#claire's terrible awful not so good day

[rescuefield-a]

@macabremachinations asked : “ You don't have to trust my words, but do you have any better options? ”

question is answered with a deadly glare, calling it quits and admit defeat simply because she's had enough - it's cold outside, claire's tired of walking around without an actual plan and this guy is pretty much just taunting her to the point she might accidentally forget he's supposed to be her ally in this circumstance.

"you gonna make me chase the sun like an idiot now?" she inquires then, sarcastic bite in her tone as a brow quirks - if he knew where to find her then he probably knows who she is too. "name's sköll." she adds after a moment of silence, because her brother raised her with manners after all. "i assume the dogs are yours?" but were those even dogs? she couldn't really see in the darkness, but considering the weird shit she's seen during her stay in the village, claire wouldn't really be surprised if there was an army of wolves too.

[hannahssimblr]

Chapter Three (Part 2)

In the laundrette later on, as we wait for our clothes to finish their cycle, Claire holds my hand in hers. “There’s no pressure to do anything you don’t want to.” She says softly, and I know that among the whirr of the washing machines only I can hear her. “And if you ever want to back out of anything, I’ll be here for you.” She means well, but it sounds to me like she’s also more or less decided that I’m going to go and talk to Liam tonight. There is a rock in my stomach and I don’t feel like talking about this anymore. 

When our clothes are finished, we haul them back to the mobile home together and hang it all up on the washing line outside. I notice straight away that Kelly and Claires’ underwear is different from mine. Every pair of knickers that I pull out of the washing basket is small and sexy, all with lace trims in pretty feminine colours like pale pink and cream and lilac. My underwear comes from a multipack at the supermarket and every one of them has a childish little rosette on the front. I cringe as Kelly pulls an ancient pair of mine out of the pile. I’ve had them for way too long. They’re mint coloured with a frilly trim and a decal of The Little Mermaid on the side, and they look ridiculous on the line next to the lacy pairs that she owns. 

She pegs them up and then takes a step back to behold them. “Easy to tell who the virgin of the group is.” She says.

Later on in the pub by the quay, Kelly buys drinks for the table. She’s the only one of us girls who can, so we usually depend on her totally. We are perched on hard benches around an old wooden table; Kelly, Claire, Liam and me. He and I are sitting next to each other, and I’m trying not to look at him for too many long periods just in case he can somehow tell from looking in my eyes that we were talking about him earlier. 

Kelly has bought me a Malibu and pineapple juice. It’s my favourite, and it feels perfect for days on the beach like these. None of us have been up to sing karaoke yet, the night is young and I know that many more drinks will have to flow before we get to that point. Everyone is listening to Liam talk about his choices for college next year. 

��My first choice is agricultural and food sciences in UCD” He tells us “After that I put down business in GMIT and english and history in UL. I don’t know, I couldn’t really think of anything else. I don’t expect to get the highest points in the Leaving so… I suppose I’ll leave it to chance and take whatever I get.”

“Would you not do something related to the sea?” Claire wants to know. “Like, Ocean Science or whatever you call it. I feel like that’d suit you”

“Marine Sciences in Galway is over four-fifty points, I don’t think I’ll get that.” He thoughtfully takes a sip from his pint. “Sure I don’t know, we’ll see. Not long now until the results…” 

I shudder at the thought of doing my Leaving Cert. This will be me a year from now, papers all completed, living in limbo between exams and results, my whole future hinging on that one piece of paper. I can’t imagine how it must feel then, sitting there waiting for college offers to come in. Where will I be living in a month from then? What direction will my life be taking? I feel I would spontaneously combust with the pressure.

“Any of you thought about what you’d like to do after school?” Liam asks the table, and Kelly shrugs. “Haven’t thought about it. Nursing maybe.” She gestures to me before she drinks her vodka and blackcurrant. “Evie will do art “though. She’s great at drawing.”

Liam turns to me. “Really?” 

I shrug “I like drawing, I’m not really sure if i’m good though. Don’t know if I’d get into college with it.”

“Aw, I’d say you’re great.”

“She is great.” Claire chimes in “She’s always drawing in her sketchbook and I’ve sneaked a look at a couple of pages. Like when she draws something it really looks the way it looks in real life. You know what I mean?”

“I’m a terrible artist” says Liam “So I feel very impressed when someone can do it well. You should have brought your sketchbook to the pub! Could have done a drawing for us.”

I laugh and shake my head. “I don’t know, I think you’d be disappointed, I’m really not that good.”

“Would you say it’s like your dream job to be an artist?” 

“Maybe… ‘artist’ feels like such a broad term though. Like, best case scenario I’d like to be some kind of designer. I really haven’t put thought into it yet.” I shrug. “Something to think about next year I suppose.” 

“You’re already the best artist in our year.” Kelly says. You’ll get into any college you want to, just have confidence.” She’s fidgeting in her seat now and seems to be bored with the conversation. She turns around to look up at the karaoke booth. “Should I do a song, lads?” We tell her that she should, and without hesitation she marches to the top of the room to look through the booklet of songs. Claire has to go to the bathroom then too and bounces away, leaving Liam and I alone. 

“I think it’s really cool when someone knows what they want to do at college.” He says to me, continuing on from before “And I’m sure the girls are right, I bet you really are a good artist.”

I smile. “How would you know that?”

“You just seem like the kind of person, I don’t know how to explain it really. It’s like… it’s always the quiet girls who are secretly the best at things.”

“You might be wrong, I could be quiet and really crap at everything.”

“Definitely not true.”

“Hm.”

“You should bring your sketchbook with you the next time you pass by the surf shack. I’d really love to have a look at your drawings.” 

I nod, but I know that I’ll never do that. I imagine how it would go; me awkwardly interrupting Liam’s surf lessons with the children and shoving my dog-eared sketchbook in his face. ‘Look’ I’ll say ‘my sketches that you asked for, aren’t they good?’ I cringe so much at the imaginary scenario that I have to physically shake myself out of it. 

“Are you cold?” He asks me then, and I shake my head. “No, I just got a shiver up my spine.”

“My granny would say that means someone is talking about you.”  

“Trust me Liam, nobody is talking about me.” 

Prev // Next

[pinkthick]

I’ll always be there for you

Credits: @bluekernal / @quaritchsgirl

Pairing: Avatar!Miles Quaritch & Kid!Miles Socorro

Summary: After Lyle fell ill, Quaritch and young Miles quickly followed suit. Even though the colonel was in a meeting with some wealthy government officials, the 4-year-old wanted to be with his father because he was feeling awful and since Claire, the nurse, had left him alone, he went to his father.

Notes: Please take a moment to read this. Check out @bluekernal / @quaritchsgirl ’s blog because she created this AU, and let me tell you, her artwork is incredible.This fanfiction was greatly inspired by her drawings.

While Miles did pass away in this fanfiction exactly like in the original film, the RDA would have started this project earlier because the avatar body was already on Pandora and the humans hadn’t been sent back to earth. The humans are still living there, but the Na’vi still don’t accept them so fights ensure from time to time. Even though Quaritch is an avatar now, he still retains his previous memories, and he continues to serve in the ‘military’ on Pandora without his consent since he literally became the RDA’s propriety, but Jake Sully isn’t that important to him, his son on the other hand is what matters most to Quaritch.

Bored out of his ever loving mind, Quaritch sat in the meeting room with Z-Dog, Mansk, and some of the other humans, including Parker and approximately five different government officials. They were constantly complaining about how the unobtanium hadn't already arrived on Earth and expecting to lose millions if they didn't receive any supply by next week.

For roughly five minutes, when he paid attention, that is what they complained about. But could anyone actually blame him? His head felt heavy, his sinuses felt like they were on fire, and he wasn't feeling good. He had caught whatever that son of a bitch Lyle had.

Wainfleet missed yesterday's morning training, and when the Recoms went to check on him, he looked terrible. Since humans and avatars are not the same species, Miles threatened him to stay away from his son. He didn't even know if an avatar could make a human ill, but he most definitely didn't want to find out. It's better to be safe than sorry, right?

Fortunately for him, Quaritch was the one who fell ill after Lyle. He began to sneeze throughout the day, and when he realized it hurt to swallow while eating dinner with his son later that night, he went to the doctor immediately to get whatever medication could help.

One of the other issues was what he should do with his son, since the youngster was still sleeping in his bedroom. But yesterday night, much to his amazement, he discovered that the four-year-old didn't mind sleeping alone because he occasionally did it when Quaritch went on missions. He couldn’t believe that he was the one that in fact minded. It felt so strange to sleep without little Miles, he didn’t like not knowing if his son was safe besides him. Indeed, he did it while he was on missions, but in all honesty, he worried about surviving on those, so it felt foreign to him. He honestly didn't believe he was that clingy.

Even if he had wanted to stay in his room today, he couldn't since the higher ranks wouldn't permit him like they had with Lyle, so here he was, in this fucking room.

The marine memorized all of the government officials' vocal timbres, speech patterns, and unintentional habits over the course of the following twenty minutes, but he wasn't sure why. He was just bored and Quaritch really just wanted this meeting to end.

About thirty minutes into the conference, he grumbled and pulled out his tablet, hiding it under the table he was seated at, which was the size of an Avatar. Whilst it was amusing to imagine that they actually tailored things to fit their needs, he won't complain about it.

He took a moment to look through the device in order to see what games his son had recently been playing. Angry birds. Quaritch snorted, his lips twitching with delight as he expressed his genuine surprise that the game was still playable. In a haste, he looked up and about to make sure nobody had heard him or noticed that he wasn't paying attention, only to find Selfridge staring at him. Really, he couldn't care less what Parker thought.

Quaritch then took up his coffee and hid a yawn behind the cup as a government official continued to go on with yet another protracted, monotonous response. He was definitely having trouble staying awake. God, all he wished was to go back to bed.

He sighed again as the meeting continued with no sign of an end in sight, and Z-Dog grinned when she saw that he had no desire to be there as well. Minutes later, Quaritch fought to stay awake as his head started to nod. He could not possibly survive until the very end.

Little Miles was staying again with the nurses and it was very rare for him to act out. Claire usually babysat him and preferred to keep it a secret that he is in fact an angel child and is not a major hassle for her. She knew about his little ‘pranks’ with his father, but it was clear as day that the youngster knew what he was doing. For a four year old he was smart to know with whom he can afford to pull those little stuns so that he won’t get in trouble. But with her, the boy didn’t usually behave like this so she really didn’t know what triggered him.

The nurse was making every effort to complete the tasks she had for today, but the four-year-old is showing that he will make things as challenging as he can for her. While holding the paperwork from the patiens she met yesterday in one hand, Claire gently pulled him forward. Little Miles is visibly upset and irritated because he wants to leave her side but the nurse won't let go of him. She was familiar with him and understood that if she let go, the youngster would probably run away somewhere.

“Miles, I’m trying to get these done. Just a few more minutes and then we can play.” She sighed as she looked down at the boy, seeing that he still isn’t pleased with her answer.

Claire made an effort to brush it off, saying that perhaps the child was just tired and cranky. Of course, everyone had bad days, so perhaps the boy was just having one of those today. "How about I give you a lollipop? I know you like them, right?”

“No” Miles responded bitterly.

Too tired to bother with the son’s colonel, she trailed off, trying to get all of the work done. While she stopped for awhile, Claire could see that he tried to reach for some sort of item and she couldn’t help but raise a brow. Seeing that it was just a plaster, she let him took it, assuming that if she denied the boy that item, Miles would throw a fit. She just hoped that watching cartoons would be enough to keep him occupied till she was done.

