the first time in YEARS, does not solelylive or die by the inscrutable magical cycles of Carey Price’s goalie powers — because when he has to step back and work to get back into his groove, there is FINALLY a SECOND GUY who is GREAT. Honestly, given that the state of this team for so long has been “they will go as far as Carey Price can take them” and he has put in a pretty fucking decent job of it despite all of the team’s other struggles, I feel like it is owed it to the guy to be like “Okay, well, we have somebody else solid to fill the net right now, and a chance to really figure out our defence and special teams with this new coach. Why don’t you take a step back and work your ass off at trying to get back into the form I know you can still perform at, and we’ll go from there?”

Anyway. Some parts of this fanbase have been waiting for a fresh excuse to claim Price is overrated, washed-up, and to blame for all of this team’s flaws and ills ever since he signed that contract, if not since the start of his NHL career. Just unreal how nasty some of this fanbase is willing to be about a player who is ON. YOUR. TEAM.

Am I saying he is beyond critique of his play and can do no wrong and his contract is perfect? No! I want this team to have the best goaltending it can get, and I want them to kick ass and take names. The difference is, I still believe Carey Price is a part of that winning formula, and I also think Twitter is overflowing with idiots who just repeat what everybody else says. He’s still a better goalie than your ass would be if I stuck you out there to stop shots from Mark Schieffle, for crap’s sake.

“The first thing that has to go is Carey Price’s contract 🤪”. Shut the fuck up. You are actively making other people stupider by talking. Go eat sand. Good day.

[sapphicdalliances]

Hi, Yuletide writer! First of all, my sincere apologies in my delay of getting this letter written up at all, and my enthused thanks for being here!

I’m a simple bitch with simple tastes; here is a general summary of my preferences, and fandom-specific notes and prompts can be found further down!

I very much enjoy:

Romance -- anything up to and including plotless shippy drivel

Short fics, or even collections of tiny fics

Long fics too, so I guess what I mean is, don’t feel pressured either way

Comedic tones, slice-of-life, lighthearted fun, any amount of improbable romcom tropes

Am also hella on board with misunderstandings, drama or angst as long as there is a happy ending!

I’m deeply okay with AUs, and most likely would be down for any modern, romcom, fantasy/fairytale, gender swap, or remix/crossover AUs you feel inspired to explore! My favourite settings include mundane/urban fantasy (witches! werewolves!), anachronism-stew-with-magic western fantasy jumbles, and disney’s Tangled.

Specific tropes I love:

Proposal fic

Wedding fic where the couple getting married is not the main couple

Outsider/third character POV of the main couple

Exes who are still in love/getting back together

Friends-with-benefits-with-feelings/did a bad job keeping it casual

Shipfic where two or more couples are contrasted

Oblique declarations of love/saying i love you without saying i love you

Provision and caretaking (acts of service!)

Aggressive matchmaking/wingmanning by an enthused friend

Hanahaki, or any other improbably dramatic instances of Cannot Spit It Out

Arranged marriage/fake marriage/fake dating

Epistolary fic

Regrettably I also love a/b/o, especially the kind that emphasises on scent safety and contains little to no actual sex

I’m not as into:

Political or social intrigue, mysteries, complex magical plots — by no means a dealbreaker, but not high on my list of priorities

Kidfic

First person narration

Soulmate AUs specifically

In general, please avoid:

Character death or serious/permanent injury

Animal abuse or death

Infidelity

Hopeless or downer endings

Fandom specific info starts here!

Princess Tutu - Ahiru, Fakir

I’ve loved Ahiru/Fakir for years and years — they are both very strong, willful but compassionate characters, and the way they intersect is just so sweet to me. While I would be ravenous for any tutu content, gen included, I really would be particularly delighted with some overtly shippy fic for this one, I hope that’s okay!

Suggestions:

Modern AUs: vet science major Ahiru + English major Fakir meet in theatre club?

Step Up-style remix where they become somewhat-unwilling dance partners because their regular partners are somehow indisposed and work better than expected

That one ending fix-it AU where Fakir writes her back into a girl and they retire into the village, the one we all have in our treacherous hearts, i will never get enough of these

Fakir and Ahiru’s relationship progression as observed by the other members of the school/town

Or mix it up with any of the tropes in my general list! For this ship, I would like a maximum rating of T, please!

Wotakoi

I love every ship in this manga equally but perhaps I love Kou/Naoya more equally than the other two? They are just so kind and so silly, and so sweet to each other in exactly the way both of them didn’t realise they were missing! Honestly, anything with these characters that’s along the lines of canon would be delightful; the particular energy of misfits realising that they don’t have to be alone is something very dear to me.

Suggestions:

Accidentally dating ft. Kou and Naoya, or, “and you’ve made out how many times now? Hmm. Yeah, that’s not technically a bromance.”

5 times Hirotaka and Narumi almost, almost kissed, and 1 time they did; the unresolved romantic tension may kill me and it would be worth it

What Hirotaka and Narumi taught each other (apart from the more mundane gaming and life skills, i believe that she taught him how to smile and be loved by others, and he taught her how to be loved by herself!)

Smutty domesticity ft. Koyanagi and Kabakura — a lazy Sunday, laundry in the sun, fucking on the couch, everything easy with familiarity

The fantasy/MMORPG AU, where Hirotaka is the lazy but brilliant crown prince, Naoya the hapless but beloved second prince, Koyanagi his spymaster and Kabakura the captain of the prince’s guard; Narumi his childhood friend-cum-betrothed, and Kou a mysterious archer who saves a distressed Naoya from bandits in the village?

The gang tries to play DND. We finally find a game that Naoya is good at.

Or mix it up with any of the tropes in my general list!

Nezha - Oubing

I feel 100 different ways about this movie and 88 of the ways are SO CHINESE. The filial piety, the familial sacrifice, the friendship! I do believe that Nezha and Aobing are in love, I hope this is a reading of the text that we share, but if not, gen about their friendship/rivalry would also be well-recieved.

Suggestions:

Aobing has been practicing bigu (a cultivation style that is meant to remove one’s need for food or water) since he was born; Nezha introduces him to food, and other creature comforts — do they have BEDS in the dragon palace for example?? Buddhist-style cultivation is very ascetic and difficult, but Nezha is so wild and full of feelings and love!!

Modern AU: delinquent Nezha and prim, proper exchange student Aobing

Modern AU addendum: nobody believes Nezha when he says he’s got a hot boyfriend in Taiwan and thinks that he has made Aobing up

Arranged marriage/political fantasy AU where the prince of dragons is given to the most controversial heavenly general in an effort to improve both families’ social standing

For a gen prompt, if you want to do something about Nezha and/or Aobing’s relationships to their fathers, debts and affections and resentments, that too would be lovely!

On the other end of the spectrum, i’m down for PWP with xeno tropes re: aobing’s dragon anatomy! So long as the top/bottom roles are not too strictly defined, i just like it when they’re equitable or switch!

And of course, feel free to mix it up with any of the tropes in my general list!

Kazetsuyo/Run with the Wind

I didn’t tag any characters because my favourites were not in the list, and of course because I do love everyone, but my personal priorities are in order: Shindo, Musa, Haiji, Kakeru, Nico-chan, Yuki, the bombastic twins, and then everyone else. The spaces between those positions are very small so if you happen to have a passion for a character/ship lower on the list, worry not, there is limitless affection within me for everyone!

Suggestions:

Shindo should get to take Musa to see the snow… he deserves that

He also deserves to run the ekiden again in his fourth year and not be sick and actually win section 5!

I do think Kakeru and Haiji are most definitely soulmates — if you choose to focus on one or both of them, I really do believe they are in the romantic kind of love, is the thing!

Perhaps their relationship, an inevitable drifting together, as perceived by everyone else in aotake?

Or Haiji comes to Kakeru’s graduation, all their tenderest affections still unspoken, and somehow, without any premeditation, by the end of the day they’ve kissed

You know what I think? I think Hana-chan likes and is capable of dating both of the twins, and I love that for her

Or gen canonverse with everyone (or just everyone you care about) taking turns caring for Nira and reflecting on the race!

As above, please feel free to mix it up with the tropes in my general list!

Gekkan Shoujo Nozaki-Kun

I only selected Seo and Waka because they are simply my top priority, but if you want to serve a side of Chiyo/Nozaki and/or Hori/Kashima and/or Seo and Kashima being beautiful best friends and/or Mikorin being a beautiful himbo who we are delighted to have here, i would not complain at all!

Absolutely anything about them being goobery oblivious idiots in love would be perfect, such as:

5 times they went on a date without realising, and the time they realised

Everyone else literally just thinks they’re dating and they are completely clueless

Or on the other end of the spectrum, everyone tries desperately to set them up/matchmake for them, not realising that they’ve been going steady for four months

A hanahaki AU would be particularly hilarious with these two, I feel

Urban fantasy AU where Waka is a hapless monster hunter and Seo is an annoying but deeply harmless werewolf who’s been terrorizing his town??

Regency or faux-regency AU where Waka is literally like “drive by your rival’s estate slowly so that she may seethe with jealousy at the loveliness of your new hat” and Seo is like “oh goodness, he is courting me. What a fool. What an absolute buffoon.” and challenges him to a swordfight

Fairytale AU where Seo believes she must rescue the prince from the tower and deliver him back to the kingdom capital, and the prince, who had not realised he’d been kidnapped, thinks Seo is a usurper from a rival kingdom who must be supervised all the way back to the kingdom capital to be served her justice

Or anything else equally romcom-y, and of course, as always, throw in as many tropes as you like!

Thank you for reading this whole mess of a letter, and I sincerely hope I haven’t bored you too much. The most important thing to me is that whatever you end up writing, you are able to enjoy the process at least somewhat, and deliver a fic that you like! I can also be found on twitter at @hawberries_ (for art) and @popplioikawa (for general ramblings), and if you have any desire to send an anon ask to this tumblr with questions, i’m actually not sure if that’s allowed but i’d be happy to get some! Thank you again, and happy holidays!

