#how things were before covid. but shes dead set on we have the same hours. like no. we dont. we are at 100 hours LESS a week because we

[callsignbaphomet]

Okay, so this is gonna be a long post and probably very detailed because I don't know how to summarize shit. I'm gonna be very honest in this post and it's nothing new to some of you but like I said I wanna be honest and in my being honest I may use certain language but it doesn't mean I'm making excuses for myself or looking for pity. I am just being very honest about how I feel. Now, with that outta the way, I wanna apologize for the length of this post lol

So as you may or may not have seen from a recent post I have been making plans to go back to school, technical school to be precise, but school nonetheless. Why? For the last 4 months I have been working very hard to find a job. I shit you not I have at one point filled out 30 applications in less than 72 hours. I've gone to countless job interviews, have wasted my own time, gas and money to be able to get a job. So far I landed that job at the airport but I left it before the week was out. See, during that interview I was promised a position directly with Spirit Airlines because of my previous 6 years of working at the airport. I only signed up because of that. So when I officially started I was then told they tell almost everyone that kind of thing to get people to sign up for the job. I was back at pushing wheelchairs only this time the company was somehow far worse than the one I had worked for previously. Pushing wheelchairs wasn't the problem. The problem was I had signed up for something in particular and was promised something wildly different than what I was facing. On top of that the first thing I heard on my very first day was "Watch what you say and to who to avoid drama. Also watch out for Nino because if she had a bad day she's gonna take it out on you."

...

What the fuck?

I also found out the hard way that leads don't like to help out other employees regardless of how busy the day is. I literally saw Nino seating her ass down all day long drinking coffee, meanwhile the rest of us were starving because we couldn't take our breaks because there were too many wheelchair requests. Hell, no. I left. I'm at an age where being a miserable sack of shit at a dead end job is NOT what I want.

And if any of you remember on February I'd been hired at The Exchange which is a U.S. military owned store. A glorified Walmart to be very fucking honest. I'd applied for a certain position and they put me in another that I couldn't do so they gave me the choice of either staying in that position or quitting. Not much of a choice. So countless mistakes on my part, a lot of humiliation, and gaslighting from management later I was fired for not being able to "perform my duties well". No shit, you piece of shit. Basically they set me up to fail which I did because they kept me in an area that I told them I wouldn't be able to work in and asked to be changed to the position I had applied to but they didn't. I even showed them all the email evidence but they all decided to tell me to my face that "I was aware of what I was doing". That was a super low point for me and my depression came back 10x fold.

Between March and July I was at the worst I'd ever been and being serious here video games kept me alive. I fucking sunk myself into ER and other games just so I wouldn't have to think about anything. I didn't really talk too much about it just to avoid thinking about it.

Then in July I got hit with the combo of covid and bronchitis and there I found I have diabetes. I legit wanted to fucking die right then and there. I hadn't felt that low since my last actual job, which, was the hotel.

That one single year at the hotel was one of the most traumatic experiences of my life. I had a boss that CONSTANTLY kept telling me I was doing shit wrong. We were told to always remain driving the golf carts regardless of if it was raining or sunshine. My back hasn't been the same since. I was so stressed my period got fucked up and it was non-stop for a whole 2 months. I had to see a doctor and he even pointed out it was due to stress. My mental state deteriorated and I was in an ugly place. On top of that during that job was when I had that incident where some drunk asshole wanted to have his first gay experience and wouldn't take no for an answer and got VERY handsy.

That one whole year destroyed me and after I got fired it just destroyed my confidence and the effects are still affecting me. I legit question myself and I'm afraid of fucking everything. Every time I apply for a job I question if I can do it even if it's just standing there doing nothing. I will go hours on end worried half to death if I'll be capable of doing the job to the point of nausea.

So yeah, for a few years I avoided looking for a job because I was super afraid and depressed.

Coming back to 2022, around mid August I was actually doing a lot better, like pre depression me better. Sure it was due to the scare of catching the dieabeetus but the support from my family was so eye opening. It was life changing. So learning how to manage my radically different life I decided I was ready to get out there and get a job and get back on my feet after 5 years of depression.

It's been exhausting trying to find a decent job. The straw that broke the camel for me recently and made the depression pop back up again was an interview at a funerary home where they legit told me to my face, "We actually called you in for an interview because we were curious about this large 5 year gap between jobs. We were wondering if you just didn't wanna work."

.........

Listen, older people in the island keep parroting that nonsense about people not wanting to work anymore and it is so fucking damaging and harmful. Look, I am insanely proud of the younger generations telling shitty jobs that barely pay to fuck off and die. I am so proud that people have had enough of the abuse and want to stop it. So employers are out there crying that people don't wanna work anymore. No, you stupid puta, people are just so tired of abuse and barely making ends meet because y'all don't wanna pay people livable wages. I hate that shit, every time someone says that "no one wants to work anymore" I chew their ears off. I don't care who it is. I will verbally assassinate you if you say that garbage in front of me.

I've been working my ass off trying to find a job. Am I being picky about the location? Yes. Yes, I am. Traffic in Puerto Rico is a massive fucking nightmare. I don't want an 8 to 5 where I have to get up at 4:30 to be out at 5:30 to get to work at time and then get home at 9. I want to have enough time to get to the gym. Ever since I joined I've been losing so much weight and have been feeling so fucking amazing and it has had my diabetes in such amazing control that my A1C results went from 10.35% down to 4.2% from August to October! My family was in absolute shock when they saw the paperwork. So I do NOT wanna sacrafice my time at the gym for some crap job that'll treat me like shit, barely give me any time to myself and pay me horribly. Going to the gym has been the best decision of my life and I do not want to give it up.

So on to now. A year or more ago my aunt brought up courses of pet grooming to me but back then I was still deep in my depression and mess so I shrugged it off. Recently she noticed I was frustrated and stressed over not being able to land a job and she brought up the pet grooming courses again and I thought it was a good idea. I love animals, especially dogs, so working with animals, being able to set my own schedule, rules and do my own thing sounds like an amazing idea. So in February I'll be starting pet grooming classes. The course is 8 months long so if all goes well I'll be done by October.

I wanna dedicate all 8 months to the courses so looking for a job is on pause. The classes are 5 hours and 50 minutes from Monday to Thursday and I get overwhelmed easily. I've been stuck in a depressive jobless state for 5 years what's 8 more months? Besides, it was when I had full availability and I wasn't getting hired, a restricted schedule will make me seem far less appealing unless they're okay with a weekend warrior which I've yet to see.

What I'm getting at is that I am actually considering opening commissions just to get a teeny tiny bit of cash flow while at school. Now, I don't really have any unique angle to bring to the table, I don't have many followers, I am very painfully obviously self-taught but I'm willing to dedicate Fridays, Saturdays and Sundays to that. I'm still very unsure if I'll try that yet but I've been flirting with the idea. I wanna play around with some other ideas before I give a definitive answer. IF and when I do I'll make a post about it with all the info.

So yeah, that's pretty much everything covered. Sorry for the length but if you read till the end I am eternally grateful and I love you for it.

#werewolf howls at dusk

[dayeongi]

Well-wishes

I saw the texts come in this morning as I worked.

They came from a number I didn’t have saved, but I saw a preview on the notifications. Words like “I’m sorry” and “I didn’t know how to handle...” and my breath caught in my throat.

Almost as soon as I realized who it was, the last text came in. It said “i’m X.”

I managed to swallow the trepidation and finish off an email to let the dread settle comfortably before I opened them. They looked to be long and emotionally destructive.

X had been my best friend since the first day of preparatory school. From the very first day I got to school 3 hours early because I made a mistake with my timetable, and she asked if I was always early, and I said yes, and then that was the last time I was early to school.

She’d been there for 11 years. Through my father’s death of Covid, she had brought a chair and sat outside my house, brought me groceries, and chatted with me through the glass window for the entire 14 days I was quarantined. And that made it worth the times she’d stood me up or let me down, or made me wait for hours because there was always something going on.

She had been there through my first boyfriend and first serious crush (which were two different people). She had been there through the abusive household I lived in, and I was there through her first serious relationship with a mutual friend, from the beginning through its messy end, I chose her every time, because I thought that’s what best friends were like. And I was there as much as she let me be.

Last I’d heard from X was in 2021, she’d told me she was in an unsafe situation with her stepfather at home, and asked if she could move into my spare room, and pay rent. I said come, don’t pay rent, just help with the utilities and groceries.

She said yes, and dropped off some of the things that same day, and she slept over. Next morning before she left for work, she said she’d drop by her current place and pick up the rest of her stuff after work. I said I’d wait for her to come back to order groceries so we could save on delivery fees and gave her my spare set of keys.

She called during work hours, and said she would be coming over tomorrow; she was afraid of her stepfather so she wanted to get her things out when they were out.

I said that was fine since she had keys anyway, and asked if she wanted me to wait to order groceries.

She didn't show up the next day. Or the next.

This was normal from her. She never kept her word.

I messaged just to check on her and ask if she still wanted me to hold off on the groceries.

No response for another two days. I started to get nervous. I ordered the groceries because I'd ran out of stuff, and messaged her again.

I let her know I could just take care of the delivery fees. No response for the rest of the day.

Then, a premade-like message. "I'm sorry, I can't answer right now, but I'll get back to you ASAP."

Like the ones you set up on your phone to be sent automatically.

I started to panic, because I didn't know her stepfather, and in my country, you can make people disappear with under 100 gbp, and she'd recently had experienced a situation almost like that with a taxi driver.

I thought, "what if I'm sitting here, thinking she's fine and just not getting back to me, and instead she's dead in a ditch somewhere."

My best friend of 11 years.

I called several times. Several being maybe 4 times in the span of an hour, which wasn't strange for us.

I calmed myself, and decided I'd been dumb not to check on her social media; I normally don't check people's profiles at all.

What I saw was surreal. I'd been there, sitting in my living room floor thinking my best friend was dead; she had been so urgent, and seemed so frightened.

During that time, she had been going on brunches, and on a roadtrip with her fiancé.

The change of plans itself was irrelevant. It was the lack of consideration. The shamelessness of putting me on hold without giving me a word.

I called her again. No response. I stewed on it for another two days, waiting to hear back.

Nothing.

I sent her a message. "I just think it's unfair that you asked me to do this for you, then left me waiting here to hear back from you for over a week, worried out of my mind."

No response that day. Or the next. I message her again. "Please let me know when I can go pick up the stuff (I'd lent her for a trip)"

No response, until later that day. It has been 2 weeks since she came to my house panicking about needing somewhere to stay immediately.

There was no apology. Instead she said she would drop off my spare set of keys, and she needed some space from me, and maybe one day we could be friends again once I was in a better headspace.

That she had no reason to report what she was up to every minute of her life, and that if it had been such a pain to wait for her, to not bother.

To add insult to injury, that she loved me and would be there for me if I ever needed anything.

I snarked back. I said things like "I don't need to know every single thing you do every single minute, and sorry I give a shit about you"

Then she took everything I'd ever trusted her with, all the times I'd been frustrated with my family and told her, and used it to say I was the problem, that I was the reason I always had interpersonal conflict, and the reason my life was the way it was, and I needed to reflect on myself and the shit path my life was taking.

She sent me her love again. My best friend of 11 years.

I didn't send her love back. I only asked to get my shit.

I will spare anyone who is reading the boring negotiations and promises she never kept to give me back my stuff, until she finally did.

She dropped them off at my place. It was raining. I awkwardly avoided looking anywhere above her hands; I knew I would cry if I did.

I thanked her as I closed the door out of politeness.

On text, after I'd closed the door after myself, she'd sent me her love and well-wishes again.

Like she hadn't riled me up and prepared me to help her. Like I was a wet stray under the rain she looked at pitifully.

Well-wishes. Hah.

I blocked her the very moment I saw them.

I hadn't hear from her in a while until a mutual friend shared the photos of her wedding.

She had taken the dream wedding dress design I'd made for myself, that I had so delicately and secretly shown her, and made it for herself.

I blocked every mention of her from everywhere, and over time I realized, I was starting to feel like a full person again as soon as I stopped constantly giving her everything.

I put my face on the desk.

Which brings me to today, and the 5 deleted messages. From an unknown number.

I pointed out I could see someone had tried to message me.

"sorry, I got the wrong number," she said, and I thought: how fucking unfair to mess up my tuesday and try to play me for a fool. How fucking evil and selfish of X to wish me a good day and try to deceive me into taking her well-wishes again. All for her own comfort or healing or whatever she was trying to do by messaging me on a fucking tuesday.

But, honestly, I wasn't sure I wanted to talk to X. Too much has happened. Too much time has passed.

I didn't want to be carrying around a piece of her anymore. So I pretended to buy it.

And X decided to text me back. "Sorry. I actually didn't get the wrong number. But I don't want to tell you who I am because I'm afraid. Regardless, I just want to wish you a good day."

Some part of me relished in the fact that she was scared. So I said "thank you, X."

I wanted her to feel what I felt when I saw her messages pop up on the screen, then disappear.

Maybe I wanted to fuck up her tuesday too because I'm also a coward.

And because I'm a coward, I pretended I guessed, but wasn't sure if it was really X.

"We can play a guessing game. I'm someone who likes to shop around for useless stuff. And I always scolded you for eating your fries before your burger."

And I said "so you're really X." Even though I'd always known, from the 5th, deleted message.

Bracing myself for impact, I read the messages she sent after. About how sorry she was about everything that happened, that she had been a fool and I'd been a great friend, and she hopes everything is going well for me.

How if I ever wanted to, we could go get a burger together again.

For a moment, I thought about saying yes. Because she'd been my best friend for 11 years. Because I was lonely. Because she remembered I like to eat my fries before the burger.

Then, I remembered how she'd known exactly how to hurt me and hadn't hesitated in my lowest moment, then skipped-off into the sunset with my dream wedding dress for a wedding I haven't been able to hold for myself. Apparently now self-reportedly with regrets.

How she had selfishly tried to give me unsolicited well-wishes to ease her own guilt.

Too much has happened. Too much has been said. Too much time has passed. The scar of the space where she used to be is old and gnarled, but a scar.

I replied, "I'm also sorry about how everything happened, and I always did wish you the best."

X seemed to falter. She typed and deleted. Typed and deleted.

She thanked me for giving her my time.

She said she hadn't know how to handle her own situation and emotions and everything had just gone out of control, and she'd done it all before she'd realized it, and then got scared to try to fix it.

X seemed to have realized what I meant by not responding to her burger invitation thing.

She said again she'd kept me in her good memories, and although she knew things couldn't ever be the same again, that she regretted it.

I thanked her, etcetera. Wished her a good life.

Sincere, I mean. 

I'm not sure if I was sincere, this only happened today. I don't know what I'm feeling.

But I want to think my well-wishes were. 

It's the best I can give her now.

I want to think I said it out of gratitude for those 11 years. For the time she stood outside my house when I was afraid I was dying every time I gasped for breath.

Of the time that I told her I was afraid I wanted to off myself, and she drove to my house at 12:35 AM and held me as I cried.

Well-wishes. 

The only thing I'm willing to give her now.

#something happened today and I had to get it out writing #don't mind if anyone reads #dayeongi life #writing

[agentbeeswrites]

This is going to be a rant about shows being cancelled and the state of streaming services and media.

I'm mad about Warrior Nun being canceled. I'm mad about First Kiss. I'm mad about Gentleman Jack, Legends of Tomorrow (and the whole lot of DC shows), The Owl House, Charmed. Older canceled shows like One Day at a Time, Dark Matter, Wonderfalls, Sweet/Vicious, the Hulu & Freeform Marvel shows (The Runaways, Cloak & Dagger), Teenage Bounty Hunters, Adventure Time, Steven Universe, Wynonna Earp. Carnival. Warehouse 13. STUMPTOWN! I'm never going to stop screaming about the tragedy of that one. There are tons more. I don't have hours to list them all.

It sucks when a good show gets canceled. It sucks when you look for more content, and all you can find is the same show starring the same kind of tough, cishet, white dude that's in its seventh season and has three spinoffs. There is never an abundance of queer content. It feels like there is when we get lucky enough to have multiple shows in a year, but it's nothing compared to cishet content.

Things began to change with Netflix a few years before COVID. I want to point to COVID and blame it for everything, and it certainly did have a big impact on production costs, but the fact is that Netflix (specifically) has been reluctant to have any show last for more than two or three seasons because then it has to pay everyone more. They'd rather cancel and start up a new show.

There's a problem with streaming services and access in general, though. You've probably started to watch an older show on Netflix (one that they license) and found that it would be leaving the service at the end of the month. It might be available on another service, or it might not be available anywhere.

And then there's the issue of licensing.

If you have a physical copy because the company who produced it included selling physical media in the deal or budget for the show, you can always rewatch it and relive the good times. But if it's a streaming-only show, there's a very low chance it will ever be legally sold on physical media.

Remember the Marvel shows on Netflix? I want to own more than one season of Jessica Jones. Guess how many seasons were released on disc? If you guessed "one," then you are correct. Even Daredevil only had two seasons released on disc, and it was a breakout hit.

Remember Wynonna Earp? IDW used Kickstarter to fund the box sets. They didn't even go through a major distributor.

I'll never see Sweet/Vicious on disc. I'll never own She-Ra on blu-ray. The Runaways, Cloak & Dagger (I know it's not queer, but I love that show, ok?), Sense8, Arcane, Dead to Me, Derry Girls, Paper Girls, ALOTO, Gentleman Jack - I'll probably never be able to buy any of them legally.

Yes, I know that the first three seasons of SPOP were released on DVD. Where's the rest of it? Where's my blu-ray release?

The best and worst thing the digital age has given us has been streaming services. You have a huge library of content at your fingertips that can be taken away at any moment.

Just look at the shit show that is HBO Max after the Warner/Discovery merger. Shows are getting cut from that service faster than I can keep track of. Shows that may never see the light of day again (or ever, in the case of per-release properties) because WB/D holds the rights and is shoving them into storage in an attic. We are watching shows become lost media.

I'm getting tired of my shows being canceled. I'm getting tired of them being locked behind one particular service in a landscape where every company has to have its own platform. Streaming was supposed to be the alternative to cable, but they're squeezing us for more and more and giving us less and less for it.

But I'm tired of there being fewer and fewer legal ways to consume content offline. Even in the 90s and early 2000s when shows were cut down at alarming rates, we still had physical media. For example, Shout Factory was well known for putting out obscure or classic shows and movies with a big enough fan base.