For a while, everything went as planned, and Claire was almost finished with her work when she felt her blazer jacket being tugged on. When she looked down, she saw the young boy pleading for her attention. “Do you want to watch something else?”

"I want to go to dad.” he whined.

Claire shook her head, "I'm sorry Miles, but you can't. Your father in a meeting, on top of him being sick." Miles looked at her with a deadpan expression as she continued “We don't want you to become ill as well”

He started to bit his lip slightly before his eyes started to well up tears “Just for a little while, please?”

Claire shook her head again seeing that his face was flushed worried her.

“Please—“ Miles pleaded again, as he pulled away from the woman and started balling his eyes out.

The boy didn't cry easily, and that concerned Claire; it was obvious that something was wrong. In order to be at eye level with the four-year-old, the nurse knelt down since she understood that yelling and becoming upset at the child wouldn't help at all.

“What’s wrong little guy?” Miles stepped closer as he was still crying, his little hands rubbing at his eyes.

“I—“ he sniffeled as he continued “I don’t feel good.”

Claire opened her arms and the boy fell into them, welcoming the warm embrace. She rubbed her hand over Miles’s back and held him gently. He was burning up, it was no surprise that he was behaving like this.

She stretched her arm to fetch a non-contact thermometer, and when she placed it on his forehead, the small readout showed 38,5°C. Despite the fact that it wasn't particularly high, she didn't want his fever to rise.

In order to obtain a bottle of medicine, the nurse scooped the youngster up and set him down on a chair. For a child, Nurofen would be preferable.

“Why didn't you let me know earlier that you weren't feeling well?” As she poured syrup onto a spoon, the woman inquired.

If he was being really honest, he didn’t know why so the four-year-old just shrugged his shoulders. He didn't feel entirely like himself today.

“Okay Miles, open up.” He gave her an uneasy glance and Claire attempted once more "This will make your fever go down and tastes pretty good, like strawberries."

He deliberated for a moment as he continued to wipe his eyes with his sleeves, but eventually gave in after noticing Claire's gentle smile.

He was pleasantly surprised to find that he actually liked the taste.

"I guarantee you'll feel better soon." She murmured while lightly fluffing his hair.

Just as she was helping him get down, her phone started to ring and she hastily answered the it after realizing it was one of her coworkers. The little boy looked at her as his emotional outbrust finally began to stop, but he still wanted to go to his father.

“Can I take Miles with me?” Claire asked as she looked at the poor boy before her.

“I don’t think it would be okay for a little boy to see this.” The other woman on the phone spoke and then continued “Don’t worry, we’ll send someone to stay with him, but you really need to hurry up.”

“Miles, I need you to stay put and someone will come in here to stay with you until I finish.” She appeared pleased when the little boy nodded, and she then took him up and placed him on the couch after putting her white coat on. He was still warm when Claire laid a hand softly on his forehead and grimaced. Given his condition, she knew she couldn't leave him alone, but if she didn't leave, someone would most likely die today and most people—including herself—would blame her.

"Coming right now." She then put the call to an end. Although Miles wasn't entirely sure why the woman was in such a hurry, he was aware that accidents might happen here, which was one of the reasons his father didn't let him go outside most of the time, which usually upset him.

“Miles, could you please behave and stay here?” She continued to speak as the youngster gave her a pitiful expression while looking at her, but she had to leave. Claire felt a twinge of sorrow when the little boy winced slightly after she pulled her palm away, but she still left the room.

He sat in front of the TV for a bit, but he immediately grew bored, and even after ten minutes, no one showed up. Little Miles was still feeling horrible and he desperately wanted his father.

In all honesty, he had no idea what had actually happened outside, but since no one came in and he was still unsupervised, the youngster was free to go find his dad. Because the marine was also ill, the boy could stay with Quaritch again, since there wasn’t a reason to stay away from him anymore and like this, no one needed babysit him.

And with that he climbed down the counch and also left the room, searching for the colonel.

Z-Dog and Mansk made every effort to control their laughter as they watched Quaritch's loss of composure. He was sound asleep and yet the government officials didn’t notice him. But, since it was online, it wasn't quite like they were meeting in person.

But, it didn't matter. The bet they made was more important. Z-Dog assumed that he would stay asleep for roughly ten minutes before awakening due to his inability to breathe, while Mansk believed that he would wake up slightly earlier due to him being sick. Honestly, they needed some entertainment in this dull conference, despite the fact that the bet was extremely foolish. Don’t blame them.

Their ears perked up when they heard the door gently open, just as Parker shot those two another warning look. When they turned around and saw little Miles there, their smiles soon faded. The youngster discreetly closed the door after sneaking through it, but he still made his way to his father despite the Recoms' terrified expressions.

He was now hiding behind his dad's chair, and only the Recoms were aware of his presence. Mansk felt as though he was going to pass out while Z-Dog attempted to approach the boy without looking suspicious.

“Is there a problem, Miss Zdinarsk?” One of the officals goverment asked and she felt her blood run cold.

“No sir” she quickly responded as she stayed put this time. She was aware that the boy could ruin this entire meeting, but, to be completely honest, she couldn't give a flipping fuck besides that the RDA literally owned them and paid for them, so they could easily get rid of the entire squad if they didn't like how they behaved.

Miles didn't look at her, so he missed Z-Dog's warning look when she looked at the young child again.

The two Recoms didn't realize the little boy didn't look good until he was on the verge of crying once again since he had begun to shiver on his way here. The young child didn’t think clearly anymore and grabbed hold of his father's tail and began tugging on it. Quaritch physically bolted up and he was startled to say at least.

Z-Dog and Mansk both held their breath, but fortunately for everyone, only their coworkers observed them because the officials were staring at some sort of hologram, but they were still grateful that nobody said anything.

Despite his confusion, the colonel was very certain of who the small hand on his tail was. Even though he didn't know how Miles got in, he wasn't angry to see him there. However, why wasn't anyone watching his son in the first place?

As he turned to look at the young boy without drawing too much attention to himself, Quaritch noticed his son's electric brown eyes wide and distressed and instantly, he no longer felt sleepy. He wrapped his tail around the child and made an effort to move him slightly forward so the marine could pick him up.

Again, the colonel didn't give a fuck about those pricks, so Quaritch seated little Miles on his lap and hid him as best he could so that the government officials couldn't see from the camera video that there was a literal child in the room.

Quaritch finally noticed the boy's condition as the boy clung to him like a monkey, unwilling to let go of his father. Little Miles had a poor appearance, with a flushed face and his forehead covered in sweat. He felt a slight tug at his heartstrings as he noticed his son’s pitiful expression.

The colonel struggled to keep it together as he realized that his kid had caught whatever bacteria or virus he had, but the young child was obviously having a fever, which Miles had never experienced before. Just once, when he was a baby, around six months old or so, he did have a cold but without a fever. The marine won't deny that he overreacted at the time, but Paz was there to support him back then, and now she won’t.

Just breathe. It’s only a cold. Relax .

Even though it probably didn't help much, Quaritch cradled the boy close while gently rocking back and forth to try to comfort the boy.

The soldier looked up as some of the men and women shifted, not knowing how much time had gone since little Miles was in his arms. He grabbed his youngster once again as he began gathering his belongings after noticing that they were about to leave. He finally stood up with Miles still in his grasp after the government representatives ended their call.

Nobody seemed to give a damn, not even Parker, when they saw him in there with his son. He had a sneaking suspicion that no one cared all that much about this meeting. Even if the others weren't essentially the RDA's property because they were humans, they were literally there merely to sit and look pretty for all of the rich assholes. Fucking hell.

Z-Dog and Mansk followed them as they all left the room till they arrived at the stairway. While they were saying their goodbyes, Miles, who was practically asleep, opened his eyes slightly squinting and turned to face the other Recoms. "Take care big guy." The woman said as she noticed his eyes were a bit glassy and thought perhaps he was a little delirious.

The small boy didn't trust his voice and just uttered a soft "mhm" as his father told the pair, "If you two see Claire, tell her that I want to talk with her later," as he cradled his son against his side and pressed his face agasint his warm cheek for a few moments. Poor boy. You’re burning up Miles.

“Sure thing boss” and with that they split up and Quaritch descended the staircase so that he could get to the Recoms’ grounds.

When the boy was placed in bed, he dozed off right away. Quaritch took advantage of the opportunity and quietly left the room after he tucked the covers properly around the boy.

He also took his medication, but despite doing so, he still felt cold, heavy, and achy, and his sore throat had grown much worse over the previous few hours and he still had a splitting headache. He just hoped that he wouldn't get worse so that he could take care of the young boy.

Even though his initial intention was to just ask the kitchen staff to send something up for Miles to eat, he found himself personally going to the kitchen to fetch his son a bowl of yoghurt. As the colonel hadn't felt like having anything since yesterday, he hoped that little Miles would at least eat something.

Even though the boy was sleeping soundly when he returned to the bedroom, the young kid needed to eat something. Even if the colonel didn't want to wake him up, he did so. “Wake up tiger, I brought you some breakfast.”

Hearing his father’s voice, little Miles rubbed his eyes and forced them open and groaned. He struggled to try and sit up, quite shakily as his head swam. The colonel set the little bowl down, propped up his pillows and eased him gently into a sitting position. “Is it better like this?”

“Mm-hmm,” he replied, struggling to keep his eyes open.

Quaritch tried to place the bowl in his hands, but the boy almost dropped it, and instead the marine filled the spoon and held it out to him. “Open wide” Little Miles smiled slightly and obediently swallowed the yoghurt. The soldier remembered when the boy wouldn’t eat anything unless they said a phrase ‘here comes to airplane’ and he couldn’t believe that was years ago. Where the heck did the time go?

His son ate half of the youghurt and didn’t waste any time to fall back into the pillows saying that he was full. Quaritch then took one of the thermometers on the night stand and then asked the boy “How are you feeling tiger?”

“Bleh” Little Miles mutterred and that got a chuckle out of the colonel.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asked as he sat down on the end of the bed, a smile reappearing on his face.

“Ow” his son moaned. “It means that I feel bleh, dad.” and with that the little boy looked at his father with a miserable expression and Quaritch understood that he didn’t want to talk anymore. Little Miles’s throat was protesting and it just started to sting more and the marine made a mental note to ask Claire what she had given the boy and what he should give the youngster to relieve the irritation and pain for his throat.

“Open up” and little Miles obediently opened his mouth without trying to argue, and he placed the thermometer under his tongue. 37,5 —Even though the fever wasn't very high, he was nonetheless concerned. A tiny hand grabbed hold of his hand just as he was going to stand up and head to the nurse's office.

“Do you want me to stay with you?” He asked as he cleared his throat and the child eagerly nodded in response to his question then winced, indicating that his head must hurt. Just seeing him made Quaritch's heart hurt, so he eventually knelt down next to his kid beneath the blankets and allowed the youngster to cuddle up to him. Before giving the boy a quick kiss on the forehead, he began to gently smooth down his hair. He was still unable to comprehend how different the two of them were, especially given their sizes. The soldier only wanted to be able to constantly protect Miles because he was so so small.

The 4 year old yawned as he nuzzled closer to his father and noticed a soft smile on the colonel's face that was always meant for him and no one else. Quaritch was pleasantly delighted when the boy let a quiet "I love you" in spite of his throat's discomfort.

"I love you too, Miles." He spoke softly, and the child smiled and shut his eyes while exhaling once more in complete bliss. However, it didn't take him long to fall asleep.

