#damn covid. it IS covid no doubt

[emeraldskulblaka]

Something tells me that LotR at the Watermill isn't happening for me

[spiltcandycoatedpunkblood]

just so you know how normal the UK is, left wing climate change activists and anti-monarchy protesters are getting jail time and beaten for simply holding up banners and being considered disruptive whilst right wing bullshitters against shit like ULEZ (literally about having areas that are specifically for ultra low emissions so we, y'know, don't constantly have to breathe in fucking car fumes and other pollutants because some fucking people actually bizarrely want to???) and road safety limits EVEN FUCKING RIGHT NEAR SCHOOLS are driving basically massive vehicles through the streets and are not considered a disruptive protest

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[mrs-monaghan]

Tbh I'm a jikooker, but I find it incredibly difficult to fit a healthy long-term relationship into the same timeline as all of jimin's solo work. It's not the pronouns or taking one lyric very literally, its the entire thing, plus comments from him and his producers. To me, you'd have to do some serious olympic level mental gymnastics to make that make sense. I don't doubt that jikook have a special bond, I've definitely seen things between them that definitely look like sexual attraction to me and things that surpass friendship boundaries, but I can't in good faith say that they're together in some official long-term way if I actually listen to jimin and his work.

I've seen some jikookers think they broke up for a while, but I have to question if those people have ever been through a breakup because the little bit of distance/separation/awkwardness we did see from them during chapter 2 is nothing compared to the type of tension that would be there if a relationship that intimate and intertwined had separated, especially considering the dark feelings jimin was feeling. He wouldn't have been cutely commenting on jungkook's lives and jungkook wouldn't have been asking to hang-out or getting excited to see jimin in his comments.

Idk, I'm sure someone could twist everything a certain way and only take certain things at face-value and then make everything else abstract, etc. to make the case that they are together, but I don't really see it. You look at face-off, alone, and just his general dark feelings during Face, then look at the creation of Muse and how him and his producers said he couldn't relate to the love-dovey beginning songs, which is how they ended up making Who (despite the fact that jikookers try to distance him from the song since he doesn't have writing credits even though he sat in the recording room telling them what he wanted and saying it felt like reading his diary). I think jimin could have very well gone through a pretty awful breakup along with the inner turmoil he was going through post-covid, but I don't think it was with jungkook if he did. I still enjoy jikook's bond either way at the end of the day, but yeah I don't really get how anyone can take an honest look at jimin's work and his words and think he was in a long-term healthy love-of-his-life relationship during that time or into chapter 2.

Not trying to change your opinion or anything, honestly I don't really see it discussed much in jikooker spaces (besides bad-faith stuff like tkkers stirring up shit over pronouns in lyrics which is just dumb) and when it is, some jikookers are pretty pick-and-choose about what they deem to be true to jimin's feelings and what isn't. Which I get being nuanced, but sometimes it does feel like a "well this fits my beliefs so clearly this is true to jimin and this doesn't so it means nothing because he didn't write it" or whatever. I honestly get annoyed with the bad-faith arguers because it prevents being able to have actual discussions about some of this stuff in our little jikooker corner of tumblr. Like "he said her, he's clearly straight! he danced with a girl, straight!" stfu.

I don't have much to say to you anon. Not really. Not anything that hasn't been said anyway. Which you've seen and decided its jkkrs doing mental gymnastics. "I'm a Jikooker but..." its never a great way to start a sentence. It just gives major insecure jkkr vibes which i just 😬😬😬😬😬😬😬 you either believe in them or you don't. There is no if, and or buts.

I will leave you with this; over the years, antis and (insecure) jkkrs alike have always found a way to conclude Jkk aren't as close anymore or they broke up or some other bullshit. But what happens everytime Jikook resurface and we see them together again?

NOTHING HAS CHANGED!!!

Nothing ever changes with these 2! They come back closer, more in sync, happier, more in love and their relationship more established than ever. This happens every👏🏽damn👏🏽time👏🏽 Everytime!

Then the insecure jkkrs will be like "jkk is real" again.

And then we will go without content for a while and once again we are back here with the jkk aren't as close argument. Once again. It is an exhausting cycle that I refuse to be a part of.

You can try and nit pick various reasons as to why Jikook aren't in an established rlship, but I will chose to focus on reasons why they are definitely 130000000% in a relationship. Like the fact that they are enlisted together rn, the fact that they could have done AYS with other members but chose eo. Or the fact that Jimin wrote his name on JK's chest with sunscreen and I dont even want to imagine how he did that. What position they were in that would justify people calling them brothers 😂

You do you anon. I'mma just be over here enjoying Jimin promote the hell out of his favourite JK song.

Tweet

Look at him so proud of his man 🥺🥺

[sgiandubh]

Last minute Swifties

Contrary to what many thought and some posted, I do think the OL cast's Taylor Swift experience was a last minute promo idea, very much monitored by *** and Tall Ships. I was wrong about minder/security guy (still, eerie...) and I never have a problem publicly admitting it. But quite unlikely I am wrong about this one. And sorry for the length, but you know how I am when I am looking for something, right?

Let's unpack: cast thanked the 'organizers' (and minders, really) in very specific terms, leaving NO much doubt:

Louisa McCulloch. Remember this name, we shall meet her in one hot minute. So thank you Louisa and Maril for organizing this: ask yourselves why did Maril, who (as far as I know) is based in the US, have to come to Edinburgh just for the gig. Damage control, perhaps?

And Sophie S., with a remarkable choice of words:

'Thank you ***, TS and her team for making it happen'. In my book, this means a strong, common effort to secure the box last minute. Because 'making it happen' means exactly that: 'need to do everything you can to facilitate it'.

Clearly Skelton, who is a Swiftie in her own right, was particularly appreciative of the efforts it took to ensure everyone could attend the concert. If that were a long planned event, her enthusiasm would have been more temperate, I think. 'Adding more Swifties to the clan' - LOL, Sophie, you mean S and C had no idea of the lyrics and were unable to sing along with you, John Bell, Izzy and Co (I keep forgetting their names and I like them a lot, in the show)? People of my generation are already too damn old for Taylor S. And this different sort of music might be more of S's real preference: otherwise why post it in his stories, as if to say ' TS is a different thing altogether'?

James. A Manchester rock band, formed in 1982, popular in the Nineties. I see no lies: he was clear 'JAMMF is a Swiftie'. And we are, after all, Children of the Nineties, not TS's crowd. And yes, I knew S was into the same kind of music as I was, in the Nineties (he seems to have stayed put, right there, unlike me, LOL):

Anyways, back to the mysterious woman up and front on three pictures in a row, that got many speculating. Nope, that was not Wendy, the MUA and S's bestie:

Once...

... Twice...

... Three times a lady:

Her name is Louisa McCulloch, née Radcliffe and she is the one S thanked, along with Maril (see above). It was a bit hard finding her, because her IG account is private. But I found her alright on Facebook, and then LinkedIn (of course):

Based in Lockerbie, Scotland. 20 years experience as a media publicist:

Worked with *** and Tall Ships since Season 3, after a short stint as Head of Publicity at the Paramount Pictures London Office. Got promoted from Unit Publicist to Publicist during COVID, for Season 6. So yes, she is the one who made it happen, locally, on what I think was a quite short notice.

Attention successfully diverted. Impeccable timing and giving a younger crowd what it wants. Trying to capitalize on TS's huge Instagram fan base: 283 million followers (wow! I had no fucking idea she was so huge). A win-win situation for just about everyone and an elegant way out from sordid waters:

And it worked. Lost among the hundred of thousands of likes and comments, look who's jumping on the bandwagon:

Sharon Stone. With a Blue Check and her 3.9 million Instagram fanbase. A Nineties deity, need I remind you (this blogger spotted her during the Berlinale 2007, while I was going out for drinks, blissfully unaware we were all staying at The Adlon, LOL)?

They mutually follow each other on Insta, by the way. I wonder why *urv did not pounce on that one. I feel robbed, for once, of a wonderful fanfic.

[Later edit] Several comments take on this person without a proper justification. I am editing this post to remind you she is only responsible for the implementation (in Scotland) of decisions taken elsewhere (in the United States of America). She is NOT a decision maker and as Publicist, was probably responsible for the local implementation of a hasty decision to attend an event (secure VIP box at Murrayfield, sell content to the local press). The direct contact with TS's team was, very likely, Maril and upwards, in the hierarchy. In all fairness, she has nothing to do with a billboard spotted in Los Angeles, USA - nothing of the sort in Europe. I am all for taxing, but let's tax people who are really RESPONSIBLE: she is just a very well paid underling. Thank you all, I am sure you understand fairness can only add to our credibility as a group.