(Note to self: buy that Facts of Life set before it disappears for another 20 years.)

We may need to go back to smaller companies making their own content. I don't know. It feels like the streaming wonderland is collapsing, and I don't know what system will rise from the ashes.

I used to joke that knowing me was getting to experience a list of shows that were canceled before their time. It's still true.

#show cancellations #streaming media #lost media #physical media #queer content #it's complicated and frustrating

[booksandabeer]

Thoughts on Black Panther: Wakanda Forever

I saw the movie on Friday and I was going to write this up all pretty but I feel like shit today (Covid test as of yet still negative, fingers crossed), so for now at least, I simply decided to write down all my scattered thoughts before I forget everything entirely.

I’ve spoiler-tagged this and I don’t really think that there is much in this movie that can be spoiled apart from the one big reveal that everybody knew was coming anyway, but just to be safe, I’ll put it behind a keep reading thingy. So if you don't want to know anything that happens in this movie, scroll on!

Ok. Overall, I enjoyed this movie. It was the best movie of Phase 4 by far, which, yes is not a very high bar to clear, but still.

It’s a beautiful, heartfelt tribute and farewell to both Chadwick Boseman and the character of T’Challa. It’s at its best when it allows itself and the characters room to grieve and process their loss. The opening montage is really quite something and I don’t think I’ve ever been in a movie theater that was as dead silent as it was after that sequence.

Is it a good movie? I don’t know. There’s certainly a lot of heart in it and you can tell that everybody is sincerely invested in making this into the best possible thing it could be, given the circumstances (and thank god, for once it’s not a never-ending quippy-quip parade). But. It still suffers from the same problems that have plagued the MCU for some time now. It’s too much and not enough at the same time. It feels simultaneously frantically paced and overlong.

There are about 500 characters in this movie and only 2 or 3 get something resembling a cohesive arc.  By the time Lupita Nyong’o finally showed up more than an hour into the movie, I had forgotten that Nakia was even supposed to be in it because there were simply so many other characters. Even if we only keep to the Wakandan side of things and disregard everybody from Talokan and Langley, we still have Shuri, Ramonda, M’Baku, Ayo, Aneka, Okoye, Riri, Nakia, and—surprise!—Killmonger to deal with. And while it’s obvious that they tried very hard to give each of these characters at least one moment to shine, it’s just too much. I was so excited when it was announced that Aneka was going to be in this sequel, and even more so when Michaela Coel was cast because certainly, you don’t hire an actress of that caliber unless she’s going to play a substantial role. But honestly, I have no idea why she was even in this movie. She did nothing that couldn’t have been done by, say, Ayo or Okoye. What a disappointment. Similarly, why was Riri Williams in this movie (other than the obvious explanation of setting up her tv show)? The actress did her best with what she was given and I found her quite charming, but the character just felt like she was beamed in from an entirely different movie. She seemed completely out of place, in the regular dialogue scenes but even more so in the action sequences. I can’t even honestly tell you whether or not I liked the design of the Ironheart suit because I was so distracted by how out of place it looked in the final battle between the Wakandans and the Talokanil.

Speaking of that final battle, the CGI is…a problem. There are parts of the movie that look beautiful (I honestly teared up when we first returned to Wakanda and got to see it again in all its glory) but other parts look…janky, if not outright laughably bad. There are some shots in the movie that looked so atrocious that people in my screening started laughing. I’ve seen better animation in PS3(!) video games. Marvel, fix your shit, give your VFX artists enough time and PAY THEM, ffs.

Ok, this getting really long, so just a few more stray thoughts.

Angela Bassett is magnificent in this movie. If they play it right and plan a good campaign for her, I can’t see how she’s not getting an Oscar nomination for this.

Letitia Wright! While I’m not a big fan of her as a person, it has to be said that she really stepped up here. She was unexpectedly (or at least way earlier than originally planned) “promoted” to the main character of the BP franchise and she really did turn in a wonderful, moving and inspiring performance. And she looked impossibly cool while doing it. I was so full of tracksuit envy!

Which leads me to the costume design, which is once again absolutely fantastic. Ruth E. Carter did it again—everybody here looks cool, interesting, fabulous and very grounded in their respective cultures.

Finally, just a quick word on where do we go from here? I can see a rough outline on where this is going with regards to the Thunderbolts movie, but honestly, we don’t know shit and this movie didn’t really tell us anything. So really, everything is up in the air and it’s all just speculation at this point. And oh, because I’ve seen posts float around about how Killmonger mentions Bucky to Shuri and that this could set up a possible revenge plot…that doesn’t make a whole lot of sense to me. First of all, because Killmonger doesn’t actually mention Bucky at all. He says that T’Challa was weak ruler because “he let the man who killed his father live”. Well. That man was Zemo, not Bucky and Shuri knows that. Second, seeing that Shuri’s entire arc in this movie is about letting go of blind rage and the thirst for revenge, and instead granting herself the time and grace to let herself grieve for all that she’s lost—why would she then go on some nonsensical revenge spree? She’s certainly going to go up against Val & Co in the future, but I think (and I fervently hope) that it would make much more sense if she enlisted Bucky as a double agent who infiltrates the Thunderbolts (he does kinda owe the Wakandans a pretty big favor after all). But then again, it wouldn’t be the first time the MCU moves in a direction that is completely illogical. And really, what do I know?  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Ok. I have to go lie down now.

#black panther #black panther: wakanda forever #black panther wakanda forever #black panther spoilers #wakanda forever spoilers #black panther: wakanda forever spoilers #wakanda forever #mcu #movie ramblings

[suilinbride]

Making a Confession, Stepping Away from Kemetic Orthodoxy, and Kicking My Own Ass in the Process

I know I've been a little quiet again here recently, save for building upon the foundation of this blog and occasionally setting up some of the framework for how this blog is going to look, feel, and act in the future. That's very much by design actually, as I've been dealing with family shenanigans again, taking care of my own personal and physical health, helping to finish taking care of a long term problem that's been festering in my personal Blind Pagan community for over ten months now, and finally, though not the last nor the least of what's currently going on with me on my end, I just finished up participating at the national convention for the National Federation of the Blind this weekend. Yes, I'm fully aware I'm busy like headless chick in staked to the back of a fucking Roadrunner.

Anyway, I have a confession to make here and I'm fully aware that actively choosing to become a Remejt and ignoring the issue at hand puts me squarely in the wrong for sure.

During this weekend while I was resting and waiting between two events being held by the convention that were hours apart from one another, I decided to do a lot personal soul searching and decided in the end to take no further steps with Kemetic Orthodoxy and instead allow my membership to falter, fall, and fade away like dust in the wind in the end. I actually regret agreeing to stay on as a Remetj at the end of the beginner course. I regret doing so because agreeing to stay on as Remetj was in a number of ways me lying to myself and not being completely honest all around. Some of my beliefs are incompatible with Kemetic Orthodoxy's beliefs and practice, and I should have said something right there and then. I plan on emailing someone on the site and asking them to go ahead and remove my membership or whatever it's called on the forum.

I came into the beginner course with two goals in mind, one of which would only work if I ended up becoming a Remetj. First, I wanted to learn some decent structure to help jump start my Kemetic practice, as I am currently unable to get ahold of any accessible copies of materials that are recommended as must have reading resources for getting into practicing Kemeticism. Second, I confess that I was extremely tempted by the idea of the Rite of Parent Divination or at least the idea of it as an easy way to figure out who one's gods are without doing the proper work and all the blood, sweat, and tears that usually go into that kind of work in the long run to be successful at forming healthy and strong relationships with beings, deities, etc.

I'm ashamed at the fact that I tried taking the easy way out in a way, instead of taking the first real step on the road to figuring things out on my own. I've never done that before. Yes, I've sought aid from other Diviners to obtain clues that I was missing out on to help me narrow things down and find the right trail to get where I want to go, or to confirm or debunk a conclusion or possibility when I think I'm at the end of the road, end of my rope, and there's not really anything else I can do except get a yay or nay on the subject at hand. But I've never shyed away from the work before, the real hard personal work that goes into building proper healthy relationships with beings, deities, etc, and I'm kicking my own ass hardcore for trying to take the easy way out this one time.

It's not an excuse I'm trying to offer here but merely offering the facts or at least what I think happened or at least the processes that were going on in my head when all of these things happened, but I think the struggle that I've been going through the past year regarding straightening out my practice between Greek or Roman (I'll talk more about that in a later post), that my exhaustion of sorts got in the way of my proper mindset of things and I ended up throwing my own rules and personal protocols of doing the work tofigure things out straight out the window for something that would make things easier. Just typing the words leaves ashes in my mouth.

Either way, in the end Brighid made the whole thing moot in a very interesting way. See, Brighid and I have a personal deal or pact you can say, that among other things, she gets to call the shots on which deities I can and can not worship. This is something I entered in with her with my eyes completely wide open and understanding completely what it meant to give her that kind of power. I made this deal with her several years ago as a last ditch attempt as a desperate and last resort sort of action to save my sanity and most likely my life. I mean that in all seriously. I was being attacked by a deity that refused to take no for an answer, refused to respect my sense of consent, and was gunning for me in a way that would either see me as her's and her's alone, or dead in the process. I'm not kidding when I write that, not one bit. I can tell you some crazy horror stories regarding what happened during that terrible year, as it was the kind of year where everything crashed and burned as if it was ignited by Napalm of all things.

But I digress, as I tend to do way too damn much. I got my second vaccination shot for Covid on the eighteenth of June, which was a Friday, and ended up obtaining a Fever of One Hundred Five that Saturday morning. Brighid decided to take that as an opportunity to rekindle our relationship in the exact same way she did when she first healed and claimed me Fifteen years ago this past February. We've been struggling with just about every aspect of our relationship for the past seven years or so, and while this didn't fix everything completely (as there is still a lot of work for both of us to get things where we both want things to be in our relationship), this whole crazy spiritual ordeal cleared the way for us in so many ways that I can't even begin to describe properly.

One of the things that got brought up was the status and nature of every relationship I have or hoped to have with every deity I've been building a relationship with for years now. A lot of uncertainties, confusion, illusions, and chaos all fell away. There are some major changes in my practice I need to write about at some point, but I'm still wrapping my head around it all first. I haven't had the time to do so yet, and it's something I'm working on as I type this all out. 

With all of the things that were cleared away, she showed me which of the Egyptian gods I had a fledgling relationship with, many of which I should have known (all things considered with my brief history with Kemeticism), but didn't have a clue until this crazy shit happened. That doesn't mean that everything is fine and dandy. It's far from it actually. I may know which of the Netjeru I have fledgling relationships with, but I need to do the work to actually build said relationships with those Netjeru on my own. I need to and I'm going to put in the blood, love, respect, sweat, and tears I put in with every relationship I have with deity and non deity alike.

And with all of that now written, here's my confession for whatever it's worth. If nothing else, I now have a clear mind and a far more cleaner heart. I'm a firm believer in stepping up and speaking out about making mistakes, fucking up, and not being or doing my best and then work on fixing those mistakes and doing my damndest to be and do even better next time. This is the first step in doing so, in my heart and mind anyway. 

#Kemetic Orthodoxy #Kemeticism #Rite of Parent Divination #Personal Confessions #Remetj #Netjeru #Deities #Brighid #Covid #Brighid Deity #National Convention #National Federation of the Blind #Personal Ramblings #Personal Spiritual Ramblings #Fixing Mistakes #Methods of My Madness #Deity Relationships #Posts by Blind Rob #Long Posts by Blind Rob

[helenarlett-rex]

So today was a day...

Not more than 10 minutes after opening the doors at work this morning I had a man try to enter the building without a mask. As I was stationed at the door this morning I offered the man a fresh mask and informed him that we are requiring people to wear masks inside the building. He ignored me by telling me that he already checked with the county commissioner and there is no county mandate for people to wear masks then walked right past me into the building. I quickly followed after him, trying to inform him that it was library policy that had nothing to do with county mandates but he again refused to listen to me and started rambling on with the same speel, refusing to listen to me. And the kicker was... he didn’t even want to use the library... He just wanted to return his books. Books he could have very easily put in the drop box right outside the door. But instead of doing that, he wanted to walk into the building without a mask to return them. In other words, he wanted to swing his dick around and prove to me he could do anything he wanted and I couldn’t stop him.

This of course went into an incident report I had to spend the morning filling out... Just because this asshole wanted to feel like no one could tell him what to do, I was forced to spend the morning filling out paperwork when I really needed to be doing other things, putting me way behind in my duties for the day. Something simple that would have taken him all of ten seconds, or even less than that if he had used the book drop, ended up costing me an hour and a half of my time which I really didn’t have to spare in the first place...

But that was only the start of my horrible day... Because the rest of the day was filled with similar people just like him who all felt the need to make our lives miserable over the covid precautions put into place in the library. As it turns out, there was to be a board meeting at the end of the day held there at the library. A full board meeting consisting of the board members of both our library and the board members of our sister library in the next town over. And one of the topics on the agenda was discussing what covid precautions were to be taken going forward. Knowing this, the local rat lickers had apparently decided to start attacking us early, and keep at it thoughout the day, almost as if they were trying to wear us down and beat us into submission before the meeting even took place.

When my library director arrived at work that afternoon, she asked me to personally attend the meeting because she had added the incident report to the agenda and wanted me there if they had any questions. I agreed to attend. And when the day came to an end and the board meeting was begin, I received the unfortunate privilege of getting to bear witness to a mob of the worst, most entitled collection of plague rats our community had to offer.

I watched as somewhere around fifty unmasked people consisting of Covid Karen’s and their entire families came pouring into the library like a group of disease infested rats scurrying off of the docks of Messina. But they weren’t satisfied to just fill the building and breath their germs all over everyone. The moment they approached the area set up for the board meeting to take place, the began instantly, and loudly showing their complete disregard for the precautions the library was trying to take. Many of them loudly announcing that they had no intention of social distancing as they began moving all the chairs that had been set up for them to ensure they were as close together as possible. I myself was forced to leave my seat when a woman scooted her own so close to me she may as well have been sitting in my lap and then further refused to allow me to move my chair away from her. I was in fact forced to stand through the entire two hour meeting because it was the only way to distance myself from the rowdy crowd intent of breathing directly down my neck.

Even without the concern of covid, I have been diagnosed with PTSD and I don’t like people getting too close to me. But this angry mob that would have looked more at place gathering outside of Frankenstein’s castle with torches and pitch forks, many of whom would go on to complain about how masks were violating their medical rights, showed no concern for my own medical rights...

As soon as the meeting began, the board opened the floor to take comments from the public and what proceeded was a literal dick swinging competition as every Karen in attendance took their turn giving prepared speeches that went through the list of every rumor, conspiracy theory, easily disproven fact, bit of misinformation with no basis, and argument of having their freedoms taken away that anyone has ever heard in argument against covid safety. Each one trying their best to top the person who spoke before them with the rest of the crowd erupting in loud cheers and applauds at the end of each speech in what can only be described as the largest circle jerk I have ever witnessed.

Many of them even forced their children, some of them too young to even understand what was going on, to stand up and talk in front of the board for sympathy points...

When the floor was finally closed to comments, and the board began going over the topics on the agenda, the ill mannered crowd continued to interrupt as if it was their own meeting and they were only allowing the board to sit in on it. They had to be told several times by the board that their time to speak was over and still they continued to interrupt and even attempt to intimidate the board.

And then, after a period of topics the foaming plague rats didn’t understand or have any interest in, the moment finally came to discuss the matter of covid precautions moving forward. And to my horror... the proposal was immediately made by a member of our sister library’s board to immediately put an end to all policy and precaution related to Covid-19. I wasn’t surprised by this... I’ve long known that the director of our sister library was a rabid Red Hat, foaming at the mouth herself, and had likewise surrounded herself with like-minded people. But that made the horror no less real as this dead eyed, unmasked man who looked as if his heart should have been beating under the floorboards of an Edgar Allan Poe story, stated that he would accept no exceptions or amendments to anything other than pretending covid had never happened.

This decrepit old vulture went so far as to prevent the rest of the board from making any further suggestions and forcing a vote on the matter, all while exchanging winks with the mob of plague rats from the one eye that still worked. And when the vote was forced it came down to a 50/50 split. Every member of my library’s board voting against the proposal, with every member of our sister library’s board voting in favor of it.

And with the vote ending in a tie, it fell to the board’s trustee to cast the tie breaking vote... A man who is so out of touch with the actual workings of the library, and has so little regard for the members of staff who keep the library running... that after knowing the man for eight years he still doesn’t know my name and continues to tell me what his name is and where his library card is located every time he checks out a book... (Yes... I know who you are... Yes, I know your card is in the box under staff... And no... my name is not Bill so stop calling me that... Bill quit six years ago...) A treatment every member of staff receives from the man I might add... (Just how many people named Bill does he think works there...?) A man who’s term limit on the board is up and this was to be his last board meeting, no less... So regardless what decision he made, he wouldn’t have to stick around to deal with the fallout of such a decision... And this was who the deciding vote was given to...

Naturally he voted in favor of the proposal and just like that I watched as every ounce of safety I had in my job was stripped away while the disease bearing pestilence in attendance all cheered like a group of rednecks who had just been told the south finally won the Civil War. (A war many of those in attendance no doubt still believe is going on if the flags flying from that backs of their pickup trucks are any indication.) No longer would masks or social distancing be required inside the building. In fact, it can’t even be suggested... Occupancy and time limits are no more. Hours of operation are to be restored to full time... A feat I am still confused as to how we are to manage considering we barely have enough staff members to keep the library open for seven hours a day and no takers on open job positions... For a moment it almost sounded as if my own right to wear personal protective equipment was to be taken away, although my own director has informed me she will not enforce that and I am free to continue wearing whatever I would like. Although her ability to allow this remains to be seen...

But there you have it. A library staffed primarily by immunocompromised employees had its right to protect the well-being of said employees  taken away based on the decision of a completely different library in a different town, an ineffectual old man on his last day on the job, and a raving mob of entitled vermin using intimidation tactics and threats of lawsuits. (Because yes, they did threaten lawsuits...)