[cosmosogler]

i’m gonna start a half hour early because i ain’t got nothing better to do. if i got out my homework... i’d only be working on it for 25 minutes anyway. that’s barely enough time to even get back on the same page as the assignment, mentally.

i felt super sluggish today... i still didn’t even clean the apartment. i took out the trash at least. and found two places where snoopy pooped last night and cleaned those up over the course of the day, as the smell continued to not disappear.

even waking up was kind of awful. i didn’t get out of bed until 8:20. i showered... slowly... and then figured i’d be over to campus around 10 and get some homework and grading knocked out. 

ha ha ha.

i dunno. i didn’t even eat breakfast. i just didn’t want to do anything. it’s so much work to do things. doing nothing is... automatic, i guess, at this point. 

i don’t want to say it’s easy, because panic attacks and avoidance aren’t really particularly easy, but. it’s easier. less risky. i don’t like to gamble.

so i got over to campus around 2 instead, without packing a main course for lunch/dinner because i just couldn’t seem to get the jam out of the fridge when i looked at it.

as i biked and didn’t perk up i realized i wasn’t going to get much done today... i brought my desk lamp over to campus at least and got it assembled. then i worked for three hours but somehow managed to only finish one classical problem and finished ONE SINGLE PAGE OF GRADING FOR ONE SINGLE SECTION. it is a 10-page lab. i am two pages in. i have 9 full labs to grade before friday.

luis eventually told me i wouldn’t get fired if i didn’t have the grades done on time and to focus on homework. but i couldn’t. no matter how many times i looked at the question it wasn’t making any sense at all and i couldn’t figure out where to start. i guess i just figured any explanation from suzanne wasn’t going to help with that. it may have been a bad assumption. but i just couldn’t get the wick lit on this homework candle and i didn’t want to stumble through some baby steps in front of all my friends.

eventually i took a break to complain on tumblr. then i started feeling REALLY bad. i waffled about whether or not to go home for about 30 minutes and then i packed up my stuff in the hopes i’d do something at home and got on my bike and found myself out on the road. the past few minutes dropped away and i felt really disoriented and my brain was like “oh. i guess this is what i am doing now.” 

when i got home i wasted a little more time and then i sucked it up and called the crisis center. “hypothetically speaking, how would a crisis call go?” i asked the person who picked up. she said we’d see how i was doing and take it from there. 

i noticed she only rephrased stuff i said back at me. noticing it irritated me but i decided to try to make use of it. hearing how i sounded like i was feeling back at me helped me kind of settle down, sort of, not really. she had to put down the phone a lot to answer other people. i scrolled through my emails miserably and waited. when she picked up again i asked how she was doing. i wavered between crying and not crying. 

when i said i should probably make some dinner she said “i’ll always be here for you.” 

i said “ehh, someone will.” 

maybe some other people find that comforting. i know she won’t actually always be there, because people have careers and i am one of dozens who have called her. she asked for my number so hopefully she won’t call me during class tomorrow. if i miss a call that might be worrying for the mental health place.

she didn’t tell me what her name was. probably should have asked. didn’t think of it. that probably happens a lot. random people call and talk about their problems and then hang up and she just tells them what they just said to her.

i guess i felt like i was wasting her time because, like, i don’t panic the same way as most people? so she took other calls. i really was feeling very bad. i just couldn’t, i guess, make myself seem as bad as i felt. as i feel. i don’t know.

maybe they were overloaded?

i don’t think there is anything someone could really say to me that would make me feel better. i guess i just need to know it’ll be ok. but there isn’t really a way to know and anyone who tells me that exact phrase sounds condescending to me.

i ended up not baking any muffins again. i feel like that should have been a commitment for me. but i just couldn’t seem to get them out of the pantry. i put them in front of my snacks so i don’t forget i have the mixes, but... ehhh. 

maybe someone else can make it ok for me?

because i am having so much trouble getting up to keep going this weekend. this past week. since last friday. work is such a slog that i can only seem to grade eight pages of my labs in 45 minutes. as in, one page of 8 labs. as in, eight pages total. as in, there are 18 students in that class and 10 pages in the lab and 3 sections of the class. and then six more of those.

let alone actual schoolwork, which is actually hard and can’t be done on autopilot. i was having so much trouble understanding the questions on the labs today though that it was just, really slow going. like “how does the velocity change on your graph?” didn’t make any sense to me for several minutes straight, EVERY TIME I SAW THE QUESTION, WHICH WAS EIGHT TIMES.

i asked to have e&m off on monday so i can sit and work without being interrupted tomorrow. but we really do have another test on friday. i can’t... 

i have to keep hoping i’ll feel better tomorrow. i never do actually feel better, these last nine times, but maybe a tenth time... and in the meantime, everything in my life piles up until even when i feel better i have to work so hard to catch up that i exhaust myself and feel bad again. gotta keep pushing that boulder up the hill. 

i took an online quiz that i found on facebook while i was in the 10 minutes between work sessions this afternoon. it was like one of those “which career is best for you???” tests. 

i got engineer. “sharply intelligent and endlessly determined, you work best against impossible challenges.” 

it was pretty similar to what the person who’d posted the quiz got, and she did not get the engineer result. horoscopes can be encouraging i guess. it felt like static in my head.

i don’t FEEL determined. i don’t FEEL hopeful or capable or creative.

i mean i usually don’t feel anything but “kind of bad i guess” or even sometimes “oh god why” on special occasions so i might not be the best source for what those things feel like. i barely even register real, physical sensations and you want me to figure out mental ones? 

(this is a ding-dong journal.)

i think i might not be getting enough sleep. i keep seeing stuff that isn’t there. i feel strongly that there is someone standing behind me when i am alone in my apartment and i see the barest hint of a figure in my peripherals. it only lasts a second but it kinda freaks me out. in the reflection on my mouse’s track ball i saw something moving and thought it was a hand but it was actually my fan spinning around.

maybe my hair is getting too long? the curls fall in my face pretty easy. i want to cut it, but i never like how it looks until it gets a little scruffy again.

i want to say more but i can’t really figure out how to say it. i can’t imagine feeling better, or what my life would look like if i did feel better. i can’t imagine feeling better even if someone waved a magic wand and did fix everything. i can’t imagine things going the way they are for too much longer. i can’t imagine anything in my future. i want to work in a lab... with a team... but i don’t know what that looks like or how to get there or even what direction to go in to make that happen.

i know i’m broken but i can’t figure out how to fix it. i know i didn’t learn a bunch of lessons i needed to as a kid, and i learned a bunch of not helpful lessons, but i can’t figure out how to learn these new ones or put in the work needed to make them real.

i feel... unfinished. i know we all die unfinished and in the middle of everything and whatever but i feel like i didn’t start with all the tools that most people get. so many people my age talk about sexual relationships. i don’t want that. so i’m missing that.

my heart wasn’t finished when i was born. so i was missing that. for ten years.

my hormones don’t work. like, at all, any more, though they were shaky to begin with. so i am missing that.

i don’t have any strength or stamina even when i get enough exercise. i am missing that. my bad heart made everything grow not as good as a kid. i’m missing a couple inches too.

i’m not strong. i wish i was stronger, because i have to be strong to succeed, in grad school, in not letting people push me around, but i can’t be. i didn’t get to grow up that way. i didn’t get to make any roots so my branches could get big.

so i’m missing that too.

with all that i’m like half a person. i don’t even have feelings right. never did, honestly. always had anger issues.

now i ain’t got a gallbladder either. or wisdom teeth, but that’s kind of normal.

i feel like i don’t have the ability to gain anything. i guess it comes down to that. life got harder around me and i didn’t get better at dealing with it. so when i looked like i was so far ahead of everyone else in kindergarten i just actually was born at my max level for intelligence and strength and social ability and whatever. so while other people were climbing their ladders i was just at the top of my very, very short ladder. my footstool. 

maybe that’s why i can’t get better, from my depression. i’m already at my best. this is as good as i’m gonna get! must be rough for other people to watch. or satisfying, maybe. the kid who was always ahead the first six years gets left behind. 

(i wasn’t even ahead the first six years, i had serious emotional problems, ha. and a staunch refusal to acknowledge that i had a body i had to take care of.)

so maybe that’s it. i don’t know how to not be in pain. i don’t know if that’s something you can even learn. i don’t know how to not feel muddled and confused. because when things get clear, it usually means i only think i understand, and don’t actually, and then i make a huge mistake. unacceptable mistakes. unforgivable mistakes.

good thing time, i guess. it’s 10:30. so i’ve been writing for an hour actually. glad i started early so i could start writing, get distracted for 15 minutes, and then come back and stare at the last sentence i had written for another 10 minutes, and then try to start again.

did you like that mental breakdown i had yesterday? that was interesting. and by interesting i mean not boring. i said a bunch of stuff i actually meant. i guess i had to have a little honesty in order to cancel out all the sarcasm harrison and jennica think i am doing during the day. 

i am worried. about people seeing what i think. about, like, religion. i don’t like talking about how confused and guilty i feel about that. i mean i joke about christians and can be kind of mean about it which is not always warranted. but i do feel like i’m not a real buddhist and i’m not allowed to be because... i dunno. i’d be taking something that isn’t mine or something. i’m not a stealer.

but then i remembered that like one person reads these and i felt a little better. hi, dude!!!!!!!

i am not sure how to close out this post. i wish i had someone i could actually talk to about this stuff. maybe someone who knew what to do. i feel trapped. locked in. and it’s my fault for being here because why didn’t i just learn how to pick the lock, dumbass? 

i can’t make anyone do anything. i accept that. though i wish i could make my parents stop hurting me and my siblings. the way to do that would be to hide, i guess. but i can’t even do that.

but i do wish i could make myself do things. i wish i didn’t feel so sleepy in 90% of my too-stressful situations. i wish i didn’t dissociate and do things automatically, or not at all. i can’t control anything outside of me at all. but i should be able to control myself. except i can’t. i never could control myself well enough. 

i know that’s not why i got hit as a kid but it sure feels like that’s what got me in trouble all the time once i was not a small, easily-hittable child. i got hit because mom was angry and incapable of handling children. but i didn’t have any ability to change that. the only thing i can do is change myself.

and i can’t even do that!!!!!!!

ok anyway it’s my stop time. something positive........ i........... check in on other people when i’m feeling bad? i guess? is that something positive or is that bad? is it up to me? i don’t think i can make a decision about whether it’s good or bad if it is up to me.

i’m gonna stick to my schedule and go to bed. over an hour earlier than last night... so at least (”at least”) i’ll kinda be back on track schedule wise. i will try to heat up some soup and use my thermos for lunch tomorrow. i got no-chicken noodle and that always makes me feel better.