[qqueenofhades]

Hi just wanted to say thank you for taking the time to thoughtfully respond to these anon messages. I work in dc w a fairly wonky set and i cant overstate how haunted the DC Professional Thought Havers are by the spectre of the "low propensity voter." I think these ppl (myself included LOL) thought we had everything figured out ahead of the 2016 elections and then never recovered from the way it ended up going......i feel like in all the years that followed.....the liberal bubbles.....the coastal elites.......the hillbilly elegies......the real america....the ohio diners....the pennsylvania diners.......the polls......the 2020 horserace....while part of an earnest attempt to understand What Happened, were primarily self-indulgent, self-flagellation for being "out of touch" bc of a self-diagnosed "elite" status that then turned into ANOTHER myopic view of the world, just opposite, where the "libs" are hapless and everyone else remotely to the left are primarily victims to the unstoppable supernatural forces of the Right. Then in 2020 the narrative flipped AGAIN and once again, instead of taking the opportunity to expand a worldview and having the bravery to confront their own shortcomings, the opinion havers and wonks and beltway pressers have decided to groupthink their way into writing off democracy altogether. Its BEYOND frustrating to see! Like damn volunteer at a soup kitchen or smthn instead of being obsessed w the fact that i vote lol

Yes, and there are several reasons for that. First, despite all the factors that contributed to Trump's shock win in 2016 (anti-Clintonism, white backlash to Obama, general low voter enthusiasm, Russian disinformation, etc) we should never forget that until James Comey decided to announce 10 days before the election that he was reopening the EEEEEEEMAILS case, even though we all knew there was nothing there, she was leading fairly comfortably in the polls. And while we will never know how the 2016 election would have gone without that, which imho was one of the most unforgivable acts of blatant sabotage by a public official in American history, it's also true that we saw her poll averages start sliding almost in real time, as people who hadn't really been keen on voting for her anyway decided firmly not to and Trump was able to scrape out 16,000 votes across PA, MI, and WI to take the Electoral College. Which... we all remember how we felt that night, right? (Or in my case, early morning, since I was overseas?) We don't, we really, really don't want to feel that way again. Just saying.

As such, the media (which had already beat up Clinton nonstop during the BUT HER EEEEEMAILS saga) drastically overcorrected and as you say, began writing endless angsty handwringing pieces about Trump Voters in Rural Ohio Diners and giving endless sympathetic airtime to how "economically left behind" they felt, regardless of the fact that open racism, especially Obama backlash, was and remains the principal animating feature of Republican politics (since their only economic platform is that which makes very rich people even richer and Democratic economic policies are the only ones actually targeted at helping ordinary people). The hangover was so strong that even when Democrats had a massive 2018 midterm result and flipped the House blue for the first time since the post-ACA backlash lost it in 2010, the Conventional Wisdom was now beyond any doubt that Democrats were doomed for a generation or something, and not that Trump had squeaked out a fluky win (while losing the popular vote) due to endless Russian/Comey/third party-etc interference and wasn't actually that powerful. Even in 2020 when Biden was leading fairly steadily and things were going to hell with Covid, etc. etc. TRUMP IS UNSTOPPABLE, TRUMP IS GOING TO WIN.

(And now. Like. I know Trump thinks Trump won in 2020, as do a large majority of his cultists, but that doesn't mean he did.)

Even after that, when Roe went down in 2022, that made no difference to the RED WAVE COMING!!! narrative, and the amount of smug white male pundits insisting that abortion just wasn't very important and people weren't going to base their entire vote on it reached truly disgusting levels. We're now seeing the same thing with the constant "people won't vote for democracy and/or abortion rights" blast, when as you say, this narrative has just been completely made the fuck up by a lot of groupthinking DC media who are determined that this time, Trump really is going to win and then they get to be principled chroniclers in opposition or something. Not to mention, the basic principle of "democracy and abortion rights are good" do in fact win by thumping margins every time they're on the ballot, including in deep red states. But there is literally not a single piece of empirical evidence despite the massive amounts of it supporting the truth (i.e. that Democrats are doing historically well in competitive elections since 2018 and there's not really a major reason to think this will change in 2024) that will get the media to change the "Democrats in disarray and Biden Iz Doomed" horserace BS they so love. They don't like Biden because he's boring and competent and just does the job without being insane, because it's totally a great idea to treat American government like a reality show! (Recall the infamous comment by the CBS CEO who literally said that Trump was bad for America but great for CBS, because he pulled in high ratings and therefore lots of money and visibility for CBS. We live in the worst timeline.)

As such, the mainstream media has a vendetta against Biden, is determined that this time Trump is super definitely going to win and everyone will see how genius they are, and not-so-secretly wants Trump back because a) he's good for money and ratings, and b) because the media conglomerations are owned by oligarchs who have a vested interest in making sure that Democrats and their policies never get too popular. Notice how the once self-proclaimed centrist independent Elon Musk has turned into a rabidly alt-right fanboy ever since the Democrats really got serious about taxing billionaires as a key part of their platform. Likewise, insisting that Biden Iz Doomed makes Democrats nervous (and thus more likely to tune in) and Republicans gleeful (and thus more likely to tune in), so there's literally no incentive for the media to even try to report things accurately. You could create a very different narrative of the 2024 election if you just remotely bothered to write about things that have actually happened as they have actually taken place, rather than bending over backward to insist that Biden being four years older than Trump is a worse crime than 91 felony indictments, 2 impeachments, 1 insurrection, 450 million dollars and counting in punitive jury verdicts, more major criminal trials coming down the pipe, and just demonstrably being the worst human being alive in so many ways. I mean. Wow.

The good news, as I said in my other post, is that when people actually vote, these utter bullshit narratives get routinely blown out of the water, and that's a good thing. Because it turns out that unlike Super Smart Beltway Pundits' Super Smart Predictions, the average American does actually like democracy and freedom for women to make their own personal healthcare decisions, and they vote accordingly. So while yes, it's being made harrowingly much harder than it needs to be because of how much the media simply refuses to report that basic fact, and there is no amount of evidence that will convince them otherwise, at least we're trending in the right direction and, if we all pull our weight, can do it one more time. I realized the other day that I hadn't heard a fucking peep about Ron DeSantis in the last two months, and oh, how glorious it was. I yearn beyond words for the day (God willing, soon) when the same is true of Trump as well.

[hero-israel]

Besides the unrepentant Jew-hatred, one of the worst things to come out of this conflict is that I have no more trust when it comes to news out of Gaza. None. My empathy has been taken advantage of too many times. At least 80% of the stories coming out of that strip of land always prove to be false after 24-48 hours of independent verification. There's always multiple "last hospital standing in Gaza." People always posting about "there's no power in Gaza" yet their cell phones are always working. Inflated death numbers. Lying about a famine. Half of the images out of that damn place are stolen from Syria. Another quarter are proven to be AI. There is no way to ever be sure what news out of Gaza is true or fake, and I'm tired of it.

I just assume any news from the Palestinians' mouths is a lie until it's proven true because they do not deserve the benefit of the doubt anymore.

I believe Palestinians in Gaza are suffering. The problem is that pretty much every activist and press group and NGO that could report on how badly they are suffering has been proven to be useful idiots at best, falling for the 2020 Gaza Rapture and how Israel sent tainted Covid vaccines to cause autism and how the worst thing that ever happened in the Middle East was the Al-Ahli hospital "bombing."

I'm sorry to say this but any time I have ever attempted discussion of this with a Palestinian-AMERICAN it has always proven pointless. I have never encountered one that knew the most basic history outside AJ's two-minute-hate soundbites. None had ever heard of the Peel Commission or al-Husseini. All of them, to the last, believed the two stripes on the Israeli flag symbolize ruling from the Nile to the Euphrates. One told me that Zionism had oppressed the good peaceful original Jews like Golda Meir who had identified as a Palestinian - because that person had never read her famous interview where she declared "Palestinian" meant Jew and that there was no such thing as a distinctly Palestinian Arab at all. Meir was taking the hardest-core anti-Palestinian stance imaginable and this AMERICAN COLLEGE GRADUATE saw it as solidarity! They know NOTHING - about their enemy! How the fuck does that work? How can someone have an adversary in a long conflict and make zero effort to learn who they are, what they care about, why they are there? And as I've pointed out before, this unlettered bluffing goes to the highest levels of Palestinian society. It is a roadmap to failure.

[sirfrogsworth]

Very personal question so I understand if you don't want to answer. Did your diagnosis feel like a relief, socially? Mine isn't the same, but on one hand I feel relieved to have an "excuse" for being so friggin tired all the time. Society can't "morally" call me weak or lazy anymore. I can actually get some of the rest I need, without people judging me as harshly for it. No one's going to smack a chemo patient and tell me to be productive at all times... I find it sad that I have to have a justification for being exhausted. Nothing's really changed besides a label, but I'm suddenly allowed to feel like shit when I wasn't before.

I have a weird relationship with my diagnosis.

CFS doesn't have a blood test. It doesn't have a genre of specialists who are trained with a specific diagnostic protocol. The only CFS specialists are doctors who took it upon themselves to learn more about the condition and then self-label as specialists. Which unfortunately means there is a high rate of CFS quacks.

To get a diagnosis you have to go to every doctor you can think of, in every specialty you can think of, and gather negative diagnoses like Pokemon. And once you have ruled everything out, you have to find a doctor that kinda/sorta knows what CFS is, and they will officially declare you have tried everything and *probably* have CFS.

And even though most people with CFS are 99.9999% sure they have CFS, there is still that anxiety in the back of our minds that can't help but doubt.

Then there is the social stigma (which is improving) where new people you encounter, doctors, and sometimes even close friends and family, will very much doubt you have the illness. They might think you are being dramatic. Or you are exaggerating. Or they will think you have depression for years and shock your brain. They will think "Well, I get tired too." Or they won't believe there is nothing you can do about it. They still have that mindset "If I had that, I could get better." Or they will think, "If I had that, I could push through it with my epic constitution and boomer work ethic."

So, honestly, I am still kind of waiting for my diagnosis in a way. Every year or so an article will drop saying "The CFS blood test is almost here!" and then no further details. That damned blood test has been coming every year for like 15 years now. It's like cold fusion.