All that remains to be seen now is if I will even continue to have a job in the wake of this decision. Because the board who decided to strip us of the only feeling of security we had, is in fact the same board who has time and time again refused to pay us anything more than minimum wage while every other business around us is currently hiring at double what we are making. If our job is no longer any safer than any other job, what’s to keep us from leaving for someone who would pay more? I’ve worked there for eight years and I can go anywhere else and get twice what I make as a starting pay... I think it would be quite funny if all of the people who demanded we drop our safety precautions so they could enjoy the library in a way that was convenient for them suddenly came back the next day to find it closed entirely due to having no staff.

Oh and the incident report I was asked to attend the meeting was glossed over by the board who no longer had any interest in punishing people for breaking rules they had just decided to do away with. So the extra two hours taken out of my day were for nothing as well...

[pitiless-achilles-wept]

Not dead yet!: Marking my 2-year anniversaries

On Sunday I marked my two-year “cancerversary” of my diagnosis and on Tuesday a member of the support group I co-founded (for young women who are stage 4) died. Like me, she had triple-negative breast cancer. Like me, she was diagnosed stage 4 two years ago. Like me, she had exhausted several types of treatment (because triple-negative is a beast) and was looking for the one that would work. She asked me about Saci (Sassy!) and proposed trying it to her doctor less than a week before she died. Nine days before she passed she joined our Sunday cancer yoga group from bed at the hospital to join our meditation exercises. Like me, she remained confident and positive and absolutely refused to give up hope. (Like me, she also wore her hair purple sometimes.)

There were many things that are unlike about us too. She had two teenage children who now don’t have their mother. She was twelve years older than me and had had Hodgkin’s before she had breast cancer--even worse luck than mine, to triumph over one cancer only to get this diagnosis. Unlike me, she wasn’t strong enough for Saci, the only targeted triple-negative line of treatment, because her body had reacted badly to immunotherapy. She was in the hospital for two weeks with somewhat mysterious symptoms all of which added up to her body shutting down. On Saturday she went home with her family in hospice care. 2 days later she was gone.

It’s not usual for things to go so fast. Typically, doctors, patients, and family members all have some advance warning and patients spend a solid amount of time in hospice care. I am sure that people will ask me why it went that way for her. I’m asking myself why too, since it is so shocking and so entirely unfair. The fact that it can happen that way at all is frightening to me as a fellow patient since it’s the scenario of nightmares. That really could someday be me. No one ever wants to think that--and I cannot live my life focused on it either--but it has to be acknowledged as a possibility.

[More below the cut about memories from 2 years ago today and hopes for the future. Also, an invitation to contribute to some writing if you want.]

Today, January 28th, is the 2-year anniversary of my stage 4 diagnosis. In a way, it feels more significant than my initial cancer news. I had four days being horrified, but thinking that I would get through this as a phase in my life. It would be terrible--I’d have a double mastectomy, scorched-earth chemo, radiation, anything to get rid of the cancer--but then it would be done. On the Monday following my first set of CT scans I learned that that was not true. My lungs were full of tumors. (Later, after lots of waiting, MRIs and biopsies, I'd find that my lymph nodes, spine, and liver were affected too. I still have tumors in all those locations, but no new ones.) I wrote a description of getting that news in an email to a friend over the summer, after I had read Anne Boyer’s "The Undying”:

“The worst part about the lung tumors for me was that my dad had gotten a very early flight and I learned the news while he was in the air. My mom told me we could not text or tell him on the phone, that he would need to be with us both. So I drove to Newark straight from the doctor's office. It was in the teens outside and windy as we slogged to the baggage area where we were to meet. I saw my dad in his warmest and ugliest puffy orange down jacket, looking small in it, forlorn and horribly vulnerable. I fell into his arms, thinking at least that airports were such horrible places, so impersonal and banal, that no one would look twice. 'It's in my lungs,' I said into his shoulder so that I would not have to see his face. I was crying into the jacket that somehow smelled of winter cold even though he had been inside for hours. 'Please, Daddy. Fix it, please.' I spoke like a child because, on some very deep level, I think I really did still believe that my father could fix anything. I was embarrassed, though, and so I tried to stem my tears as he put his big hand on the back of my head and said, 'Oh sweetie, we'll get through this. We will.' I knew that really he could do nothing--and that this was his nightmare of powerlessness--and so I sniffed and blinked and I did not let myself cry again until June.”

Two years later this moment seems as if it just happened. The impact of my diagnosis on everyone dear to me, and especially my parents, is one of the worst things about it for me. We all know that there’s only so much “better” I can get, with the current science, and we’re all playing for time while the research moves forward towards something better, something that would make this a treatable chronic condition. I go back and forth, emotionally, on how likely I think that is and how good my position is for the future. Right now, comparing myself to the group member who died, I feel relatively fortunate, even as chemo exhausts me, I lose every scrap of hair that was ever on my body, and I spend half of my days being almost unable to eat from nausea and loss of taste. I feel glad that I was able to get Saci, that my body has so far stood up to the ceaseless trials I have put it through, with four treatments and surgery (and full-time work and living alone etc. etc.). I feel strong, not scared, even as I feel the emotional toll of terrible loneliness from covid isolation, winter, and carrying a sick body through my days alone.

I do not love the “fight” metaphor because so much of having an illness is completely out of your control and I never want to take myself (or anyone else) to task for “losing.” And so instead I will praise my body for enduring. I will praise myself for my enduring also, in both an emotional and physical way. I checked back in on how I was feeling as this anniversary approached last year and was pleased to see how much better I feel about it now, partly as a function of being in a treatment that is (likely) keeping me stable rather than in the midst of choosing another new one. Here is what I wrote back to my group of friends in November 2019, the run up to the one-year mark:

“I’m feeling like I can’t plan and don’t want to celebrate, like I can’t perform “fine” for the people in my life to spare them from the pain I’m causing by not doing better and feeling horrible about it. Perhaps it would help if I let them know that they didn’t need to perform “fine” for me? I understand the desire to protect me from the obligation to take care of them and appreciate it. But sometimes it can feel like I’m the only one experiencing anger or grief or pain, though I know I’m not. Feeling so isolated in my emotional response provides no catharsis for it. Compassion and sympathy function on the notion of “fellow feeling.” If you’re just out here, feeling by yourself, you can’t expect any comfort. As always, I think of the moment in the Iliad when Priam and Achilles cry together over dead Hector. Grief (and you can grieve for many things aside from a death) is something explicitly to be shared.” So I guess I’ve shared it here. I can do that. And I can do another thing, which is to tell you I love you. People don’t really say it enough and reserve it too entirely for romantic contexts. It’s weird--it’s not like we are wartime rationing love! And every time anyone says it to me it helps. It’s an affirmation that I am integral in some way to people’s lives which, in a society that so greatly valorizes marriage/partnership and children, is something I can be in doubt about.”

There are some things I like here, though, and that I would now like to reiterate and invite you, my far-flung friends, to do for my 2-year milestone. Never has the notion of “fellow feeling” in times of grief and depression hit harder or been more important than during covid. In a way, the nation (or even world) was forced into much the same position, emotionally and practically, that my cancer put me in. People are isolated, unable to perform “fine” and wondering if other people feel the same way, or even if any of us can take care of each other at all. I am here to tell you that you can. Maybe not immediately but--sooner than you think--you can. Emotional reserves may be low but reaching out to support someone else can actually replenish them. You do not have to feel alone, or to feel, alone.

And for me, for this milestone and for the cancer-related depression that I certainly do have, I’d like to invite you to help me, so that I can do the same for you. I invite you to write something about how this milestone feels for you (either about me or not), how it relates to all the other insane things going on in the world or with you (not about me at all), how you felt on the original day when I shared my stage 4 diagnosis (definitely about me)--really anything that is on your mind or in your heart.

“Oh great,” you may think, “the English PhD has asked us to do homework!”. But no! It's up to you what you do. Write in whatever form you want, however long, even anonymously. And if you do I will write you back! Not with grades or comments, but with something to connect to what you shared. It is a way to create fellow-feeling; to open up, connect, heal. With me, yes, but also as the group of extraordinary people who have gone with me so far on this hard road. It’s a very different proposition to support someone through time-limited treatment with a good outcome than it is to sign on for whatever comes next. You are all, truly, pretty extraordinary.

Anyone who wants to send a note or reflection can email me or drop a file or post in this Google drive folder. Like I said, feel free to share whatever and do it anonymously if you’d rather. You can also askbox me here (better than DMS) or submit a post to this blog. (I'm taking a chance with open DMs for now...we'll see if that needs to change.)

I am grateful for all of you every day, but especially today.

Love, Bex

p.s. The title of this post refers to the cinematic classic "Monty Python and the Holy Grail," a film my high school self and friends loved. They, along with other wonderful folks. gave me a "cancerversary" cake with "Not dead yet, motherfucker!" on it this Sunday. p.p.s. The average life expectancy for people who get this diagnosis is 18 months to 3 years. Hitting 5 years would be extraordinary. Starting Year 3 is a huge deal and I have every intention of being extraordinary. (Never been average at anything in my life...I either succeed spectacularly or fail epically!)

#my life as a cancer patient #cancerversary #stage 4 #mbc #metastatic breast cancer #personal #memories #bex writes #writing invitation #quarantine life

[supernaturallyobsessedchic]

Emergency! Part 3

Summary: A woman comes back from her trip from Asia but isn’t feeling the best. And is rushed to the hospital. Her symptoms are that of the flue, but worse than. The virus spreads throughout the hospital, Jack falls ill collapsing in the break room. Dean falls ill on a rescue, Cas having to rescue the original victim and his partner. The reader, having to sit by and wait and pray for her friends pull through. But turns out the original patient with the virus got better, now her body has the antibodies to fight the virus.

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean x Nurse!Reader

Word Count: 4,262

Warnings: Scary Situations, Language, Mild Angst, Fluff.

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Mobile Masterlist

a/n: I could use the corona virus or COVID-19 but decided to use the virus used in the Emergency! Episode of the same name. The virus being a strain of the Asian flu during a bad outbreak in the late 60’s. Also the drugs and measure mentioned are probably not accurate, I’m not a pharmacist.

a/n2: D.O.N = Director of Nursing, DOA = Dead on Arrival, BP = Blood Pressure, O2 Sat = Oxygen Saturation

~

“Dean,” Cas says, walking into the fire stations garage.

Dean was logging supplies in the squad truck when he heard Cas enter and got his attention.

“What’s up Cas?”

“When you started dating Y/N, when did you know she was the one?”

“What do you mean?”

“I really like Meg, and when she was taking care of me after that accident of mine I found that she and I have a lot in common and I want to know her more?”

“Well, Cas, it’s different for other people. Just ask Meg out. Talk to her, find out stuff about her that she likes, hates, and if you can find yourself still able to love her despite her flaws. Keep it going. Keep taking her out.”

“You make it sound so simple.”

“Nothing in life is simple man.”

Cas nods in agreement.

The alarm sounded in the station.

“Squad 51, someone sick. Respond. 226 south Jasper’s Avenue, cross street South Walker boulevard.”

“Back at it again.” Cas says.

“Let’s hit it.”

Dean getting into his usual spot in the squad, revving the engine to life and heading to the location.

When they arrived, another station had arrived originally.

Dean and Cas gathered their tools and headed into the residence.

“Chuck, what do you got?” Cas asked.

“Kelly McMeyers, 22, her dad said she was fine at breakfast.”

They followed Fireman Chuck through the house to the girl’s bedroom to find her on her bed, sweating, pale and in obvious discomfort and pain.

Dean placed a hand on her head.

“She’s burning up, Cas, get the thermometer.”

Cas did as told handing the thermometer to Dean.

Dean placed in the girls mouth, under her tongue. Cas handing him the blood pressure cuff.

Dean began checking her Blood pressure.

“Get the radio, we need to tell the hospital.” Dean orders.

Cas, pulls out the radio of it’s holster on his belt.

“Rampart, this is rescue 51. Rampart this is rescue five one.” Cas radios in.

 It was a normal slow day at the hospital, y/n having finished her charting, getting reading for her lunch break.

“Rampart this is rescue 51,” she heard Cas’s voice over the radio.  “Rampart this is rescue Five one.”

She picks up the hand piece to the hospital’s radio to respond.

“Go ahead 51.”

“Rampart we have a female, Kelly McMeyers, 22 years of age.” Cas transmits.

 “BP is 129 over 80, O2 Saturation is…”

Dean places a hand over her chest, watching it rise and fall. Counting in his head. But scolding with the low number he came up with.

“Did you pack the pulse Oximeter?”

“I did.” Cas says, handing it to him.

“I got to double check before I give you the wrong number.”

Dean turned on the device, and placing it on her finger.

“Still reading low, O2 Sat, 85.” Dean says.

“O2 sat is 85. Temperature is coming up…”

Dean pulls out the thermometer.”

“105.” He reads.

“Temperature is 105.”

 y/n was shocked she had a temperature that high.

“51, standby, a doctor will be with you shortly.”

“10-4.”

 “I just don’t understand, she was fine at breakfast, it happened so suddenly.” The girl’s father expressed.

“Some of these things do happen rather quickly.”

“Could be the Asian Flu?” Chuck suggests. Playing with the girl’s pet monkey.

“Well, let’s not jump to any conclusions until a doctor can see her.” Cas says.

“Kelly, sweetheart, can you hear me?” Dean asks.

The girl nods groggily.

“She’s really drowsy.” Cas mentions.

“Kelly, are you in any pain at all?” Dean asks.

“My head hurts, my chest hurts too.” She whines.

“She threw up a bit before you got here Winchester.” Chuck mentions.

 “51, this is doctor Singer.”

“Rampart, we have new information, patient is experiencing head and chest pain, she’s drowsy and vomited a few times before we arrived.”

“Alright, start IV, lidocaine, two milligrams. And just in case what she has is contagious keep contact with the patient to an absolute minimum.”

“10-4 Rampart.” Cas says.

“I’ll get the IV going, if you want to get the ambulance here Chuck.”

“Already ahead of you, they should be here by now.”

Sirens are heard in the distance, as if on cue.

“How about that timing?” Cas says.

“Alright, she’s set, lets get her to the hospital.” Dean says.

Just as more paramedics came in, Dean grabbed the equipment as Cas walked out with the patient.

Chuck still petting the monkey.

“I love monkeys, bet he’d be a cute pet to have.” He says.

“Yeah, but they’re not meant to be pets Chuck.”

“Yeah, I know. But, cute little guy, isn’t he?”

The monkey sat on his pole that stood in the room. And the monkey started walking over to Dean, walking on his shoulder, messing with his hat.

“Hey, stop,” he told the monkey while trying to shake him off gently.

The monkey got back on his pole as Dean walked out to the squad.

 At the hospital, Y/N, Doctor Singer assisted in the patient, Kelly McMeyer, as Doctor Singer preformed a spinal tap.

Just as he pulled out the needle, gathering spinal fluid, Doctor Kline walks in.

“What’d you got Bobby?”

“Possible strain of the flu, her symptoms are consistent with that of the Asian flu, but the incubation period is too fast. Her symptoms came up quick, she was fine at breakfast.”

“Do we know where she’s been lately?”

“All over southeast Asia, Kelly and her friends were part of her church’s mission trip in assisting kids in orphanages, and adoption homes. Fixing them up, helping kids get adopted. And her dad took her camping when she got back. Took her to the Black Hills in South Dakota.” y/n explained.

“That opens us up to a whole array of fevers, and of course flus. China is always riddled with noval viruses we’ve never seen nor dealt with. And of course, there’s ones we’ve dealt with her, rocky mountain spotted fever, lymes disease, or even parasitic infections. Fungal infections that could have originated from her camping trip.” Jack explained.

“Did Kelly have any kind of protection on either trip?” Jack asked.

“Her dad made sure she packed, bug spray, tick spray, and they had nets around their camp to prevent nats and other flying insects from getting in the tents.” Y/N says.

“So, in which case, we’re back to, what did she catch when she was in China. Because chances of her getting anything on the camping trip are slim I’m guessing.”

“Her dad was pretty adamant that they were covered for their trip. He didn’t want anyone getting sick.”

Jack nods.

“Let’s get some blood work, see if we can’t find the answer in there.”

“You got it doctor.” y/n says, getting her hands sanitized, and ready to draw some blood.

 “Dean, your shift was done an hour ago, go home!” His father ordered.

“Just finishing up the logs for the day.”

“Cas can finish it up for you, he at least goes home in an hour. Now go.”

“Yes sir, you sure you got this man?” Dean asks.

“Dean, I got it. Go home and rest. See you in two days.”

Dean handed Cas the papers for logging their day, what all happened, their end result. He grabbed the keys to his Impala and drove on home.

He could tell he was exhausted. At a stop light he had to really will himself to stay awake just a few more miles.

But as he got to another stop light, he knew he was too tired to be driving.

Y/N’s apartment wasn’t far. He moved lanes before her street came up and Dean drove to her apartment. Giving her a call to make sure she was either up or home.

“Hey Handsome, how was your day?” she asked.

He could hear the background of the hospital.

“Exhausting. Are you still at work?”

“Yeah, another late one. Why? Are you in the area?” she asked. Sounding concerned.

“I’m really exhausted, and I don’t think I’m gonna make it home. I was thinking on crashing at your place.”

“You can stay there Dean; my key is by my hanging plant. I think your clothes from last time are still there.”

“Thanks baby, where would I be without you?”

“Dead in a ditch because you’ve run yourself ragged, now hurry to my place and get to bed. I’ll home when I can.”

“Love you sweetheart.” He says with a tired smile, pulling into her apartment complex.

“Love you more Winchester, sleep well.” She says.

He parked his car near where she parked. Walking up tiredly up to her apartment he found her key easily.

He headed inside, placing the key back but also locking up behind him as he got himself settled.

She had since gotten a new apartment since the plane crash; sure she was farther away from the hospital, but she was closer to him by several blocks.

He had gotten out of the shower, feeling a little bit better, but he climbed into his side in her bed. Pulling the covers over him, and falling fast asleep once his head hit the pillow.

She had hurried with her charting, her replacement nurse coming in late. But at least she showed up.

She hurried to her car to get on home.

She saw Dean’s car parked next to her spot on the street. She parked her car right behind his.

She quietly entered the apartment. Leaving the lights off she navigated to her room seeing his sleeping form in her bed. Sound asleep.

She made her shower quick and simple, washing off the stress of the day and relaxing enough so she could fall easily asleep.