[alkaloidwitch-blog]

Practical Spiritualism for Skeptics

or, "I don't believe in Spooky Shit but I'm having a Spooky Experience and I don't know what to do!"

My friend who isn't a witch or anything Like That had a spooky experience just recently. She got locked out of her empty house, while she was in the front yard, and had no explanation for the event more rational than "ghosts??" which she doesn't believe in. There probably is a rational explanation, but she doesn't know what it is and she very plausibly never will; either way, she still has to deal with being freaked out in the present.

Now, as it happens, I have a lot of experience with that sort of problem! I'm a witch, yes, but I'm also a skeptic; I don't think any of the stuff I do or interact with as part of my witchcraft is 'real,' at least not the way rocks are real. And when I was a kid, I had what I knew to call 'an overactive imagination,' which nowadays I call 'psychosis'- hallucinations and delusions. I would see and(/or) become inflexibly afraid of things that on a rational, intellectual level I knew were not real; monsters don't exist, the dead do not rise. But just because I knew it wasn't really happening didn't stop it from happening to me; you can't logic your way out of a weird brain. And for a long time, I was stuck there! I couldn't acknowledge the fake-not-real things that were happening to me, because that would somehow mean I was ‘admitting’ they were real-not-fake.

But it's not that simple, of course. Even the 'sane,' with nothing unusual about their brain, hallucinate sometimes; and people believe things that are provably untrue all the time, likewise without anything wrong with their brains. People just aren't rational creatures with perfect access to the real state of the universe, even when we try to be, and we don't have to think our problems are based in reality to want to do something about them. If a problem is irrational to start with, an irrational solution may be in order. It certainly helped the fuck outta me.

So here's my argument for why skeptics might, sometimes, want to look into spiritualism or other folk esoteric traditions:

Something scary is happening to me that I have an irrational explanation for, but no rational alternative.

Either what I'm afraid is happening is really happening, in which case:

there may be a real solution to this real problem, and if there is you may as well look to what other people have done for that.

Or this is all in my head, in which case:

anything I do that makes me less afraid is an appropriate solution to the problem, even if it doesn't really 'make sense'; and

anything that makes me more afraid, including pretending I'm not afraid and that I understand what's going on, is going to make the problem worse.

We're skeptics; we rule out case 1, barring really good evidence (i.e., better evidence than our own fear). But that doesn't mean the solution to case 1 can't be helpful for case 2. You live in a culture where people kinda-sorta-sometimes believe in irrational things, and you are also afraid of that irrational thing, and the cultural knowledge you share with believers in the irrational may be helpful!

(Disclaimer for the following section: I'm a white American, and most of the advice I have to offer you comes from the European folklore I learned. If this stuff isn't relevant to you, hopefully reading it will give you an idea of the kinds of superstitions you do know that can give you a sense of control when something Spooky is-or-isn't happening.)

Practical advice

There’s some good mundane things you should do anytime you have an Irrational Problem, or anything involving your state of mind- open curtains or turn lights on to improve lighting, clean any clutter, fix anything that could give you perfectly reasonable anxiety (unbalanced piles, open cupboards- that’s an actual folklore thing, at least for the Scotch-Irish). Attend to your hygeine, make sure your environment sounds and smells pleasant. Sleep if you haven’t been, and consider that your real life problems can come out in Irrational ways.

Traditionally, not every 'scary' folkloric creature necessarily has it out for you. A ghost might have the folkloric power to do something freaky like throwing your shit around or locking your front door, but that doesn't mean it wants you dead or even particularly dislikes you. If you're alone, or with people who understand why you're doing it/are also freaked out, try talking to your Irrational Problem.

Maybe introduce yourself, to be polite; just because it isn't real doesn't mean you feeling like you've been polite won't calm you down.

If it 'does something' obnoxious, tell it to stop.

Ask it what it wants.

Look for signs that it's talking back; of course, it is not, but just as perfectly mundane things can be misinterpreted to make you afraid of something that isn't real, misinterpreting perfectly mundane things to make you less afraid is also possible.

Most Christians (or cultural Christians, here meaning 'people raised Christian who may-or-may-not actually believe') that I know have the idea that the Lord's Prayer (from Matthew 6:9-13) can make unclean spirits fuck off. Did someone actually teach us this? Did we just pick it up from horror movies? Either way, it is in fact a longstanding tradition in Christian spiritualism, and so if you learned the text and said it a lot in a religious setting and have this cultural idea that it'll help, repeating the Lord's Prayer may solve your Irrational Problem. (If you're not Christian, but you don't have a suitable substitute, you can use it too as far as I'm concerned.) Here's the version that has the most resonance for me, but feel free to substitute your own nostalgic version:

Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on Earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil, for thine is the kingdom, the power, and the glory. Amen.

There's stuff in your house that can traditionally be used to make spirits (or whatever) fuck off.

Throwing spilled salt over your shoulder prevents the 'bad luck' spilling it causes; salt is nearly universally kinda magic. If you saw Hocus Pocus, you saw Allison throw salt around herself in a circle; a bunch of folklore beasties can't cross a line of salt. Put it at doors, on windowsills, anywhere that seems intuitively like something could 'come in' through there to keep things out. (Sweep it up if necessary, and try to keep it inside- magic may not be real, but salting the earth is a very real tactic of war.) Dissolve the salt in water for a subtler effect- paint it where you would otherwise leave a line, or flick it from your fingers onto/near any object that's involved in your Irrational Problem- if, for instance, you've got a creepy bit of decor your landlord won't let you get rid of.

Black pepper, and by extension anything else spicy, is good for banishing things. Garlic repels the undead. Make something spicy for dinner and think real hard about how it's gonna make that spooky shit fuck right off.

If you grow your own herbs and are interested in drying some, anyplace you'd leave a line of salt and perhaps any doorway is a good place to hang some nice pungent herbs to prevent your Irrational Problem from getting in.

Similarly, you can always write something to the effect of 'get out and stay out' on a piece of paper and leave it hanging near doorways. Specific cultural traditions dictate particular things be written on this kind of paper charm- in Europe it's often Biblical text and arcane symbols. If you need to be discreet, put something else over it so other occupants and visitors don't get suspicious.

You may have seen that Tumblr post about banging pots and pans and telling a ghost to leave. That was funny, right? It was also serious. Making lots of noise is, in fact, a traditional way to get a haunting out of your house. If your neighbors would complain about obviously extraneous noise, practicing an instrument or blasting music is a fine alternative.

You could carry a candle around your house, through every room, again focusing on making that spooky shit leave. If you have anything that produces more smoke than a candle, that's traditionally even better. If you're okay with smoking inside- regardless of what it is you're smoking- try getting a little bit of smoke in every room. You don't have to set off any alarms or make your house permanently smell like smoke, it's symbolic. (Getting smoke near things is also good for creepy decor you can't get rid of.)

If it's not a big deal to you that your Irrational Problem leaves, as long as it stops fucking with you, there's a number of folklore creatures that accept tribute.

Milk is traditional for fairies.

Some traditions- the ones I can think of are from the African diaspora, so tread carefully here if that's not your background (magic is a cultural tradition, and people may have perfectly good reasons to be miffed about you using theirs)- leave alcohol out. Keep in mind, though, that in the traditions I'm thinking of alcohol gives spirits a great deal of vitality, so this might be best if you've already established a more-or-less friendly relationship with your Irrational Problem.

A bowl of candy would probably work just fine, and wouldn't alarm anyone else who happens to see it. Humans consuming it isn't usually an issue- across many traditions, tribute is often consumed by spirits-or-whatever indirectly through animals or people. Just replenish it if it empties and the Irrational Problem raises its ugly head.

If the thing that spooks you is out of your house- for instance, you get that pesky sense you're being followed (and do make sure no-one's actually following you, because being stalked is an entirely other advice category)- there are a number of things you can do on the go.

Cross yourself, if that's relevant- the traditional way to do it is to tap your forehead, your solar plexus, your non-dominant shoulder (i.e., left if you're right-handed, right if you're left-handed), and your dominant shoulder with your dominant hand. If you're iffy about using a cross, feel free to improvise a different gesture incorporating another shape.

The horned hand, known variously as the main cornu, 'rock on' gesture, 'hook 'em horns' if you are an Aggie (Texas A&M) or know some, the ASL sign for ILY (variant with the thumb extended)- that is, with the middle finger and ring finger flat against your palm, thumb either against the middle two fingers or extended, and the index and pinky fingers extended straight out- protects against the evil eye, and may be useful to you as a general protective gesture.

A wide variety of European folkloric creatures, including both vampires and fairies, are compelled to stop and count anything you throw in front of them. (This is where the Count from Sesame Street comes from.) Grab some sand/dirt/rocks, rip up some grass, grab pine needles as appropriate, and throw 'em on the ground. Over your shoulder is traditional, especially while crossing a symbolic or literal threshold/boundary delimiter.

If you happen to be able to cross running water to get where you're going, that'll also stop a certain class of beastie.

Carry something lucky- a rabbit's foot, real or fake; a four-leaf-clover charm; a pendant or charm to protect against the evil eye; your favorite patch-covered jacket, with the addition of a patch you made for yourself that to you means luck or protection. Touch the lucky thing when the Irrational Problem looms.

If you have something an ex, or an ex-friend, or anyone you've cut ties with gave you, and looking at it or thinking about it makes you sad or uncomfortable- get rid of it, or perhaps even destroy it. It certainly won't hurt any Irrational Problem you're having to not have things that get you lost in your unpleasant memories around.

(Apologies to my witchy followers- I am not usually so dismissive about the existence of esoteric stuff that I don’t, personally, believe to be real-like-rocks-are-real, but I’m aiming at a different audience. Feel free to reblog this if you’d like a quick reference for your skeptical friends!)