But I will say, when something else is wrong with me and there is a definitive test or a firm diagnosis from a proper specialist—that definitely feels like a relief. I am so tired of my body manifesting medical mysteries that even when something is terribly wrong with me, if I know exactly what it is, I am almost chuffed about it.

Doctor: The blood tests came back and you have life threatening sepsis. We will need to perform surgery to remove a giant piece of your back skin.

Me: Neat!

True story. (Warning: Very gross)

When I took my sleep study nap test and they were like, "Yep, you got narcolepsy as well." I was so happy that I had a "real" illness that I could use to convince doubters I was sick. Unfortunately everyone thinks narcolepsy is just falling asleep at weird times and they don't understand it much beyond that. So that wasn't as helpful as I initially hoped.

Now that Long COVID is causing serious cases of CFS, I have noticed a few people taking it a bit more seriously. But I have two uncles who think I am weak and lazy and was just mooching off my parents for 20 years. And apparently I have been disowned from that side of the family because of it.

But if that blood test ever actually happens I will come back to this post and let you know.

I'm sorry you required a diagnosis for people to take you seriously. But I hope your treatment is successful and you can just be healthy and not have to worry about stigmas. I'm rooting for you. Get that rest and take care of yourself.

[livfastdieyoung69]

I’M NOTHING, I’M NOWHERE

(mcintyre!gn!reader x cm punk)

Your brother was going insane. There’s simply no other way to put it, he was just going crazy. For instance, now. He let Punk get to him so much that he lost a title match, after so much hard work, again. And this time, in Scotland. Your home!

“Drew, I get that this is tough, but maybe…maybe you’re letting him get to you too much.” You spoke, exhausted of both of their antics as he paced back and forth in your dressing room. Why he was in your dressing room anyways, you didn’t really know, but he’d pushed right through the door and wouldn’t stop grumbling. ‘CM Punk’ this, ‘CM Punk’ that, you were a little worried he had a crush on the man.

Not like you didn’t, you’d been in a bit of a relationship with him for who knows how long anymore. Especially Drew- he didn’t know at all.

“I just lost in front of our people, and it’s my fault after he did this to me?” He glared over at you, towering over your sitting from as if none of this could possibly be on him.

“I’m just saying-“ Your not allowed to finish before he cuts you off with a scoff and a shake of the head, turning to leave your locker room, no trace left behind.

You don’t see him or even talk to him, he won’t pick up your calls, until you tune into Raw the next Monday, only to find out he’s up and quit. Your brother, who you worked side by side with for years, quit his dream because of your situationship. What the hell.

And he still wouldn’t answer your calls! You’d gone all week stressing about him, even going as far as texting Phil about it, threatening to punch him in the face if he ever did this to your brother again. (You wouldn’t, but you’d give him the silent treatment long enough that he’d fold and leave Drew alone completely if worse came to worse.)

Friday had already been tough not just from the week of no Drew, and the weeks jet lag of Scotland to your home to Chicago, but also the anxiety of an important match- a money in the bank qualifying match. If you didn’t have as much going on you’d have no doubt you’d win but you also had to face Phil for the first time since Clash at the Castle. It was hard to stay mad at him, especially in person. You knew he’d give you the big dumb puppy dog eyes and a sweet smile, maybe even a kiss to the forehead and you’d do nothing but fold the same way he does to your silent treatment.

Luckily, you hadn’t seen him in the building. The longer he stayed away the longer you stayed winning. You were a little worried he might no show when the time started getting close, to the point where you watched the screens in the gorilla and asked the camera men if anyone had showed up while you waited for your opponents.

Of course, you won. It felt eerie though, without having your brother to call and celebrate by screaming excitedly at each other. This was such a big moment, but all you could think about was Drew. Hell, you started reminiscing Covid when you got to be on the same roster together. It wasn’t like you could celebrate with Phil either, you were supposed to be mad at him, he wasn’t here, and that’d just make you think even more about Drew. Who knew winning a qualifying match for what could possibly be the greatest moment of your life would suck so much? You scurried off to your locker room to change into comfortable clothes and sulk by your lonesome, maybe send Drew a passive aggressive text or two.

After growing bored of sitting in your misery after about half an hour, you huff and puff your way to the door, tugging the heavy thing open. The sight of the hallway stops your heart. Nearly shatters it, really.

There, in front of nearly half the damn roster, your fucking brother is scowling his way through the hallway with a bloody and blundered half to death CM Punk thrown over his shoulders, practically skipping towards the gorilla.

“Drew?” You ask, stumbling from the door as you watch him move further ahead. “Drew!” Your pace picks up, quickly following after your brother but somehow he still held room over you with a man on his shoulders. “What the hell are you doing, Drew! Drew!!” The tactic of getting louder in hopes that he’d stop ignoring you doesn’t seem to be working. Drew disappears from your sight and a crew of staff rushes in front of you, trying to reach your brother before he makes it out of the curtains.

The fans reactions tells you they didn’t make it. The yelling for a medic tells you Drew is really, fully going batshit.

Pushing your way through the crowds of people and the curtain you see your brother first. Relief that he’s okay fills you, he’s still your brother after all, but it leaves when your gaze moves to Phil- unmoving, hair caked in blood, and dumped on the ground.

You look back up to your brother, your older brother you idolized for so long, and back to the man you’ve loved for maybe even longer.

“What the hell the did you do, Drew?” Your voice cracks, raw with emotion, as you walk towards him. “What the fuck is wrong with you? What did you do?!” You push at him but it doesn’t do much. He doesn’t even look at you, just stares down at Punk and the medics cluttering the space around him. You turn from him and tumble down to your knees.

“Phil? What’s-what happened? What did he do?” He doesn’t answer, doesn’t look at you either. Doesn’t seem like he can do much but breathe. “He’s gonna be okay, right? He’ll be fine.” You turn to the closest medic, assuring yourself before they even answer and scoot closer to Punk. “Everything’s gonna be fine, baby. You’re gonna- you’re gonna be okay!” You grab a hold of his hand, standing with the medics as they start pushing the stretcher up and out. Suddenly they’re pushing you away, trying to tell you that you can’t ride with him but you don’t hear them over your own screaming voice telling Phil everything will be fine.

The doors to the ambulance close, the cameras shut off, and Drew is long gone. The world moves on, another segment plays, but you’re still here. Alone, covered in your lovers blood and the accidental betrayal of two siblings.

MWAHAHAHAHHH ANGSTT (the titles from broke back mountain teehee) didn’t wanna do it under a specific request cause i believe this fits two or three but either way i gotta go snooze i got work in like three and a half hours 🥲

[bellaxgiornata]

Who wants a Covid special of my internal dialogues with the boys? I've missed writing them so I needed to give them a little love this morning. I'm also attempting to get that part of my brain working again to prove I haven't entirely lost my writing ability this week because that would be tragic. As always, it's below the cut.

Matt: Put orange juice on the list.

Mikey, raising a brow questioningly at Matt: She has almost two bottles in the fridge already...d'ya really think she needs a third?

Matt: Yes. Put it on the list. And more Tylenol.

Frank, leaning on the kitchen counter: Think she's been cravin' spaghetti so I'm gonna make some.

Matt: Pretty sure her family is dropping off a Thanksgiving meal tonight. She doesn't need you to cook, Frank.

Frank: Fine, then I'll make it for her tomorrow night, altar boy. Point still stands, I'm making her some damn spaghetti soon. With garlic bread, too, because that's the only way her son will eat it.

Mikey: That’s a good idea actually, she hasn't been wantin' to eat lately. Maybe we should make her more things she's been cravin' to get some food in her.

Frank: And maybe we should put somethin' in her diffuser to make her finally go to sleep.

Bella, on the couch: I can hear you three from over here, you know.

Frank, calling across the room: Good, go to sleep. Stop thinkin' about that damn Christmas story you have half written for Red here.

Mikey: He's right, ya need your rest, pet. Ya were awake in bed last night for two hours just thinkin' 'bout that story.

Bella, sheepishly: ...I blame Covid. But I was also thinking about your Christmas fic, too, Mikey.

Mikey: Ya need to rest, love. Worry 'bout the stories later.

Bella, pouting: But I miss you all.

Matt, making his way to the couch and sitting down: We haven't gone anywhere, sweetheart. We're all still here, just waiting for you to get better.

Bella, muttering: Fine, but I still miss you all.

Matt: Is there anything else you want at the store? Mangoes?

Frank: I doubt you're gonna find some good mangoes this far north at this time of the year, Red.

Matt, glaring over his shoulder at Frank: Watch. Me.

Mikey, annoyed: Alrigh', enough bickerin' the both o' ya. Is there anythin' else ya want from the store, pet?

Bella, sitting up: Yes.

Matt, leaning closer: What do you want, sweetheart?

Bella, grabbing Matt by the collar and pulling him closer: For the love of God, please bring me back some vanilla moose track ice cream. I beg of you. I can't stop thinking about it.

Matt: That--that might be a bit cold for your sore throat right now.

Bella: It's incentive for me to get better, Matty.

Frank, calling across the room: It's on the list, darlin'. Don't you worry. Now you cuddle with your cat and get some rest, we'll take care of the groceries.

Matt: I'll send Mittens over to cuddle, too. He misses you.

Bella, wide-eyed: You're going to let me cuddle with Mittens?