She climbs into bed beside him. He tossed, turning towards her, wrapping his arms around her.

Poor dude was exhausted. But Dean was no fool, he loved being the little spoon. Maybe too much. But when it was her, he didn’t care too much.

 Days followed, and the original patient began to go downhill. Her fever wasn’t breaking.

Y/N had finished getting Kelly’s vitals, updated her chart. She headed back out to the nurses station when she saw an ambulance dropping off a new patient.

“What do we have?” she asked.

“Fireman, Chuck Shirley. Stricken with a fever, 104 temp, slightly elevated BP.” One of the paramedics informed.

“He was fine at lunch time.” His wife said behind the paramedics.

“Are you his wife?” Y/N asked.

“I am, my name’s Becky.”

“Okay, I’ll escort you to the waiting room. I’ll keep you informed of your husbands situation.” y/n told her.

Becky nodded, and she was lead to the waiting room. Y/N walked back into one of the exam rooms.

Hours passed as the doctors looked over Chuck, they learned one thing in common.

He responded to Kelly McMeyers.

“I want everyone who responded to get checked out. Clearly we are up against something contagious.” Jack orders.

“I’ll get right on it.” y/n says.

 As the day wore on, Y/N had called all the stations that responded, the ambulance and even called up her boyfriend personally.

“Afternoon beautiful.” Dean answers.

“Hey babe, you responded on the Kelly McMeyers right?”

“I did, me and Cas both, why?”

“Chuck Shirley is sick with the same symptoms as Kelly, and Dr. Kline has ordered you two to come in and get checked out.”

“Is it really that bad?”

“Dean, Chuck looked bad. Come in, please.” She practically whined.

“Okay, I will. Don’t worry sweetheart. I have to come down for supplies anyway, I’ll bring Cas along.”

“Thank you. See you soon.”

Just as Dean and Cas left the hospital after giving their blood samples to be checked for any virus or uprising in white blood cell count. Questions rose to how and where the original patient got sick.

“Whatever this Kelly chick has must be bad.” Dean says as he drove back to the station.

“Must be, if she didn’t get while camping then where?” Cas asks.

For a beat there was a pause.

“The same place where she got her pet monkey.” Cas says.

“You really think that monkey is the carrier?” Dean asks, unsure.

“Think about it Dean. It’s always animals in other countries that carry all these scary viruses. Swine flu came from pigs. Avian flu came from birds. The Asian flu came from, well, Asia but it was ducks. What if, this monkey one of those viruses and was somehow able to transmit it overseas?” Cas explained.

“You should really be a doctor something, damn Cas.” Dean says, impressed with the information Cas was able to share.

“Also think of the movie Outbreak.”

“Dude, that wasn’t even a real virus.”

“No, but it was a real situation that can really happen. It’s the worst case scenario. But it was a monkey carrying a mutated version of the virus.”

“I think you’re onto something Cas.” Dean says, digging around in his pockets.

“Here, call my girlfriend, tell her what you told me.”

“Okay.” Cas says.

 “Hello?”

“Y/N, it’s Cas, you got a minute?”

“How’s Dean?” she asked concerned right away.

“Oh, he’s fine, we were just talking about the victims. She brought home a pet monkey from China. And Chuck was playing with it.”

“That is actually something Cas, thanks. Is there anything else we need to know?”

“Not really, but just for the fact that this monkey might carry a virus that could kill Kelly and our friend.”

“And you’re spot on, on that. I’ll tell Jack and Bobby. Thanks Cas.”

 At the hospital, the two doctors were at the nurses station when Cas called. Their attention on her when she seemed surprised with the information he given her.

“Cas of squad 51 just told me Kelly brought home a pet monkey from China. And that Chuck played with it.”

“That’s something, Bobby, get someone to go with Kelly’s dad back to his house. Get the monkey and bring the little guy in.”

“You got it Jack.”

 Cas had handed Dean his phone back.

“You know, Cas,” he says.

Cas doesn’t say anything but has his attention.

“I kind of played with the monkey too.”

 The next following day, Kelly was slowly getting better. But Chuck was taking a turn for the worse. His fever wasn’t breaking.

Jack goes into Kelly’s room to talk to her about her monkey.

A nurse was already in the room taking care of her.

“Abaddon why aren’t you wearing your mask?”

“Oh, sorry Doctor its just—”

“No excuses, you’re taking an unnecessary risk. Not only would you be putting your life at risk, you’re putting everyone else’s lives at risk as well.”

With that she put her mask over her mouth and nose.

“Kelly,” Jack says.

She opened her eyes slowly giving the doctor his attention.

“We got your pet down in the lab. Now, was he ever sick when you had him?”

“Yes, just after I bought him. He had a bad cold, and threw up a bit too.”

“Well in order to help the fireman, and you as well, we may have to put him down so we can perform an autopsy.”

“No, you can’t!” she cried. “I don’t know what I’d do without Oreo!”

“Kelly, it’s the only chance we have at saving lives.”

The tears that built up in the girls eyes fell. Jack took his gloved finger by her cheek, brushing away the tears that fell.

“If you’re right about that,” she swallows thickly. “Then you can take Oreo.”

“Could help you too Kelly.” Abaddon says.

“I know.”

Jack gave a sad smile through his mask.

He doffed off his PPE by the door and left her room to give the go ahead.

 “Dean, we have a group of kids from Jefferson Elementary School to come in for a tour, can you help Gabe clean up the garage real quick.”

“Dad, I’m really exhausted, can you get Cas to do it?”

“It’s not like you to complain, come on now. He’s busy with the logs, come on it won’t take long.”

The alarm sounded.

“Never mind.” John says.

“Station 51, medical emergency. At the top of the Wells Fargo bank at 5535 Woodland Boulevard. Cross street Jackson Avenue.”

The men and women at station 51 jumped into action.

 At the location they climbed up the stairs after they reached the max floor the elevator would allow to go.

“What happened?” John asked one of the men working on the roof.

“Jimmy was over the edge cleaning the windows and he let out a yell, and I saw him collapse. I tried getting him on this thing but it’s jammed.”

“We’ll get him, we’ll hoist one of my paramedics down to get a line on him and we’ll bring him up.” John assured.

“I’ll go.” Dean says.

“Why don’t we just swing the lift through a window?” Cas asks.

“There wouldn’t be a safe way to do it. Just, get me down to him. Drop a line for him and he’ll be up here before you can say Bobs your uncle.” Dean says.

“Just be careful man.” Cas says.

“I will dude.”

Dean has the ropes around him, his harness, Gabe, Michael and Raphael anchored his rope as they helped lower him down.

“Okay, more slack!” Dean shouts as he got closer to the victim.

He got safely on to the lift and began to work the rope around the victim so they could lift him up.

But Dean’s vision began to spin. His hands came up to hold the support of the lift.

“Dean, you okay!?” Cas shouts from the ledge.

“Yeah!”

Dean hurries to get the rope around the victim and tries to work on tying the knot.

His dizziness got worse, and worse. Just as he was about to ask for help, Dean passes out.

His body falling off of the lift, and hangs by his harness off of the ledge.

“Try lifting him up a bit!” Cas ordered.

The three brothers tried pulling the rope slightly.

Cas could see Dean wasn’t getting any higher.

“No, stop, he’s tangled. I’m gonna have to head down there.” Cas says.

He heads over to Charlie who handed him some rope, getting the lopes around him, and working his harness on.

Cas hurries over the ledge.

Gabe, Michael, and Raphael tied Dean’s rope to hold him steady as they lowered Cas down to the lift.

“More slack!” Cas ordered as he got closer.  

Cas removed his work gloves to check the victims pulse.

“He’s in full cardiac arrest!” Cas shouts out, communicating.

Cas finishes what Dean had going. Connecting the loops around the victims arms and legs making a makeshift harness.

“Okay, lift him up!” Cas calls out.

The victim slowly rising as Gab, Michael and Raphael pulled the rope lifting the victim up.

“Dean, can you hear me man?” Cas asked, trying to lift Dean onto the lift.

He didn’t respond. He was out cold.

Cas furrowed his brow as he grew concerned for his friend.

“Okay, lift him up!” Cas ordered.

Cas seen the original victim made it over the ledge safely. And Dean began to slowly rise up to the top.

Once everyone was safely up, they got Cas up as well.

Cas helped with the cardiac victim while Charlie and the others assisted with Dean.

 Y/N sat at the nurses station charting her days work about ready to head home when an ambulance and squad approached the door.

She quickly typed up her report, saving it and sending it to her Director, she went to assist the paramedics.

Her heart dropped when she saw one of the patients being wheeled in.

“Dean.”

“Patient one was DOA, heart attack. Dean has a fever of 104.” Cas says.

“Okay, there’s an exam room open, lets get him in there. I’ll page Dr. Singer.”

“Where’s Jack?” Cas asked.

“He’s sick too. He was about to treat Kelly and Chuck when he collapsed. His fever is 103 and climbing.”

“How is Chuck?”

“Not doing well. Let’s focus on Dean please.” Y/N said, keeping the tears of fear at bay.

 Dean was all settled in a room later that night.

“Y/N.” Bobby says as he entered Dean’s room.

“Dr. Singer.”

“Your director doesn’t want you treating him. It’s against ethics.”

“I know. I’m off the clock.”

“Then what are you still doing here?”

“Oh, forgive me for staying by my boyfriend’s side.”

“Y/N, you’re D.O.N is on the other side of the this door. Relax.” He whispered.

“Bobby, I can’t think straight right now. I want to stay by his side, if that’s alright.”

“You can’t just stop everything because he’s sick. The CDC got back to us on the virus, you know this. It’s a strain of the Asian flu, a newer mutated strain. We have a drug we can use.”

She sighs, rubbing her face hard, trying to not get frustrated with herself.

“I know. I just want to know he’s going to be okay is all.”

“You love him. I know. But you have to still live life. Because that don’t stop. You got to keep going kid.”

She nods. “I’m guessing I can’t stay with him due to isolation protocol.”

“You got it. but once he’s better, you can.” She nods again.

“Please, keep me in the loop with him.”

“I’m sure Meg will. Cas was already on her case about him.”

She chuckles with a nod.

“Go home and rest. He’ll still be here tomorrow.”

She nods, leaving with a slump in her shoulders. Heading to her car. Driving quietly home.

It wasn’t until she got out of her shower, and laid in her empty bed did she let her walls come crumbling down.

A sob escaped from her, shaking her to her core.

“God, Dean. Please be okay.” She sobbed.

 The next day, she heads into work trying to focus on her patients.

She learned from one of the over night nurses that Chuck passed away.

Her anxiety already being high enough with her boyfriend being sick with the same virus, but the same virus that killed a fireman.

She headed up to Dean’s room where Meg walked out. Sweating after being in her PPE for some period of time.

“How is he?” she asks.

“Not good. His fever is not even breaking. He had the first 100 Milligrams of Idoxuridine.”

“Has it been two hours?”

“Close, it’s been about an hour and fifty minutes since last dose.”

“Give him another dose of it. Same for Jack if he’s not getting better.”

“Sure thing, I’m sure Bobby will understand.”

Y/N nodded as Meg went back inside to give Dean another dose of the drug.

Y/N headed back to the nurses station to chart her first half of the shift when her D.O.N approached the desk.

“Y/N, I was told you were by Dean’s room yet again. This time on the clock.”

“Sorry Jody, I just—”

“It’s okay, really. Bobby can be a hard ass sometimes, and I know I can be too. But my husband gets sick really easily. And I’d do the same thing you’re doing.” She says.

“Thank you…” she hesitates.

“I have your replacement coming in so you can see him and be with him. Once Donna gets here, go to him.”

“Thank you, thank you.” She says, as tears rise to the surface.

“It’s not a problem.” Jody smiles.

 Days pass as the doctors and nursing staff cared for Dean and Jack for the virus.

Y/N stayed day and night, her D.O.N giving her the week off on FMLA.

She had lost track of the days when she finally allowed herself to sleep.

Kelly was fully recovered and the doctors and nursing staff encouraged her to donate some blood so they can use her antibodies in her blood to donate to Dean and Jack so they have a fighting chance.

His fever finally broke, he was getting better. She could close her eyes and he’d still be there.

She woke that night to a hand on her head, playing with her hair.

She stirred awake to find Dean awake and well.

“Hey.” She says tiredly.

“Hey.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Like I’ve been hit by a truck.” He answers. “Babe, did you stay here all day?”

“Dean, it’s been a week. You’ve been out for a week.”

“Damn…but still, you’ve been here all week?”

“Yes. You scared me.” She says. Taking his hand and placing it on her cheek.

His thumb brushing against her cheekbone. Catching a tear that fell.

“Well I’m sorry for scaring you. But you’re worrying me, did you take care of yourself while you were here?”

“Not really. Haven’t been hungry. I’m not sick or anything.”

“I know, you’ve told me that you’ll get this way. Either in a good way, like an innocent way of binging your favorite show and forgot to eat. Or in a bad way, like this.”

“Let me get Meg and tell her you’re awake.”

Just as she says that, Meg comes walking in.

“Jack’s awake…oh Dean’s awake too.” She says.

“Yeah, he is.” Y/N Says tiredly.

“I’ll get Dr. Singer so we can see when you can go home. And get Y/N to a bed, she hasn’t slept much since she stayed here.”

“Really, not eating or sleeping.”

“She was worked up. who could blame her?” Meg asked.

“True.”

Meg left the room to get Bobby.

Dean not saying a word, pulls Y/N’s arm guiding her in the bed with him.

She happily got in, curling into his side.

He felt a residual tremble shudder through her body.

“Shh, I’m here baby. I’m not going anywhere.” He says.

Not even a tiny virus would tear up this team.

~

A/N: Did you enjoy? How are you liking it so far? Favorites yet? Feedback is fuel and much appreciated. :3

~

Dean Girls:

@pandazombie69​, @luci-in-trenchcoats​, @supernatural-jackles​, @becs-bunker​, @winchesters-favorite-girl​, @jayankles​, @jeaniespiehs20​, @mlovesstories​, @akshi8278​, @flamencodiva​, @anotherspnfanfic​, @megzdoodle​, @lyarr24​

~

Copying and reposting someone else’s content is plagiarism and illegal. This work is property of supernaturallyobsessedchic. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher. An electronic reference link to the original posted work may be provided for purposes of promotion or assistance of publication by the readers discretion, if proper credits are given to the author in the re-post. 3/23/2021

#spn #supernatural #spn au #firefighter!au #firefighter!dean x nurse!reader #dean x reader #firefighter!Dean x Reader #dean x reader fic #firefighter!dean x reader fic #firefighter!dean x nurse!reader fic #spn fan fic #spnfanfic #spn fanfic #supernatural fan fic #supernatural fanfic #supernaturalfanfic #spn fan fiction #spn fanfiction #spnfanfiction #supernatural fan fiction #supernatural fanfiction #supernaturalfanfiction #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fic #dean winchester x reader fic #emergency!

[betweentheracks]

Updates//Recent Inactivity

Hello all! This is me finally taking some time to sit down and offer up a rundown on how life is currently going as a means of explaining my inactivity. This is a personal post that is guaranteed to be both rambling and emotional so if that is not your cup of tea, I understand and happily advise you just skip over this post as it is not relevant to the actual content this blog was intended for.

EDITED: After reading this back I now realize this is really just me spilling the tea on my own life and is laughably dishy in details which is extremely not my usual stance on my personal privacy. But idk, it was cathartic so I'm leaving it as is despite the urge to redact 70% of what I say.

I'll start with the good news that I am officially out of lockdown and have remained COVID-19 free since my return home from the hospital. This also means my son finally was allowed to come home to me which is dazzling and exciting and also a little terrible too. He's at a precocious age where tantrums are the cool way to communicate and having been gone for so long completely thrashing his established routine has caused friction. He came home and his parent was not the same as when he left; is much weaker and less energetic than before, paler and shaky - but also there's the addition of my best friend having moved in to assist and take care of me/him while we all do our best to muddle through.

The readjustment has been rough and a lot of this week has made me incredibly thankful to have practically zero memory of how I was as a child. There have been injuries: I have been whacked in the face with the metal cover for a floor vent while dozing on the sofa instead of paying rapt attention to whatever silliness he was showing off to me, there was his complete dismissal of me asking him to stay back and away from the hot oven as I pulled lunch from it's fiery jaws only to then be faced with a toddler quickly approaching with his hand raised to touch so I naturally made a move to block him and in the process I let go of the oven door which slammed upward and clamped my arm tightly between it and the inside cavern of the oven while it was set to a roasty 400 degrees Fahrenheit - earning me a mangled arm with burns of varying degrees, and then we also had that fit where it seemed like a much more grand idea to scale the babygate cordoning the stairs and I had to rush up them to stop him from tumbling face first down two flights and of course did the falling all on my own and did it backwards then slammed painfully into the wall of the landing. This all happened within a 48hr time frame and makes me wonder why I am so catastrophically inclined.

I have bruises that range the majority of my spine courtesy of the wall and stairs, two minor first degree burns on my forearm that are in the shape of an equals and quite large despite the lack of actual pain I feel from them, and the underside of my forearm was instantly blistered then popped then melted down into a horrid glob of skin mush and sticky red-orange and is a second degree burn that I have been assured is no real cause for concern as long as I tend it with care. In all, I managed to escape my momjuries relatively unscathed and with a child that was scared senseless at having hurt his momma and is quick to listen and never stops cuddling me in the time since. Here's hoping he isn't significantly traumatized from this since exactly none of this is especially his fault and is due to my clumsy, accident-prone status in life.

So yes, The Toddler has returned home to me and after some happenings we have settled and are happy. However, his blast from the past father has suddenly just decided to reemerge after more than a year of radio silence and static and has slapped me with a custody petition. Hooray. While I have no worries on this matter due to my mother working for one of the top custody lawyers in the state and snagging him as my representation, and the utter lack of competency on my estranged baby daddy's end clearly being displayed in literally anything and everything the idiot does/says, I do have to now go through the overhaul of a custody case and that is just so weak and exhaustive. Not to mention the basis of his claims that I am not fit to raise a child are founded in my health concerns and the crazy work schedule I keep; ironically, my health is making it so that I have much less insane hours and makes this fairly moot but to each their own I guess. Also worth noting on this matter is that he only did this now because he was recently placed under penalty for child support back pay and nothing in this world matters to him like his money and this is his special way of getting one over on me for tampering with his meager earnings. (He's a wannabe musician - the soundcloud rapper sort, just so we are all on the same page here). If I thought for even a second this was a genuine desire to be an active and stable parent I would be a lot less pressed to act in favor of making it legally binding that he can only see him under a supervisory condition and share time evenly, but it just is not believable in the slightest.