[artgirllullaby]

Chapter 11: After Shattering

I keep my word... Sometimes... Oh well.

Notification to @ladyxgilex and @justyouraveragefangiri that read in time to get notification for this one comming up lol

And btw it’s too soon to hate Marco, Calm down and try to undertand the boy.

I hope you guys enjoy (And if your tissues are over... get more)

Chapters: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20

You can read Ever After at Ao3 | FF.net | DeviantArt and on Tumblr, feel free to go read where it pleases you the most :)

Chapter 11: After Shattering

“Dammit, that came out wrong!” Marco exclaimed while face-palming.

How did things get this complicated?! He didn’t mean to say any of that, but the wrong words were slipping out of his mouth in the wrong way in the wrong situation. Everything was so wrong; he was wrong! Marco felt like it didn’t matter what he says he would only mess up even more.

Marco was shocked to hear those words from Star, in a good sense of the feeling. It was indescribable what he felt… It was wonderful to hear the princess confess to him; once he really understood that she was serious about her feelings… He felt like fireworks were exploding on his heart and “We are the champions” was playing on full volume on his mind while he could – finally – kiss Star out of her senses.

Then he felt his feet on the ground. He was with Jackie; the girl he had spent most part of his life dreaming to be with. Now that he lived it, he realized that it was much different – it wasn’t bad, just different from what he thought it would be. Marco needed to know how to deal with her first before taking his chance with Star.

But from the moment he opened his mouth to speak, he somehow knew things would go really bad.

He overreacted. He didn’t even know what had driven him into it, but somehow he was attacking Star with everything that happened, she was attacking too on her defense, he was hurting her and she was hurting him… Just, why?

He didn’t know. Marco was lost on everything that happened the past weeks and let himself to be carried away into whatever that fight would be called. Every part of his body told him to stop, but his mind went on. He could feel how things were about to break; he could feel their bond shattering. He didn’t know what it was, but he felt it coming; Marco felt the hurt, pain and tears, agony and fear…

Marco was scared on how things would turn out to both of them if he said ‘Yes’; Marco was scared on how it would go if he said ‘No’. And somehow, while trapped in between, he did worse.

He said never.

When the words slipped from his mouth, he immediately regretted. It wasn’t meant to look like they did, at all! On the next second he felt something heavy on his chest, it troubled his breathing and his heart beats, he felt her hurt and sadness, then he felt the weight of his guilty. It wasn’t fair any of that was fair to Star!

Even if was hard breathing with that thing on his chest, Marco decided that he couldn’t be silent. He had to try fix the things, or at least try to. Because he felt like whatever he and Star had – Friendship, relationship, lust, love or whatever – Was slipping through his fingers like water, and if he let it happen, it would be lost like the last droplet of water in the desert.

He wouldn’t survive.

“I mean…” He tried to speak, clutching his chest while Star still with eyes on the floor “Is that even allowed? You’re a princess and I’m just a guy… I have nothing to offer you or Mewni; and we are from different dimension, would anyone allow that? How it would work? We would have to give up living in one of them or there would be no problem in traveling to both all the time? And…”

Marco knew he was rambling again, but he couldn’t help it, he had to say something! He had to fix the situation!

He frowned when suddenly there was nothing to feel. There was no weight, pain and he could breathe… Why something was still stinging then? Why it felt like something was wrong? Why he felt empty?

“Star…” Marco called, afraid that if he took a step she would run away yet again since this all begin “Please, look at me… Talk to me, please…” He pleaded, but she kept looking at the ground; then she looked at the Wand “Let’s just talk ok? I’m sorry I screamed at you… It’s just too much and complicated, I also need to talk with Jackie before trying anything with you, I don’t want to hurt her feelings; I’m just confused…” He went on rambling again, scared that she would run away and things only get worse, but at this point he could not blame her for leaving him in the open.

“Marco…” She finally said, Marco stopped talking and let a small and hopeful smile escape his lips. It was shortly lived as all she said was “I’m leaving.”

He sighed. The bad omen he felt was ringing louder, something within him screamed that things would only get worse if he let it go; that he would regret even more if he run away before telling her…

Telling her what?

He made enough damage into their friendship, on her and on him, and had no idea on how deep it was or whatever. Marco just couldn’t risk anything else. He had to be absolutely sure before saying her anything, even if all he wanted right now was to hold her close and repeat those words into her lips until she believes him and understand that it was a misunderstanding.

But he can’t. Because he feels, he knows that she’ll break on the slightest touch from him, that’s she’s too fragile and hurt… That he was the one who did this to her. And he has no right to say otherwise or to ask anything from her in that moment.

Scratching his neck, his eyes went to the starry sky “Ok. Maybe it’s better for us to chill out and talk later” He didn’t want to, but Star made clear she wanted to be alone for a while, and this time, he shouldn’t follow at any circumstances.

“No.”

Her answer was so short and quick that it felt like a bullet on him. His mind screamed “Danger! Danger! May day! May day!”, but he hadn’t time to complain.

Star turned around, raising her arm and calling an enchantment. Marco closed his eyes at the brightness of the magic; when he looked again, there was a portal in front of the princess; her golden hair and dress was waving gracefully on the wind and she waited for something. Should he say something? He was waiting her to say something, he said too much so he wanted to keep it shout for now before he blew their relationship once for all. Star turned around just to look at him one last time.

Marco could swear his own heart broke when he saw her face.

Her eyes were the the pure mix of hurt and sadness, shining as a tear slides down her cheek. Her cheek marks of hearts are gray, a lifeless gray that would have scared him a lot more if wasn’t another concerning fact on them…

Star hearts marks were cracked.

The panic rising on him mixed up with dread. They both stood there for a moment, he doesn’t know what to do; he hurt her to the point her marks were also affected, that never happened before. The fright on his veins makes him feel cold and his frozen bones made him unable to move. Star was expecting something from him and he couldn’t move, Marco knew that any movement, a word and it would break.

And this time wasn’t a heart or friendship, it was them.

A tear slide on her cheek, he could feel as it was his own heart there at the moment the tear was passing on the cracked heart and it broke. The marks were shattered. They were broken. The silence was the end for both of them and whatever they had.

“Goodbye, Marco.”

Those were the last words from Star, before she got into the portal and disappeared with it.

As soon as her presence vanished, the ground had disappeared, suddenly air wasn’t all he needed to breathe, the world was spinning around him, he felt colder than never and all his mind could think of was “She’s gone”.

And Marco knew that wasn’t any good.

But what he could do? He already did harm enough and she had the right to get away from him, this was the one time she has reason to run and he couldn’t ask for otherwise; the one time she was the right in running away from this; she was hurt...

He hurt her.

He messed up really bad.

With a sigh, Marco decided to go back into the Ballroom. He didn’t remember getting his tuxedo, but he felt on him anyway. His legs moved to went to the table where his friends were, his mind was still lost into everything. Marco let his body fall heavily on a chair, elbows on the table and hands on his face. Could regret kill someone? Because if it could, then he was in serious danger.

“Marco? Are you alright?”

He looked up to meet Jackie’s eyes. If he wasn’t so desolated, he would feel shame to think she was there and moments ago all he wanted was to be with Star. This could count as cheating? He thought so, after all, he was still her boyfriend and as such, he should be loyal on mind body and… Soul.

But why that seemed so extreme when he thought about it with Jackie?

“I messed up” He said and went to his previous position again “I messed up really bad.”

The others appeared too, Jackie took a seat beside him, Janna did too, Ferguson and Alfonso stood close by.

“What happened?” Alfonso asked.

“Star confessed to me” he replied, there was no use in hiding from them and he was too tired to think on an excuse “I overreacted.”

A few gasps and a deception “Oh…” were heard, but he didn’t look up to see their reaction. They seemed uncertain about how to speak about it or to leave it alone, it was an uncomfortable atmosphere; he couldn’t care less…

Janna was the one that decided to go on “Why you overreacted?”

“I don’t know!” Marco exclaimed in frustrated “I’m trying to understand why I reacted to her like that! I mean, I know I was scared and shocked, but I didn’t have to say anything I said!”

By her voice, Jackie frowned in worry “What did you say?”

Marco couldn’t kept quiet anymore, he got up and begin to pace beside their table “I said I was with Jackie, I said I didn’t know what to think of it, that it was impossible and that Mewni was her home- Oh God, why did I said that?!” He passed his fingers on his hair to try calm down. “I didn’t mean like that! It just came out completely wrong!”

Marco rambling ended up in him telling them everything it happened on details. Sometimes Janna would groan on his stupid attitude, Ferguson and Alfonso were tense little by little (He felt like they were about to smack his head on a rock – and sincerely, he deserved it). He was so into telling everything he forgot Jackie’s presence there, and she stood there, listening quietly every word from him.

“I just don’t know what to do! She has all the right to stay away and I don’t want that; I need to solve this, but… I’m just lost and I’m afraid I just make it worse.”

Janna snickered at him “To begin with, you could answer her. Like, the real answer”

“Yeah, man” Alfonso agreed “You two have been hanging on each other for the longest time, what’s wrong?”

“I just…” Marco grunted pulling strands of his own hair “I’m confused, I’m scared, I’m compromised! I have a girlfriend! I can’t just jump into a relationship with Star without making things clear to her!”

“Wait… So the reason why you didn’t accept Star was me?”

Marco looked at Jackie surprised. He completely forgot she was there. Oh Lord, she heard everything, his rambling, the confession, the fight and now she was with her hand in the air in a signal that she wanted to speak for the first time in… How much time it has been? 20 minutes? It felt like it so, but it was probably less.

He felt the tension over both of them, but that wasn’t anything close to what he felt minutes ago into the fight with Star. With the princess there was pain, guilty, love and so much frustration; and now with Jackie… There was guilty for sure, a bit of regret, sadness and a little grief… But no pain. He wasn’t hurt by it, at least not like it was with Star.