He remained in bed with his son for a short while, keeping a close eye on him to determine when it was okay for him to leave. Even though Quaritch wasn't keen on getting out of his bed, he had to fetch the poor youngster some medication—even if it wasn't from Claire. The boy appeared to be already be asleep as the marine nervously gulped and cast one final glance down at him. Finally, he mustered the courage to get to his feet, leave the room, and make his way to the nurse's office.

The only person present was Marline, but the marine was too worn out to even ask about Claire. The only thing he wanted to do right now was sleep, but he could find her tomorrow and ask her why the heck Miles was left alone today. And he had every intention of doing just that.

He returned and placed each of the pills on the nightstand. According to the woman, Nurofen is the best medication for children, and Tantum green should relieve Miles' throat irritation. Gosh, he really should stop worrying so much; it was just a mild cold and no one would die from it.

Quaritch was once again covered up as he continued to repeat that in his brain. He just wanted to sleep since he was so exhausted. The marine moved farther down the bed to place his head on the pillow next to Miles's and felt bad since he knew his son was probably sick because of him. Poor boy. He kept thinking about pointless things for a while until his thoughts turned to Paz. He missed her so much, and wished she was there to help him take care of their son. He knew that she would know exactly what to do in this situation, but he felt lost without her. Quaritch remembered how she would always be the one to comfort him when he was scared or stressed. He missed her gentle touch, her warm hugs, and her calming presence.

He tried not to show it, but he was scared most of the time. It would have been much easier with her. Quaritch thought about all the things he wished Paz was here for. He wished she could see their son grow up, watch him learn to walk, talk, and laugh. He wished she could be here to hold their son and make him feel better when he was sick.

But he knew he had to be strong for his son.

He watched his boy's chest rise and fall with each breath,he knew that everything would be alright and in all honesty, he didn't even notice when his eyelids were beginning to close until he was quickly falling asleep.

Part 1/Part 2/Part 3/ Part 4/ ?

Notes: Sorry for updating this so slowly, but I’m so busy with school. I’ll try later this week to put a little drabble, a continuation for this part.

With that being said, hope you guys enjoyed and if any of you have some kind of ideas, I would be more than happy to write them.

[lady-o-ren]

Kiss The Blood From My Hands

For easier reading here's the Ao3 link (HERE)

//

Paris, 1756

Claire Beauchamp finds herself the target of Les Disciples du Mal, an underground cult that her Uncle Lamb had been investigating that ended with his murder. But she finds an unlikely savior in the darkly mysterious James Fraser who marries her to keep her from harm and just maybe to redeem his own tormented soul.

//

"But his flesh upon him shall have pain, and his soul within him shall mourn. "

Job 14:22

P A R I S

1 7 5 6

My husband was a stranger to me when we married some months ago.

All I had known was his name and that he'd been born somewhere in the Scottish Highlands ten years before myself in Oxfordshire yet had the look of a man twice his age, worn from a thousand wretched sleepless nights as I would soon learn.

 We did not share a marriage bed nor did we have love for one another, but there were moments where we found a quiet kinship here in this foreign land not our own. Be it in a shared glance of amusement at the absurdity of the many rules of etiquette we were subjected and expected to follow to an unexpected turn of phrase that tickled the other to a fleeting smile. 

He even indulged my interest in botany by giving me the run of his courtyard to grow a garden of my own, himself admitting to having lost the spirit to foster seed to green a lifetime ago. He never told me why, leaving me to wonder what sort of man he used to be that didn't shrink from the light. 

Our conversations were sparse but cordial. Sometimes strained with awkwardness and an undercurrent of something I couldn't quite explain that resulted in his inability to meet my eye, suddenly at a loss for words, and avoid my presence for long stretches of time. 

It was rather a lonely experience, our marriage, but I counted myself luckier than most. 

My husband was neither cruel nor violent towards me and he certainly never forced himself upon me when he so easily could. He was a good man if more than a bit rough around the edges but it was nothing I couldn't bear. 

Though his nightmares troubled me greatly.

They came infrequently. Loud and sorrowful, bursting with rage, waking me from bed with my heart a pounding, painful fist against my ribs. And the only way he could break the terrible hold these terrors had on his mind was to take to the streets of Paris only to return home well into the next day.

Sometimes I'd catch him coming up the backstairs to his bedroom much to his dismay. His eyes would be bloodshot, his knuckles bruised, reeking of alcohol and perfume that darkened his face with shame. 

I didn't need to ask where he'd been. 

Not that he would ever bear his heart to me. 

Or so I thought . . .

//

I laid awake in bed, staring into the dying flames of the hearthfire, with a copy of Manon Lescaut left abandoned on my lap. I hadn't been able to read more than a few pages of the doomed romance as I was far too distracted thinking about where my own Des Grieux was this awful rainy night.

But then I heard a noise from downstairs that gave my heart a jolt and sent poor Manon flying to the floor as I leapt out of bed, reaching for my robe. 

I hurried down the staircase in a flurry of yellow silk, guided only by the flashes of lightning that shone through the lone window, and called out -

"Jamie! Jamie, is that you?"

But only the howling wind and rain replied, provoking a frightful thought to mind. 

What if it wasn't Jamie downstairs nor even a creeping servant? 

What If . . . 

I shuddered, unable to finish the thought, as I recalled the night Jamie and I had first met. 

The night he had saved my life. 

And I was no better prepared to protect myself than I was back all those months ago.

But just as I inched my cold bare foot backwards on the step, a thin beam of light shot out into the hallway, signaling who the rain had brought home. 

I breathed a sigh of relief and followed the lighted path into the parlor where I stopped myself at the doorway. Struck by the sight of Jamie. 

But it wasn't his imposing figure or striking features that caught my eye - though it did give one the impression that he was made of something more than simple mortal flesh. 

He was leaning against the mantelpiece with water puddling around his boots, holding his right hand against his chest, bloodied black to the cuff of his sleeve.

"Jamie," I gasped, crossing the room. "What's happened to you?" 

Jamie snapped his head at me, sparking the red-gold flame of his hair like hellfire. 

"Away wi' ye," he said sharply. 

"But - " 

"Damn ye, Claire! Do as ye're told. For once." 

I flinched back as if I'd been slapped. 

Jamie never spoke to me out of anger. And scarcely did he ever call me Claire. My name was reserved for formal occasions or as a token of profound gentleness that always made my heart sore right at the center where it bled most tender. 

"I - I'm sorry - I -"

I saw Jamie's face twist with that familiar shade of shame and self-loathing as he bowed his head and thumped the mantle with his good fist, hard enough to disturb the hearth. 

"I'm sorry, lass. I didn't mean to snarl at ye. But I've the devil's temper tonight and canna bear the company. Now, get ye to bed . . . Please." 

The last was said so pitifully that I didn't spare a thought to consider Jamie's plea. Instead I reached for him and took his maimed hand in mine. 

"Push me away if you must but I won't leave you like this. Let me help you for once . . . Please."

I was met with grim silence and readied myself to be thrown out the parlor but then Jamie let out a brandy laced sigh, loosening the tension in his jaw and shoulders soaked from the rain. 

"What choice does a wretched beast like me have when ye've my paw in yer hands. Aye, Sassenach?"

I felt a warmth spread over my cheeks hearing Jamie's name for me that was his alone to speak, and lowered my face, hoping he didn't see. I then carefully peeled the bloodied stiff cuff away from the back of his big hand and tried not to wince.

"I see no thorn here, you poor beast. Unless you pulled it out with your teeth." I meant it in jest, glancing up at Jamie's face, but I found it set in cold hard stone. 

"Who did you hit?" I asked tentatively, imagining masked men in alleyways beneath the dark menacing glow of a blood moon.

 The truth instead broke my heart.

"A mirror," he answered flatly. "I didn'a like what I was seeing."

//

After fetching some much needed dressings for his hand I came back to the parlor and found Jamie as I had left him - By the hearthfire in his wingback chair with a throw I'd taken from the settee in the corner wrapped around him. An improvement over the soggy coat he was wearing that was left to drip over the mantle. 

His eyes were closed and his long legs were stretched out in front of him and for a moment I thought that maybe he'd fallen asleep, but then he cracked one dark eye open to scowl at me.

"Ye're going to enjoy this, aren't ye, Sassenach?" His mouth twitched at the corner and I felt my own do the same. He was only teasing me. 

"No, but I'll try not to laugh when I douse your hand in vinegar," I said, taking my place by his knee, and saw his eyes, circled by shadows and glossy from a night of drinking, twinkle like sapphires in the firelight. 

I set myself to work washing the blood from Jamie's right hand, taking particular care around his battered knuckles where the ugly gash stretched across them. Luckily, it looked worse than it was and would only need a suture or two. 

Here and there I'd glance up at him, watching me with a sort of quiet fascination as I worked, tired as he was. This time he caught my eye and murmured something drowsily, almost longingly, in gaelic. 

"What are you saying up there? Something beastly?" I asked, as I finished bandaging his hand. 

Jamie looked startled, maybe not realizing he had spoken aloud and quickly adjusted his features, cocking his stubbled chin down at me.

"I said that my hands afire with all yer poking and prodding and I'd like to have it back in one piece - Not that I don't appreciate yer mending," he amended, and twitched his nose at a damp forelock that hung low past his brow. 

"Well I'm all done here - I just . . ." I hesitated and bit the inside of my bottom lip. 

It must be now, I thought. For I didn't think I'd ever have the courage to be so forward with him again. 

"I just want you to know that you can talk to me, Jamie," I said softly. "Whatever it is that's troubling you, that keeps you up at night, you needn't suffer alone." 

He stiffened and his right hand would've curled into a fist if I hadn't taken a hold of it. 

"I have to," he said in a tone barely above a rasping whisper, looking down where our hands were linked. "Ye'd never be able to look me in the eye again if ye kent the truth of what haunts me. I couldn'a bear it, Sassenach. "

"Try me," I dared, giving him a little shake by the arm so he'd raise his gaze to mine. " Or do I have more faith in that gallant heart of yours than you have in mine?"

His eyes narrowed with seriousness and no short amount of pain. 

"You have no idea what little faith I had before I met ye, Claire. Tis why I fear losing whatever care ye have for me."

I leaned forward across his knees, my heart in my eyes. "Then trust me Jamie as I've trusted you unequivocally with my life. "

After what seemed a long silence, where I thought I could feel his pulse hammer against my palm, he spoke again.

"There were things done to me against my will that haunt me still," he began, and I saw a tremor ripple down his throat as he swallowed. "Whether I'm awake or when I dream, I feel the touch of the devil himself on my soul. My fear in hell is all that keeps me from taking a knife to my gullet and sometimes even then . . ."

"You don't mean that," I said half choked, feeling the pinprick of tears at the corner of my eyes threatening to fall as I shook my head.

A sad smile tugged on Jamie's mouth as he gently touched my cheek with the back of his good left hand. 

"Aye, ye're right. It was true before but now my life is bound to yers. For as long as ye need me, I'll always be at yer side, mo bheannachd."

I grasped his hand when I felt him pull away. Held it nearly to my throbbing heart. 

"Promise me then or I swear I'll drag you from the pits of hell just to strangle you."

Jamie blinked at me, wide-eyed, clearly caught off guard. Then leaned back into his chair and laughed deeply from his belly. I never heard such a sound from him before. 

"Christ, Sassenach! Only you would seek vengeance on a puir man pouring out his miserable heart to ye." He laughed again, bringing out a much needed flush to his face and clasped his other hand over mine.  

"Aye, I promise. I'll not leave ye. Not until ye find someone worthy of yer heart."

He meant it too. And I felt the truth of it pierce my breast. 