Matt, grinning: Whatever gets you to go to sleep. Go rest already, he's on his way over. Then when we get back you can drink more orange juice.

Mikey, muttering: Always with the damn orange juice.

Matt, annoyed: Because it helps!

[hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog]

Tell me about Dean falling in love with a girl who has long covid - maybe they met when he saved her from a monster and they became friends, she occasionally helps him with research or patches him up if he gets hurt. He doesn’t hear from her for a while, and when he goes to check on her, he finds out she’s in the hospital with Covid - a monster he can’t save her from. He realizes he loves her, but may lose her. After she gets out he keeps coming to check on her because he knows she tires easily/has trouble breathing at times.

@deans-spinster-witch thank you for this ask. Actually thank you all that submit asks or sent me story prompts, I am going to get to them all, but I thought this one would be a good place to start.

First let me start off with my disclaimers:

1) I haven't see the last few seasons of SPN, so I don't know how they addressed COVID, if they did at all. So think of it as alternative timeline, not really canon.

2) My COVID representation is probably not 100% accurate, either by the reader symptoms or that I don't mention Dean wearing a mask or that he was able to be in the hospital with the reader.

3) I just POV and I think I may have jump from 2nd to 3rd person writing? I did my best to correct it, but sometimes I can't seem to correct it. Also did my best with editing, but I am sure I missed something. Flashbacks are bold italic and internal thoughts are just italic.

4) I am not sure if this is 100% what you were looking for. It does end on a cliffhanger, so I will be posting a second part. It was getting hella long coming in at 7,500 words. 😬 sorry.

5) swearing, hints of past trauma that we may get more in the second part. Self doubt/hate. Angst heavy!

Okay think that's it. It's a Y/N x Dean focus story with Sam making an appearance via phone. Characters are not mine but the work is. So please don't post as your own.

Feel free to like, reblog, send me feedback in the comments. And if you have a story idea, send it my way via asks or message. Or if you want me to tag you on my work let me know.

Okay think I have stalled long enough. Here it is, my first story back from 3 year break.

JUST BREATHE-



"Excuse me, sir, you can't be up here." A female voice, strong, laced with exhaustion, mixes with the sounds of the hospital. Doctors are being paged, staff are going in and out of rooms, and machines are monitoring patients. All of it, white noise, too, Dean. Because he can't look away or tear his eyes from what is in front of him. Y/N is lying in a hospital bed, hooked up to a ventilator. What happened? How did it come on so strong and so fast? He had just seen you last week when he came through town on his way to his next hunt. Picking up research that you had done for him since Sam was working on another case in California. You were the best…no, are, you are the best researcher he knows…you have to get better; you can't…

"Sir! I will have to ask you to leave if you're not family. The ICU is only for families." The female voce, insistent on getting him to pay attention to her. Tired, she was just so damn tired of no one listing to her today; she had better things to do than police people about.

"How long has she been here?" Dean asks, his voice firm but slightly wavering. He can't look away, watching as the vent goes up and down, breathing for you. Y/N, come on, you have to pull through; I can't lose you, Dean thinks, trying his best not to break. He prayed to God if he thought it would help if he thought the ass would be listing.

"Sir, I can't give that information if you're not family." Dean looks away from you for a moment, noticing the nurse standing beside him. She is dressed in blue scrubs, her hair pulled back, and a mask on. He can tell she is on her last nerve with him, and he has to win her over. He can't leave you, not now. "So, are you family?" she asks again.

"Umm…" He knew he needed to lie. If he told her that you were just a friend, he would never get answers and would never get back to this floor again. It was dumb luck that he could get your room number out of the receptionist downstairs. He pulled himself together to give her his winning smile and wink. "She's my sister." Clearing his throat, he looked back to you.

The nurse looks down at the chart in her hand. "Miss. Moore didn't have a brother listed as next of kin, but then again, a neighbor brought her in." Looking back up to Dean, he doesn't respond. "How about we go somewhere a little more private to discuss your sister's condition?" She lightly grabs Dean by the shoulder and turns him away from the window and you.

********

Dean did his best to listen to the nurse, but all he really wanted to do was get back to you. It was driving him crazy that he couldn't do anything; this wasn't caused by a demon, monster, or anything in his wheelhouse. You were brought in about a day or two after he had seen you. Your neighbor had come over to borrow something and saw you in the window, passed out on the floor. COVID had hit you hard, and you just couldn't shake it; your lungs filled up so fast with fluids that you passed out.

That was a week ago; you had been in the hospital for a week and on a ventilator. The doctors feel that your body just needs time to fight off the infection.

"She seemed fine when I saw her last; how could this happen?" Dean questions, trying to be as respectful as possible without raising his voice and getting kicked out.

"COVID hits everyone differently; we really don't know why. Some people may never get it, and some…" Not finishing her statement, the nurse looks away from Dean.

"Can I go back and sit with her?" Dean asks, more like pleading with her. He just wants to ensure you're doing alright and stand watch until you wake up. He doesn't know what else to do.

"I am sorry, but no," the nurse replies as kindly as possible. Seeing that he will protest this, she quickly adds, "But, you can come back during visiting hours. You won't be able to go in the room; we have to keep it clean because of COVID, but you can see her from the window." Hoping this will be a compromise he can live with. She doesn't want him to get upset and have to call security and have him escorted out. She can tell he cares for her and is scared.

Dean will take it; he knows he has to. You're the strongest person he knows. You will get through this; you have to. "Alright, I guess I will come back then," Dean says, getting up from the table.

********

Walking out of the hospital, Dean calls Sam to tell him what is happening and that he wasn't leaving until you were back home. Screw the world, let the monsters run amuck, and let demons rain hell on earth; he had more important things to do. "I don't care, Sammy, I am not leaving again. This is the only number you can reach me at, and only you," he says, getting into the Impala and firing it up.

"Alright, Dean. I hear you. Do you want me to come? I am almost done here." Sam offers, knowing that Dean won't take him up on it.

"No, I am good, but thanks. You stay on the West Coast until the world calms itself down." Letting the engine run for a bit, Dean takes a second. This has been the longest they have been working apart. It's been hard on both of them, but at least Dean has you to talk to. He has been leaning on you more since Sam was in California. Could Dean have caused this? Was he asking too much of you?

"Dean, hey, you still there?" Sam breaks through his intrusive thoughts.

Clearing his voice, "Yeah."

"You know, she will get through this. She's going to be okay," Sam says, trying his best to reassure him and get him out of his head because even if they are miles apart, he knows his brother. Dean is blaming himself right now for something that he can't control.

“Yeah, I know… I just… what if I…..”

"No, don't think like that, and don't think you had anything to do with this happening." Sam quips back, knowing where his brother's thoughts are going, and he will not have him spiraling out.

"But I ask so much of her. You know she will never say no. Even when she has other things to do, she always drops everything when I ask for a favor. God, I am such a user…"

"No, you're not. Y/N is strong, and she said she would tell you if she didn't want to do something. She wants to help; she thrives on researching this stuff, and you know it." Sam states, "Come on, you know she would rather research lore or listen to one of your 'tales from the front lines,' as she likes to call them, any day of the week."

The thought of you saying these words to him as you patch him up, 'Alright, Dean, what tales to do we have this time?' or how your voice would be giddy when he called you about a case he found. "Yeah, you're right, Sam," Dean replies. Feeling a bit better after talking with Sam, he always knows how to keep him from spiraling too much.

"I know I am; now go get some rest. She's going to need you when she wakes up."

"Night brother"

After hanging up the phone, Dean didn't want to go to a hotel or bar, but he was now wired and needed to do something. Pulling out of the parking lot was second nature, and he found his way to your driveway.

Sitting there, looking at the modest, two-bedroom, two-bath house, he would consider a second home for as much time as he has spent there. It was odd to think about walking through that door and you not being there. When getting out of the car, the sound of the door opening and closing is the only noise that breaks up the silence of the night. Taking a few steps, Dean stops himself from knocking like he usually does. Habit, he thinks. Pulling his keys out, he flips until he finds the one for your house.

It was an argument you had won, not that he didn't want a key. Of course, he did, but he didn't want it to fall into the wrong hands should something happen.

"No, I don't need a key, Y/N," Dean protest, not wanting to have this conversation right now.

"Yes, you do; now take it." You say, holding out the key for him to take.

"I don't need it; you're always here. Why would I need to get into your place when you're not here?" he questions. Finishing off his beer, he gets up from the couch and heads toward the kitchen. "You want another one?" he asks, trying to change the subject.

You get up and follow him. "Don't change the subject, Winchester," you say, following him and sitting on a kitchen stool. What if I wasn't home tonight?"

Tossing the empty bottle in the recycle bin and turning to face her, he can tell by the severe look on your face that this is an argument that he won't win. But why make it easy on you. "But you were," giving you a smirk, he opens the fridge to pull out two more bottles. "Besides, where would you be on a Friday night? You have a hot date I don't know about?" he questions. Handing one of the bottles to you.

He struggles slightly to open the bottle with his left hand since his right is currently in a sling. After putting his shoulder back into place and stitching him up, you open the beer in your hand, hand it to him, and take the other one from him. "Maybe," you say cryptically, a twinkle in your eyes.

"Really? Didn't know you were dating anyone?" Dean is slightly put off by this. It's not that someone would want to date you; it's the opposite. You're beautiful, and he always wonders how you were still single after all this time. Intelligent and funny, any guy would be lucky to call you his. Heck, he would like to call you his.