The girl in the green dress stood and put her hands over her hips, with a sigh she extended a hand to him. “Give me the necklace”

Marco sighed “Jackie, listen…”

“No. You listen!” She replied with a higher voice. “I knew this was going to happen; I knew you and Star could become a thing the only reason why I didn’t break up with you, Marco, was because I thought that when this moment came, we could all figure it out together and it would be just fine” She looked at the other on the table in distress “We all had realized you two had feelings for each other, but we also knew it was up to you two to solve this, that’s why we never got into your fights or anything!”

Marco looked at the table at saw the others exchanging looks and giving faint nods. “I said I wanted honesty from you Marco; and I know you didn’t mean to hurt any of us, but that’s what got you and Star to fight so many times…” She sighed, “I knew someday we would break up and I knew you would go after her, I was never hurt by it because I understand. I had understood that whatever you and Star are into it’s way more deep, complicated and stronger than what we have since our first month together…”

Marco tried to defend “It’s not like that…”

“Hush.” Jackie said pointing one finger on his face “I didn’t finished.” She massaged her temples. “Marco… What was the first thing you did when we were officially together?”

“I hugged you” He replied.

“No. You went to Star” Jackie corrected “I gave you the necklace and you went to her to show up, you two celebrated and hugged each other; then you come back to hug me.”

Marco looked at the ground embarrassed. He never noticed he did that; now she mentioned, he realized it was the natural thing he did even if it was wrong. “Oh my God, I’m sorry” He said.

“Don’t be.” Jackie replied. The skate girl took his hands on hers and continued what she had to say “That was the moment I noticed that you two had something special and it would come up on someday. I tried to win your heart, but I couldn’t win what always meant to be to someone’s else. I had my time understanding, fighting and accepting that this would be over. I decided to enjoy until it lasted… Like we said on our first date like a couple, remember?”

Marco nodded closing his eyes on shame by what he did then and what was happening now “To be eternal until it was over.”

Jackie smiled gently on him “Yes. And it’s over already, Marco… You need to let it go so you can move on with Star.”

“What about you?” Marco asked finally looking on her eyes.

Jackie looked at their hands together “I’ll be fine and move on too.”

One of his hands went to her face, cupping her cheek and making her look at him “And Australia?”

“My invitation still valid if you want to go. I invited you as a friend, not only because you were my boyfriend.” She shrugged and smiled. Marco frowned suddenly and Jackie giggled “What is it?”

“It’s… Weird” He admitted. “We should hate each other, be broken, hurt and all, but… I just feel this strange feeling that this is right. I’m sad that it didn’t work out, but I don’t regret anything we went through…”

Jackie gave a faint laugh “We don’t need to be strangers to each other. I want to still be your friend and to Star too. It will be weird for a while, but hey, we all learned to deal with a magical princess from another dimension; I think we can deal with a bit of awkwardness for a while” Marco laughed too.

“I guess…” He smiled at his ex-girlfriend “I’m sorry it didn’t work out, that it took so long for me to realize and we could both move on.”

“Me too” Jackie caressed his cheek “Now, give me the necklace”

Marco put his hands on his neck and took the chain, sliding above his head while she did the same. Both chains on her gloved hand, pedants of key and heart padlock together once again to be kept away until someone got what it needed to hold the key to the girl’s heart.

Someone cleared his throat and both teenagers looked behind them to see their friends there witnessing the moment. Alfonso pretended it was accidental and looked away.

“So… Now can we go? I’m feeling awkward with all this.”

The former couple laughed at him. Jackie put her hands on the hips and moved her hair on a playful way “Not yet! I’m back on hunting!” All of them laughed at her. Finally the tension had lifted a bit and they could play around without hesitation.

Janna hugged Jackie “Thank you! I missed having a partner looking someone to hook up!”

Jackie frowned. “I’m not sure if I want to do this with you”

Janna pouted at her and the boys laughed again. Alfonso and Ferguson went to Marco commenting something about him being a heartbreaker – Literally – which reminded him of Star. Marco looked at Jackie and smiled.

“What now?”

She put the necklaces on her purse, and then both hands on his shoulders smiling “Now we go after Star and you two get your relationship solved.”

Marco shrugged and scratched his neck feeling happy and nervous to talk to the princess. If his crush on – No, love for her was denied and hidden until then, now it was coming on him like a waterfall of feelings. All the moments together, intimacy, the almost kisses got into him and she couldn’t help the blush on his cheeks. It was even better now he knew she loved him too, he just hoped he could fix all the misunderstanding from earlier.

“Yeah…” He managed to say “I should go home and talk to her.”

Marco was expecting a few jokes on him, pats on his shoulders, and some teasing… Not the terrified, pale and shocked faces on his friends. He frowned confused.

“What?”

“You mean…” Ferguson said with difficulty “That Star already went home?”

He got even more confused at his question. “Yeah, after our fight she decided to leave… Why?”

“Marco…” Jackie was the one closer, so she held his arm on the same way she did every time something bad was about to happen. The fear on her face made him even more worried on their reaction.

And he should, because when the words slips from her lips, he feels all of his fears from the past weeks hit him like it was obvious all the time and he was blind. He can’t help to feel his whole body cold and get desperate on the single phrase she says.

“Star is going back to Mewni tonight.”

Hmmm *sips tea* I wonder if I should post the next chapter in the next morning (in 6 hours to me)... 

>>>>>>>>>>> Chapter 12 : After Her >>>>>>>>>>>>

[hiraeth-doux]

Untouchable (2/8) 

Summary: A fresh-out-of-the-NAVY widower Owen Grady knows everything about the war. His own child? Not so much. He settles in his home town with his 5-year-old daughter in hopes of piecing their shattered lives back together. And then they meet Claire Dearing...

Okay so.... First of all, I’d like to thank everyone who checked out the first part! Posting it was rather nerve wracking, to say the least, and your kind words meant the world to me. I’m doing my best to make this story work - so, thank you! You’re the best! 

ETA: I think it stays in the tags even with the text added below now. Hopefully tumblr fixed its issues. Sorry for the inconvenience :)

Have fun, and let me know what you think!

AO3 | Fanfiction.net 

“Okay, man, what’s with the face?” Barry asked Owen a week later, giving him a curious look from under the car next to the one Owen was working on.

A dark-skinned man with smiling eyes, he served in the Air Force in Quebec several years ago. As fate would have it, he met a girl from the Midwest and moved to Wisconsin when his army contract came to an end. The relationship died eventually, but by then, Barry had managed to grow roots here, saying that the winters were just as bad in Madison as they were in Montreal, and the rest didn’t really matter. He wasn’t planning on going back to the Air Force, having had enough of that life, and this place was as good as any.

Sometime later, he opened an auto repair shop, choosing to be his own boss, but even though he had guys like Owen to take care of everything, he never shied away from getting his hands dirty because it made him feel useful. Besides, being stuck in the office all day, dealing with the paper work was driving him insane.

Before long, he and Owen bonded over their military past, their love for gingerbread cookies, and classic rock. It was an effortless friendship that involved grabbing a beer or two after work, running together now and then, or watching ball games while talking about nothing in particular. Harper adored him, fascinated by his accent, an endless array of jokes he had in store, and, if Owen was completely honest with himself, the way their small world wasn’t a shrine of grief when Barry was around, probably because he didn’t tiptoe around them like they were breakable.

“What’s wrong with it?” Owen reached automatically for his cheek. “Is there something on it?” They were permanently covered in grease, soot, and motor oil that seemed to have seeped into their skin, which apparently came with the territory – you could not possibly look clean and polished so long as you were buried under one hood or another for 8 hours every day.

“No, you look… what’s the word for it? Loopy.”

Owen snorted. “Loopy? Who says loopy?”

Barry flashed a smile at him. “Is this about a girl? Come on, spill!”

Owen picked up a wrench and returned to looking for loose fasteners he needed to tighten before his job here was done, his gaze skimming over the underbelly of a ’99 Chevrolet Malibu, following the curves and loops of tubes and hoses snaking before his eyes.

The shop was filled with a hollow sound of muffled voices, occasional clanking of metal on metal, and Bruce Springsteen singing on the radio, his voice fading in and out of the static in the concrete walls. Late afternoon sun was spilling through the windows tucked high near the ceiling, and the dust was dancing and swirling in the rays of light, not particularly bothered by the gravity, from the looks of it.

“As a matter of fact, it is,” Owen admitted after a moment or two, amused.

“That’s my man!” Barry let out a hearty laugh. “So, who’s she? What’s her name? Give me the deets.”

Owen chuckled. “Her name is Harper.”

“Dude, that’s your daughter’s name. That’s sick.”

“It is about my daughter, you nutcase.”

Barry huffed. “Okay, less fun, but I’m listening.”

Owen pulled his toolbox closer and rummaged through it, searching for a socket wrench. “I signed her up for some classes at that place where I do the VA work.  And, man, she’s actually talking, you know? Not just to me or Mrs. Carmichael, but to, like, that teacher of hers, and a bunch of kids who go there, too. I haven’t seen her do that since--” He cut off, his face scrunched in effort as he turned the wrench a few times.  

Since they stopped being a real family and turned into a Picasso painting of one, disproportionate and barely resembling the actual thing. All the required components were there, but they were not fitting the way they used to, or the way they should.

Instead of doing morning drills somewhere in Japan or the Middle East, he was working at Barry’s shop five and a half days a week. It wasn’t that bad a deal, though – in fact, Owen even liked it. There were rules to how engines worked, and he knew how to apply them to those that didn’t. For someone with a degree in Engineering and some experience with military jets, this kind of job was a piece of cake. He could do it in his sleep.

The VA wasn’t a planned gig, but one day several months ago, his current manager brought his old Ford to the shop for an annual check-up. They got to talking. One thing led to another, until Owen somehow found himself with a three-nights-a-week contract and his name on the goddamn poster, talking to the people who saw the world the same way he did. Much to his surprise, it sucked him right in. It was a relief to be back in his element again, except without sleeping in a tent and generally having a better quality of life, which made him feel more in balance somehow. Plus, he was allowed to use a gym and a pool whenever he wanted.

All in all, he had nothing to complain about. It just wasn’t what he’d ever imagined his life to be.

Barry stayed quiet for a long moment. “And that is why you look like you’ve won a lottery?”