I hadn't given much thought to our arrangement. Our marriage was in name only and would only last for as long as my safety was in jeopardy or if I asked for a divorce.

I never once considered that Jamie might ask one from me if he were ever to find an attachment elsewhere.

"What about your heart, Jamie?" I asked around a hard knot lodged in my throat.

An extraordinary look of tenderness bloomed across Jamie's face that seemed to breathe life back into his soul that beamed bright through the shimmering blue of his eyes. 

"My loyalty is to you, mo ghràidh, and no one else. Not a Laird nor King. Even God would be jealous of such devotion."

I blushed not knowing what to say. I remembered the smell of perfume that sometimes clung to him whenever he'd come home from one of his ventures. 

Jamie then cleared his throat where I saw a red flush arise and carefully flexed his hand in front of his face.

"Thank ye for my hand, Sassenach. Ye've earned yerself a good lie in."

" And you? " I asked when I saw him slouch back into his chair. 

He gathered the throw tighter around him and shrugged. "Dinna fash. I'll stay here till the fire goes out." 

I sat stubbornly back on my heels and pulled my own robe tighter around myself. "Then I'll stay here with you. Maybe it will help."

"Help what? " 

"To keep your demons at bay. That's why you don't sleep. Being alone makes it worse, doesn't it?"

I immediately regretted what I had just said as I watched Jamie retreat into himself. Before I could apologize, he said with a bit of gravel to his voice -

"Do as ye wish, but not on the floor. And I'll put another log on the fire for us." 

I didn't remember falling asleep but I obviously had and woke up in my own bed. Still in my robe. With the faintest impression of something lovely pressed to my cheek.

Not a kiss. 

But warm breathed words, indecipherable, yet spoke to my heart. That swelled and overflowed with love. 

//

A/N: The notes for this are long so hit up ao3 if you're curious.

[the-lisechen]

idky people are saying s2 of the bear is bad, i'm on e9 and this rules. i mean, i can see why people would be annoyed, but just a few off the cuff observations

-fuck carmy tho. bro needs to get his shit together

- i do not know what they're trying to do with claire. obviously it's good that someone loves carmen, but why do they have this set up as a binary choice between that and the restaurant? are we supposed to like her? not like her? think she's good for carmy? think she's terrible?

-(i am reflexively not a fan of claire, being a sidcarmy person forever, but i'm not sure how it reads to an outside observer)

-marcus! his journey to europe! THE DESSERTS. wonderful side quest, wonderful idea to give him a whole episode. excellent worked

-richie. richie! RICHIEEEEE. i love him. i adore this perpetual fuckup. i love that he found his spot. i knew at least twenty guys exactly like him.

-chicago. i miss it every day, i miss it in my blood. i think i knew exactly where everything was for each shot, and it killed me. excellent work, guys.

-loved loved LOVED carmy getting stuck in the walk in and everyone immediately stepping up to run the restaurant. absolutely stellar. loved richie throwing 'i love you' in the middle of his rant. that felt very real to me.

syd! suffered more than jesus, exceedingly patient about it. the omelette! that was everything.

not even going into carmen's mom. awful. awful.

on the whole, really enjoyed it. i loved, so much, that people were open and honest about their feelings. i love that on some level this is a show about love, and how it saves us and how it really, really doesn't.

[toonabby]

Three days until Christmas (sorry I skipped out on the first two days)

(April 2024 update to fix spelling mistakes)

Since Christmas is three days away I'm just gonna list out a bunch of foreign, non-Japanese animation that debuted this year. I'm just gonna keep this first entry short and sweet:

The Girl Downstairs

I really liked the more laid-back tone of the series focusing on the male lead, a drop-out idol who lives at his apartment downstairs, and his college friends. Speaking of which I adore stories that are set in college and I want more works from SoL genre (or any genre in general) to take place in college, ESPECIALLY anime. I am sick and tired of anime only taking place in high schools especially when the dreaded "fanservice" trope is involved... 😒 (I also found out it was based on an ongoing webtoon as well as being one of the two adaptations released this year - the other being a live-action Netflix series called Doona!)

Xyrin Empire

Rare harem W Maybe its me excluding this (and DAL) from the terrible harem animes solely because its made in a different country from the same continent AND has CG animation that isn't god awful, but from what I seen of the first few episodes or so its not that. Not that good either since it falls into the tropes common in anime (the "boring but overpowered" MC, the love rivals, the 'tsundere' childhood friend, "really 300+ year old" childlike character who wears age-inappropriate attire), but I can at least tolerate this show compared to other works from this genre and even with the tropes there not as awful and apparent as the other harem animes, but that's probably because I haven't watched much from this show.

Rainbow Bubblegem

If this was an anime, then I'll pay my life-savings for what would be a return of the traditional Magical Girl genre in a loooong while after we've been bombarded with PMMM wannabees that fall in the "ow the edge" territory while forgetting what made MadoMagi phenomenal for the genre in the first place, remakes of old Magical Girl animes (e.g. Sailor Moon Crystal and Tokyo Mew Mew New), and the Precure franchise being the sole survivor of the traditional magical girl genre. I really like the premise that is essentially a combination of H2O: Just Add Water, Miraculous Ladybug, and Sailor Moon, and how Red Ruby (on of the main characters) isn't just a stereotypical alpha bitch, no she's actually helpful and friendly to the main girl, if a bit self-centered.

As for the shows I started to get invested in....

Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends (2004)

This is a childhood of mine that resurfaced in my mind. Out of all of the Cartoon Network shows this one is my personal favorite, and I'm really excited on what the new preschool show spin-off will take us to. That, and me being a Bloo fan since I've started remembering this show. "It's hoooooot in to-pe-kaaaaaaaaaaaaaa."

Ba Da Bean (2021)

I adore the show's aesthetic of an arts and crafts-laden environment where everything and I mean EVERYTHING was made out of art (such as the houses being cardboard boxes or an impossible bottle) and the 'fish out of water' premise of a science project from a school's science lab transferring to an art class where he gets to meet and befriends the town's residents while also having a knack for science. I love the dynamic between Bean and Cosa too. Kami the origami bibliophile is my favorite solely because of how relatable she is (I'm also an introvert). That's of course mnot even mentioning the impressive voice cast of the English dub such as Stephanie Panisello (Resident Evil's Claire Redfield and Genshin Impact's Cloud Retainer/Xianyun), Suzie Yeung (Chainsaw Man's Makima, Genshin Impact's Eula, and HSR's Hanya), Amber "FoxyVox" May (Genshin Impact's Dehya and HSR's Yanqing), Dino Andrade (Zuzubaland's Zuzu, whose dub coincidentally was also recorded by the studio that recorded BDB's dub, BangZoom!), and Kelly Baskin (Genshin Impact's Amber and Azure Striker Gunvolt 3's Kirin), with four of the working on Genshin Impact and two on Honkai: Star Rail.

FriendZSpace (2021)

I'll be real. Had it not been for the official YouTube channel uploading all of the BangZoom dubbed episodes (plus the Discovery Kids LA YT channel uploading a few clips of the eps in Spanish), this show would've likely become lost media. When I first watched the show in English I enjoyed it, and I was actually surprised that one of the sealife characters in the first episode was voiced by Melissa Fahn, and I couldn't believe it at first glance she sounded nothing like the other roles Fahn played. Other than that I loved the show and wised I got more from it.

Underdogs United (2022)

For the most part, I didn't even acknowledge that this show was an actual thing until a year later; even the more obscure cartoons from South America at least had a cult following. Even less was me acknowledging this show is a TV adaptation/spin-off of Metegol, a movie with three of the main Foosball players (Capi, Beto, and Loco - the precursor to Kiko) being transplanted there with a bunch of original characters. Hell, the company and producer of the original film (MundoLoco CGI and Juan J. Campanella respectively) also made UU, and Metegol itself is an adaptation of Memoirs of a Right Winger - a short story by Roberto Fontanarrosa that film loosely based itself on. In other words, a TV series about Foosball figures living in a sport-centric world spun-off from a movie about said Foosball figures coming to life in the real world which was loosely adapted from a short-story by an author from Argentina who died 6 years before the movie came out....

Anyways, of the characters I like in UU, it's THE BETO! His personality can be basically described with any adjective for self-centeredness. He's so egotistical that his spot in the intro has him flexing his muscles after he kicks the ball, AND THEN looks at the camera with smug-ish eyebrows and puckered lips. But what I really like about him is not his selfishness but rather the fact that he is deep-down a kind and friendly individual who cares for his allies and would even put aside his arrogance to help others. That's what I like about him - he's selfish, but not too selfish to the point of being annoying. He's obsessed with his looks and popularity but when the chips are down, he'll prioritize the safety of his allies and his loved ones over his own.

[gible-love-nibles-archive]

You know what? Clarissa — my Pokemon Trainer S/I— lore be upon you because of Scarlet and Violet

She was born on Sinnoh in Twinleaf Town and when she was 10, she started her Pokemon journey with her friend Barry. But her start was… pretty unique to most other Trainers.

You see, Professor Rowan was keeping a wild Gible in his lab at the time. It had wandered into town, exhausted and hungry. Rowan was planning on getting it back to health, and then releasing it.

But once the Gible saw Clarissa, it became immediately attached to her. It followed at her feet like a duckling and only listened to her commands. Initially she was a little freaked out, but then she was estatic (she could be a bit more like her idol, Clair of the Johto Region).

Rowan eventually agreed to let Clarissa take care of the Gible (which she nicknamed Fangor) and she picked her starter Pokemon, Turtwig (Pistachio).

She’s been journeying for a long time: she’s collected all the regions’ badges (in rough order: Sinnoh, Johto, Kanto, Hoenn, Unova, Kalos, Alola, Galar) and is basically a Trainer legend whispered on the winds.

She doesn’t let it get to her head though. She’s always up for a Pokemon battle or just something fun to do. Most people find it hard to keep up with her though, with how crazy some of her ideas of fun are. Including training with her own Pokemon (you know how Drayden is said to wrestle with his Pokemon? Yeah, same thing. She has a bunch of scars from these methods, but she’s never stopped doing it!)

Gonna put what she’s doing in Scarlet under the cut

Clarissa had never been to school. She was basically homeschooled by her mom and the Pokemon research she did as a kid.

When Clarissa came back home from a Galar adventure, her mom sprung on her that she signed her up at Naranja Academy. Clarissa tried to argue and get her mom to cancel, but her mom said it wasn’t about the classes (Clarissa probably knows most of the curriculum already). What she really wanted was for her daughter to make friends.

(Clarissa has been going through a character arc throughout her long ass journey. Basically, at the end of Sinnoh, Something Terrible happened to a childhood friend of hers and she was running away from processing it throughout Johto and Kanto. It’s only at Hoenn that it finally hits her and she can start to process. Through Unova and Kalos, she tries to be more open to others; it only kinda works. It starts to really work in Alola and Galar. But no one really stuck to her as friends besides a few people. Which is where Paldea comes in.)

Clarissa agrees upon hearing that, and she hitches a ride to Paldea.

School life takes a lot of effort for Clarissa to get used to. She’s never really worked on a schedule before. Sure, she’s had to plan days around events before, and it’s not she doesn’t have her own internal schedule. But school life feels so rigid to her; she does Not Like It.

Luckily, her teachers are very kind and enthusiastic about their subjects. Her favorites are the language, art, and home ec teachers, but her overall favorite class is battle teaching. Least favorite class is history (she’s sus of the teacher). [Please don’t spoil what happens with the teachers in the story; I’ve only beaten three gyms]

Clarissa’s reputation has a interesting effect around the school. She’s basically swarmed any time she’s not in class with questions about her from the other students, but she’s also pretty lonely. People mostly want to hang out with her to get their five seconds of fame so to speak, and it makes her feel awful.