"I am not," you say, putting him out of his misery and his slight spiral of another guy touching her, kissing her… But I could still be out. Do you want to be sitting out in your car waiting for me to get home?" you question, pushing the key towards him. "Just take the dam key. It's only a key. I am not asking you to move in with me."

If you asked him that, he would say yes in a heartbeat. But the reality of his life, what he and Sam do for a living, gives him pause to take the key. "I just don't want anyone else to get their hands on it."

"Who, like Sam? Of course, you can give a copy to Sam." You joke, knowing what he's getting at but trying your best to keep this conversation light.

"No, not Sam. I am thinking Crowley, another demon or monster, or worse, Lucifer. I would hate for anyone other than Sam or me to get their hands on this and come after you."

"Dean, that's not going to happen."

"But it could, you know it could."

Letting out a sigh, you decide to pull out the big guns to get him to take this damn key. "A key is not their first choice to get in. You have put up all the wards you could think of." You say, proving that you are as safe as possible. "Heck, you made me even get this thing." Snapping off your leather bracelet to show off the anti-possession tattoo. "and you know how much I hate needles." The black tattoo shows nicely against your light skin and hides the other barely visible scars.

"Yeah, I found out real quick that day. I think I still have scars on my arm from you digging your nails in," he jokes, bringing his hand up to his wrist to run his fingers around the tattoo and the scars he knows are there.

"Haha, that's real funny." You fake laugh. " Just take it, please. It will make me feel better if you have it." You do your best puppy dog eyes as you push the key closer to him.

Dean takes a moment before caving. "Alright, but I am only going to use it for emergencies." he conceits, taking his keys out and putting your house key on the ring with the rest.

Getting up from the stool, you smile at him, "Thank you, Dean," you say sweetly and hug him.

**

Dean shakes his head, trying to shake the thoughts from that night, as he shuts the door behind him. He stood in the entryway, just taking in the quietness of the house, holding his breath, waiting for you to come down the hallway, saying, ‘Dean, you look like shit; what were you up against this time? Let me get you patched up, and you can tell me all about it.’ Guiding him to the kitchen, you would pull the first aid kit and a beer from the fridge.

Watching these memories play out in front of him, it's not until he lets out a shaky breath that he had been holding that he feels the tears run down his face, "Fuck! Y/N, you got to get better, okay…." choking back, "I can't lose you." The thought of losing another important person in his life. Someone who should have a happy and long life and who, without them, Dean wouldn't be standing here today. He owes everything to you.

Dean can't bring himself to step past the entryway, feeling like an intruder. "I can't…" feeling pressure in his chest, he turns and walks out the door. Locking the door and making the short walk to his car, the pressure subsides once he is in the driving seat. Knowing he can't stay in the house. Too many memories of you and his dark thoughts will keep him up. He also can't put the car in drive and go to the motel just outside of town. It's like his body won't let him leave.

*******

Y/N POV

You were in the hospital for two weeks, and Dean was by your side, or somewhat outside your hospital room, every day, every hour he could be. At least that is what the nurse told you once you were awake. Your 'brother' Dean has been by your side. The first time they told you this, you looked confused, which caused concern from the staff.

"Your brother, Dean," the nurse says again, her voice laced with concern as she points to the window that looks into your room from the hallway.

You turn your head slightly, your body stiff from being in bed for so long, and the breathing tube just being taken out. There you see him, Dean Winchester, raising his hand to give you a short wave, and a look of relief washes over his face, which is covered with a slightly heavy five-clock shadow. You give him a smile and look back at the nurse. "Yeah, sorry, of course, he's my brother. Just didn't know anyone called him?" you reply, "Can I have some water?" you ask, you're throat feeling like sandpaper.

"Sure," the nurse says, filling a cup and handing it to you. "Well, the doctor will be in soon," she says, giving you a short smile and walking towards the door.

"Umm, can my brother come in?" you ask. Knowing that no matter what she says, Dean will make it in here one way or the other. The nurse hesitates. "It's just that I would like him to hear what the doctor says. I am still groggy, not sure I am going to remember everything he tells me," you add, hoping this will pull on her heartstrings just a bit.

Which does work, "Sure." she replies, giving you a smile and then walking out the door. She briefly talks to Dean before walking away, and Dean enters the room.

"Hey, sweetheart," Dean says, shutting the door behind him and walking towards you.

"Hey yourself," you reply. You try to sit up a bit more, but you struggle a bit.

Dean quickly gets to you. " Here, let me," he says, finding the remote for the bed, setting you upright, and then readjusting your pillows. "Good?" he asks once it looks like you're settled.

Feeling slightly embarrassed that he saw you like this, you’re sure you're a mess, bed hair, hospital gowns, and oh man…your breath has got to stink by now, right? Trying your best not to breathe out, "Yeah, thanks." you quickly reply. Dean sits in the chair next to your bed but doesn't say anything. Okay, guess you will start. "So brother, hum?" you quip.

He smiles at this and looks away from you to the bedding. "Yeah, I had to say something; otherwise, they would never let me back in." Then, looking back at you, a slight panic sets in that you might be mad at him for this small lie. " You're not mad, are you?" he asks.

"No, of course not," you reply, wanting to reassure him that everything is fine. This does, as relief washes over him a second time. You hold out your hand for him to take. "Just wonder what Sam will say about having a little sister, that's all. I am sure he will hate being the middle child," you joke.

Dean gives a short laugh: "Oh, Sammy will be all right with it. He will be happy to hear you're awake, is all." Dean's fingers rubbing your hand back and forth are nice.

"How did you know I was here?" you ask, trying to remember the day before you were brought in, but it's all a blur. Was he coming to see you? Was he working on a case?

"I was coming back through, and you had helped me with the case in North Carolina…" lowering his voice, even though you're in a private room," that Dinji." Dean recounts, seeing you not remember. He continues, "I stopped by your place, and your neighbor was out and said you were in the hospital."

None of that is registering at all, like last month, which is a blank slate. Fuck, what else are you not remembering? "And you have been here this whole time?" you ask, wondering what the state of the world must be like if he has taken himself out of saving the world for two weeks! Is Sam okay?

Dean's eyes, bright green, lock with yours, cocking his head slightly to the side, with slight confusion at your shock that he was here the whole time. "Of course, where else would I be? I wasn't going to leave you alone here," he says, a matter of fact.

You're about to reply to this, ask more questions, ask how Sam is, but before you can, the doctor enters the room. "Miss. Moore, welcome back," he says, looking at your chart and then at you and Dean. And this must be your brother?" he asks, holding his hand for Dean to shake.

Dean does, letting go of yours, the loss of him, his touch is apparent. "Hey, doc, when can I take my sister home?" Dean asks.

The doctor starts to talk, but you're not listening; your mind drifts to Dean. He put his life on pause for you? Wow, that's something, but you're sure he would do it for Charlie, Jody, Claire, or Alex, right? Yeah, of course. Dean sees you as family, which is what you are to him; that's what you will always be. Yes, you were close. He and Sam saved you from the vampire nest, explained everything about their world, and gave you a purpose.

You feel a slight pressure in your chest. Now that you're awake, how long will he stay before he leaves again?

"So I will get the nurse to start the discharge paperwork, and you guys should be out of there in a few hours," the doctor says. Giving you a smile.

Not hearing anything but that, you just smile back and look towards the window. You hear Dean thank the doctor, and he leaves the room. "nice guy," Dean says, filling up the silence.

"Yeah," you reply. You’re not sure what you are feeling; it's almost like a weight on your chest, pressure. Maybe it is COVID; it will be better once you get home. It has to, right?

******

You didn't know Dean could fuss over you more if he tried. He insisted that he be the one to wheel you out of the hospital, only after he made sure the car was pulled up as close to the door as possible so you didn't have to walk too far. Then, when he pulled into your driveway, he insisted he carry you the short walk to the front door.

"No, Dean, I can walk. My legs aren't broken; I had COVID, that's all." you quip back as he comes over to your side of the car to pick you up.

"The doctor said you shouldn’t over-exaggerate yourself, that's all," he replies, trying again to wrap his arms around your waist and pick you up from standing against the closed car door.

You block his hands again. As much as you would like his arms around you, have him cradle you; where is this coming from? You also don't want him to hurt himself, or God forbid the neighbors see him carrying you bridle style. "Yeah, walking the three feet to my front door is not going to kill me." This comment is like a punch in the gut for Dean; it's written on his face. Shit, was my COVID scare that much of an effect on him? But why? Trying to write your wrong, you try to play it off. "Come on, man, I have been on my back for two weeks and must move a little bit." You quip back. Playfully pushing him aside and walking towards the door.

You get to the door but realize you don't have your keys, you didn't have those, or your phone when you were brought into the hospital. You wait for Dean to come up behind you. He doesn't say anything, pulling out his keys; he opens the door and lets you walk in first. You shuck off your jacket and shoes and go to the living room. Sitting on the couch, you try to hide the sigh of exhaustions that you feel from the small activities you just did; but it slips past your lips and is not lost on Dean.

"Want me to make you some tea? You hungry?" Dean asks.

"No, I want you to tell me what's happened since I was in the hospital. Did all the evil in the world decide to take a break while I was out, and that's how you got to have some time off?" you question, motioning him to sit next to you on the couch.

Dean shrugs at this, "No. I just told Sam I was taking myself off the board, is all." he says casually.

"Taking yourself off the board? Hum, I didn't know you guys could do that," you ask, Giving him an intuitive look.