So the thing is - my health is actually quite dismal presently. I'm due in for open heart surgery on the 8th of April and until then I have been doing my utmost to mind all the nagging I get from doctors, PT specialists, the surgeons that will be slicing and dicing me, and my in-family medical practitioner that sometimes remembers he is also my brother and not just an MD. But like, you guys, this surgery is terrifying and technically is two surgeries rolled into one. They'll be cracking my chest open and then stopping my heart while they lift it from where it sits sweetly unhinged and lopsided in my body and very finely shave away some of the excess muscle that has built up around the wall of my heart as well as some unfriendly scar tissue that has lingered since my last surgery years ago. Granted there is no accidental slip that nicks my ugly gargantuan heart and renders me as good as dead, once this first part is finished the other surgeon will need to be deft and very quick to place this ventricular assisting piece in the valve that has all but given up on functioning altogether and do so in the time remaining before the time limit for my heart being essentially unplugged from by body is up, which would also feasibly mean my death. Lots of exciting and terrible sounding consequences, am I right?

Well let's bear it in mind that I am just below 30 in age and therefore not duly experienced in the realm of facing down my own mortality via making all necessary legal arrangements and managing my affairs and assets so that, in event of my untimely death, the custody case still doesn't stand a chance of snatching my son away to the sad misfortune of being raised by a man that has stated openly he only has interest in his kids so far as what they can do for him/get for him in terms of benefit and that he would be unwilling to be hypocritical and never deter his children from drugs and a lifestyle of extremely questionable moral integrity and hygiene alike. Eugh. But I also have had to make sure there is a DNR in place just in case things go wrong during the operation, my will has also been finalized and notarized, all my savings and financial/material assets have been squared away to come into my child's inheritance when he is of age and, most importantly, a document that states clear and direct instructions for him to be placed in care of my mother or, if she is unwilling or incapable, he will be under custodial order and guardianship of my best friend whom he has always viewed as a pseudo-dad anyway. Legally binding and even in light of the paternity petition this document supersedes parental right by way of the provided evidence I have submitted to prove a lack of parental credibility. That's right, I spent days lowkey stalking and sleuthing about to capture what I needed to show this man for what he actually is and I have precisely zero guilt or shame for doing it; this is my child on the line and that means momma doesn't have to play by the rules of snitches getting stitches or whatever other scary street rules he tosses at me as idle threats. (He's done this routinely for all the years I have known him, and it is somehow both pathetic and hilarious because he knows for a fact that, if I wanted, I could throttle him in less time than it would take for him to form a rational thought between his drug soaked braincells - I was also a person of less than savory character not too long ago and can handle myself very well. But I digress because I am losing my track of thought.

After the surgery I will have so damn much PT and rehab, all of which will be specific to varying parts of my body that will need to be reworked and strengthened. Weeks, months of it really. This surgery is major and hits heavy enough that I will be in the hospital for at least 10-14 days just recovering from it without taking into consideration any number of complications that could pop up. Hell, if they get in there and find a situation worse than they currently have an understanding of in the limited capacity of cardiology tech can provide of such a gnarled beastly heart and realize they can't really do anything with it after all, I'll be added to the transplant list. I think this is more daunting to consider than the surgery, honestly.

In that way that doctors have about them, I was "comforted" by being informed that this was an inevitability and I would have been faced with this in a matter of years - less than a handful actually - but the way COVID-19 chewed through me sped it up. I'm sure my years of substance issues were also very helpful in this endeavor, but either way I still am unsure whether I feel better knowing this or not? Mostly I think I feel conflicted and hopeful tempered with the caution of life being super shady in the ways it has often brought me to the doorsteps of dying in situations that seem like odd chance. I also am gifted with being so capable in jinxing myself that I brought myself to COVID-19 ("The way life is going I'll probably square up with Rona next week or some bullshit." Positive test flagged within the following week) and also into labor ("Watch me go into labor on Labor Day since that would be the sort of universal pun that would strike my bad penny having ass." Indeed hatched my youngling on Labor Day of that year) by saying some things within the scope of my bad humor that instantly manifested as reality so I'm not taking any risks here lol.

The gist is that life is really stirring up the winds over here and so I haven't been online and posting anything that would make my blog valid in a fat minute. I do apologize for this and also for the fact that this post took me nearly a week to type up, but when things calm a little I will be back in full. For the time being I will be sporadic and do what I can when I can!

Thanks to anyone that read this mess all the way here! And a big thank you to all of you still supporting me!

#racks chats #entirely too long and too personal

[hydroponicjj]

pinky promise

pairing: jj maybank x reader

word count: 3.1k (i’ve never written anything this long before lmao)

warnings: swearing

summary: your birthday takes place over quarantine and because you can’t have an actual birthday party, the pogues host a netflix party for you but an unexpected guest joins which ruins the mood. jj decides to cheer you up from a distance.

a/n: hello!! i know i’ve been a little m.i.a. but, i promise that i’m back. send me some outer banks requests and i’ll be happy to do them (no smut pls) also, if you’ve sent a request recently, i’m working on em :) gif credit goes to hvitstark!!!

y/n/n “your nickname”

                      「 ₊˚.༄ 」

When summer first began, you as well as the rest of the pogues were overwhelmed with excitement. You didn't have to do homework, get stressed with school, take exams. Nothing.

The plans weren't set in stone but all of you had a general idea of what you’d do from day to day. From surfing to eating at The Wreck, there was nothing that could stop you and your friends from having the best summer ever.

All of you had seen news articles, talking about a deadly virus entering the United States. It first appeared in Washington, then slowly started to spread around the vicinity. But no one in the Outer Banks of North Carolina was concerned.

So, the beginning of summer break started with absolutely no delay.

After the first couple of weeks of the virus spreading across the country, slowly but surely, you watched as people started to get worried. It got to the point were you mother was cautioning you before going to hang out with the rest of the pogues.

“I pinky promise that I’ll be safe!” You’d tease before going outside and hopping into John B’s Volkswagen.

When you hopped into the back of the van, you noticed the disappointed looks on everyone’s faces while Pope was rambling (like he usually does).

“I really think that we should start to prepare because I think that this virus is very similar to the Black Death.” He finished, taking a deep breath.

“What’s up?” You greeted, raised eyebrows in confusion.

Pope smiled enthusiastically and gave you a warm welcome while the others groaned like a walker from The Walking Dead.

“What are you babbling on about today, Mr.Heyward?” You questioned.

“He literally won’t shut up about this stupid virus!” Kiara answered for him, resting her head on the window as she sat in the front seat.

“Neither will my mom. She’s all worked about this and telling me to ‘be safe’ before leaving the house.” You explained.

“It’s not like we know anyone that’s sick.” John B shrugged, starting the van.

Seconds later, JJ started to have a coughing attack. He literally couldn’t stop, even after he had multiple sips of water.

Both you and Pope moved to the corner farthest away from him, you were laughing because you knew JJ and his personality while Pope was terrified.

“Holy shit, he has it.” He whispered in your ear, eyes as big as a Watermelon.

“He’s about to cough up a lung.” Kie commented, turning around to see the blonde flopping around like a fish.

After a few more seconds, JJ recovered from his coughing attack and sat up, a huge smile plastered on his face.

“Not funny!” Pope screamed, kicking the bottom of his foot.

“You should have seen your face, it was priceless.” He chuckled.

You crawled over to JJ and rested your head in his lap, arms crossed over your stomach as you cackled, “Oh my gosh, that was hilarious.” You raised your hand and gave him a high five, intertwining for fingers and bringing it back down to your chest.

“I only did it because Pope needs a reality check. In a couple weeks everything will be fine.” He sighed, using his other hand to take the lighter out of his pocket and light the blunt between his teeth.

Before he could, you held out your left hand which was your way of asking him to place the items in your palm because no one was interested in getting a contact high at 2 pm.

Usually the rest of the pogues would snatch it from him but you were different. You didn’t feel comfortable being rough with him because you knew about his life at home and you didn’t want to set him off.

That was one of the many things that JJ appreciated about you. You were gentle with him and always took your time, not wanting to him to feel rushed. So, he always complied when you asked.

“Fuck it, I’m taking all the toilet paper.” Pope commented out of context, causing everyone to laugh.

                      「 ₊˚.༄ 」

Fast forward one week later and your entire life has flipped upside down.

Covid-19 shut down absolutely everything. Kie and her family were forced to close down The Wreck because they couldn't take the risk of hurting any customers or members of the staff.

All of your friends were separated, except for JJ and John B because they quarantined together, not wanting to be alone during this time.

To be honest, you missed everyone, especially JJ because the two of you always gravitated towards each other so it was pretty hard to be separate from him.

To stay connected with each other, you all texted in the shared group chat and had group facetime’s and netflix parties almost every single night.

John B insisted on inviting Sarah and you didn’t know how to feel about it. Sarah and Kie did squash their beef but, she told you all of the things that happened and it really rubbed you the wrong way. But, you wanted John B to be happy, no matter who it was with.

“Holy shit, y/n/n your birthday is in 2 days!” JJ noticed while the two of you were on facetime. John B was busy talking to Sarah so, he called you to pass the time.

“Yeah.” You replied, unenthusiasticlly.

“I know it sucks that we’re in quarantine but, I promise we’ll have a group facetime and you can pick the movie.” He smiled, you didn’t even have to elaborate on why you were sad because he knew you that well.

“Wait for real?” You laughed.

Listen, everyone has different taste when it comes to movies so, every time that you’re doing a netflix party, it’s really hard to decide on a movie that all of the pogues can enjoy.

“Okay, now I’m excited. This is going to be so fun!” You screeched, clapping your hands together.

“Shit, John B’s calling me. I’ve gotta go but, keep that same enthusiasm, okay?” He replied, smiling into the camera.

“Pinky promise.” You gave him the biggest grin known to man before hanging up.

                      「 ₊˚.༄ 」

Exactly two days later, you woke up to your mom towering over you with a cake in her hands, “Happy 17th birthday, y/n/n!” She took JJ’s lighter that was sitting on your nightstand and lit the ‘17’ on the cake.

“Woah!” You said, rubbing your eyes. It was still pretty early in the morning and you couldn’t fully comprehend what was going on.

“Thank you so much.” You sat up in your bed, making room for your mother to sit.

“Make a wish.” She encouraged, taking out her phone to capture the moment.

“I wish that I have the best day ever, despite not being about to see my friends.” and with that, you blew out the candles, smiling up at your mom.

“Awe were you recording that?” You smiled, covering your face.

“I was gonna send it to your friends,” She paused, “Speaking of them, are you gonna uh... party on neflix tonight?” She squinted.

You chuckled, your mom really wasn’t as aquatinted with technology as other parents, “Yeah, the 5 of us are gonna watch a movie on facetime. I promise to keep it down.”

“Thank you. I’m gonna go start on breakfast. I’ll call you when it’s finished.” She left your room, leaving the door cracked slightly.

After a few seconds of staring off into space, you checked your phone like you always do when you wake up and your phone was filled with notifications.

Your smiled from ear to ear. Unlike the average kook, you weren’t very popular but that didn’t matter because you had 4 of the best people on planet earth as your best friends.

The first thing that you checked was Instagram. You tapped through the stories that you were tagged in and were met with some of the best memories that were caught on camera.

From the time you accidentally set off the sprinklers at The Wreck, getting all of the customers wet as they were leaving to the time that you got stuck at the top of the monkey bars at your old elementary school and JJ had to come and save you.

You almost started crying because you hadn’t been apart from any of your friends for more that 12 hours and even though it’s only been a week, it felt like forvever.

Before you responded to the countless amount of texts from your aunts and uncles, you texted the group chat and gushed to them about how thankful you were that they all posted something in honor of your birthday.

They all politely told you to and I quote, “shut the fuck up.” because it was a given that they’d praise you for your special day.

You rolled your eyes with a smile on your face and threw your phone on the charger, heading to the kitchen to eat breakfast with your mother.

                      「 ₊˚.༄ 」

The sound of your phone ringing tore you away from the piece of cake that you were chewing.

“And the guest of honor has arrived!” John B gushed, JJ was sitting next to him and it looked like they were on the couch.

“Get any presents?” Kie asked, positioning her phone upwards so that she could be seen.

“Nah, unless you count cake.” You chuckled, showing them the piece that you were currently devouring.

“That looks so good.” Pope commented, he was staring into the camera, hypnotized by the sweet treat that you had just showcased.

“Snap out of it!” JJ started clapping his hands in the camera causing Pope to fidget slightly taking his face out of the camera.

You spent the first 30 minutes of the facetime call catching up about the stupid quarantine habits that you all picked up. 

Kiara had given herself a few dolphin stick & pokes, Pope had started online shopping, like a lot. He had at least 30 new t-shirts in his closet. John B calls Sarah while JJ spends most of his time talking to you.

“Wait, wait, wait guys,” You paused, trying to get their attention because they were all screaming at each other, “Are y’all ready to watch the movie?” You questioned, opening a new tab on your computer.

“Yeah, yeah. Wait a second.” John B put himself on paused, you could hear JJ sigh because he does that at least once every time that you all are on a group call.

After a few seconds, you heard everyone's phone ding as well as your own. You all had gotten a group e-mail to join a netflix party. At first you were confused because JJ said that he talked to everyone and they agreed to letting you chose the movie.

A few more seconds passed and you saw another square begin to connect to the facetime call. It was a number that no one recognized so, everyone was pretty stunned (except for john b).

The mystery person finally connected and it was revealed to be Sarah Cameron. 

You looked at everyone's little square and saw how wide their eyes were. JJ seemed furious but, he didn’t want to make a scene because after all, it was still your birthday.

Kie and Pope looked shocked that John B would add her without asking if you were okay with it first.

“Hey guys! Happy birthday, y/n.” Sarah greeted, smiling.

“Thank you.” You croaked back a response, going on your computer and opening the e-mail that was sent, clicking the netflix party link.

After taking a second to load, you saw that you were watching the 4th season of Riverdale. (yikes)

You rolled your eyes, praying that it went unnoticed.

“Is this what you wanted to watch, y/n? I thought you hated Riverdale?” Pope asked, still a little confused on the whole situation.

“Nope.” You stated dryly, shrugging you shoulders and falling back onto your bed.

“Oh, it was my idea.” Sarah chimed in, her bubble got bigger because she had said something, “You don’t mind, right y/n/n?”

“I kind of wanted to watch Back to the Future.” You revealed.

At this point, everyone was shocked, even you. You didn’t hate Sarah, she was currently being really nice but you wanted to spend your birthday talking to your best friends and she didn’t fit into that category yet.

“I don’t really like that movie.” John B commented, earning a slap on the back of the head from JJ.

“Actually,” You paused, contemplating if you even wanted to continue the sentence. You had two options, make a scene or leave peacefully.

“I’m not feeling to well. I think I’m going to go but, have fun watching Riverdale.” Before anyone could protest, you hung up.

Option two it is.

“Fuck birthday’s.” You concluded, turning off your light. You didn’t have the energy to argue with anyone so, you decided to go to bed and deal with it in the morning.

JJ muted the phone so that no one else could hear the conversation that was about to ensue, “Dude, what the fuck?!” He yelled at John B, who was very confused.

“You invited the girl you’ve been mackin’ on for a month to y/n’s birthday party. Did you even ask her?” He stood up, towering over his friend.

“Woah, woah, calm down. I didn’t think that she’d care.” He defended himself.

Pope and Kie were texting you while Sarah was too busy watching the cringe unfold on Riverdale that they didn’t notice that John B and JJ were arguing.

“All she wanted was a good birthday and you fucking ruined it.” He accused, poking at his chest.

“I didn’t ruin it. She was tired and had to go!”

“It’s literally 9:30 pm. You think she’d go to bed this early? We’re in quarantine! Everyone stays up till like, 5!”

The look on JJ’s face conveyed that he was seconds away from punching John B in the face but he had to remember that you wouldn’t want them fighting because of you.

The blonde took a deep breath that lasted at least 5 minutes, “I need to go check on her.” He stated, going into the guest room that he was currently residing in and grabbed a big basket but with how fast he was walking, it’d be impossible to make out the contents inside.

“You can’t go see her, we’re in quarantine.” John B protested but JJ didn’t seem to care.

                      「 ₊˚.༄ 」

The sun started peaking through your window at around 6 am. The heat of the sun beamed on your face, causing you to wake up earlier that you anticipated.

Groaning, you trudged to the one and only bathroom in your house, thankful that your mom was off to work. She works for Mr.Heyward and they’re currently trying to deliver supplies to as many people as possible.

After getting ready for the day in the restroom, you headed towards the kitchen. In your peripheral vision, you saw a big basket sitting on your front porch.

Peaking your interest, you opened your front door and grabbed the basket with two hands. It wasn’t that heavy but it appeared to be filled to the brim.

Perched on the very top of the basket was a ripped sheet of blank paper covered with medium sized writing. The penmanship was sloppy and certain words had been written over and over again, most likely because the marker was running out of ink.

Based on the lack of punctuation, you already knew who hand delivered this package.

On the inside was 3 of JJ’s shirts (without the sleeves ofc), a half empty bottle of cologne that he’d only wear on special occasions, a torn 2 dollar bill, and a hydroponic blunt.

If any other pogue was receiving this as a gift, they’d probably be really disappointed but, not you. You knew that JJ wasn’t well acquainted with showing and or receiving love so, this was a huge gesture.

Running back into your house, you grabbed your phone, ignoring all of the apology texts from John B, you facetimed JJ.

After a few seconds of it ringing, he answered, “What time is it?” He groaned.

“When did you deliver this?” You asked, ignoring his question.

“What are you talking about?” He didn’t falter, standing his ground.

“Don’t play dumb with me, JJ. What time did you put this on my doorstep?” You persisted, showing the poorly wrapped package that rested on your dining table.

“I genuinely don’t know what you’re talking about.” He chuckled, scratching the back of his head.

You squinted your eyes into the camera and waited a few seconds and sure enough, he creaked, “Fine, fine! I may or may not have decided to play mail man last night.”