“Sure feels like it.” Owen tugged at one of the gas hoses to check if it was attached properly, his gaze accidentally slipping to his watch. “Oh, shit, we’re gonna be late.” He wheeled himself quickly from under the car and grabbed an oil-stained rag that was resting on the hood to wipe the worst of grime from his skin. “She’s gonna kill me.”

Barry emerged from under a big blue SUV, his face streaked with the motor oil. “Harper? She’s two feet tall, man.”

“Three,” Owen muttered, tossing the rag into his toolbox and kicking it closed. “And no. Her teacher… ah, instructor. Whatever. She’d got this thing about tardiness.” He straightened up and started to reach for his hair to smooth it down, but reconsidered, desperately needing to wash his hands properly first, or better yet – take a shower.

“An old lady with principles, huh?” Barry smirked.

Owen offered him a crooked smile. “She’s got principles alright.”

There was no point in going any further here.

In the past few months, Barry joked a couple of times about getting Owen ‘back in the game’, but he quickly dropped the subject – either due to his manners, or because of the how Owen’s face contorted every time he brought it up. He didn’t know – couldn’t know – what it was like to be with someone for 14 years, feeling like he won a jackpot, and then watch them die. Watch them fade away day by day until there was nothing left but a shell of a person he used to know. All their memories, the good days and the bad ones, all the laughs and tears and longing – all gone like they were never there.

Owen asked Harper once what her favourite memory of her mother was, and she told him it was their tea parties. Gathering her dolls and stuffed toys around a small table in her room and pretending the two of them were princesses.

He wished sometimes it was all he could remember, too. Not the hospitals and Jenny’s pallid skin and her face scrunched with pain, or watching her sleep and wondering if she was going to wake up again, but their trips to the beach, and that time they took Harper to Disneyland for her 4th birthday. All the small moments bottled up for safekeeping.

This was not something one could get over in a blink of an eye and move on like nothing happened. Not that he wanted to, either. Keeping the memory of Jenny alive almost made him feel like she was still there, and the best way to do it was to hold on as tight as he could before it faded away. It frightened him. No, scratch that – it terrified him out of his mind. At this point, memories were all he had, and if they were gone – who would he even be in the end? There was a nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach, telling him that it would happen regardless, whether he wanted to or not, but Owen pushed that small voice away and pretended he could cheat his way out of forgetting.

Owen checked the time again and grabbed his jacket. “If Ned calls, tell him I’ll be finished by tomorrow afternoon, okay?”

“You got it.” A screwdriver clenched between his teeth, Barry slid back under the car. “Tell Harper I said hi.”

---

“I’m just saying it’s not fair,” Karen said, stirring her coffee vigorously. “Why do I get to do all the parenting and he still gets to spend half of the holidays with them?”

Recently divorced from her husband of nearly 20 years, she was trying to navigate the newly single-mom life with the grace and elegance of a bull in a china shop. All the simple things that neither she, nor Scott had to ever think about while they were living under the same roof suddenly turned into impossible problems. And the two boys caught in the crossfire didn’t find it enjoyable in the least.

“I thought this is what your divorce agreement was supposed to be for,” Claire reminded her sister, tearing a piece off her croissant and stuffing it into her mouth.

Karen glared at her. “I did not think it through, obviously.”

The coffee shop located stark in the middle between Karen’s office and Masrani Design where Claire was making the magic happen when she wasn’t teaching ice-skating tricks to preschoolers was busy at lunchtime, smelling heavenly of fresh bread, sweet pastries, and bitter, strong coffee. It was warm, too, which was her one and only condition in response to her sister’s invitation to have a quick bite together in a desperate need to vent about Scott’s demand to have their sons over for Easter after just celebrating New Year with them, which left Karen outraged. Understandably.

“I mean, he barely ever bothered to spend any time with them when we were living together, and now he’s suddenly a father of the year?” Karen huffed. “And it’s not like I can say no. We can discuss it, but he has the right…” She pursed her lips together and let out a frustrated huff.

“Come on, you know Scott loves them,” Claire told her.

Karen scowled at her. “Whose side are you on?”

“Well, can you do anything about it? Change the arrangement?”

“I could put a hit on him, maybe,” Karen grumbled under her breath.

“Thought so,” Claire nodded. “But! You can do something about that hideous couch of yours.”

“Don’t even start!”

“Honestly, Karen! I’m making other people’s houses look stylish, but I can’t help my only sister with a serious case of a very, very bad taste?”

“I swear to god, Claire--” She started with a warning.

And then someone shrieked, “Claire!” making a few heads turn. And the next moment, a small body slammed into her with enough force to nearly knock her chair over to the floor.

Claire’s arms closed instinctively around all forty-five pounds of pure excitement that was Harper Grady, purple backpack slung over her shoulders and heavy curls falling down her back.

“Harper!”

They all looked up to the sound of Owen’s voice booming over the lunchtime crowd to see him navigate his way between the tables with a takeout cup and a paper bag in his hand. He slowed down, the concerned lines creasing his face smoothing out when he saw Harper hanging from Claire’s neck.

“Oh, hey,” he said softer, his eyes darting quickly between Claire and Karen before settling on his daughter. “No running off, remember?”

The girl stepped back immediately, looking sheepish, but not particularly guilty. “I found Claire,” she announced, making it sound like she’d just unearthed the biggest treasure known to the humankind.

“I can see that,” Owen confirmed, turning properly to her at last.

They came back.

Claire wasn’t sure they would, even despite the fact that Owen Grady was working roughly a hundred feet away from her several nights a week. But they did, fifteen minutes before the next class, Harper basically bouncing on the balls of her feet as she watched Claire finish her warm-up over the barrier that was almost too tall for her to see over it. Pulled up on her toes, her hands gripping the railing, she followed each of Claire’s fluid moves, her expression utterly transfixed.

She said something to Owen – Claire couldn’t hear what it was from this far away and with the music playing – and he smiled and picked her up in his arms to help her see better.

Claire lurched into a wide backwards crossover, using it as a set-up for a flip jump and wrapping up her routine with a spin, delighted by the rush of air around her and the blur of the world that only felt real to her when it was slightly out of focus.

Later, Harper told her that she’d only seen things like that on TV.

Claire leaned closer to her, dropping her voice as if she was telling her a secret. “I’ve learned it from TV.”

“Really?” The girl’s eyes were wide as saucers now.

“Mostly,” she admitted, barely able to suppress her laughter.

They became a permanent fixture from then on. Three times a week, like clockwork, Owen and Harper Grady would walk through the doors. Sometimes, Owen would stay and watch the practice, other times he would wave his goodbye to Harper and come back in an hour, usually with a Cinnabon for his daughter, and once even with a cup of coffee for Claire. A simple gesture that she found beyond endearing – for its sincerity, if nothing else.

They never talked again after that Saturday evening, though, when he popped in after the gym with a heap of apologies, and he never once came by while she was practicing on the days when there were no classes. Not that Claire expected him to.

Owen Grady was an interesting man, witty and quick with smart comebacks, fun to talk to and, generally, very pleasant. Not to mention the whole dimples thing going on and the shoulders so broad he could probably carry the whole world on them without breaking a sweat. And tall too, his eyes smiling down at her from his generous height of 6’2”. But, at the end of the day, it didn’t matter. He was her student’s father. And on top of that, he also kept a pointed distance, and she had long learned not to mistaken politeness for something else.  

“Hi,” Claire beamed at him to compensate for the five seconds of territorial fear his daughter had caused him. Across the table from her, Karen cleared her throat, and Claire finally remembered she was there. “Oh, Owen, this is my sister, Karen. Karen, this is Owen Grady, we… um, work together. And Harper here,” she tapped the girl on the nose with her index finger, “comes to my classes.”

They exchanged quick handshakes and a few pleasantries before Owen was back in a business mode. “Sorry to cut this short, but we really have to go,” he said. “Here’s your chocolate.” The cup made its way from his hand into Harper’s.

“Yeah, speaking of which,” Claire nodded. “We should probably go, too.”

She dropped a few bills on the table to cover their check and rose from her seat, and so did Karen, both of them reaching for their coats.

“Wow,” Owen whistled under his breath, giving Claire an amused once-over. “You can walk.”

“Pardon me?” Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

“It’s just,” he coughed, “I never saw you without your skates before. Kinda thought they were growing out of your legs or something.”

“You too, huh?” Karen hummed and Harper giggled as Claire’s jaw dropped.

“The world is full of surprises,” she deadpanned.

A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “So I see. You,” Owen pointed his finger at his daughter, “door. Now.” His phone started to ring somewhere in his pocket. “Excuse me, I really need to—“ He nudged Harper to the exit with a quick wave of goodbye over his shoulder. “Nice meeting you.”  

“Likewise,” Karen called after him, and turned to her sister, her eyes gleaming with a dangerous interest. “Okay, what was that?”

Claire pulled on her coat, struggling with thick, uncooperative buttons all designer items seemed to be so fond of and mentally swearing off everything that didn’t come from Sears from then on. “I told you, we work together.” Together, in the same building – same difference.

“No, you don’t,” Karen followed her to the door. “I know everyone you work with, and they’re all gay.”

“Not Lowery,” Claire protested, stepping out into a bright, chilly afternoon.

“Don’t get me started on Lowery,” Karen rolled her eyes as the door shut closed behind them. “He’s bald. And he has dinosaur figurines strewn all over his desk. And what kind of name is Lowery, anyway?”

“Ouch! Petty much?”

“Would you go out with him?” Karen demanded.

“Well, no,” Claire admitted.

“My point exactly, so stop changing the subject. What’s this guy’s deal?” Her sister looked up and down the street, searching for Owen and Harper among the other passers-by.

Claire tightened her scarf around her neck, squinting in the sunlight and kicking herself mentally for forgetting her gloves in the office. “You saw a wedding ring and a kid, right?” She asked, hesitant to go into the dead wife story for the reason she couldn’t quite explain even to herself.

It was bad enough Karen was on her case about ‘fixing’ her love life for years now, but dragging innocent bystanders into it felt plain cruel. Besides, the details didn’t matter – one look at Owen Grady was enough to see that he was still deeply and unapologetically married. To a ghost, to the memories, to whatever kept him going. If there was one thing Claire could understand better than anyone, it was holding on to the past.