Dean is giving you nothing back, shaking his head, looking around the room, and clapping his hands together. He points towards the kitchen, "I am going to make that tea for you." He walks away before you can stop him, leaving you to your thoughts. Something else is happening, and you know who to call to get the truth out.

******

Making that call seem more complicated than usual since Dean didn't leave your side for anything. Three days, three days of hovering and mothering you, and as much as you care for Dean, and possibly secretly loved him. Let's face it, those chest tightening pains at the hospital, the loss of his touch was not COVID symptoms, it was your heart telling you what you already knew. You were in love with Dean Winchester, and the fact that he dropped everything for you made your head spin and feel like the most important girl in the world. But you are a realist, and Dean Winchester is out of your league. He sees you as the little sister he got settled with, not the girl he wants to kiss and do other things with.

On top of that, you are sure his opinions of you drop a few points since you found out really quick that to pass the time while he waited for you to wake up, he decided to clean your house from top to bottom. The sheer embarrassment when you found out had you want the couch to swallow you up right there. "Excuse me, you did what?" you ask, thinking you didn't hear him right when you ask; the following day, a book you usually had on your coffee table was now on the bookshelf that it was never on.

"I did some cleaning while you were…" Dean says, not finishing that statement while he grabs the few dishes off the coffee table and heads towards the kitchen. He never finishes that statement. Whenever he says it, he never says 'when you were in the hospital' or 'when you were sick.' After three days of the hanging statement, you get frustrated over that.

But knowing he cleaned your house, how clean is clean? Did he do your laundry? Yep! Did he clean under your bed and put stuff away on your nightstand? God forbid he did a deep clean in your closet—oh, the embarrassment. "Why?" you ask, now following him, waiting for an answer that you sure won't come.

Dean has his back to you, rinsing off the dishes before putting them in the dishwasher. "What? It's not a big deal. I had time, plus the nurse thought it was a good idea for you to come home to a clean hose." He says while wiping down the counter.

You try your best to breathe and calm down. Yes, all that is true, a clean house to come home too make sense. But having him go through your personal and private things, fuck, him cleaning your underwear. He will never look at you as desirable again, not like he did before. You look up from the floor to see him watching you, waiting for a reply. "thanks, I guess," you say, defeated. "I am going to go take a shower." You say, needing just a few minutes by yourself, shake off this feeling of rejection you know he doesn't realize he caused.

"You need some help?" he asks, approaching you and walking a step behind you.

You take a second, knowing again that he just wants to help, but God treats you like an old woman. Because you know that his offer of 'helping you out' in the shower does not imply sexy times; it's he saying he thinks you are weak and that you're going to get tired, fall, and hurt yourself. You get to the bathroom door. "No, I got it, thanks," you say, opening the door and shutting it before he can say anything.

*****

Dean POV

I know I am being overprotective, maybe even going overboard with not letting her do anything, and perhaps the deep clean was an overreach. But in my defense, I thought I could lose her, and if she was going to, no, when she was going to come home, I wanted it to be in a clean, COVID-free house.

I turn away from the bathroom door and walk towards the living room. I start to clean up, picking up the discarded blanket from my makeshift bed; even though she has a spare room, it's on the second floor away from her, and I want to be close in case she needs me in the night.

The rigging of my phone pulls me from my thoughts of her. Picking up, I see it's Sam. "Hey, what's up?" I ask, dropping the blanket and myself onto the couch.

"Just checking in, how's Y/N?"

"Good, still low energy, but I am just happy she’s walking and talking, even if I am annoying her."

"You, annoying her, I can't believe it," Sam says, with fake shock. "You know she can take care of herself; she has been doing that for some time now." Sam reminds me. Knowing that my hovering is coming for a place of love for Y/N, but it could be doing more damage than good.

"I know, it's just…" I pause briefly, looking back to see the closed bathroom door. "Sam, she just looked so helpless there lying in the hospital bed, hooked up to those machines…and there was nothing I could do…nothing that could save her…I just had to wait."

Sam knows that's not my strong suit, "I know, I get it, but maybe just ease off a little. I am sure it's making her feel like a burden, you doing everything for her."

"Yeah, you're probably right. I will try."

"I know I am." He clears his throat and paused briefly before asking what he knew I would not want to answer: "So when are you heading back to the bunker?"

I pause momentarily; the idea of leaving you hadn't crossed his mind. "Umm…" Hearing the door open, he looks to see you walking out of the bathroom and down the hallway to your room, wrapped in your navy-blue plaid robe, hair slightly damp from the shower. "Not sure yet, but I will keep you posted. I got to go." I say quickly, hanging up the phone. I know that she can take care of herself, but at the same time, I don't want to leave her again; what if I do and something happens, and there is no one here to save her again. Sam's right, though; I have to back off, or I am liable to smother her.

*****

Y/N POV (about a week later)

Something seems to have changed in Dean in the last few days. It was like the old carefree Dean was back. He hovered less, not watching my every move, and even went on a quick day trip to the bunker to pick up more books for me to read since I had read everything in my place twice, and if I was going to be stuck inside I wanted to do something productive. Granted, I had to ride shotgun on this trip, so although we got out of the house, I was still under his protective eye. But he wasn't babying me anymore; he cracked jokes, smiled, and even complained when I made him watch the same movie repeatedly.

Dean was going on a food run, and this was one outing he didn't let me go on. Too many people, could possibly get sick again, so he didn't want to risk it. But he also hated doing it, leaving you alone. "You're sure you're going to be fine," he asks again, standing in the doorway, you on the other side, trying your best not to push him out and lock the door.

"Yes, Dean, you'll be gone for an hour. I think I can survive." you quip, pushing him playfully, "Go, I promise, no running around the house with scissors or jumping on the bed. I will keep my butt on the couch until you get back."

Dean's worried face slightly softens, knowing that you will be fine, but that pit in his stomach—the thought of him walking out that door again and not having you in his sight—will never go away. "Okay, but call me if you feel off," he reminds you again.

"Yes, now go." You reply with a smile. Yes, he was getting on your nerves slightly, but you still loved the guy for it.

You watch as he pulls out of the driveway and down the road before you head inside. Walking to your room, you find your cell phone charging, and you quickly make the call you've been waiting to make since you got home.

He picked up on the second ring: "Y/N, everything alright? Dean texted me to say he was going on a food run. Do you need him? Are you not feeling well?…" Sam blurts out, a lengthy, run-on statement that has you slightly spinning.

Trying your best not to laugh at him. "Sam, calm down; I am good. I just wanted to talk to my friend. How are you?" you ask, wanting to ease into this discussion. Plus, you really did want to know how he was doing; ever since you came home, you only talked to Sam when Dean would call him and have him on speakerphone. Even then, Sam was instructed not to speak about cases he was working on. Dean had a theory that possibly COVID was stress-induced, but you know it wasn't.

"I am good, making my way back to the bunker. I have a case in Wisconsin, so I'm in your area. I was thinking of seeing you guys once it's done."

"Oh yes, please do, Sam. It's been ages since we've hung out together. I feel like a movie marathon is needed."

"Yeah, if you're up for it. Dean tells me you get tired easily. Is anything else not the same?"

"Umm…brain fog for sure; I lost all memory of the week before I went into the hospital. Some things don't taste the same. But honestly, Sam, can we not talk about me for a bit. Tell me about the case in Wisconsin; what are you hunting this time." You inquire, done talking about yourself, need a distraction, and avoid asking Sam what you want to know.

Sam, being the best friend, a girl could ask for, knew that a distraction from your symptoms was what you needed, and although it would be breaking his promise to Dean, he could hear it in your voice, the need for some kind of normalcy, at least what normal is considered for us. Giving you all the details, you can come to the same conclusion that it was a vengeful spirit and a simple salt and burn job is in order.

Once Sam is done talking about Wisconsin, a lull in the conversation forms, and you look at the clock to see Dean should be home soon. "Sam, can I ask you something?" You feel slightly nervous and try to figure out how to phrase your question.

"Of course, you can ask me anything."

Taking a breath, you wait a second before asking, "How was Dean when he found out I was sick? He said he 'took himself off the board' and has been hovering since I got home. He's gotten better, but those first few days, it was like he was a different person."

Sam can tell by the last statement that you're trying to bring some levity to an otherwise heavy question, a question that he is surprised you have to ask. taking a breath, he thinks about how to say, ‘You idiot, he loves you! and you love him!'

"I am glad to hear that he's lost up the reins a bit," giving a chuckle, "but honestly, Y/N, he was devastated. I know he's my big brother, and he tries his best to hide his emotions, but I could tell that night when he called to tell me what happened, he was scared. Scared that he was going to lose you, scared that he might have caused this to happen to you."

"How could he have caused COVID? I mean, I get he sometimes can have a big ego, but, come on, he can't cause an infection."

"No, but he thinks he has been asking too much of you, wearing you down. I can't say whether he's right or wrong. You and I know you occasionally burn the candle at both ends."

"Yeah, I am trying to get better at that. But Sam, he was treating me like I was 90 years old. He wouldn't let me do a thing around here. And did he tell you he cleaned my house—my whole house—before I got home? I mean everything."

"Oh man, I am sure you were not happy to hear about that."

"Your damn right. I wasn't."

"Look, it's not my place to say, but I will tell you this, remember that night when you and I got a little tipsy, and you might have let slip your feelings for a certain green eye hunter?"