That’s not to say she hasn’t made any connections: she basically became a tutor and she helps out other students who are struggling in class. She’s a good study buddy.

[love-toxin]

ok i CANNOT believe they made leon a nepo baby r u fr......anyways i finished it & wow. if u like resident evil? don't know anything about it yet? just play the games...I'm begging u....its an ok time-killer but good LORD that movie was bad. unforgivably bad.

(yes....im going to rant my critiques below. spoilers!!)

why think you can cram 2 1/2 games into a not even 2hr movie? why cross timelines & plot structures when they're (clearly) not well understood by the writers? why is the dialogue so stilted & awkward? why are u confusing clever, cheeky humour that exists to break tension with totally awful b-movie action lines? why is the cgi so overused & terrible in all the wrong places? why does jill wanna fuck wesker? why is everyone in rc running around with perfectly manicured & coloured nails?? why are u taking awful evils & villain characters that act as foils to the protagonists & trying to make them palatable victims & good guys?? why are u butchering perfectly good protagonist characterizations & backstories?? why add a 4 minute scene of total darkness & intermittent flashing where i can't even see what the hell is going on?? if you were going to cross games, why use the 2 games (re1 & re2) that take place a month apart & not the two (re2 & re3) that happen on the SAME NIGHT?? IN THE SAME PLACE??¿¿

and perhaps worst of all for me personally, WHY take a refreshingly heroic, naive, & selfless male protagonist with strong values & kindness and make a mockery of it all??¿¿ the other stuff is imo just products of bad storytelling, organization, & budget, but leon's place in this particular movie just sincerely irritates me. the actor didn't do a bad job either (imo, esp compared to some other actor picks) & the way he's set up to intentionally be a punching bag just bugs me. he's portrayed as kind of useless & the other protagonists (chris & jill mostly) end up taking over his roles to reinforce the redundancy ig the writers wanted for him. BOO!!! TOMATOES!!! ik it's a funny haha movie but the dumbing down of genuinely good characters into love interests & idiots, esp strong female & sensitive male ones, (ie. jill, leon, & to an extent claire) in this day & age is simply disappointing. JAIL!! jail for 1000 years!!!!!!

honestly i totally forgot that they made an re2 live action movie until just recently & while im not....a fan, so to speak, of the movie's overall quality so far....the exaggerated & inherent patheticism of their leon casting....well, he's starting to grow on me 🥺💦

[mostlysignssomeportents]

A New York law to end to Wall Street's pension ripoff

The “Shield of Boringness” — c.f. Dana Claire — is a scammer’s weapon. Layering scams in complexity lets villains get away with all kinds of nastiness. Some things are hard to understand because they’re complex, but some things are complex so they’ll be hard to understand.

In finance, this is sometimes called MEGO: “my eyes glaze over” — complex scams designed to bore their victims into submission. All of us are vulnerable to MEGO, because there’s only so many hours in a day and at a certain point, your eyes just start to slide over the legal mumbo-jumbo without any of it registering.

For me, the most powerful MEGO is the bottomless scamming of public pensions by private equity firms. In some distant way, I knew that there was something really terrible going on there, and that pension managers and PE looters were colluding to rip off billions, maybe trillions, from workers’ pensions. But despite how awful that is, every time I encountered an article about this scam, I just bounced off it. Just the word CALPERS was enough to send me into a coma.

But finally a piece of reporting has penetrated the Shield of Boringness, perhaps because it’s a rare (unprecedented?) piece of good news about this whole awful mess. Writing for The Lever, Matthew Cunningham-Cook reports on New York A09948, “to amend the retirement and social security law, in relation to disclosing certain investment managers and investments.”

https://www.levernews.com/wall-streets-biggest-secret-could-be-exposed/

The things this law would require are a kind of inverse-mold of the scam itself, like flipping a doctored photo to negative to spot the tampering. If this law passes, then, for the first time, the Wall Street firms that handle New York’s $269B public pension would have to disclose the cozy — and nakedly corrupt — contracting terms they arrive at with the funds’ overseers. For example, it would require disclosure of when fund managers charge private jets to the pension fund:

https://www.ft.com/content/1212b266-8760-4766-a03e-9e7db203b5d2

But gold-plated expenses are just the obvious part of the corruption. The good stuff is pure MEGO: for example, the Carlyle Group’s contracts reserve the right to invest pensions’ money in ways that lose money for the pension, but make money for Carlyle Group execs and their pals:

https://files.adviserinfo.sec.gov/IAPD/Content/Common/crd_iapd_Brochure.aspx?BRCHR_VRSN_ID=500146

Leaked contracts reveal that public pensions have to promise not to demand a jury trial if they get ripped off by private equity firms, and to indemnify fund managers for all misconduct unless it rises to the (very high bar of) “fraud, gross negligence or willful misconduct.”

Some of these contracts explicitly waive the “fiduciary duty” — the obligation on fund managers to put the pensioners’ interests ahead of their own.

If passed, the New York bill will expose standard contracting terms that stretch out nationwide, thanks to all of the cities, towns and states that enter into comparable high-risk/high-fee arrangements with the same Wall Street firms.

It will force private equity firms to disclose what they’re buying with pensioners’ money — for example, if they’re buying group homes, laying off staff, and killing and maiming the residents, as KKR did with public pension money:

https://www.buzzfeednews.com/article/kendalltaggart/kkr-brightspring-disability-private-equity-abuse

These disclosures will bring more scrutiny to the public officials who want to hand even more pension money to PE firms, like NYC comptroller Brad Lander, who received giant campaign contributions from the finance industry and abandoned his campaign promise to halt public pension investments in planet-killing industries:

https://www.levernews.com/new-yorks-pension-reformer-goes-rogue/

Wall Street looters will fight this tooth-and-nail. They call these contracts “trade secrets” and compare forcing disclosure of their deals to forcing Coke to reveal its secret recipe:

https://www.pehub.com/confidentiality-of-limited-partnership-agreements-is-paramount/

It’s their position that terms governing the the public billions they’re entrusted with are immune to transparency laws, and they advise officials to resist public records requests regarding their deals:

https://www.wsj.com/articles/buyout-firms-push-pension-funds-to-keep-information-under-wraps-1415142588

These firms killed similar legislation in Kentucky:

https://www.reuters.com/article/us-kentucky-pensions/kentucky-pension-funds-push-back-against-fee-disclosure-bill-idUSKCN0VW22O

They buried a class-action suit to force the State of Kentucky to disclose the terms of its deal with the Wall Street firms that lost billions in pension money:

https://www.nakedcapitalism.com/2021/02/mayberry-v-kkr-kentucky-attorney-general-shows-true-colors-looks-over-eager-to-settle-pathbreaking-pension-case-rather-than-inconvenience-private-equity-kingpins-blackstone-and-kkr.html

In Colorado, an effort to force disclosure died when public pension officials killed it:

https://leg.colorado.gov/sites/default/files/2018a_200_signed.pdf

The Center for Economic and Policy Research’s co-director Eileen Appelbaum succinctly described the disclosure demand to Cunningham-Cook: “How good are the contracts? What are the fees, expectations in terms of returns?” These are modest demands, and the outright refusal to meet them should raise alarm bells.

This is especially true in light of the corrupt arrangements that have been revealed, like former NYC Comptroller Alan Hevesi’s conviction of taking bribes from Carlyle Group in exchange for access to the city’s pension money. DiNapoli, the new comptroller, promised an ethics overhaul — and then spectacularly failed to deliver. How bad is it? Navnoor Kang, the former NYC head of fixed incomes, went to prison in 2018 for taking bribes from brokers:

https://www.wsj.com/articles/former-new-york-pension-fund-executive-sentenced-to-21-months-in-prison-1531429910

And now, DiNapoli’s Chief Investment Officer Vicki Fuller has jumped ship for PE giant Blackstone after doing business with the company on the city’s watch. No word on whether she’ll be representing Blackstone in its negotiations with her former colleagues.

https://realassets.ipe.com/news/new-york-common-puts-500m-into-blackstone-and-prologis-funds/10025112.article

This transparency bill cuts through MEGO. Simply enumerating the things it will force disclosure of is a powerful reminder of how bad business-as-usual is today.

https://nyassembly.gov/leg/?default_fld=&leg_video=&bn=A09948&term=0&Summary=Y&Memo=Y&Text=Y

Image: Ken Lund (modified): https://www.flickr.com/photos/kenlund/7236960208

CC BY-SA 2.0: https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/

JSquish (modified): https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Wall_Street_Sign_NYC.jpg

CC BY-SA 3.0: https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/deed.en

Sam Valadi (modified) https://www.flickr.com/photos/132084522@N05/17086570218/

CC BY 2.0: https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/

[Image ID: A street scene, looking down Front Street from Wall Street. Superimposed on the image are a crook-backed elderly beggar, the Charging Bull statue, and a Wall Street street-sign. Dancing atop the sign is a caricature of Rich Uncle Pennybags from Monopoly; he has removed his face to reveal a grinning skull beneath.]

[prettytoxicrevolver]

Speak Now | Quackity

Requested? Never

Warnings? None?

Summary: You have to watch your best friend and secret crush get married. (Based off Speak Now by Taylor Swift!)

Word Count: 1,581

Alex holds the velvet box out to you, flipping it open to show an elegant wedding ring. Your eyes flip back and forth from the ring to Alex, a nervous smile spread across his lips.

“Do you like it?” he asks.

Honestly, you didn’t know. You didn’t know if you liked the ring, didn’t know if you could tell Alex through tight lips and locked jaw that his girlfriend would love it. You didn’t know if you could lie straight through your teeth.

Instead, you wanted to tell him that the ring was perfect but he was giving it to the wrong girl. That he should be showing you the ring while asking the question you had dreamed of for so long.

But unfortunately, that’s not how things work.

You had been in love with your best friend for years now and while you never took Alex for someone who was clueless, he certainly challenged that when it came to your feelings. It was like he became blind to your compliments, your loyalty, your selflessness, your attention, your physical touch, everything. You swore he just thought of it as being “good friends”.

So, the minute he pulled out a diamond ring for his girlfriend, your heart couldn’t help but shatter the little bit left holding out for Alex.

“It’s gorgeous,” you tell him and relief visibly floods through him.

“I’m so excited,” he says, leaning forward and wrapping you up in a hug.

“Me too,” you say quietly into his shoulder, holding back tears.

In the days following, you watched as Alex announced his engagement to you, your friends, and all of his fans. When the notification graced your phone, you couldn’t help but cry. You had become used to Alex not returning your feelings but this? This was permanent and real, and a reminder that Alex didn’t love you the way you loved him.

However, as all best friends do, you put on a smile. You accepted when he asked you to be a part of his wedding party and excitedly planned along with him, taking a piece of your heart out and giving it to Alex every chance and him walking over it unknowingly.

The months leading up to the wedding were excruciating. And you were shocked when they only got worse.

“(y/n)?” Alex asks one day.

You look up at him, nerves coursing through you as he looks at you with worried eyes. Your heart falls, somehow knowing and having no clue what the next words out of his mouth would be.

He sits next to you, his focus on the carpet before him, toeing at the fabric with his foot nervously. He glances at you for a moment as his hands come together in front of him. Everything about him screams anxiety, and you want to rub his back and tell him that everything is going to be okay.

“You,” he hesitates and for a moment you think he’s crying, but convince yourself it’s the terrible lighting in your apartment.