“What the heck-?” You paused, attempting to take in what he had just said, “Wait, why?”

“Well, after Sarah crashed your birthday party, I thought you might want to wake up to something, uh, nice.” He grinned, awkwardly.

“You should’ve called me! I would’ve come outside to see you.” You replied, disappointed. He was mere feet away from you last night and you weren’t aware.

“Social distancing, y/n.” He teased. We all know that JJ is the pogue that’s most likely to accidentally break one of the rules during quarantine.

“JJ,” You took a deep breath, “Why did you all of this. I mean, it’s such an amazing birthday gift. A blunt and a 2 dollar bill, what more could a girl ask for?”

“IT’S BECAUSE HE LOOOOVES YOU!!” You heard John B scream from farther into the house.

JJ dropped the phone on the bed and put himself on mute, you shook your head, knowing he was most likely scolding John B.

“I’m sorry, he’s been spending to much time with Sarah.” He returned, “Also, I stole that bill from Kie, don’t tell her though.”

“I really really really miss you, JJ.” You sighed, frowning.

“I really really really miss you, y/n.” He mocked, of course he could not be 100% serious, even when he wanted too.

“Can you promise me something?”

He raised his eyebrows, face plastered with curiousness, “Uhhh, maybe.” He chuckled.

“Promise me that you’ll ask me out once quarantine is over?” You deadpanned. It was clear that it caught him by surprise because his face wasn’t covered with confusion anymore but shear terror instead.

“W-What was that John B???!!! You fell in the toilet! Awe shit, y/n, I’ve gotta go.” He replied, hanging up the phone.

Usually, you’d be a little offended but, you knew he was just messing around with you, especially because he was so used to making the first move when it came to getting girls.

Your phone was on silent so, you didn’t notice it a first but you had a new text message from JJ.

“pinky promise.”

#jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #outer banks #netflix #outer banks fic #jj maybank fic #jey's oneshots #rudy pankow #john b routledge #pope heyward #kiara carrera #sarah cameron #rafe cameron #imagine #outer banks imagine

[calzona-ga]

EXCLUSIVE: ABC’s promo for the Season 17 premiere of Grey’s Anatomy teased a “shocking, jaw-dropping ending.” That was an understatement.

In one of the series’ biggest twists ever, a beloved character, Patrick Dempsey’s Derek Shepherd, whose tragic death in an April 2015 episode left fans heartbroken, came back. Appropriately, the late McDreamy appeared in a dream sequence, joining Ellen Pompeo’s Meredith Grey on a beach seconds after Meredith collapsed in the parking lot of Grey Sloan Memorial.

The sweet Meredith-Derek reunion was the joyous coda to an emotional two-hour season premiere of Grey’s Anatomy’s 17th season, dedicated to frontline healthcare workers, which marked the conclusion of a Station 19 crossover. It was marked by tragedy, as Meredith struggled to cope with the mounting COVID deaths at the hospital; anger, as medical personnel were left to fight the disease without enough PPE; hope, as the teenage girl whom DeLuca had unsuccessfully tried to save from human trafficking was reunited with her family; heartbreak, as Owen refused to reconcile with Teddy despite her pleas for forgiveness; and happiness, as Link and Derek’s sister Amelia took their newborn baby boy home. In fact, just minutes after Link announced their son’s name, Scout Derek Shepherd Lincoln, Derek made his appearance. While not necessarily designed as a clue, “it all came together quite beautifully,” Grey’s Anatomy showrunner Krista Vernoff and star Pompeo said.

In an exclusive interview with Deadline, which had known about the big twist, Dempsey, Vernoff and Pompeo reveal how the idea for McDreamy’s return came about, how long he will stick around, how the scene was filmed, and the great lengths to which the show went in order to keep the cameo a secret so fans can fully enjoy it.

Vernoff and Pompeo also address Meredith’s fate following her medical emergency and in the context of Pompeo’s contract coming up at the end of the season, how the real-life coronavirus pandemic changed Grey’s Anatomy on and off the screen, whether will there be COVID casualties among the staff of Grey Sloan, are there plans for a time jump, and is there hope for Teddy and Owen.

Dempsey, who has a cancer foundation, had his own questions for Vernoff and Pompeo about whether advancements in COVID treatments and the issue of wearing masks are reflected on the show.

DEADLINE: Before we talk about Patrick’s return, let’s address the incident that brought on the cameo, Meredith’s collapse, because we usually associate those kind of visions with somebody on the brink of death. Is Meredith OK? Is this just her being overworked, or is it COVID or something else very serious?

VERNOFF: Well, you have to tune in next week. We started the episode with Meredith dreaming of a beach, and at the end of the episode, she’s dreaming of the beach where Derek happens to be, and that’s what we know so far.

DEADLINE: How did the idea to bring Patrick back come about?

VERNOFF: From a writer’s perspective, it happened because it was my job to find a way — once we determined that we were doing the pandemic — to also bring joy, and escape, and fan candy, and all the things that at Grey’s Anatomy we give people. We give them romance, and we give them humor, and we give them joy, and a lot of that is lacking for the medical community in this pandemic. And so, I was walking on the beach one day, and I was like, what if there’s a Meredith dream motif?

There have been studies about how intense our dream life has been. In the pandemic, people are having really intense dreams because of the lockdown. We’re not getting enough stimulation, and so, it’s happening in our dreams. So, it started as that. It started as, how do we give people some escape. I had this imagining of a beach motif throughout the season, and I called Ellen, and I said, what if we bring back, I don’t know, some dead character that you could dream of on the beach, that would be so fun for the fans.

And she said, let’s get Patrick. Even in my most excitable dream life, that thought hadn’t occurred to me as an option, and there it was.

DEADLINE: Ellen, what made you think of Patrick?

POMPEO: Patrick and I both have homes in Malibu, and we went for a hike one day. I had known that Krista wanted to do a beach thing, and I was at the beach. Patrick and I weren’t hiking on the beach, but we were hiking in Malibu, which, you can see the beach.

And the idea just struck me so I just said to him, would you ever consider coming and being a part of the storytelling this season? I know that Patrick has his foundation in Maine where he helps cancer patients and cancer survivors, and that’s a huge effort of his, and I know that it’s important to him, also, to give people hope, and give people joy, and we wanted to bring something to this moment.

There’s just so much darkness, and we knew that coming together would be a little ray of light. And so, I think we had the same idea, at the core, to want to help people and bring a smile to people’s faces. So, he loved the idea, and we were just so excited, and we had a ball filming it.

DEADLINE: Patrick, were you surprised when Ellen asked? What made you say yes?

DEMPSEY: I had a lot of calls from a lot of local government officials in Maine saying, we really need to get the message out there, to get people to socially distance, to wear a mask. I came across a photo that I was going to post that had Ellen and I, and I think that produced a call where I reached out to Ellen, and this was right around, the conversation was starting for Season 17. And Ellen’s like, let’s get together, I want to go over a couple things, I want to catch up.

We hadn’t spoken or been together for a while. It was a great opportunity to catch up and say, OK, what can we do for all the frontline responders? I’ve been tracking what Grey’s had been doing with giving masks, and making sure that people had the right equipment, and it came from that place — OK, what can we do to make people feel better, to give some comfort in this time of uncertainty, and that’s how it began. And it was really a wonderful experience to go back, to work with [director/EP] Debbie [Allen].

I think the whole atmosphere has changed, certainly working at the beach, and seeing everybody again was really a very healing process, and really rewarding, and a lot of fun. And hopefully, that feeling translates, and the fans enjoy it. I know that they’ve been wanting us to get back together, and I think this will satisfy a lot of people, and surprise a lot of people, hopefully.

DEADLINE: Was it easy to go back into character?

DEMPSEY: It was really enjoyable. It was really exciting, and fun, and it was great to see everybody. Kevin [McKidd, who directs Episode 3] was there as well, so there was a lot of familiar faces, a lot of new faces. The dynamic behind the camera had changed. There’s much more diversity within the crew. There was a nice balance, too, of equality that I was seeing. So, culturally, there was a lot of things that were different, that I thought were very positive and very inspiring, actually.

DEADLINE: Ellen, Patrick, did you filmed the beach scene together?

POMPEO: Yes.

DEADLINE: How was it looking at each other, on set, in character, after so many years?

DEMPSEY: Well, I have less eyesight than I used to, so (laughter). It was great. It was really fun, very special. it felt really comfortable, incredibly safe. The whole process, I have to say, from getting tested before even showing up to the set, the whole process in which we shot, I felt safe the whole time. You felt the crew was protected. We had the outdoor space, and it was easy.

POMPEO: It felt great. Patrick and I have this chemistry, where I think, even from when we first met, for some reason it just felt like we’ve known each other for a hundred years, and it’s just the same feeling. It’s like riding a bike, we just have a chemistry and a dynamic that’s always served us well, and I think we have a genuine affection for each other.

And it was very healing to come back, and know that we’re doing something good, putting out a positive story, a healing story, going to make people smile, and I think, for me, I’m really grateful for the opportunity to be able to be at this place in the show where we can do this. We constantly get to rewrite, I don’t want to say the ending, but we get to keep the rewrites going, which, I guess, you writers love, right?

They love to start over, to scrap it and rewrite it, and make it better, and that’s what’s fun about this process this far along, is getting the opportunity to work with Patrick again, and just coming up with ideas, how do we keep surprising the fans, and how do we keep the quality of the show up, is what makes it continue to be fun.

DEADLINE: How long is Patrick going to stick around for?

VERNOFF: It’s more than the one scene you saw, Nellie, and it was just joyful. I really want to echo that. Patrick and Ellen and I were all there at the beginning of this; I wasn’t there for the pilot, but I was there for the first seven seasons, and that was 17 years ago. That was, like, a lifetime ago; my kids weren’t alive. It was so wild to walk out on that beach, and just be together again as these different people that we are now. But I can’t overstate how joyful and healing an experience this was.

DEMPSEY: Yeah, for me as well. It was really special. It’s really hard to believe, 17 years, that’s remarkable. I mean, a lot of us didn’t have children at that point, right? So, our kids have grown up, they’re now in school. It’s crazy how much time has passed, but it really was so comforting, and lovely, and inspiring to go back, and to work together, to see everybody. It really was so open, too, that was the thing, really, people were very, I think, vulnerable in a positive way, where we were all grateful to be there and to be together.

DEADLINE: And you are game to do more episodes?

DEMPSEY: Yeah, it was fun, because I really love the message of what the dynamic is in this story. With everything that we’re dealing with right now, and certainly we have been distracted with the election, but we’re going to get back into the reality of COVID and being in a pandemic, and all the lives that have been lost. Where are these souls going? And I think that’s what attracted me to this storyline, I think it can be really helpful and healing to so many people.

POMPEO: I also think that, in a strange way, the behind the scenes of the show is certainly paralleling what we need, with the stories that we put out. What do we love about the show? We love that the show brings people together. We love that the show hopefully opens people’s minds, it opens people’s hearts, and I think that, in the running of the show and the making of the show, if we follow those same principles, if we follow the principles of love first, of acceptance, of open mind, open heart, forgiveness, all of it is, that’s the message of Grey’s.

And for us to be able to mirror that behind the scenes, and truly walk our walk and talk our talk with each other, those who created the show, I think, is a really amazing full-circle sort of story for a TV show that’s gone on this long.

DEADLINE: How hard was it to keep Patrick’s return a secret?

VERNOFF: I have to say that it was an epic feat, the keeping of this secret. I didn’t send cuts to the studio and network that included that last scene. I didn’t have writers’ assistants in the writers’ room for the last couple of months. There were writers who didn’t know we were doing this on that staff. Most of the actors didn’t know we were doing this. The crew didn’t know we were doing this when they showed up on the day.

I put the name “Ellis Grey” in the script that we read at the table, and I had Meredith say “Mom” at the table, so we got there on the day, and no one had been told what was happening. So, also watching the crew react, and [producer] Linda Klein, who’s been there from the beginning, we got Norman back, who was our amazing hair guy from the beginning [Norman T. Leavitt was makeup department head on ABC’s Grey’s Anatomy for the first 14 seasons]. I was like a crazy person with this secret. And Ellen and I were texting at all hours of the night, like, who knows, I think this person.

POMPEO: Absolutely.

DEADLINE: Will we see Ellis on the show this season?

VERNOFF: I don’t know. I don’t know. You have to tune in and see who comes to the beach. It’ll be a joyful discovery.

DEADLINE: Ellen, your character is dealing with a lot of tragic COVID deaths in the premiere. For you and Krista, will we see some tragedy within the ranks of the Grey Sloan staff too? A lot of medical professionals have lost their lives to COVID in real life.

POMPEO: I think we have a responsibility to really show what these healthcare workers have been going through. It’s so easy for a big part of the population to just be irritated with wearing a mask, and they’re sort of disconnected from what real doctors and nurses and anyone who works in a hospital are actually dealing with.

I don’t want to speak for Krista, but I think for me, certainly, I saw this as an opportunity to tell the story of how hard this is for our healthcare workers; it’s devastating for them. I think Krista will tell you that they’ve sat down with so many doctors and nurses, and they hear the stories, and they’re writing right from these stories that they’re hearing. And this has been devastating, and changed the medical community forever.

So we have to show, that’s our responsibility, to show what a struggle this is for healthcare workers, and continues to be as we see [COVID] numbers spiking again. We have to try to spread some empathy, and show people that this is very real, and it’s really hard, and the next time you want to complain about wearing a mask, think about what these people have to do. They have to wear a mask, they have to wear full PPE, full cappers. They literally have to do 50 things just to be able to perform their job.

DEADLINE: Krista?

VERNOFF: I have to say that I feel like Ellen did an extraordinary job in that premiere, paying respect to healthcare workers with her performance. The thing that she did is exactly what I’ve been talking about so much, which is that these doctors and nurses who come to the writers’ room every year. They are joyful and excited, and they’re always there to tell us these exciting stories. And this year, it felt like, it was the first time they were talking to anybody.

It was the first break they were taking. It was the first time anyone was asking them what they were living through, and to a person, it felt like they were on the verge of breaking. They were different people, and I felt like Ellen so beautifully embodied it throughout this episode, the change, what this pandemic is doing to people who were trained to help and heal, but not trained to walk through war, and not trained to lose dozens of patients, sometimes in a day.

It’s breaking them, and I feel like we’re already showing the strain and the impact, and yes, there will be more of that, and somehow, we’re also bringing joy. We’ve been carefully threading this needle, of paying honor and homage, and telling the truth of this story, while finding ways to also bring joy to the audience, and I’m really excited about Season 17.

DEADLINE: You’re not going to hint whether anyone on the show is in jeopardy, are you?

VERNOFF: Well, for sure, Nellie, for sure people are in jeopardy. Meredith collapses at the end of the premiere. People are in jeopardy, and multiple people are in jeopardy throughout the season, in myriad ways, because that’s the moment we’re living through.

DEADLINE: Ellen, should we read more into Meredith’s collapse in light of you figuring out your future on the show? You have said that you’re not sure what you’re going to do beyond this season.

POMPEO: You can’t read into anything. Really, that’s dangerous territory. I think that, collectively, we, or creatively, it’s the same this year as it always is. Is there a reason to continue? What stories do we have to tell? What characters do we have to bring back that gives us story to tell? I said in another interview last week, we’re always in this incredibly sweet spot with this show, for whatever reason.

We always have incredible circumstances that allow us to continue creatively, whether it’s ideas, or circumstances that happen. Our goal is just to make good TV. I think we’re all aware of the icon status of the show, we’re so aware of that, and I think that that’s why Patrick was so humble and so grateful to be able to come back, because we are very grateful that we have this huge platform. And I don’t think any of us take the platform that we have lightly.

And so, at this point, I think, we don’t know what we’re going to do. We know that we’re grateful, and we know that we want to show our gratitude, and grateful to each other making the show, that we’re able to keep continuing to grow, and to tell stories that we think are important, and getting this moment. Listen, who gets career runs like this? Patrick Dempsey’s been working since he’s … I know he’s been working off-camera even earlier, but I mean, when was your first role, Patrick, when you were 16 or 17?

DEMPSEY: Sixteen, 17, so 30 years.

POMPEO: Who gets a run like that? So, I just think that we’re incredibly grateful to be able to still be here, and be telling these stories that we feel are important, and we’ll see. Creatively, this is our heavy-lifting, to keep raising the bar for ourselves, but we’ve got something great, which is we’ve got gratitude, and we’re all smart, creative people. So, if there’s a way to figure it out, we certainly will.

DEMPSEY: The range of emotions, where you’re getting a chance to cry, but you’re also getting a chance to laugh, I think that’s a huge success in the storytelling. The whole ride has been remarkable on so many levels, being a part of this show for so many years, and it’s profoundly changed my life in so many ways. I’m very grateful for that, and hopefully to use that platform in a positive way, where you’re doing something good. And I’m grateful to be a part of this show at this particular moment in time.

DEADLINE: The premiere is set in April 2020. Krista, will the show fast forward to now?

VERNOFF: We’re not fast forwarding. We’re playing it through. So, by the time it’s airing, most of what we’re doing is almost a year ago, in the timeline. And there’s more joy.

DEMPSEY: Do you get into how the disease is treated over time as well? Do you get into how the science — and I think this is an important thing for us to remember and to really believe in the science, in the breakthroughs that they’re making on a daily basis. How do you track that, and has that been part of your conversation?

VERNOFF: It is. It’s a constant part of the conversation, and we have three doctors on staff now who come into the writers’ room most of the time, and we have a lot of conversations of even the evolution, what you see in terms of the protective gear that they’re wearing in the premiere versus the evolution of the protective gear, when are they treating with ventilators and when are they not. There were drug studies and drug trials, and we’re doing our best to be honest about that progress, and also the evolution in the hospitals.

Grey Sloan in the premiere has a special COVID ward, and these intake tents, and then, throughout the course of the season, other spaces evolve to hold COVID patients, and we’re hearing news about other hospitals. Washington was hit really hard early on. So, we’re trying to play through all of that.

DEMPSEY: Sorry, follow-up question, if I may. Do you get into the politics of the mask, and how that affects in a negative or a positive way? Do you go down that road at all?