She buried her hands deeper into the pockets of her coat and gave Karen a pointed look. “Now, can we please talk about your ex-husband some more?”

---

The nights were still the worst, their loud silence filling Owen’s head with the thoughts that threated to crack him open and turn him inside out. Sometimes he wondered how his mind could contain them all without exploding. And then he wondered if it was ever going to go away, this feeling that he was surviving instead of living.

Owen pulled a bottle of beer out of the fridge and flicked the cap off, his eyes trained on the window and the darkness outside, at his own reflection that looked nothing like anyone he could recognize.

None of this was supposed to be happening.

He was supposed to still be on active duty for another fourteen months, not stuck in a place he fought so hard to get away from – not because it was bad, but because the rest of the world always seemed so big to him it felt like a shame not to be trying to see it all. His daughter was not supposed to have gone for three months without talking, scaring the living hell out of him and a few therapists. There was a moment when Owen was convinced he’d never hear her voice again until he heard her singing her toys to sleep one night, a full month before she spoke to him again. She was not supposed to be crying because she missed her mother while he felt helpless and useless, a joke of a father.

His wife wasn’t supposed to be dead, period.

Harper loved him. He knew she did. Ever since she was old enough to recognize him, she would crawl, and then waddle, and then run to the door whenever he’d come back home from another tour. She would climb into his arms. She would fall asleep on his chest with her chubby fist closed over his shirt in the middle of telling him a story. She would rush to him to get away from the injustices her ‘evil’ mother would push on her – like brushing her teeth or picking up her toys, and his heart would swell in his chest every time with more love he ever thought he was capable of feeling.

But that was easy. That he knew how to do. The wrath of Harper Marie Lynn Grady over the wrong brand of cereal or her refusal to leave the house unless she was wearing the right skirt was something else entirely.

The one thing that no one mentioned to him before he got sucked into this big black hole was that parenting was considered a team sport for a reason. Before, it felt almost effortless. Like he and Jenny could make no mistake. Sure, there were some bumps in the road; they had their issues, no one was perfect – and so on, and so forth. Owen tended to be a good cop to Jenny’s bad one, sneaking an extra cookie to his kid and closing his eyes on her small mischiefs. Granted, it would’ve been hard to be anything else, what with him being gone a good half of a year, but he’d always found consolation in knowing that there would be time for everything else, that he’d have the rest of his life to catch up.

Man, was he wrong about that!

Now, he felt like he was trying to swim in the middle of the ocean with one arm locked behind his back. He knew how to diffuse a bomb and use just about any kind of firearms there was, but hell if he had any idea how to make his own child eat her vegetables, or how to braid her hair, or how to be both parents at the same time. He probably felt just as trapped as Harper who had no one else to turn to whenever Owen hit a brick wall.

They were both tired, and he couldn’t help but wonder sometimes if he was even cut out for this, for this whole parenting thing that he clearly wasn’t excelling at. And if he wasn’t – what was he supposed to do?

And then there was Claire Dearing.

It wasn’t anything personal. He knew little about her and, frankly, didn’t care much about the rest, but there was something almost meditative about her effortless routines that tended to soothe the storms raging in his mind. The way she was flying, weightless, barely touching the pale, cold surface beneath the sharp blades of her ice-skates…

Maybe he also needed help, Owen thought with dismay. Maybe he was losing it. Maybe this was the long overdue PTSD everyone at the meetings was talking about and that he foolishly believed he managed to avoid. His mother had suggested a few times that he maybe he should talk to someone, get another opinion, a different perspective. Nothing permanent, she stressed. Just something to help him get through the worst of it.

At the time, her offer seemed almost laughable – the worst of it? As opposed to what?

But what if she wasn’t that far off?

“Daddy?”

Startled, he turned around to find Harper standing in the doorway, her hands clasped around the toy bunny he’d gotten for her when she was born. Blinking in the bright light, she was rubbing her eyes, her dark curls falling down her pajama-clad shoulders.

“Hey, baby, what are you doing up so late?”

He put the bottle down and crouched in front of her.

“Bad dream.” Harper reached for him, wrapping her arms around his neck, the toy trapped between them.

“It’s just a dream.” Owen gathered her in his arms and kissed her hair, shocked once again by how big she was getting. Not by his stands maybe, but he still remembered the days when she could fit in the cupped palms of his hands, so tiny he was scared to break her. And then in just a blink of an eye they were suddenly here, and now he had no idea how it happened. “It’s not real. C’mon, let’s get you back to bed. You want me to read you something?”

She rested her head on his shoulder, her eyes already drooping sleepily. “Tell me a story.”

“About what?”

“Dragons.”

Owen nudged the door to her room open with his shoulder, careful not to trip on the toys scattered all over the floor and lowered her down, already asleep.

He pulled her blanket over her and tucked her in, wondering not without a twinge of terror in his stomach just how much of his daughter’s life and his own he was not seeing because he didn’t know where to look.

---

A couple of weeks later, Claire found Harper sitting on the bleachers after everyone else had already left, a book in her lap and a tip of a pencil in her mouth, her forehead creased in concentration.

“Hey, honey,” Claire stopped in front of the girl who looked up instantly. “Where’s your dad?”

Harper’s eyes darted toward the door. “Probably running later,” she answered, looking somewhat uncertain, although not particularly troubled. “He’s coming any moment now.”

“It’s okay,” Claire assured her, then folded her arms in front of her on the barrier between them. “What are you doing?”

“Homework,” Harper muttered, her face puckering with displeasure. And then she snapped her head up, her features lighting up momentarily. “Can you do the spin things for me?” She asked with the barely contained excitement she no longer tried to hold back.

Where was the gloomy little thing Owen first brought here back in January? It was quite incredible to watch her shed the layers of caution and distrust and step out of her shell, revealing a real gem of a truly delightful person underneath.  

There was so much life inside her, so much hunger and excitement for everything the world could offer.

Claire laughed and pushed the gate open, stepping off the ice. “I have a better idea.” She lowered down into the chair next to Harper. “Let’s finish your homework and then I’ll teach you how to do them. What do you say?”

When Owen burst through the doors half an hour later, Harper’s homework was done and was sitting in her backpack, and she was doing small, awkward twirls in the middle of the rink, right in the center of a pale spotlight, her hand clasped tightly around Claire’s and her laughter scattering around the cool room and echoing under the ceiling.

He stopped short, panting and relieved beyond measure, and so did they, turning to him at the same time, hands clasped together.

“Daddy!” Harper let go of Claire and moved toward him, breathless and grinning from ear to ear. “Have you seen my spins?”

“Sure did!” He ruffled her hair fondly, earning a stink eye from the girl for doing that. “I’m so sorry,” he said to Claire when she joined them. “I got caught up in—I’m sorry, it won’t happen again, I swear.”

“Don’t be, it’s fine,” Claire promised him quickly. “We had fun.” She ran her hand over Harper’s head absently, smiling down at her. “Didn’t we?”

“Come on, champ, go get your boots,” Owen told his daughter, then sunk heavily against the barrier and ran his hand through his hair that was already sticking out in every direction from his trot from the parking lot and down a long corridor. “Thank you,” he mouthed to Claire, a smile coming through his voice.

“We did the homework, too,” she informed him conspiratorially.

He scoffed. “I hope she did at least some of it.”

By the time they were ready to leave, Claire had also gathered her things and was head for the exit, her hair pulled into a sloppy ponytail. Owen pushed the door open for her after she turned off the lights and scooped Harper in his arms while she locked up, shifting her bag from her left shoulder to the right and pocketing her keys.

She followed them to the exit and out into the cold night, the soles of her practical shoes lined with fur squeaking on the linoleum. Having to actually get used to walking after several hours on the ice never ceased to amaze Claire, the sensation almost as alien as having to move on all fours or upside down, making gliding feel more natural than anything else.

“Hey, you need a ride or anything?” Owen turned to Claire once they reached the parking lot and he stopped near his jeep.

“Thank you, Mr. Grady, but I’ve got a ride right here,” she nodded toward a silver Toyota parked two cars down from his and stuffed her hands deeper into the pockets of her overcoat, searching for the quickly dissipating warmth.

Harper giggled, wiggling in his arms to turn to Claire. “Why did you call daddy ‘Mr. Grady’?”

“It’s his name,” Claire looked up at her.

“Yes, but only for the work people, not friends,” the girl informed her with the air of utmost authority.

“Is that what we are, huh?” She asked Owen, her head tilted to her shoulder.

“You tell me, Ms. Dearing,” he told her, straightening up and holding her gaze for a second or two longer than necessary, and suddenly she was not amused anymore, her smile slipping off. “Well,” he coughed when the moment started to stretch, pulling his head a bit into his neck against the sharp gusts of wind. “Thanks, again, for watching Harper tonight. I really appreciate it.”

“It was no trouble at all,” she promised him and started toward her car, but then stopped and turned to him again just as he opened the door and positioned his daughter in her seat in the back. “Owen?”

“Yeah?” He straightened up.

Don’t do it, don’t do it, don’t do it…

“It usually takes me about an hour to clean up a bit and, I don’t know, collect the forgotten gloves, finish some paperwork. Stuff like that.” She chewed on her lip for a few seconds, watching his expression in the dim light of streetlamps running along the perimeter of this small parking lot, his face streaked with shadows and almost completely unreadable. “If you need to be late again, for whatever reason, don’t worry about it. I’ll make sure that everything is okay with Harper.”

He stared at her for a long moment without saying a word, then tapped his fingers on the roof of his car and nodded slowly. “Thanks, I… I’ll try not to make a habit out of it,” he said in that weird voice that felt like a touch of velvet to her skin. “And, Claire?” A pause. “You’re something else. You know that, right?”

“So I’ve heard,” she brushed him off nonchalantly, more for her own benefit than his.

---

It started with a snowstorm that swept in fast and furious one day in late February. All week, the meteorologists swore their heads off, promising that it would move up north, heading toward Canada, barely even grazing Wisconsin. Instead, it seemingly decided to bury the whole state in one giant snowbank until it was tucked safely under a thick, white blanket.