“You can’t come to the wedding,” he finally chokes out.

Your head tilts, and for a moment it feels like someone wrapped a hand around your heart and squeezed.

“Wha-“ you start but Alex talks over you, word vomiting like no tomorrow.

“Claire said she would feel uncomfortable with you there and wants me to take a step back from our friendship.”

Alex’s eyes flicker from the ground he’s so fixated on, to your blank expression. You felt like this was one big prank. That it had to be a joke being uninvited to your best friend’s wedding. While you knew your heart would be cracking and falling to pieces at the altar in front of you when you saw Alex get married, you still didn’t want to miss your best friend’s big life event.

You’re utterly speechless, as Alex apologizes once more, before pressing a kiss to the top of your head and leaving. You sit in the same position, rethinking the conversation for what feels like hours.

Alex felt like he left his heart in that apartment with you. He felt like he had severed a limb, and it was missing after telling you the news about his wedding. Truly, you meant everything to him. You were the girl who had captured his heart and would entrust you with it forever, knowing you’d never do anything to hurt him.

And yet that’s all he was doing to you and himself. He wished all of those years ago he had said something, done something, manned up, and just admitted it to you. But here he was, feeling like he needed to go through with this to hold a semblance of happiness in the future.

You had finally snapped yourself out of the shock, your body moving without really thinking about the motions. You find yourself calling Karl, your best friend who knew everything about the situation between you and Alex. He was even the one to introduce the two of you.

You explain what happened in quiet sentences, Karl insisting he’ll be over in a flash. It’s true, it feels like you’re up and answering the door in the next few minutes to a pity-stricken Karl.

“Honey,” he frowns, pulling you into a tight hug.

“I don’t want to see him get married but I don’t want to miss it,” you whine and Karl’s frown deepens.

“They gave me a plus one, just come with me,” he decides and you look up at him, hope in your eyes.

“I’m sure as hell not going alone and definitely not going without you there,” you giggle lightly and lean up to press a kiss to Karl’s cheek.

As the day of the wedding approaches, you and Alex talk less and less. He had distanced himself ever since breaking the news to you and you had half hated it and half appreciated it. You were able to nurse your heartbreak and prepare yourself for one of the hardest days.

On the day of the wedding, you get ready with a hint of nerves. Your hands shake putting your earrings in, and it’s practically impossible to fasten your heels. Just as you’re attempting to put on a necklace, the doorbell rings. You sigh, heading over and swinging it open to see Karl standing before you.

You take in his appearance, a soft smile crossing your lips as you hold out the necklace in front of you.

“Can you help?”

Karl doesn’t respond at first, scanning your body up and down in awe. You had picked out a pale pink dress, white heels, and scarce jewelry but you look stunning nonetheless.

“Holy smokes,” he breathes out.

“Oh shut up,” you joke but smile wide at your friend regardless.

Karl finally takes the necklace from your hands, pulling it around your neck and fastening it till it sits just right. His hands trail over your shoulders, squeezing them lightly before dropping his hands.

“Ready?”

“As I ever will be.”

The venue is gorgeous, nothing less for the bride. You and Karl make your way in, your eyes wandering about the room and taking in the details. You find her family sitting in the front row, annoyed looks matching their obnoxious outfits. You try not to frown as you see people greeting each other fondly, speaking fond words about the future husband and wife.

You find seats together and Karl watches you as your face falls, hearing the sound of the wedding march. The music is grating on your ears, another reminder that you never wanted to be here in the first place.

Everyone begins to stand, and you turn to look at the girl who had stolen your best friend’s heart. She floats down the aisle like a pageant queen, her dress flowing behind her. You risk a glance at Alex and find he’s already staring at you.

Alex was shocked when he saw you sitting with his best friend at his wedding. His heart seized at the sight of you in a beautiful dress, and his mind wanders to how you would look in a wedding dress, walking towards him now.

It feels like the wedding goes by in a blur, your heart shattering slowly, piece by piece as vows are exchanged.

“Should anyone present know of any reason that this couple should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace,”

It’s dead silent as the preacher looks over the crowd, and without a second thought, you stand. From next to you Karl’s eyes widen and you feel your hands shake as you look at Alex. The rest of the crowd stares up at you with horrified looks, and you half expect someone to yell at you to sit back down.

“I am not the kind of girl who should be doing this,” you start your eyes never leaving Alex’s.

“But you are not the kind of boy, who should be marrying the wrong girl,” you finish.

The entire crowd is in an uproar, the only person on your side being Karl who cheers loudly at your proclamation. Alex steps towards you and you make your way out of the aisle. He approaches you, uncertainty is in his eyes.

“Don’t say yes, run away with me, make the right choice,” you whisper, and his look of uncertainty falls into one of careful consideration.

“Okay,” he says and a smile widens onto your lips.

“Let’s go.”

[gotham-ruaidh]

Little Bit Better Than I Used To Be

Catch up: Chapter 1 (Starry Eyes) || Chapter 2 (Save Our Souls) || Chapter 3 (Dancing On Glass) || Chapter 4 (Merry-Go-Round) || Backstage (1) || Backstage (2) || Chapter 5 (Danger) || Backstage (3) || Chapter 6A (Love Walked In) || Chapter 6B (Without You) || Backstage (4) ||| Also posted at AO3

Chapter 7: Stick To Your Guns

Get a grip on yourself // Get in shape for tonight // Take a look at yourself or your dreams // You're losing sight...

You got to stick to your guns // What's right for you, ain't right for everyone...

Soundtrack: “Stick To Your Guns,” Mötley Crüe, 1981 [click here to listen]

Time passed.

Claire’s sessions with Gillian progressed well. For five mornings a week, ninety minutes at a time, slowly they untangled the path that had led Claire to despair, to addiction, and to The Ridge.

Claire started keeping a daily gratitude journal. For Gillian had helped her understand that she had so very much to be grateful for. Almost every entry featured Jamie – something he’d shared with her, or something small she’d done for him, or a few chords he’d played on his guitar, or a new memory she’d timidly shared – thanks to his quiet, patient encouragement.

Afternoons were for Group, and for recreation. And now that the summer was in full swing, she was volunteering in the garden. It was Glenna’s pride and joy – and grew a healthy range of herbs and fruits and vegetables to be harvested at various points through the summer and served in The Ridge’s kitchens. And Glenna’s passion quickly rubbed off on Claire – who had never gardened in her life, but absolutely relished getting dirt under her fingernails and harvesting from the plants she’d tended to so carefully.

Together with Marsali and Jamie – and a shy newcomer, Elias Pound, barely out of high school but terribly addicted to painkillers – she continued to prep and clear the dining room each evening. With Gillian’s encouragement, she took Elias under her wing, guiding him through The Ridge’s process much like others had when she had first arrived.

And when Elias quietly shared that he wanted to be a doctor – she’d started giving him pointers on what to study, how to focus his energy, and how best to mentally prepare himself for what that life would be like. A life certainly without pills.

Her medical skills had come in handy a few times, too.

There was the evening when Glenna had cut a deep gash in the back of her hand as she’d sliced corn off the cob for dinner. Claire had expertly and calmly sutured the wound, with Elias’ diligent assistance. To the applause of the small crowd that had gathered, watching.

And there was the morning when Geneva had been stung by a bee and had a terrible allergic reaction. Dougal had burst into Claire’s session with Gillian, seeking urgent help. For all that Dougal was opinionated and in charge, he clearly knew when to step back – quickly doing as Claire bade, following her down the hall and bringing her adequate supplies to stop the swelling.

And of course there was the lunch, one rainy day, when Rupert had eaten his roast beef sandwich a little too enthusiastically and began to choke. Swiftly Claire mobilized, and with a few pushes of his diaphragm the half-chewed sandwich spewed all over the table. Everyone in the dining room had cheered.

She had a purpose.

She belonged.

She’d proudly told Uncle Lamb all about it (for patients at The Ridge received phone privileges – one thirty-minute phone call every three days – once they’d been there for two weeks). And Lamb certainly shared her joy.

“You just sound healthier, my dear.” He blew his nose into the receiver. “Excuse me. Claire – I feel awful saying this to you, but I think you’ll understand now. You were so desperately unhappy for such a long time, but you didn’t want any help dealing with it, and I felt utterly paralyzed – ”

“It’s all right,” she reassured him, twisting the phone cord in her free hand, watching through the windows as a few people played volleyball on the lawn. “I wasn’t ready to hear any of it. But now I am.” She paused. “Lamb, I’m so, so sorry. I’m sorry for what happened, and I’m sorry for how bad it got, and I’m sorry for disappointing you.”

“Oh, lovie. There’s nothing to be sorry about. I – ” His voice choked. “I’m just so glad you’re off of those stupid pills, and I’m so glad that you’re getting the help that you need.”

“I’m lucky to have really good people here, who want to help me. To build new habits, and to break the old ones. Did I tell you I’ve really gotten into gardening?”

“Yes! You’ll have to tell me more about it the next time we talk.”

“I will. All right – our half hour is just about up. I love you.”

“Oh I love you, Claire. Stay well.”

She hung up and sighed.

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

HI i just wanted to say that i really enjoy your twilight metas (as those are the only ones ive read so far) and you're a genius. it's awesome to me how realistically you think about characters and the plot, which i have never been able to do because i always get confused. thank you especially for your post about jacob and how the fandom treats him bc ive always had mixed feelings! i love him (the fanon/new moon him ofc) but i also felt rly weird about the whole SA thing, especially as a brown boy thats been villainized (i didnt SA anyone i just realized how that sounds) i understood that it had racist roots but it still...happened, yk? anyways u put it beautifully and its alot easier to understand how i feel about him now. also like everything else u post about!! i despise the cullens w my every being but its so entertaining to see their dynamic and actions laid out. mostly bc it solidifies my hatred but anyways. they also kind of change my views on other characters, like i always kinda liked bella (i dont like alot of things she does but alot of the fan content i see on her made her feel rly relatable) and its rly interesting to see that she would be a kind of absent parent, bc id never considered it like that and it makes so much sense and woah. u have so much evidence to back up ur theories and opinions too--i tend to get lost in fanon but i dont rly do that w ur posts! even ones where ur spitballing its just muah chefs kiss i love. i write alot of self fulfilling fanfiction and tbh it does not feel the same when the characters r too ooc and ur posts have helped a fuck ton! ur super cool and i love ur stuff keep going :)

i do have some questions tho u dont have to acknowledge it at all and ik you tend to focus more on the cullens, but what do you think the wolf pack is like now that jacob, leah, and seth have left, and now that they have so many new members? do you think any other girls would have shifted and how would they be treated? ik leah was kind of alienated in canon not only bc shes a girl but also bc of her feelings, and i cant tell if the pack would be wary of her/treat her the same as leah, or if they would have learned their lesson.

have a good day!

Well first, thank you, I'm very flattered. I'm going to go ahead and acknowledge @therealvinelle here as well as she's I believe the one who originally posted the post about the very complicated topic of Jacob Black and his terrible choices throughout the series.

As for your questions there are a few pack questions in my inbox but it's mostly a matter that people keep asking questions about Bella and she keeps getting eaten.

Also, I'm not sure you want me answering these questions. Like all of Twilight, it's a bleak pit of despair.

But here we go

What About the Pack/Tribe After Breaking Dawn

There's a lot of shit going on in the tribe right now. Jacob leaving is just part of it.

They have an unprecedented number of shifters in the community and that's going to spell... a lot of issues in the years to come.