VERNOFF: We try to stay away from overt politics, and the politicizing of the mask is a real thing that happened. So, we’re not talking about politicians. We just don’t do that at Grey’s Anatomy, partly because we want the show to be for everybody, and we don’t want it to become so polarizing, where it feels like we’re preaching from some particular pulpit. We’re just sticking with the science, and the reaction of doctors to the idea that people are not understanding and/or not believing that masks are imperative to protect other people and themselves.

So, we’re playing it through character, is the answer, like what an outrage it is for these doctors, who spend their lives and their all-day, every-day, trying to save people, to see human beings out there choosing not to protect their fellow human beings, because they’re not believing in science, and they’re not believing scientists.

DEADLINE: How is filming going? Grey’s was one of the first shows to shut down production early in the pandemic to protect the cast and crew. How is it now, with the new COVID wave? I write stories about shutdowns virtually every day.

VERNOFF: I mean, knocking wood, so far.

POMPEO: Good so far, yeah. We’re good. Of course, anything can happen at any moment, but I think that collectively, everybody’s really careful. And again, we’re trying to be mindful of one another, and we’re trying to be mindful of how we live our lives when we’re not at work, because that’s the smart thing to do, and we have to come to work and keep everybody safe. Nobody wants to get shut down.

VERNOFF: We’re really careful in our creating of the show, also, to help the actors feel safe. We shut down before other shows, we also came back to production before a lot of other shows, thanks to truly the leadership of Debbie Allen. There was some leadership from me, but for sure, it was guided by Debbie Allen going, if we don’t come back, we’re never going to come back, come on, Krista, we’re coming back. Set a date, set a date, set a date, where’s the scripts? Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go.

She kept saying, if you put a date on the calendar, we’re going to work toward it, and we’re going to figure out how to do it safely, and we really did figure out how to do it safely. We were lucky that we’re set in a hospital, so that our actors, when they’re working together tightly, can be in masks. But it was also my job, and the job of the writers, to come up with plans and motifs that allowed the audience to see the actors’ faces, and the actors to feel safe in that.

So, you didn’t just see a beach motif, which is a continuing motif through the season, and it was designed, that particular motif, so that Ellen could come to work without a mask and feel safe, because she’s outside; the epidemiologists have been clear about how much safer outside is. But you also saw, for the first time in 17 seasons, Meredith’s house back yard. We built a backyard set on the exterior of the lot, outside the writers’ bungalow, so that those actors could give us some no-mask time, and feel safe in the beginning.

And more and more, we’re understanding how to keep everyone safe indoors, so we’re getting a little bit more without masks indoors, but at the beginning, we had to really be creative, in terms of how are we doing this, how are we keeping ourselves safe, how are we helping them feel safe, and how are we giving the fans a show that’s joyful in addition to true.

DEADLINE: And one final question: is there any hope for Teddy and Owen?

VERNOFF: Teddy is doing good. They’ve got a long haul, Nellie. If there’s hope for them, it’s in the ethers, but you know, I didn’t have a lot of hope that Patrick Dempsey was going to be back on Grey’s Anatomy last year, and look where we are. So…

#grey's anatomy #Ellen Pompeo #Patrick Dempsey #news #spoiler #deadline #krista vernoff #season 17 #17x01 #17x02

[multimetaverse]

is secrets of sulphur springs worth watching?

Very much so anon! I’ve been pleasantly surprised at how good it is. The time travel mystery is engrossing and the writing and acting are a cut above regular Disney shows; it honestly feels more like something you’d see on netflix. The on location filming in Louisiana is gorgeous and the sets are well crafted, I really like the bunker in particular. There’s a real attention to detail as well; like how they refer to Parishes as that’s what they have in Louisiana rather than counties as is used elsewhere in the USA. Or when Griffin says that the police dredged the nearby lake after Savannah’s disappearance, and later the kids refer to Savannah as being dead in the present day. I also like that we see Griffin’s parents talking about money and how his mom is concerned that they’ve poured their savings into rebuilding the Tremont Hotel. Later she jokes that the Tremont has been upgraded from death trap to money pit.

Unlike most Disney channel shows it’s rated PG which allows the writing to have a bit of an edge. We see just how awful Griffin’s grandad was to Griffin’s dad in the past and hear Savannah talking about being a foster kid and how no one would care if she vanished, Harper’s mom even refers to Savannah as ‘little orphan Annie’’ which is a pretty cutting line for a Disney show. In 1x06 Ben and Savannah sneak off to the treehouse and end up having a sleepover before Savannah heads to the Tremont basement, it’s completely innocent of course but also risque for Disney channel.

Secrets of Sulphur Springs had quite a twisty path to air, originally it was a Disney channel show but they passed it to Disney + which wanted something to tap into the stranger things/supernatural genre but a talent search didn’t pan out so they gave it back to Disney channel in spring 2019 and they ordered a pilot to film in New Orleans over the summer before giving the show an 11 ep season order in October 2019. Filming started in New Orleans in January 2020, shut down in March due to covid, and re-started in October and finally finished in November 2020. I can see why Disney executives never gave up on it though. Interestingly the creators come from soap opera backgrounds and have 3 seasons all planned out.

Ratings have been as good as they can get for Disney channel at this point. The first 3 eps aired together and got 520 000 views while the Bunk’d S5 premiere which aired a half hour earlier at 7:30pm got 610 000 views. Ep 4 of Secrets of Sulphur Springs got 400 000 views as did Bunk’d 5x02, but ep 5 got 420 000 views while Bunk’d 5x03 got only 300 000 views, and ep 6 got 480 000 views while Bunk’d 5x04 got 360 000. Disney commissioned Secrets of Sulphur Springs in part to try and retain tween and teen boy viewers who usually stop watching Disney Channel. There’s only specific info for 1x06 so far but it scored a 0.13 rating among girls and women aged 12-34 and a 0.12 among boys and men aged 12-34 as compared to Bunk’d 5x04 which scored a 0.10 among girls and women and only 0.05 among boys and men which suggests that Secrets of Sulphur Springs is in fact drawing a more male skewing audience than a typical Disney show. Also of note is that Disney is putting the first 5 eps of Secrets of Sulphur Springs on Disney + at the end of February. 

The main character Griffin Campbell isn’t written like a typical Disney guy who tend to fall either into the bland love interest or wacky comic relief categories, clearly they were trying to make him a main character that young boys could identify with. Griffin and his new best friend Harper are very active protagonists and act in a clever but realistic way as they try and save Savannah (the creators said in an interview that they were careful to make sure that Griffin and Harper would ask the same questions that kids at home would ask). Both Griffin’s parents and Harper’s mom don’t act like typical Disney parents, they can be stern and put their foot down when needed and the secrets Griffin’s dad and Harper’s mom are keeping help make the plot so intriguing. The cast meshes well and Griffin and Harper have good chemistry as best friends/first crushes and I’d expect their dynamic to become more important in later seasons as the characters and actors grow older. The show also has one of the best depictions I’ve seen of how kids use their phones and technology in general. I’d really recommend checking out Secrets of Sulphur Springs, its got Lost/Gravity Falls vibes and I hope it gets the 3 seasons the writers have planned out.

#Secrets of Sulphur Springs #Griffin Campbell #Harper Dunn #Ben Campbell #Jess Dun #Savannah Dillon #Secrets of Sulphur Springs Asks #Asks #Answered

[pointnumbersixteen]

A Few Thoughts on the Ghosts’ Christmas Special

I’m going to start with the things I really liked, because that’s always best.

1) In the Bleak Midwinter. Beautiful. I’d love to have a Ghosts’ musical. I don’t care how much they’d have to stretch to pull it off. But since that’s unlikely, all of them singing a Christmas carol together was a nice gift to help sate that desire. Did I mentioned it was beautiful? Some of the cast can really sing... the rest of them can at least fit nicely into a chorus. And the way it fit into the episode, with the Ghosts satisfying Alison’s Christmas wish after she did her best to satisfy all of theirs, that was wonderful. All of my subsequent rewatches have been for that part. And ‘twist-it.’

2) I enjoyed the bits with Fanny and the Christmas tree. I don’t know why, but that was one of my favorite subplots. Maybe because I really love Christmas trees. And Fanny remained tolerable throughout, which is hard for Fanny.

3) I enjoyed Pat and Cap’s reaction to the handsome men comment, straightening their ties and looking proud of themselves. It was very adorable. And how Pat and Cap spent most of the episode together. 

4) Mary’s interactions with the baby were interesting and added something both to her character and to the world-building of the show (babies can sometimes see ghosts) which could pay off later in the show if Mike and Alison ever have a child or something like that. 

5) Julian’s daughter became a Green party MP. That’s perfect. 

And the things I didn’t like... (because, unpopular opinion, overall I was kind of disappointed with the episode?) These are largely subjective, but hey, most entertainment reactions are. 

1) Mike’s family was kind of awful. They didn’t treat him with any respect whatsoever. Particularly his sisters. Like, y’all are all in your late twenties/early thirties. He’s hosting y’all, trying to give you a really nice Christmas. And your reaction to this is to intentionally try to make him miserable and angry so he’ll have a meltdown on Christmas day that you can record and laugh at him about later? That’s not a fun sibling dynamic. That’s super immature and toxic and if my sister or I tried doing stuff like that to each other, we’d probably just stop speaking to each other. I certainly wouldn’t invite her over for Christmas.

2) I didn’t like how Kitty sided with Mike’s sisters, with the oh, yeah, Mike’s so stupid bits. I get how she’s lonely and bandwagons with whatever young women are in the house, and yeah, Mike isn’t the brightest bulb out there... but neither is Kitty, for that matter, so maybe show a little loyalty to the guy you live with and who does his best to accommodate you and your ghosty friends even though he can’t see y’all? 

3) Where is Alison’s family? It would have taken one line to establish that they are dead, estranged, vacationing in Bermuda, what have you. It’s not like they have to go into all of the details, if they want to make that a focus of a later episode... even if they want to leave it a mystery, they could have mentioned something like, ‘oh, I wish my family could have been here’ or ‘oh, I wish I had any sort of relationship at all with my family.’ Not mentioning it at all just left me with a giant question mark and seems needlessly coy. It’s not like they trimmed all the fat for run time, because they certainly didn’t, so ‘wasn’t relevant enough to make the cut’ can’t be the explanation. 

4) A lot of the characters’ subplots were EXACTLY what I would have predicted them to be. Thomas spending most of the episode pining for a kiss under the mistletoe from Alison? If I had to put money on a prediction beforehand, that would have been it. Robin ranting that Christmas is a crock? Same. Kitty following various people around the house like a puppy while tossing hints that her sister is horrible? Well, that’s basically what she does in most of the episodes. Pat’s Christmas recollections of the eighties being exactly what mine were in the nineties... the kids playing board games (later video games) while the adults drink until someone inevitably squabbles? Of course they were. And on the one hand, it speaks to consistent characterization... but on the other hand, doing the most predictable thing possible with half the characters is kind of... boring. Like, I’m sure they could have kept the characters in-character while coming up with something a bit more surprising for at least ONE of them. It would have been nice.

5) Once again, Humphrey is underutilized. I enjoy Humphrey as a character, so I find the episodes where Humphrey is just a prop to be a bit frustrating and his entire experience in this episode was being used as a baby mobile for a few seconds. 

6) And once again, we get no new information on the Captain. And after thirteen episodes, it’s becoming less mysterious and more frustrating. Half the fun of mysteries is being provided hints and tidbits to see if your guesses are going to pan out and so it’d be great if they could get on with that. I know they’ve said in interviews they want to set the tone before getting into some of the deeper stuff, but... the tone’s set, guys. You’ve had two full seasons. Get to it.  

7) I didn’t find making Julian’s plot the emotional payoff of the episode very satisfying. He spent his daughter’s entire life avoiding her at Christmas and listening to a baby cry for like 24 hours 30 years after he died suddenly made him rethink his life choices? It just didn’t feel very believable for him to have the Ebeneezer Scrooge Christmas change-of-heart just from that. That it made him curious about what happened to his daughter? Sure. That it suddenly enlightened him to the true meaning of Christmas? That seemed OOC to me. This is Mr. Balls-to-Animals we’re talking about.

8) If, alternatively, you see Mike’s conversation with his dad about how eventually he and his mom aren’t going to be able to do the things they do on Christmas as the emotional payoff, that works a bit better narratively, but I found it incredibly depressing to be reminded that eventually my parents are going to die in the Christmas episode of my emotional-comfort show, particularly since we all spent Christmas sick with covid (thankfully, after a few scary days, it looks like we’ll all probably recover, but still, that was not what I needed this year... and I know they wrote this episode before covid became a thing, but still, Boxing Day when my dad was trying to tell me how his blood sugar had shot above 300 but he couldn’t get a single full word out without coughing ranks as one of the scariest days of my life and trying to re-watch the Christmas special afterwards for comfort to be hit by the reminder that this could be our last Christmas together hurt. I know, again, that’s very specific to my situation, but there it is.). 

Anyway, I’ll probably add more stuff as I think about it more, but these are the things that stuck out to me after three watches. 

#bbc ghosts #christmas special #alison cooper #mike cooper #the captain #pat butcher #robin the cave man #thomas thorne #julian fawcett #mary #kitty #lady fanny button #headless humphrey #covid christmas sucked friends

[gra-sonas]

Day after day this summer, with covid-19 shuttering much of the world, Lily Cowles would enter a small sewing room in her family’s 18th century home in Northwest Connecticut, crawl inside some blankets, and scream. Along with her wails, she’d repeat the same phrases, over and over — all part of a daily ritual that spanned some four hours, until a collection of voices told her they were satisfied. Then she would collect herself, climb out from the blankets and greet her boyfriend who could hear her through the walls in the next room.

“Man, you died a lot of ways today,” he’d say.

“I don’t know why they killed me so bad,” Cowles would reply.

Such were the unusual conditions for Cowles and others when recording the dialogue — and other vocalizations — for the upcoming game “Call of Duty: Black Ops Cold War,” the newest addition to the famed and fanciful war sim series. The blanket-draped fort served as the actress’s workstation, with a host of audio producers providing directions via video conference. Occasionally those instructions included imagining a wide variety of fates for her character, requiring lengthy sessions capturing death cries. All of it was part of a months-long, pandemic-related process to produce the game, one that proved both challenging in its never-before-done nature and cathartic for its ample opportunities to exorcise the many anxieties of 2020.

“It just felt so good to scream for that long,” said Cowles, who plays MI-6 operative Helen Park and supplied the character’s voice for both the game’s story and multiplayer modes. She recalled one session in which the game’s audio producers recorded her falling from a 30-story building. “I was like, ‘can we make it 40 floors? I could really use the extra 10 [stories] of just straight screaming.’ It just felt like a real relief.”

The unorthodox routine was shared by “Cold War’s” cast of 125 actors as they pivoted to follow safety protocols related to the novel coronavirus, which temporarily shut down the game’s production in March. The latest installment in the Call of Duty franchise, releasing Nov. 13, was completed with both developers and actors working remotely and overcoming a variety of logistical challenges.

“At the time [in March, when covid cases escalated in the United States] we thought it might be like 20 people or 50 percent of the studio who would have to work from home, and maybe that would be for like two weeks,” Dan Vondrak, Senior Creative Director at Raven Software, said. “And then it was everybody. … In my head, I was thinking, if this thing lasts six to eight weeks, we can’t get it done. That’s impossible.”

For Cowles and the game’s other actors, that meant recording lines of dialogue — and their many screams — from the confines of their homes. That process normally would be captured in large part during live shoots using motion capture suits on a studio sound stage. During the pandemic, capturing those recordings provided a unique challenge for narrative producer Natalie Pohorski and her team.

“One of those areas I thought we were just dead in the water was the external talent [voice overs],” Vondrak said. “I can’t have actors go into a studio. So, how is this going to work? And what Natalie and the narrative team did to get that to work and have people recording at home was unbelievable.”

Before dispersing from the studio, Pohorski and Vondrak estimated they had between 50 and 60 percent of the voice over work finalized. Working with their partners at Activision (the game’s publisher) and Treyarch (“Cold War’s” co-developer), Pohorski and her team shipped the actors crates filled with recording equipment that included helmets wired with microphones, sound mixing boards and materials to improve the acoustics around their homes.

“They sent me this giant Pelican briefcase that looked like I’m an arms dealer,” Cowles said.

Veteran actor Bruce Thomas, who plays the role of CIA agent Russell Adler in the game, already had a 5-foot-by-5-foot sound booth he’d constructed in his apartment adjacent to his kitchen. He’d used it to previously to record voice overs, including for some commercials, but he’d never recorded himself there quite so regularly — or at quite the same volume level. To that end, he sought to get ahead of any potential problems with a kind gesture and a heads-up for his neighbors about any yells they may hear through the walls.

“I delivered cookies and a little note to their doors right next to me and below me,” Thomas said. “I just moved here in January, so I hadn’t really met them yet, and I got a text message from the person below me who was like, ‘Oh my God! You do that for a living? How cool is that? Even if I hear you, don’t worry about it.’”

The conditions also required the actors to perform another role as well: that of audio engineer, recording and tinkering with sound levels to ensure quality and consistency. The studio’s engineers would call actors and walk them through proper setups and troubleshoot issues, but when something went wrong, the actors would have to be the ones to fix it manually. Turns out CIA operatives have the same tech troubles as other remote workers.

“Because of covid, everybody’s home and sharing bandwidth,” Thomas said about the Internet connection in his apartment building. “Sometimes it would just cut right out [during an online recording session]. And sometimes when that happens, a glitch will happen on your laptop and so you have to reboot it.”

The recording process consisted of four sessions per day, every day of the week, according to Pohorski, who also noted they wrapped at a similar time compared to what they’d anticipated in their pre-pandemic production schedule, even as they navigated challenges that would have been easily addressed in their usual studio setting.

“To not be able to just walk up and touch the screen and act out what I was talking about … ‘I want the guy’s head to turn this way,’ … I was trying to do it real time in a video camera,” Vondrak said. “Just the communication of that last 20 percent [of the game] was probably the most difficult.”

The on-the-fly evolution of several standardized processes did carry some fringe benefits, according to both the developers and actors. On the development team, Vondrak noted some people seemed more willing to contribute their opinions to the creative process when they didn’t feel the pressure of speaking up in a formal meeting. For the actors, Cowles said her isolated, remote location led her to take more chances with her character.

