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very funny that dean is the show's most beloved, focal and polished character but somehow him turning into a demon and working for the king of hell was and incredbily forgetful arc. i don't know what he did as a demon besides day-drinking and grow out his hair
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Hello gays and lovely people! Whatever is saved in July is going to be used on mother's eyes (after 2 surgeries she'll need a third). I need to continue my anemia treatment. My back pain has become worse and more often. We both have chronic health issues and living on benefits means bills keep happening cause emergencies keep happening. We weren't prepared for this, as most of us disabled and financially struggling people aren't.
Today we paid rent, food and utensils, thanks to benefits + help, and we might need it again. Please, if you can support us in any way, any dono is appreciated.
Like said, I know lots of us struggle, and if you can't or prefer not to help, I totally get it... Thank you so much regardless, and special thanks to people who reach out with kindness. More info under the cut.
My mother is 77 years old, she struggles with things "normal" for her age... high blood pressure, cholesterol, trigliceridi, anxiety, sleeping issues, hernia on her back, skin allergies and continuos eye problems. I have a bunch of chronic shit/pain... from dermatitis to a bad knee and foot to depression, and need vitamins supplements. If you follow me you know this. That being said, between both of us we take more than 10 different medications a day.In 2024 my mother made her first surgery (cataracts) in both eyes, then in 2025 her second laser procedure in both eyes. She currently cannot see with clarity, even wearing glasses.
Our benefits + whatever I make doing odd jobs for relatives makes us around $700, where $300 alone goes to rent, and we can't pay everything with only $400.We live in Brasil, my currency is BRL (every USD means 5 BRL, every € means 6 BRL). I pay taxes over every donation (for currency conversion).
It has come to my attention that people sometimes have bad things to say about this, of people struggling and seeking help, as if people who "e-beg" do it for fun, or as if it doesn't cause us anxiety when we know something important to us depends on the kindness of someone that might not come. Yes, I have seen some posts directed at me even though they were "venting" posts. Your lack of sympathy/empathy or whatever else is your problem and says more about you than about me.
To anyone who has helped me in any way (donating, sharing, starting a conversation) thank you so much for all of it. Bless you all.
I'll gather some papers and share proof of health issues and medication.
how about an excerpt from chapter 1 nobody asked for
---
Furnace-hot, Cas moves in next to him. “Do you want me to take over so you can sit? Forgive me, but... I can see you’re in pain.”
Which sends Dean's hackles up instantly. Old habit. Bitchy one, too. Miles long resentment of people telling him what he is and isn’t capable of, based on their assessment of how he has to live his own trashfire life. “I’m good,” he bites out, clipped.
“I... Fuck.” Cas rounds down on himself, somehow both pathetic and adorable. “That was the wrong thing to say to you.”
“No. No, it’s just...” Fermented bitterness bubbling up, the toxic slime of having to defend his competence to abled-bodied looky-loos harbouring a bunch of stupid assumptions. “It’s a sore spot. I’m sorry. You mean well, but... I got this.” He offers up a placating, close-lipped smile.
Cas sighs. Nods. Doesn’t straighten out. “Let me explain. I know you’re capable. Clearly,” he says, looking around the whole room, as if Dean’s spotless kitchen is indicative of anything other than an OCD streak. “But, I’m a massage therapist, and I work primarily with people who are in pain. I know it when I see it, and sometimes I... overstep.”
Massage therapist? Dean gawks, again. What kind of wet dream is this guy? That has to be awkward as hell for his clients. Mr. Huge n’ Handsome with his gigantic mitts all over the tenderest body meats? Jesus H. Christ. “You feel people up for a living, huh?” Dean teases.
Turns out they can both say stupid things.
Cas reaches for his beer and gives him a cold (massive) shoulder. “Not that kind of massage." There’s resignation in it. Like every loser asshole he’s ever told about his work has made the same godawful joke.
“You’ve... You’ve heard that one before.” Dean, defeated, notices a splotch of oil he missed when he last sponged the stovetop.
“At least you haven’t said anything about a happy ending.” Blue eyes cut sidelong at him. “Yet.”
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babe it's me i'm just covered in dirt and blood because i had to claw my way up into the light and crawl on my hands and knees back home to you stop screaming
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