Namely, per Sam and Emily, domestic violence will be through the roof and kept very hushed up for the understandable reason of these people look like they were mauled by bears. This will also likely increase the number of deaths in the tribe, especially among those who are young. Accidents happen, it's not good, this is going to have a devastating impact on the people.

You also have a lot of angry, disaffected, young men who can no longer really be a part of society. They can't really attend school, can't even really leave the reservation for fear of turning into a wolf, they can't hold a job, at the age of nineteen or younger they each had their futures ripped away from them.

Some, Seth, handle this very well (possibly because he hasn't clued into what this means yet), others like Jake... do not. These people have had their lives turned upside down and in some cases utterly ruined: that's not good in any society.

Then you have the imprinting, lord, the imprinting.

To date, there's the Sam, Emily, and Leah disaster. The three of them handled it very well, but it still utterly destroyed Leah's life and emotional stability. Not helping, of course, is that Leah has had her very identity taken from her, has no privacy, and her only option of escape is to follow Jacob around which... we'll get to in a few paragraphs.

Added to that, you have the Claire/Quil disaster, in which the tribe is desperately trying to handle it by a) keeping it very quiet b) trying to make Quil just be the babysitter. That's unlikely to work out for them and is just angstfest all around and no one's fault.

And then, of course, Jacob/Renesmee. Jacob, having now imprinted, will follow Renesmee to the ends of the earth. He has no other purpose now. Which means that Leah and Seth, who are in his pack, get to follow along and uproot their lives. For the tribe this means they'll never be rid of the Cullens, not truly, and Billy has lost his son entirely. Not to mention it's guaranteed to go awful places.

Then you have the paternity questions this whole thing drudges up, the trauma of these children having to be sacred warriors and having slaughtered demons with human faces, many of whom were also once children and more.

The tribe and the pack are a goddamn mess.

Jacob imprinting on the Cullen hybrid daughter and leaving the tribe? Yeah, it's weird and no one likes it, but that isn't even the peak of the nonsense these people have to deal with.

Would the Other Girls Shift?

No.

Leah seems to have won the genetic shitty lottery. In 600 years of shifting, there has never been another woman, and Leah has all shifting bloodlines in her veins.

It seems Leah was just very unlucky.

Were other girls to shift I imagine they'd face much the same situation. Suddenly teenage boys are witnessing them naked, all the time, they have no choice to become sacred warriors (a role not typically meant for women and which will very much feel like 'the boy's club') and I don't get the idea that anyone learned anything from Leah.

Jake certainly didn't, he just thought she was Uber Bitch until she begged him to let her in his new pack and reminded him she was a human being with feelings.

The concept genuinely had not occurred to him.

TL;DR Remember kids, Twilight is despair

[paulsbettanys]

Screenwriter Sarah Phelps, Paul Bettany, and Claire Foy on “A Very British Scandal”

‘It is a story about a phenomenal woman, a pretty difficult, hurt man, and an absolute f—king mess of a marriage,’ [Phelps] says.

Foy finds it ‘incredibly dispiriting’ that the sexist shorthand for Margaret Argyll remains ‘Dirty Duchess’. ‘This moralistic weaponising of women’s sexuality – in either direction – is deeply irritating. You’re damned if you do and you’re damned if you don’t. You’re damned if you’re too frumpy and you’re damned if you’re too sexy. It’s dull, so dull. The conversation hasn’t moved on at all.’

What intrigued her most, she says, is the husband-and-wife relationship at the emotional heart of the drama. ‘I was moved by that. It’s about two people who fall in love and then hate each other.’

The series’ director, Anne Sewitsky, describes the Foy-Bettany chemistry as ‘sparkling from the first’. The sophisticated nuance between them, she says, ranging from cruel to vulnerable, would sometimes take the story in unexpected directions.

‘Some of the scenes I got to act with Claire,’ says Bettany – speaking on Zoom from South Carolina, where he is filming (but cannot say what) – ‘were some of the most thrilling moments as an actor that I have ever had.’ The two had never worked together before. ‘Enough cannot be said about how brilliant Claire Foy was.’

Does Bettany, 50, think the Duke has any redeeming features? ‘Well,’ he replies, laughing, ‘I think he’s got a very nice nose.’

He sees the Duke as ‘an undiagnosed sociopath in search of a codependent partner. In the courtroom, he feels a great sadness, as a sadist, that his partner has chosen not to play that game any more. He’s bereft that she’s got out from under.’

The real scandal, he feels, is that ‘when the chips are down, the aristocracy, including Margaret’s friends, surround and protect the Duke. I hope the conversation can be about the class system that protected this dreadful human being and less about the rather boring sexual stuff.’

Foy agrees: ‘She [the Duchess] thought, somebody somewhere is going to say this isn’t right. He was violent and an alcoholic and an all-round terrible husband and someone’s going to agree with me. And they never did. They just never did. And they may never – even after this programme.’

[...]

Much of the exterior filming for A Very British Scandal was done in lockdown at Inveraray Castle, seat of Clan Campbell, and the Scottish backdrop to impending disaster is stunning. Torquhil Campbell, the 13th Duke, and his wife Eleanor hosted the crew and advised on clan tartan and costume.

‘The experience was a weird mix of the peculiar and the beautiful,’ says Bettany. ‘We had amazing days on the glassy loch. And yet we were aware of it as the location where all this awfulness happened. The Duke showed us around the house that Margaret renovated.’ Phelps says he joked that it was thanks to her that the family had bathrooms and good plumbing.

[hen-of-letters]

@spnprideweek day one: flags

This little ficlet for #spnprideweek is brought to you by my big, non-binary bisexual love for this beautiful fandom, and my desire to fix that moment in 'Baby' when Cas indulges Dean by saying "werepire", but Dean doesn't hear him and Cas doesn't know. It ended up getting a bit long, so there's more under the cut or over on AO3. Thanks!

Dean's at Pride, and feeling a rising level of discomfort.

It's not the fact that he's wearing eyeliner in public for the first time in his forty-two years. Hell, he'd been wanting to do that ever since he was a kid, dreaming of being a rock star. The covers of music magazines in gas station racks had been windows on a world free from the brutally narrow definition of what his Dad meant when he told him to "be a man". Gradually, though, he'd learned what is gloriously apparent today under the hot June sun: that there are as many ways of being a man as there are men.

It's not because the sleeveless white t-shirt he's wearing is somewhat snug. (The heat had made him shed his pink, purple and blue plaid shirt - the one he'd worn today because Claire always called it his 'bi flannel' - and tie it around his waist.) He and Cas are both wearing a little of their contentment on their waistlines these days, and he believes Cas when he says that he adores his body because he means it when he says the same to Cas.

It's not the big, heart-shaped sticker slapped on his chest, which is striped in the colours of the bisexual pride flag in a way that's much less subtle than the flannel. Dean's always known that he wasn't only into chicks, but putting a name to it is new. Dean's had jobs and Dean's had roles, but having an identity had always seemed like a luxury well beyond Dean's means. Now he's not constantly running for his life, though, he has the breathing room to figure himself out. And he's good with this part of himself. More than good.

It's not the two flags that are padding the pockets of his jeans. One, he'd bought for Cas: it's striped in pale pink, pale blue and white. Earlier, he'd gone with Cas when he'd met up with some friends he'd met online (having managed to get past all the cats this time). The ex-angel had found that discussing their experiences of being trans had helped him feel happy in the body that had become his own. Dean could only feel immense gratitude for the way Cas' face had lit up afterwards when he'd talked about how he was creating himself, becoming himself, and embracing the human condition of change.

Dean hopes that the gift of the trans pride flag will show Cas that Dean understands and loves him, and the same is true for the other flag, which he'd picked up for Jack. It's yellow, white, purple and black. Dean had had to do a little research when Jack had used the term non-binary - it's amazing how the world can move on while you're living in an underground bunker. He'd kept on researching, too, after he'd learned the basics. Maybe he was still figuring himself out. Maybe there was more to discover about himself, and wasn't that fantastic?

Jack is wandering around somewhere with Claire and Kaia. Jody and Donna are here, too, with Alex and Patience. Adam and Michael have probably partied their way through fifty international pride parades by now, but they should be meeting up with everyone else later. Sam and Eileen are not far away. Eileen was the one who's slapped the bi pride sticker on Dean's chest - with unnecessary force, if you asked Dean. She'd grinned at him, showed off the identical sticker on her own chest, and said, with a suitably cheesy wink, "we need to stick together". He remembered the moment he'd nervously asked her the sign for 'bisexual', and when she'd shown him - the letter signs for 'b' and 'i' - she'd added, "me too," and Dean had scooped her up into a crushing hug.His love for his family is endless, and them all being here is definitely not why he's uncomfortable.

And it's not the body glitter freckling his cheeks and his shoulders with gold, although his feelings might change by the time he tries to remove it tonight. He'd been gilded with it when he'd been dancing up a storm with a group of drag queens. They'd admired his eyeliner - a deep brown shot through with gold along his upper lashes - but winked and said it was "a little subtle for Pride". As soon as Dean had seen the tube of glitter, he'd yelled "hell yes!" and even managed to hold still long enough to be coated in the stuff before moving his body to the beat again. Although he's sure his feet will be aching later, so far his favourite cowboy boots are not the source of his discomfort.

It's not the bright pink feather boa, either, which he'd acquired from the same source as the glitter, when he'd been sent off with a kiss to the cheek and the words "be bold, honey!" He'd expected the boa to tickle or irritate, but for some bizarre reason the sensation of feathers around his shoulders and the back of his neck feels incredibly comforting and reassuring. He feels warm and safe and oh. Oh.

As that particular realisation sweeps over him, Dean tightens his hold on Cas. He's standing behind him with his right hand on Cas' hip, and his left arm is up over his shoulder and wrapped around his chest. His hand is splayed out, at once putting his silver wedding band on display and somehow attempting to conceal Cas from the eyes of his many admirers (and, well, good luck with that. Cas is incredibly beefy these days).

Which brings us to the source of Dean's discomfort; to the thing that's deepening the furrow in his brow and the dimples beside his pursed lips: namely, the sheer number of guys hitting on Cas.

It's not like Dean can blame them. Cas' muscular frame is wrapped in black jeans and a tight black t-shirt bearing the Led Zeppelin 1975 tour logo. The short sleeves show off the floral tattoos trailing down his left arm. Cas is wearing a rainbow-coloured enamel belt buckle and, because he's determined to be the death of Dean, black cowboy boots. Before they'd left, Dean hadn't been able to resist grabbing a black kohl pencil and smudging a little along Cas' upper and lower lashes. And, okay, maybe Cas' wide-eyed bewilderment every time he's flirted with is vaguely amusing. But when Dean is right here? Not cool.

Right on cue, here's another one. From over his husband's shoulder, Dean levels his very best glare at the guy. It's a look that can stop a demon dead in its tracks. A vampire would tremble. A werewolf would wet itself. But one young gay guy with a few drinks in him? Totally unaffected. Like the others, he's all smiles and understanding when Cas politely, if awkwardly, waves him away. (Literally. With a final dorky little wave goodbye.)

Dean realises that he's moved his right arm around Cas' waist, so now Dean is wrapped around Cas like some kind of koala/octopus hybrid. An octoala? A koctopus? Definitely koctopus. Heh.

Dean snorts at the thought, which is somewhat unfortunate, given that his face is right next to Cas' ear. Cas flinches and turns his head around to fix him in a squinty glare.

"Koctopus?" Dean says, apologetically.

Cas narrows his eyes further and tilts his head to the side.

"Um, the way I was wrapped around you. I was like a cross between a koala and an octopus."

Dean nudges Cas. "So what does that make me? C'mon, you know you wanna say it."