By the time the weather channels finally issued an alert, warning everyone to stay at home or, at the very least, avoid driving, the world had turned into white chaos. Angry wind was throwing handfuls of snow at the windshield of Owen’s car, the wipers working at the top speed to no avail. He leaned over the steering wheel as if it could help him see better, but in the sea of head- and taillights, he was nothing but a dot on a map. Another car stuck in the middle of a massive traffic jam caused by multiple accidents somewhere ahead of him.

He turned on the radio, trying to find the updates, hoping to maybe make it to the next intersection and turn onto a side street and away from this mayhem, but words of the newscaster were fading in and out, the reception spotty and interrupted by the weather, and after a while he had no choice but to turn it off and hope for the best.

He tapped his fingers restlessly on the steering wheel, peering ahead at the swirls of white outside his car. He was late. He was late to pick up Harper, and it was probably only a matter of time before he hopped out of the goddamned car to go get her on foot. The only problem with that plan was that he didn’t think he’d cover one block before ending up buried in the snow. And that was not going to get his daughter home.

His eyebrows pulled together when the car in front of him eased forward, and he all but breathed a sigh of relief only to hit the brakes again not even ten feet later, causing the vehicle behind him to let out a honk of protest. “Right there with ya, buddy,” Owen muttered, glancing into the rearview mirror.

Sick with worry, he checked his watch

And that was when his phone began to ring.

---

The power went out just as Claire finished the class, and in the sudden darkness and silence, she could hear the wind howling in the vents, the tree branches scraping against the roof and the walls of the building. A short panic ensued among the kids and parents alike, and a few tears were shed before the situation got under control and Claire managed to see everybody out in the light of the cellphone flashlights.

Everybody except one.

Owen still wasn’t there, and the building manager was asking everyone to vacate the premises as it was dictated by the safety protocol. Power surges apparently rose the risk of fire – which Claire didn’t want to think of – and therefore extreme weather conditions required immediate evacuation, leaving her with a frightened Harper Grady on her hands.

There was nothing she could do but call Owen – he insisted she had his phone number after the last time he was late picking his daughter up – and tell him to come get Harper from Claire’s place, an old house a few blocks away from the Community Center. It used to belong to her parents and where she’d been living since they passed away five years ago, reluctant to sell it despite the fact that it was too big for just one person and required constant maintenance. Karen kept pestering her about it, pointing out that it was criminally impractical. But Claire liked it, she liked the vibe of it, and the memories its walls held, and all the small things in-between.

And at the moment, it was either taking Harper there, or waiting for him outside in her car, and quite frankly, that sounded downright dreadful. It was cold, the girl was probably tired, and if it was up to Claire, the decision would be a no brainer. But Owen was her father, and his had to be the final word.

“Owen?” There was a long pause on the line when Claire voiced her suggestion, interrupted by the static and honking on his end, and what she thought was a wail of an ambulance siren, and she could almost hear him think, weighing the pros and cons of her offer.

“Yeah, okay.” He cleared his throat. And then he asked her to text him the address.

When he appeared on Claire’s doorstep almost an hour later, smelling not unpleasantly of motor oil, his jacket unzipped and his hair dusted with the snow, Harper was happily snacking on chocolate chip cookies and humming some tune under her breath while she was drawing something that could be both a whale and a rabbit at the kitchen table. She threw herself at her father with a squeal, climbing into his arms and telling him about how Claire had ‘all the books’ and a real ‘grown-up drawing table’, referring to her stand-up drafting desk tucked in the corner of the living room where she worked now and then if she fell behind on her projects.

“Does she, really?” Owen asked, his eyes darting between his daughter and Claire who looked… homey in her leggings and oversized University of Wisconsin sweatshirt. “Why don’t you get your things, honey, and we’ll get going?” He set Harper down and turned to Claire. “Look, I’m so sorry…”

“Don’t,” she stopped him, raising her hand. “It wasn’t your fault, and we were both kind of tired, so I did have some ulterior motives for bringing her here.” And then, “Although kidnapping wasn’t one of them.”

Owen chuckled, rubbing his forehead. “Yeah, I sorta figured that out. It’s just, um…” He shook his head, grimacing a little. “This never happened before. Not like that, and I thought she’d be mad because there was this one time I had to pick her up late from her Grandma’s and she wouldn’t talk to me until the next day, but… I kinda didn’t expect the storm to get this bad so fast.” He let out a long breath. “That doesn’t sound good, does it?”

Claire pushed her hair back from her face, her gaze softening. “Sounds okay,” she told him. They both glanced into the living-room where the girl was carefully putting her books and papers and a Winnie-the-Pooh pencil bag into her backpack. “I get it. It’s just the two of you, and it not easy. And I was glad to help.”

Owen’s features relaxed and he nodded, watching her closely as she watched his daughter, for some reason only now noticing a dusting of golden freckles sprinkled over Claire’s nose – the same shade as paler wisps of hair at her temples. And the vanilla scent—Owen first thought was that it was from a pie or something, but now he would bet his very soul on it coming from her skin, washing over him each time she moved, and his stomach clenched at the that thought in response to something he hadn’t felt in so long he didn’t think he still could.

Back a few months ago, when he first saw her at the Community Center, Claire was more of an oddity than a person, someone so different from everyone Owen had ever known he couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact that she was even real. Then she started working with Harper and once again, she was there but also not really, a fleeting presence he never bothered to actually register, too engrossed in his own life to pay proper attention to anything outside of it.

In a way, it was easy to convince himself he wasn’t really seeing her, if only because he wasn’t quite willing to admit even to himself that she wasn’t entirely unattractive. (Screw that, she was drop-dead gorgeous with that mane of copper-red hair that seemingly hated to be pulled into buns and braids, always struggling to break free, and the lively deep-green eyes – he was grieving, not blind.) And the realization stirred something inside him. Something he was not supposed or allowed to feel for a woman who was not his wife.

“The thing is, it’s like no matter how much time has passed, this whole single parent thing still feels like walking blindfold on a mine field,” he said in a whoosh of breath, if only to say something, do anything that wasn’t staring at Claire. “Half the time, I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“You’re doing well,” she assure him. “Trust me. Granted, I can’t speak from personal experience, but if everyone tried half as hard as you do, this world would be a better place.”

He laughed shakily at that. “Wow, that was profound.”

She shrugged, not at all perplexed by his reaction. “Yeah, well… I have multitudes.” And then added, “I also have a suggestion.” A pause. “I can watch Harper after her lessons if you need to work late.”

“Okay,” Owen drawled slowly, eyeing her with suspicion. “That sounds too good to be true. What’s the catch?”

Claire wrinkled her nose. “My car is all yours the next time it breaks down on me.”

He considered her words, still not convinced she was not joking. “Seriously, what’s the catch?” She cocked an eyebrow at him, and his expression turned grave. “Are you seriously offering to babysit my daughter?”

“I’m offering you a chance not to have to pull her out of the program even if it clashes with your work schedule,” she countered. That, and I’m probably losing my mind, she added in her head.

“I can’t ask that of you, Claire.”

“You’re not, it was my idea. You don’t have to say yes.” She watched a battle of emotions sweep across his face, and then it got impossible to hold his gaze, so she tore hers away, choosing to study the old wallpaper she kept promising herself to change every spring but never got around to doing it because what was that saying about cobbler’s children having no shoes? “It doesn’t make much difference to me, so unless you have other options…”

Crap, Owen thought. This was too much, wasn’t it?

The problem was, he didn’t have other options. Not really. His mother was not driving anymore – her eyesight had dropped significantly in the past couple of years and even though she remained fully functional otherwise, she decided to stop using her car for the sake of her own and everyone else’s safety. Mrs. Carmichael wasn’t driving, period. None of them would walk three miles in frigid weather to pick up Harper after her practice and take her home if he was late.

The girl had a few babysitters after Jenny had passed away but it never quite worked out for anyone – she wasn’t comfortable around strangers, drawing deeper into herself when forced to interact with them against her will, and Owen could tell it was causing her harm rather than helping either of them. And he simply couldn’t afford to let them both slip back into the time when she remained silent and withdrawn for so long he feared it would become permanent.

Claire was right. His only other choice would be to pull her out of ice-skating completely and simply have her stay with Mrs. Carmichael after school, but something told him that this would probably be the worst possible scenario. For some reason – well, for about a thousand of them, from where he was standing – Harper loved Claire Dearing, and Owen loved the way she was around his kid. Attentive but never patronizing, and comfortable too, without the extra layer of pity he’d noticed about some of Harper’s school teachers who were nearly tearing up at the sight of a poor motherless girl, setting his teeth on edge.  

He didn’t have to say yes, that was true. But he hardly could say no, either.

Finally, when the girl hauled her backpack and a handful of other stuff into the hallway, Owen reached for her coat and crouched down in front of his daughter to help her put it on.

“Honey, what do you think about staying with Claire here after your lessons sometimes?” He asked her, considering that it had to be her decision in the end as his fingers worked rather clumsily on a small zipper of her puffed parka. “You know, like today?”

Harper’s mouth dropped open, her gaze shifted to Claire first and then back to Owen. “Every time?” She asked, incredulous.

“No, not every time,” Owen responded quickly, and Claire had to cover her snort with a cough. “Not at all. Just… some days when I have to pick up extra work. What’s you say?”

The girl glanced at Claire again, chewing on her lip. (Like Claire did when she was thinking hard about something. Sweet Jesus, his daughter was already picking up her habits.) Then she lifted her arms to have Owen pick her up and looked seriously into his face when he complied, her eyebrows knitted together. “Can it be every time?”

He grinned, and so it was set.

---

The first time Owen saw not his wife’s chocolate brown eyes in his dream, but Claire’s green ones, he woke up with a start, tangled in sweat-soaked sheets, his heart beating out of his chest. The dream was nothing but a smudge in his mind, the details of it erased from his memory the second he opened his eyes, but his stomach was in knots.  

He didn’t know where it came from, or what he was supposed to do about it, but it left him nauseous and disoriented, and worst of all, unable to summon up the image of Jenny without looking at her picture. Every time he closed his eyes, he’d see Claire’s smile.

To be continued....