Fuck, of course, he remembers that night; that was right after you had helped him and Dean take down a wraith, and Dean was out on a beer run. "Yeah, you asked me why I never seem to be dating anyone, and I said I can't be with the one guy I want, so why be with the wrong guy at all."

Sam waits for you to connect the dots, and although you're not sitting in front of him, Sam has a feeling you're making the connections: "Let's just say Dean has the same idea, and he has his eye on a hazel eye researcher that he thinks he can't have."

You're about to protest Sam's statement that Dean has no feelings for you other than sibling love, but before you can, you hear the front door open and Dean yelling, "Honey, I am home," sweetly.

"I've Got to go, Sam. Talk soon," you say, and hang up before he can reply.

*********

Sam's words kept rolling around in your mind all night, distracting you from Dean. During dinner, you were quiet, letting him lead the conversation and not making it known when he mentioned Sam might be stopping by in a day or two that you two had talked earlier. "Oh, okay, sounds good." you responded, still thinking, 'He has his eye on a hazel-eye researcher that he thinks he can't have.'

Dean went for girls that were the complete opposite of you, blonde, curves in all the right places without an ounce of fat to be seen, the girl that guys walk across fire for, not the girl that they run into fire to get away from. Not the girl who is socially awkward around strangers, who can put her foot in her mouth easier than anyone, and who has more of a backstory than is worth mentioning. No, Dean goes for simple, noncomplex girls, which makes sense, given his life is entirely of danger and complexity. Why go for a girl to add to it.

Dean can tell your mind is elsewhere, and he is slightly worried that you're lost in your head or that this might be another symptom. "Hey, space cadet, you with me? Because if you're not watching the movie, I will gladly turn it to something we haven't seen twice this week," he jokes, hoping to make fun of the situation.

His voice shakes you from your thoughts, and you look over at him; his eyes have just a hint of worry to them. The blanket across both of you, him in a simple white t-shirt and sleep bottoms, you in gray leggings, tank top, and open cardigan. Perfection, you and Dean cozy up on the couch, not a care in the world, him teasing you about your love of disaster movies, and you forcing him to watch the same one repeatedly, and he does; why? Because he loves you. He loves you like a sister, a friend, someone he cares for, just not someone he’s IN love with.

"yeah, sorry, I think I am just going to go to bed." You shake off that last statement: he's not IN love with you. God, you really know how to cut yourself deep, don't you? Getting up from the couch, you grab your water glass and head towards your room.

Dean gets up with you, "here, let me help you," he says, walking around the couch and placing a hand on your lower back.

This is the last straw, the final statement of his wanting to help you, again treating you like you're helpless. "Stop! Just stop!" you yell, feeling yourself boil with rage you knew you had been keeping at bay. You know his hovering is with the best intentions, but for you, it's blurring the lines between what you want from him and what you know he can give you. Your mind won't let it be accurate even after what Sam told you today.

Dean stops his hands from touching you, standing still like he is frozen in time. "Y/N, hey, I just want to help. You look tired, is all." His voice is soft and sweet.

He’s trying to placate you, like he would a child or grandparent, "Dean, I am fine; I can walk ten feet to my room on my own and not get lost or fall down, okay!" You lock eyes with him and see his face fall, and in that moment, you know that he's hurt; you've only ever yelled at him when you were injured and need him to find you. But that was screaming for him, not at him. You know that you should feel bad for your outburst, you do, but you know that this is not real, that this ideal version of him and you playing house can't last.

"What is wrong? Is this another symptom? Did something happen while I was out?" he asks, wanting to understand your sudden change since this morning. You start walking away from him, wanting to get into your room and away from him, knowing he will get the truth out of you. You don't want to hear his excuses or him placate you even more about why he and you will never be a thing.

You turn halfway down the hall to look back at him, standing there watching you. "No! It's not! I am a capable woman who can take care of herself. Stop treating me like I am dying, Dean! You saved me once; that should be enough for you." Turning back, you reach your door, hand on the handle to open it, when you hear Dean.

"What does that mean?" Dean questions, his footsteps pad against the hardwood floors, standing right behind you; you can feel his breath on your neck, "I know you are capable; you are the strongest woman I know." his voice low, sending shivers down your body, you feel his hand on your arm, turning you around to face him. He sees your tear-stain cheek, "Fuck, Y/N, talk to me; what is going on? Why would you say saving you once was enough?"

Your eyes, trying and failing to hold back the tears, are now on the brink of spilling out. He needs to just let you go. You lean back against the door, knowing he took that little movement as exhaustion, and you are. You are exhausted by talking about this repeatedly, tired that he just can't let you leave, won't give up, and will go back to seeing you only when he needs something. He needs to go back to his life and let you put him back into the box of things that you don't let yourself have. Taking a breath, you run your hands over your face, wiping the tears and pushing them back inside. Putting on your brave face, "You know, Sam will be here in two days. I think you should go back with him. Go back to the bunker, and 'put yourself back on the board.'"

Throwing his line back at him, telling him he needed to return to work and that you would be fine without him. Will you, though? In time, maybe? You turned the door handle and stepped into the room, never breaking your eye contact with him. He shut the door in his face and flipped the lock, not giving him a chance to speak, knowing that he would not force his way in.

To be continued

[sotwk]

This is the only "political" (but not really) statement I will make, and it is only to gently reassure the many folks whose anxieties are being badly triggered by the US elections.

Remember 2020, (and try not to let it stoke your PTSD) when so many of us thought the world would be irreparably damaged or perhaps even coming to an end? Besides Covid, there were SO. MANY. DISASTERS. in that single year. Even I, in all my positivity and faith, questioned whether we could recover from it.

But the World, and that includes YOU, made it through A MAJOR GLOBAL PANDEMIC. Do you think that was nothing? Don't doubt the World's resilience, and certainly don't underrate your own. You'll never fully grasp how strong you are (who among us truly has a clear view of ourselves?), but I promise if you stop to reflect on it, you'd be pretty damn impressed with yourself.

It'll be okay. I know we've all kind of blocked out the awful memories of 2020, but remember how strong it made you. We've waded through some serious, literally deadly shit before. Whatever the outcome of this week, we can persevere again.

I know, I know, we don't want to have to. I wish we didn't have to deal with Bad Stuff. I'm tired too. But Life, you know? We're here to make the most of it, and focus on the joys and wins.

[saltwaterandstars]

God damn it. Mr Hag has covid.

He's had it once before, 18 months ago - caught it at work (he works in a school). He had it for a week, it was like a mild cold, then it was over. I caught it off him and had it for a month and in the end had to come off my immunosuppressants for a couple of weeks because my poor immune system just couldn't get rid of it. So it's very likely I'll get it this time round. I actually had my covid booster jab on Friday, so that might do me a bit of good, but I doubt my immune system will have had enough time to produce a substantial response to the vaccine.

I want to be feeling sympathetic - he feels under the weather and also feels guilty for exposing me to covid again - and none of it is his fault. But mostly I'm just in a place of for fuck's sake, here we go again.

[decepti-thots]

Wait explain to me the transformers nezha thing you mean one of the most famous deities in Chinese culture???

Ahhh, Nezha is an interesting one!

Nezha: Transformers was intended to be a collaboration with the intent of making a sub-franchise that was specifically for the Chinese market. It was going to be a Cyberverse-style spinoff of some kind using those assets and possibly being in the same continuity. (Maybe? That part has never been totally clear to me, but the format and animation were gonna be the same regardless.)

The Nezha part is because it was a crossover series. "The Legend of Nezha" was a Chinese cartoon from the 00s that I gather was quite popular? (There's not a lot of information in English about it beyond the basics I could find.) So this was going to be a continuity crossover between Transformers and that series which, yes, is about the deity Nezha!

It was seemingly pretty damn far in production when a trailer came out in 2019. But then, well, COVID hit, and of course it hit China first and hard, and everything seemingly went out the window distribution wise. For all we know the series is mostly done somewhere and just... hasn't come out. The trailer below shows all sorts of clips of new animation, looking fully polished:

We know a little bit about the rest of the cast, partly from the very truncated toyline that did make it to Chinese shelves. Several new robot characters were designed: Xiaolong Nu, Lei Zhenzi, Tu Xingsun, and Shi Ji Niangniang. (So, we have more stuff from classical Chinese literature etc here. Theming!)

The toyline was very brief and infamously hard to get ahold of even in mainlaind China. Very little of it seems to have made it to shelves stock wise; the most common items seem to be the lego-style toys and the smaller scale three pack?

There was almost certainly never any intention of Nezha being marketed to any other region, and certainly no marketing material etc ever came out in English- which makes perfect sense given the crossover element, and anyway, as TF is very popular in China, it can easily support a cartoon and toyline as market size etc goes. I doubt we would have gotten even fansubs tbh. But I want to see it so bad knowing it exists! It really seems like it might have been far into production. And like. It's a CROSSOVER SERIES. That is such a wild thing to me, a full TF cartoon that is a crossover with something else. The franchise has really never. Done that for any extended piece of fiction bar Hasbro's own stuff. So...

[veryhardymemes]

Noah Kahan Sentence Starters Stick Season (We’ll Be Here Forever)

Content Warning For: Suicidal ideations/imagery, mentions of alcohol/drugs, depression/melancholia, mentions of COVID

Northern Attitude:

How you been? Settled down?

How’re your kids?

Where are you?

What does it mean?