“I think I was able to make facial expressions and noises that, in a normal setting, my body would be like, ‘Don’t, don’t, don’t. You don’t want to make that noise. Don’t make that face,’" Cowles said. “But I was alone in this thing, and you know, the context in which we’re working [as characters] is this crazy war zone where horrible things are going down. Right? And no one in that situation is thinking about the sound they’re making or the face that they’re making. … I think that led to a degree of authenticity in my work.”

Another silver lining, according to Vondrak, was the increased flexibility in scheduling follow-up sessions for VO work. Oftentimes VO recording sessions are pegged to specific times of the year when the developers can gather all the actors in one place and free them from their other projects. (For example, Thomas is also the motion capture actor for Master Chief for the upcoming game “Halo: Infinite.”) With everyone working from home, the actors’ schedules became more flexible.

“It was like, wait a minute, we can just go back to these people and have them pop out of their family room, into their closet and record some VO lines,” Vondrak said. “Normally it would have been like, ‘We need some new lines.’ And [the schedulers] would have said, ‘Well, the next pick up session where everyone’s going to be in the studio is June.' It’s [normally] a very slow, formal process."

The flexibility did carry an occasional side effect of home life encroaching on the working world, and vice versa, often providing a uniquely 2020 kind of amusement.

Cowles remembered recording a scene in which her character laments the loss of one of her companions, screaming his name repeatedly as a helicopter whisks her away.

“I came out of the sewing room, and my boyfriend is like … ‘So, who is he?’” Cowles said. “I was like, ‘Don’t worry about it. He’s dead now.’”

#lily cowles #call of duty: black ops cold war #rnm cast interviews #helen park

[oimoi-op]

when were you diagnosed with t1d?

Ok, so storytime! Short answer is, as of today, barely over two months ago. 

(Very long post warning y’all, contains hospital mention and extensive, possibly upsetting descriptions of health conditions, specifically DKA)

My family doesn’t really have a history of T1D or even T2D, though my second-cousin-once-removed has had T1D for over a decade now. So, there was never any reason for me to try and get tests done for it. The only sign I really had up until last semester was two copies of a variant of an HLA gene that I knew about from a 23andMe report (which, according to the report, put me at a higher risk for celiac’s and nothing else), but of course at that time I had no idea that that could mean anything serious; after all, that sort of thing only happens to other people, right?

My college started in-person classes in the latter half of August. By October, I started feeling tired, having a lack of appetite, and needing water very, very badly. I actually went to my school’s clinic, and my erratic heartbeat prompted the doctor to recommend me for a Covid-19 test. My school’s protocols meant that I had to quarantine at my home (since I live within two hours of campus) until I got a negative test result. At home, I was drinking water all the time and sleeping constantly, and my parents had commented on how I’d been losing weight. I thought these were all good things. I had been slightly overweight at my high school graduation, and I’d always heard that drinking a lot of water is good for you, so I thought I was actually in excellent health even if I kind of felt like shit most of the time.

Well. Uh. I was wrong.

When finals came around in mid-November, I was just fucking tired. I’d get a decent eight hours of sleep and still have to take naps during the day. Hell, I was even late for work because I slept through one of my nap alarms. Studying was a pain in the ass. Attending classes was a pain in the ass. Staying awake for Zoom classes was a pain in the ass. I was waking up at 5 am to go to the bathroom, and then I would drink the rest of my water, refill it, drink half of it again, and then go back to sleep. Finally, November 20th rolled around, and I got to leave campus. It was my birthday (yeah I am a Scorpio and that weirds all of my friends out lol), and my parents took me to Fusion. And I just...couldn’t eat at all? I love hibachi, but I couldn’t even eat half of my food. The chef even got me a delicious banana split that I had to basically bully my younger sister into eating with me.

For the next week, I was sleeping about 18 hours a day. I didn’t think this was weird because I’d just had finals so yeah, it makes sense that I would be tired after exams and whatnot. I went shopping with my mom, sister, and sister’s bff. We were only out for a few hours, but I was fucking wiped out y’all, like in pain. Thanksgiving arrived, and again, I love food, I love eating, but I was not hungry in the slightest. I basically had to force myself to eat some of my favorite holiday foods just so I wouldn’t offend my mom, and then I didn’t eat for the day.

The very next morning, I was puking my guts out.

This started a pattern for the next few days: I would eat chicken noodle soup or some other food, sleep like the dead, and throw up every morning and every night. I started chugging large bottles of Gatorade constantly (which, if you know about diabetes and its health complications, did not help my situation in the slightest). I started breathing erratically after very little exertion. Like, I’m talking standing up and stretching brought about heavy, labored breathing. I weighed myself on my parents’ scale, and I was under 130 lbs. Now, for some people this might seem like a lot, but due to my height and build I could fucking see some of my ribs. That was when I started to realize that something was very, very wrong, but “losing weight is good” and I didn’t want my parents to laugh at me for voicing concerns (though, for all their faults, in hindsight, I doubt they would’ve). Yeah. Don’t do that, folks, that’s not a good mindset to have. 

On Sunday, my mom took me to town to get tested for Covid. This was despite me saying that I didn’t have symptoms (which I knew very well due to some of my friends catching it at school). Rapid test came back negative, so I did a culture test. Hell, while I was sitting in the damn chair, I was about to pass out. I asked for a nausea pill but my mouth was too dry for it to dissolve. I got a cup of water, downed it all, and felt like my throat was on fire. For the rest of the day I felt so, so awful. At some point I was walking toward my bed in my room and I fucking fell. I’m fucking lucky there was carpet. 

Regarding the rest of that night, things start to get blurry, for the lack of a better term. I legitimately cannot recall everything that happened that night or the following two days, so I will just try to explain it in the way I remember it best.

Around...midnight or one??? I was on fucking fire, so I went to my bathroom and decided to lie on the floor. The floor was hardwood and not at all cold, and it wasn’t fucking comfortable even in that state, but I was just in so much pain I didn’t even care. My mom must’ve heard because she found me there and asked me what I was doing. I said something about the floor. She asked me to go back to bed, but I must’ve scared her because she asked me if I wanted her to lie in the bed with me. I don’t remember what I said to her, but we were in the bed and she was trying to hug me, but she was too warm and so I told her to stop. I kept feeling this burning just below my chest, like there was acid in me (which I guess wasn’t too far off), so I would randomly sit up to try and alleviate the pain and not cry. I remember asking my mom to take me to the hospital in the morning.

My mom put me in the truck (I think around 5 am is what she told me). I remembered hearing my dad. I was lying down. Then I was awake, but I was on the floor. I thought this was wrong so I tried to tell my mom that but I guess I couldn’t talk. Then I was in a hospital bed, the ER I assume. My mom gave me some water with a sponge, and I was just so fucking thirsty. Then I was in the ICU hooked up to a bunch of machines. I didn’t know what was going on, but my mom kept giving me water with that sponge. That is all I remember from Monday.

I remember a little bit more from Tuesday. My mom said something about diabetes, but that didn’t make any sense to me because I wasn’t “fat” and I’d been losing weight, even! What had I done to get diabetes? I was thirsty and tired, so I slept a lot. At some point I really needed to use the restroom so I unhooked my IV???? (I mean I must’ve disconnected myself somehow but I can’t remember the details) which set off a shit ton of alarms and people were Very Concerned and kept asking me Why Did You Do That? But I just needed to go to the restroom, and they told me to use the Red Button to Call the Nurse (it was already there, and I now realize that we’d probably had a similar conversation about the Red Button to Call the Nurse possibly multiple times before this) in the future. A Chopped Teen Tournament from 2017 was playing on the TV nonstop. There were commercials for CGMs. I thought that God wasn’t being very funny about the whole thing.

As of now I remember even less of Wednesday, but I know that felt better. There was this diabetes specialist who kept talking about insulin and life at college moving forward, but I wasn’t really there, either because of being so out of it for health reasons, disassociating, or a combination of the two. My mom told me she had emailed a professor so he would give me an extension on an assignment that was due by then, and I remember crying because I thought that was just so nice of him. That night, this guy got me in a wheelchair and put me in another room, which I would later learn was the ACU. My night nurse was this nice woman named Tanya, who had a very thick Eastern European accent. She got me orange juice to take some potassium pills, but it felt like swallowing rocks. I didn’t really get a lot of sleep, so I was awake when the nurses changed shifts. I remember one of them expressing surprise that I was out of the ICU so early.

My mom took longer to come that day because nobody had told her I’d been moved. I’d had plain Cheerios and orange juice for breakfast, but I couldn’t really eat because my throat hurt so badly. I talked to a lot of doctors. I guess at this point or somewhere near it I accepted that I had diabetes, but it wasn’t really real until the same diabetes specialist was going over carbs. I thought I was never going to eat shit I liked ever again. I really wanted a fucking McChicken sandwich. I signed some papers for Medicaid because I had aged out of the CHIP while in the hospital. I finally texted my friends and explained to them what had happened. I was so fucking tired.

I got out the next day, so that was Thursday. Normally, I would’ve been in the hospital much longer (especially because my Medicaid hadn’t been approved, meaning no insurance had approved of my insulin yet), but Covid cases were on the rise and the hospital wanted me out of there. The diabetes specialist and one of my nurses snuck me two fast-acting and two basal insulin pens, and I was out. I ate half a McChicken, a small fry, and drank my first Diet Coke. It tasted like diesel mixed with piss. 

That’s the gist of it. The hospital staff was very nice and thoughtful the entire time, I think. I felt as though everyone involved cared about my health a lot. 

For those of you who aren’t T1D or just don’t know, what I experienced is called DKA, short for diabetic ketoacidosis. To simplify, I was very close to entering a diabetic coma. My sister later told me that our dad had said (I assume a doctor had told my mother, who, in turn, had told him) that I was “approximately 45 minutes” away from death. DKA happens when a diabetic (usually a T1D like me) has too much blood sugar in their body due to them lacking the insulin necessary to break the sugar down, so their body breaks down their fat reserves and muscle to get the energy it needs. This is why I lost around 50 pounds over the course of a few months (I was 118 lbs. when I entered the hospital, the lowest I’ve been since grade school). I was officially diagnosed with T1D on November 30th, just ten days after my 19th birthday, which is a little older than normal I believe. It’s...well, it’s not fun, but I feel very grateful for my large support system, and tomorrow I’m trying out a CGM for the first time and applying for both it and a pump, so things are really looking up 

#personal #iamapincushion #t1d #type one diabetes #type one diabetic #dka #diabetic ketoacidosis #tw hospital #tw dka #i don't think you meant me for to respond with such a long answer #but #well #it's something i've been wanting to post for a while now and this seemed like a good opportunity

[caffeinated-chaos-bean]

Mid-2021 Blog Update

Hey guys.

So... It’s been a while. Quite a while... and I want to lay some things out as to why I’ve been gone and the blog has practically been dead in the water for half a year, if not for a whole year. 

I want you to know that what I’m going to say will be in heavy detail. I’m comfortable speaking on it, and what information doesn’t just include me will be using either public details that I know I can share or will be put in a short and sweet manner.

This is your trigger warning: If you need to click off or scroll past due to the mention of extremely bad mental health, toxic relationships and households, the mention of depression, anxiety, and suicidal thoughts, please do so now.

. . .

First off, I’ve lessened the amount of time I’ve been online due to my mental health. I was put on antidepressants as well as told to take anti-anxiety gummies in November and will be weaned off of those starting this October. A lot of my family and relationship drama on top of the world practically shutting down and going into chaos thanks to COVID-19 just took a major toll on me. With so much on my shoulders, stress from living with said things on my shoulders, unsupportive family members, and an emotionally distant partner, I was at one of the lowest points in the life. I’d never had to be on mood-related medication in my life until last November. I’d always been able to handle what was thrown at me, but mid- to late-2020 was what knocked me down that low for the first time in my life. Suicidal thoughts came and went (they weren’t often, only when I couldn’t bottle my emotions up any longer but didn’t have a way to express them either), but even when they did, I knew that it was just in my head. I never once chose to act on them, because to me, that is not a way to solve a problem or escape your inner demons. All it does it put your personal suffering onto those around you -- your friends, family, and those who cared about you even when you don’t see it -- and it doesn’t do anyone any good. When my doctor asked me about suicide, that’s the very explanation I gave her. Yes, they happened, but I’d never act on them; it’s not a way out and it puts your pain onto others and only worsens the situation for the long-term.

Aside from that, though... I move on to other personal reasons for my absence that helped trigger what was mentioned above. Mid-August of 2019, my then fiancé's mother was murdered by two 17yr old boys of whom she and their family knew. Going off the information that was made public, one boy had mixed meth with marijuana prior to the killing. He claimed that my fiancé’s mother mouthed off and made a derogatory comment about his deceased mother, thus sparking the incident. While he claims to have only stabbed her once, the autopsy report shows that her head/face and upper torso were “hacked, slashed, and chopped” repeatedly with “various sharp, bladed objects”. Not only did they murder her, the two individuals also set the grass around her body on fire along with her home. When we found out about this having happened, I had no idea how bad it would have turned my relationship upside-down. My now ex-fiancé didn’t come from a great childhood, there was abuse and CPS, among other things. But he had managed and was a good person. He could make me laugh and tear up at his jokes, sang beautifully, and did everything to make those around him happy. When he lost his mom, it broke him. It shattered his very being, because not only did he know the two who caused it to happen, he also was unable to reconcile and make amends with his mother for what he went through as a child. He was robbed of being able to forgive and be on good terms with her, and it broke him. He stopped communicating with family, he took bereavement after being pulled from work by family the day it was confirmed to be his mother only to to fired 3 months down the line when he tried to go back (fuck Walmart for that btw), and was slowly becoming a hypochondriac. He stopped talking to me, he would cry in his sleep, and grief made him lash out as was expected. But as the days dragged on, his motivation and care towards finding a new job dwindled. He and my mother would fight endlessly and I was caught in the middle of it, as we all were in one household. There were times in which I would keep my phone on my leg and record for my own personal documentation should I need it due to how bad my own mother would belittle me, belittle my ex behind his back, and just scream and go off. When I’d turn to my ex for comfort, he wasn’t much help due to his own deteriorating mental health. He took to discord, specifically the Vampire the Masquerade community, as his escape from reality. He eventually would hardly talk to me at all, show no compassion, and at times I tried to speak with him about getting a new job or suggesting part-time ones that I felt would be easy and as stress-free as possible for him, I would be shooed away without a word; if I tried to further my attempt to have the conversation, he eventually got an attitude and would just say “Bye!” over and over again while shooing with his hand to get me to leave. There were many days where I’d get off work and sit in the bathroom for an hour and cry because of my frustration and how I felt stuck between two people I cared about deeply (ie. my ex and my mother).

My ex has since moved out and no longer lived with us. He and I are no longer together, and he has cut off all communication to me along with his family. He isn’t living in California anymore, really. He met up with discord friends and is in another state. That’s the last I heard from him. That’s the last his family heard. He doesn’t talk to us or attempt to reach out or respond when his family reaches out. I still very much care about him and want him to get better, but if he has to do so by being away from everyone, then so be it.

While I was letting - or shutting out, rather - the emotions I was feeling once he officially moved out, I relapsed with my anxiety tick; with my trichotillomania. I have a good number of smaller, thinned out spots in my hair from unconsciously pulling out strands of hair when my emotions didn’t know how to regulate. I’m still fighting to get this under control, as I do still catch myself doing it and so does my mother. It currently is not as bad as when my ex first moved out and I had to adjust back into sleeping alone and without someone next to me, but I do still pull. I am looking into trying to get my sister to order me a HabbitAware bracelet for me this Christmas in order to help get my tick back under control. I know its something I will live with forever and go in and out of doing, as there is no cure or medication to curb trichotillomania, but its something to help me be more aware of how often I do pull and to train it to no longer be a muscle memory response.

Most recently, I’ve had to stop taking melatonin. I’ve had bouts of insomnia since my ex left, and eventually I took enough melatonin to not only build an immunity to it but also a slight dependence. I was taking more than I should have been, and I noticed the signs of it and have stopped taking melatonin altogether. Due to this, I have switched to hempseed oil gummies. I take 2 before bed and they have helped wonderfully. But, due to how easy it was for me to become dependent on melatonin, I do plan to take brief breaks from the gummies to avoid a similar situation. I also do not plan on seeking an insomnia medication due to the same reasons. I knew what I was doing was wrong and I knew i was becoming addicted, and due to this I do not wish to risk it happening with a prescription sleep medication. I will deal with my bouts of insomnia as they come.

I also am conquering my insecurities towards others knowing I am a fan of Michael Jackson; a moonwalker. In elementary school (5th grade, 2009), I went through a heavy obsessive phase when he passed. I’d never heard of him, and when I listened to his music that firs time I was instantly hooked. I was ridiculed at school after I performed “Thriller” during a talent show; I had classmates going as far as saying that I must want him to kidnap and r*pe me if I enjoyed his music so much. I didn’t understand the gravity of those comments back then the way that I do now that I’m 23, but I still knew to an extent that what they were saying was in now way a good thing. I shut out his music from mid-6th grade all the way until this year. I hadn’t listened to a single song aside from hearing “Thriller” on the radio during October. For my birthday this year, I had a friend take me out of town and get away for a day. The entire time, she surprised me by playing hours of his music when in the car with her. It has since reopened that connection to his music and I’ve been listening to his songs with a fresh take, with the mind of an adult who can comprehend his words and understand finally what he’s saying for each song. As such, I’ve become more comfortable with others knowing I’m a moonwalker. You can have your opininos of the man, you can choose to believe the tabloids and junk media or make your own conclusions after assessing the details and documents of his life, but I will enjoy the same freedom of opinion.

I know this is getting pretty long, but I wanted to fill those who still might be checking up on this blog for any sort of update or spec of life coming from it in on what’s practically killed the blogs for a good chunk of time.

I do plan to slowly start doing stuff again after Halloween. I have a video made that I plan to post for Halloween and I look forward to letting Kikumi and the others be open for asks again. Until then, may the wind guide you all. I hope everyone can have a safe and wonderful rest of August. I will see you in October.

#mun #admin #mun speaks #admin speaks #update #blog update #personal #text post #tw #trigger warning #mental health #depression #tw suidice #tw depression #tw mental health #tw murder #tw murder details #tw trichotillomania #trichotillomania #anxiety #tw anxiety #tw anxiety tick #anxiety tick #anxiety tick relapse #tw r*pe #r*pe mention #bullying #tw bullying