Cas just tilts his head a bit further to the side, either in confusion or outright despair. Dean has untangled himself from Cas and stepped back, and looks down at the ground, suddenly self-conscious.

Dean feels Cas' hand on his shoulder, and then it smooths over his back, finding the back of his neck underneath the boa. Whatever his shape, Cas' touch has the exact same effect on Dean. He looks up into the impossibly blue eyes of his husband.

"You're a very glittery," Cas begins, softly, "and very beautiful," one corner of his mouth lifts, and then he purses his lips together, trying to hold back the smile, "koctopus."

The corners of his eyes are crinkled. He's not amused by the joke, Dean knows, just absurdly pleased to be saying something he knows will make Dean happy. Of course Dean knows that Cas loves him, knows the whole cosmic-realm-crossing magnitude of it, but in little moments like this, he's floored by it. Dean can't help his sudden exhale or the massive grin that breaks across his face. He wraps his husband up in hug that they hold for a good long moment, before Dean leans back to kiss Cas.

No one had ever explained to Dean how difficult it is to kiss someone when you can't stop smiling. He'd never had that problem before Cas, but now it's practically a daily occurrence. It's a menace because kissing Cas is one of Dean's favourite pastimes. Now, they trade little pecks between wide, toothy grins, until passion takes over and the kisses become heavier.

It takes someone wolf-whistling for them to part, and then they're back to grinning and staring into each others' eyes, until Dean spots something on Cas' face. And something else. And something else. In fact, there's something all over Cas, and that something is gold glitter. It's on his face, his hands, his Zeppelin shirt, and even in his hair. Dean runs his fingers through the unruly curls - Cas has been wearing his hair longer lately - in an attempt to shake it out, but only deposits more glitter into Cas' locks.

"Oops," Dean says, "I kinda glitter bombed you there. It's all over your shirt, too. Sorry, Sunshine."

He doesn't sound terribly sorry.

"This is your shirt, Dean."

"Aw, man."

He does sound a little sorry now, but his future laundry woes are forgotten when Cas presses another kiss to his pouting lips. They're forgotten again when something across the crowd catches Dean's eye.

"Oooh," Dean exclaims as he drags Cas towards the stall he's spotted.

It's selling cowboy hats in every configuration of colour imaginable, and Dean is practically jumping on the spot excitement. Cas looks his husband up and down, slowly.

"You think your outfit's lacking accessories?" he deadpans.

"Yup," is Dean's gleeful reply, "and so's yours."

Cas' groan is lost to the noise of the crowd and the beat of the music, so no-one will ever know if it was one of protest or defeat. He does, in fact, end up wearing a black cowboy hat with a rainbow band, so if it was protest then it was highly ineffective. Dean's has a pink crown, purple band and blue brim, and he's carrying another black one with a band in the non-binary flag colours for Jack. Cas admits that Jack's going to love it.

"Damn, this is awesome," Dean says as they head back to meet up with the rest of their family.

Walking hand in hand with Cas, Dean's thoughts wander. Dean could kick his younger self for every time he'd called someone gay or a girl as a way of saying they were weak. Because all he can see in the people around him is strength. He grins again, giddy with the atmosphere of defiant joy. All around him is everything he'd spent his life fighting to protect: freedom, family, and love. Holding his husband's hand a little tighter, he's grateful that in the end he gets to have both: freedom and peace.

[anjiefiction]

Hello! Thank you for sharing your experience. I am very glad your appointment went ok and I hope your eyes are still doing good. I'm so sorry it's taken me this long to reply you... Truth is, I didn't really know how to parse my words well. I'll try to share my experience as clearly as I can. This got long so please bear with me.

I've dry MMD - there is an atrophied spot in my right eye. My left eye is holding up for now but the retinas in both eyes are dangerously thin.

My eyes are pretty sensitive to light and flashing light. I cannot watch shows/concerts with those as they make my eyes hurt.

I have lots of long, dark floaters in both eyes.

I can see reasonably well in the dark (with glasses) but struggle to see "dark/noir" screens - that is, those kind of shows or games that have a dark tone to them.

Currently, my eyes have been stable since my diagnosis in 2018, but I have been told this this atrophied spot may grow. Or, it may stay the same. Or it may break and bleed and develop into wet MMD. I really, really hope it doesn't and I'm so sorry you're going through that now. Reading stories about how some have lost their eyesight to MMD really hasn't been good for my mental health, and I've tried to stop doing so, though I do get terribly stressed and anxious before my eye exams or when I have days where my eyes are so tired that I can't see that 6/12 line. Because it's such an unpredictable disease, there's really not much to do, unfortunately...but I just have some bits of advice on trying to survive this situation:

1. Take regular eye breaks and eye vitamins. Lutein supplements may not prevent or stop MMD entirely but they do protect the retinas to some extent, so at least it can hopefully slow its progression.

2. Eat healthy and keep fit. High blood pressure/sugar/cholesterol can affect those blood vessels in the eyes, so it's even more important for us to eat healthy!

3. If you're like me and have an eye chart at home to monitor how your eyes are doing each day, don't stress too much if your eyesight changes day by day. There will be good days where you can see the 20/20 line, and days where you can't see even five lines above that. Sometimes the eyes are just like this.

4. Monitor your eyes daily with an Amsler grid. If you do see any changes, immediately mark out what you 'see' in the square and book an appointment with your opthamologist or retinal specialist.

5. Start familiarizing yourself with Screenreader and voice commands. It's easier to learn when you still have usable vision.

6. This may sound a little more paranoid on my part but - start making preparations for the possibility of blindness. What apps can you use to help with daily tasks? Is your home accessible enough? How can you complete daily chores without sight? What are some (new) hobbies you can take up that don't require sight? I admit I'm still finding my way around this too, but it has helped, marginally, in giving me some degree of control over a situation where I otherwise have none.

Here are a couple of blind people I follow whom have been extremely inspiring:

1. In Sight: Full Life - The author of this blog suffers from MMD too; she talks about it here.

2. Can See Can't See - While Claire lost her sight due to other causes, she is a very inspirational figure, and I love her videos.

3. This blog hasn't been updated in a long while but I'm sharing it here too, because it has a collection of posts and comments from those who too have MMD: My Eyes Diary

Finally, most importantly: Live in the moment and appreciate the small things. Stop reading things online on how bad things can be, because that will only make you feel god awful. I've been there, a lot, and...it really isn't a good place to be. It's definitely hard to be optimistic given that sight is literally something that affects everything, and it can sound so so cliche and tone deaf to speak of "being positive", but worrying won't make our eyes better. So... Just try I suppose. Treasure the time now where you can see and make the most of it.

Since this is so long already, please dm me or send anon asks if you wish to talk more about it or if you want me to share any other resources I have been using! I hope you do see this, and I hope you'll be able to enjoy all your life with reasonably good sight.

Hi everyone, I’m back! Or at least, I will be soon. I apologise for the inactivity the past month or so - I hadn’t been able to summon the energy to think about writing due to health. Some background about it:

A few years ago, I was diagnosed with myopic macular degeneration. In essence, my degree of myopia is so extreme that it has thinned out my retinas to a dangerous extent. There’s a constant risk that one day, my retina cells will die. And when that happens, I will be blind.

It’s… very difficult to put into words just how terrifying that prospect is. And a few weeks ago, exactly what I had been fearing to see happened: A black spot appeared in my vision. And then a hooked grey line appeared too.

It scared me so badly, because although I have been living with several floaters for a long time, these were new, and very black. I had been told that these could point to tears or changes in my retina; or in other words: a deterioration of my eye condition. The fear of being blind sooner than I can think of being was just… very exhausting. It stole away any ability to create, until I had some confirmation of what I was seeing.

Well - my appointment is over now, and thankfully those two black spots are nothing more than floaters. My retinas are holding up for now. I’ll need some time to get back into the grove, but my Monday I will be writing again.

And a little note to anyone who can relate: If you yourself are suffering from MDD, or a sight-threatening disease, or if you know someone who is - please, please feel free to DM me! I know how isolating and terrifying it is to consider a life without sight.

[deancasbigbang]

Title: Hanging Out Where I Don't Belong

Author: Tessa Rose

Artist: Mortea

Rating: Explicit

Pairings: Castiel/Dean Winchester Sam Winchester/Gabriel Ellen Harvelle/Bobby Singer

Length: 32000

Warnings: Rape/Non-con Underage

Tags: Angst Hurt/Comfort Non con sex work John Winchester’s A+ parenting Claire Novak is Dean’s biological daughter Panic attacks and suicide ideation

Posting Date: October 19, 2021

Summary: Sam was a very pretty smart man, so he knew his older brother hadn’t just left them because he wanted to rebel. He knew that it was John Winchester’s fault, and so he had done his best to find his brother. Unfortunately, after 17 years, and after searching high and low for him, Sam had finally given up.  Dean was aware of the fact that he made impulsive decisions and it almost always landed him in trouble. Each time, he had vowed to never make an impulsive decision ever again, yet he never could stop.  He knew that he had fucked up when the last thing he recalled was trying his best to survive the cold Chicago winters, and now was waking up on a bed after years, with a tall man standing in front of him, claiming to be his presumed dead brother.  It was now up to him to do his best to get better and also reconcile old relationships on the way. He had to try balancing raising a child and trying to get over the one he lost.  Also, who was the person he was living with, and why was he so damn accommodating and helpful? It was making Dean have a lot of confusing feelings and he didn’t like that.

Excerpt: “Cas, dance with me?” Dean surprised himself by asking Cas that. After having an awful day, and coming home disappointed, all he had wanted to do was go to sleep. But after coming back and seeing Cas and Jack dancing, something in his heart had fluttered. The three of them had danced around for sometime before Jack had yawned sleepily and they decided to stop.  Cas, who had fed Jack while Dean was gone and was waiting for him to get back so that they could have dinner together, had set the table while Dean put Jack to bed. The two of them had dinner together while the songs from the evening still played in the background.  Once dinner was over and the dishes were clean, the two of them sat silently in the living room, the only noise being the music. The silence was more pleasant than awkward. Dean stole glances at Cas, who was staring right back at him. The two of them had a small smile on their faces, and sat comfortably on the couch.  When the Rain Song by Led Zeppelin came on, Dean held his hand out to Cas and asked the man for a dance. To his joy and bewilderment, Cas agreed and the two of them started dancing.  Cas had his arm on Dean’s right shoulder, letting Dean lead the dance. Even though Dean hadn’t danced in almost fifteen years, he could still remember the time spent with Jo and Ellen, who was teaching her stubborn daughter how to dance for her prom. Dean had found it interesting and had joined them.  Even though Jo hadn’t been particularly good, and Dean had come out slightly better than he had expected, that day was still one of his favorite memories of Ellen, Jo, and Will, who had later joined them to try and teach Jo something useful.  He looked into Cas’s eyes and smiled. The man had done so much for Jack and him and Dean was eternally grateful to him. Not only was he helping them out by giving them a place to stay, but he had also helped Dean emotionally. His constant presence by Dean’s side as he went through chances in his life had really helped him. Going to therapy, Nick going down, officially adopting Jack, if it weren’t for Cas being there for him all the time, Dean would probably have given up halfway through.  “You know, when I was young, Led Zeppelin used to be my comfort band. Anytime I felt unhappy or lonely or terribly upset, I would go to the impala, put on a cassette and listen to them. it would always help me calm down. Something about their music reminded me of childhood and of home , when I still had mom. I haven’t listened to them since i was taken away when i was sixteen, and Cas, it still makes me feel like I’m home. Thank you Cas, for being my home.”

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