Forgive my northern attitude

Stick Season:

I am stuck between my anger and the blame that I can't face

Memories are something even smoking weed does not replace

Doc told me to travel but there's COVID on the planes

I love Vermont, but it's the season of the sticks

I saw your mom, she forgot that I existed

I just like to play the victim

I thought that if I piled something good on all my bad that I could cancel out the darkness I inherited from dad

I’m no longer funny

My other half was you

I hope this pain’s just passing through 

I doubt it

All My Love:

How have things been?

Well, now that you mention it

I'm saying too much but you know how it gets out here

No winter coat could keep out all the cold of your atmosphere

You got all my love

If you need me dear, I'm the same as I was

You burrowed in under my skin

What I'd give to have you out from me

I just hope that your scars heal

I swear I was scared to death

She Calls Me Back:

Oh, there was heaven in your eyes

Everything’s alright when she calls me back

Look at me and don't you lie

For bullshit I do not have time

Does it bite at your edges?

Do you lie awake restless?

Why am I so obsessive?

This town's the same as you left it

The radio is taunting me

I don't get much sleep most nights

I'm seeing you in every dream

If only I could wake you up

If only I could fall asleep

I'll love you when the oceans dry

I'll love you when the rivers freeze

I was too afraid of living life in your footsteps

Come Over:

I’m in the business of losing your interest

Don't you know there's a coffin buried under the garden?

You won't have to guess who they're speaking about

I'm in the process of clearing out cobwebs

I was taking the wrong meds

It feels good to be sad

I know that it ain’t much

I know that it ain’t cool

You don’t have to tell the other kids at school

Someday I’m gonna be somebody people want

New Perspective:

Silence is making me nostalgic

We were kids but that don't make this less hard

If I could fly I doubt I'd even do it

You made Ohio feel just like Central Park

You and all of your new perspective now

Everywhere, Everything:

It's been a long year

Would we survive in a horror movie?

We trust everyone we meet

I wanna love you 'till we're food for the worms to eat

Keep my hand in yours

Orange Juice: 

Honey, come over

We know you got sober

There's orange juice in the kitchen

It’s yours if you want it

We're just glad you could visit

The last time I drank I was face down passed out there on your lawn

Are we all just crows to you now?

Are we all just pulling you down?

You didn't put those bones in the ground

Strawberry Wine:

Darling speak to me

Remember telling me that you thought you were cursed?

I'm in love with every song you've ever heard

If I could lose you I would

We buried your bones in plywood

I said love is fast asleep on a dirt road with your head on my shoulder

For you, darling, for you

No thing defines a man like love that makes him soft and sentimental like a stranger in the park

For a few moments, I see you

Growing Sideways:

So I took my medication

We argued about Jesus

I said I’m cured

I’m still angry at my parents

But it’s a start

I ignore things

At the end of the day I know there are worse ways to stay alive

I'm terrified that I might never have met me

I guess I’ll drive

So I forgot my medication

Now I’m suffering in style

Why is pain so damn impatient?

It's better to die numb than feel at all

Halloween:

I'm sailing away to a place I'm afraid of

I'm drinking my days with the coastal longshoreman

I drink 'till I drown and I smoke 'till I'm burning

I worry for you

You worry for me

I'm leaving this town and I'm changing my address

I know that you'll come if you want

There's a murder of crows in the low light off Boston

Homesick:

Two months since you got back

Are you bored yet?

The weather ain’t been bad

If you’re into masochistic bullshit

This place is such great motivation for anyone tryna move

Time moves so damn slow

I swear I feel my organs failing

I would leave if only I could find a reason

I'm mean because I grew up in New England

I got dreams but I can't make myself believe them

I’m homesick

Still:

I don’t want to say goodbye

You find love that lasts a while 'till you lose the reasons

You miss something that you can't place but you can't deny it

It's like I'm still here with you

It's a bottomless hole I've found out here with a trace of no one

The View Between Villages:

For a minute the world seems so simple

I’m seventeen again

I am not scared of death

I’ve got dreams again

Your Needs, My Needs:

Oh well, who was I?

Who was I to watch you wilt?

You ain't gotta tell me what it means

You'll always be a flower on my skin

I promise to be there this time

I'm naming the stars in the sky after you

Dial Drunk:

I'm remembering I promised to forget you now

I ain't proud of all the punches that I've thrown in the name of someone I no longer know

I don't like that when they threw me in the car

I gave your name as my emergency phone call

Even the cops thought you were wrong for hanging up

I’d die for you

The dial tone is all I have

I beg you, sir, just let me call

Let's wait I swear she'll call me back

Son, are you a danger to yourself?

Son, why do you do this to yourself?

Paul Revere:

This place had a heartbeat in its day

The boys are drunk

But it just ain't that simple, it never was

One day I'm gonna cut it clear

I’m not from around here

I'll leave before the road crew's out

Folks just disappear

If I could leave, I would've already left

No Complaints:

Thought I had something

That's the same as having something

I'd get mad at nothing

Blame my dad for something

I'd pull no punches

Thought I was raised better

Hope the skin heals where the pain enters

I set a time, then I showed up

Now the weight of the world ain't so bad

I filled the hole in my head with prescription medication

Who am I to complain?

And now the pain's different

I can finally eat and I can fall asleep

Call Your Mom:

Oh, you’re spiraling again

Don't let this darkness fool you

All lights turned off can be turned on

I’ll drive all night

I’ll call your mom

If you could see yourself like this, you'd have never tried it

Oh dear, don't be discouraged

I've been exactly where you are

Throw a punch, fall in love, give yourself a reason

Don't wanna drive another mile wondering if you're breathing

Won’t you stay with me?

You’re Gonna Go Far:

This is normal conversation, babe, it's all fine

The college kids are getting so young, ain't they?

I got tired of the frat boys with the brights on

"This is good land" or at least it was

Say whatever you feel, be wherever you are

We're overdue for a revival

We spent so long just getting by

You told me you would make a difference

[nightswithkookmin]

Hey Goldy

Hope u are doing good cos i am not atall. When JK said Be happy even without us and cried on Live. He Literally cried infront of millions of people. Why did it felt like a Good Bye ? My heart is broken. I am sad. I have never thought about being happy without BTS in my life. I know this day will come when Army will have to learn to live and be happy without BTS but not now not anytime soon. I am not ready but what JK did in that Live has left sadness in my heart. I am happy about Set me free pt 2 teaser and been streaming it. Its going to be Legendry. I am excited for Jimin album but my damn mind keeps thinking of JK and his face with tears rolling down is bothering me. I dont know whats going on with him but i am praying to God that it was just Alcohol and nothing more.

I was bopping my head and sobbing along till I read goodbye

Ma'am step away from the light I will not lose you

Saying goodbye to WHOMST???

Not me cos he and I are not done

We have JJK1 to promote, stream and get to number one.

Goodbye, chileee I will move into his basement and ship him from there. now both he and I are uncomfortable staring at eachother cos my fat ass didn't fit under his bed.

Jungkook is not going anywhere hajima😫

Like you said, he switched on live television to cry in front of millions of people. If he had somewhere else to go with his angsty ass he wouldn't be here doing al that 🥴

Imagine being his 'girlfriend' and seeing him shed tears and cry himself to sleep drunk in front of million strangers when he could have come to you and cried and be vulnerable with you so you console him

When I think about all the times Jimin said I was talking with Jungkook, caressing our phones, crying, talking about how I want to be with the members for a very long time- these people have girlfriends my ass

Tae can't relate

I was expecting this around covid and around the time they announced their Solo careers. Seems he didn't give himself time to take it all in and deal and now it's hitting him hard🥴

I think it's good he is processing pent up emotions and externalizing certain thoughts. There are so many things I want to address from that video but will save it for another blog.

He is at the height of his career and he knows it. He's gonna process that somehow, the doubt the uncertainty, the fear, I just hope it doesn't paralyze him. Suga went through a similar phase as did Namjoon. Every artist goes through this.

People think it's easy to step out of the shadows of a big band as BTS and just catapult into the lime light- they should as Zayne Malik💀

As RM said, it's just too many voices telling you you are no good without your bandmates, too many people tearing your self Esteem apart, telling you you will fail, suddenly you are doubting if that song you made is good, wondering if you will become successful etc

For Jungkook I heard him saying all these, raising all these questions and curiosity about a solo career even before they announced it. I don't think it's easy for him. There's a lot of expectations and pressure to excel. Poor thing.

I really wish Jimin was free and had time to cuddle him. He just needs to be spooned. He will be fine 🙂

I think sometimes they don't realize the effect their tears have on us. Especially when they're crying and being sentimental and ominous about your career😫

I don't think it's just the alcohol. There's something going on with him. But i think he will be fine. the fact Namjoon told him to be quick and release his album means he has something in the works which is good. I don't want to analyze him too much cos it will take me away from Jimin.

We love him and I'm sure he feels the love.

The best we can do is support him and assure him we will be here for him whenever he needs us.

I feel Jimin is competing with a lot of people for army's attention. I love the competition but it's becoming ridiculous.

Let's stay focused. Let's learn to prioritize.

When we are done with Face, we have all the time in the world to discuss Jungkook's moody phase.

I want to hug you and tell you everything will be fine

Here's something to cheer you up

If that don't do it try this🥵

In a few days he's gonna be dropping an MV that's gonna keep all the girlies active 🥺

That still doesn't cheer you up? Crazy😩

Fine. I'll post a full analysis soon😓