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“They groom their witnesses too”

THIS THIS THIS THIS THIS!

I’m not naming names because I’m not trying to start anything but I’m seeing several mutuals claiming they always knew Gaiman was a bad egg and it was so obvious, as though they didn’t make me stand in line with them to get his signature and kept their signed copies of his books on a special shelf akin to a shrine.

And like, listen, you don’t need to pretend.

This isn’t the devil’s sacrament. You’re not tainted by association. You’re not morally bad for not immediately knowing when someone is being charming and persuasive to hide something they don’t want you to know.

Abusers don’t just groom their victims. They groom their witnesses too. You were never supposed to know something was wrong because it was intentionally hidden. It’s okay you didn’t know. You don’t need to act like you never liked him or his work. You don’t need to pretend. But you do need to stop being shitty to other people who also didn’t know because it reeks of victim blaming.

“Well I knew, so how come others didn’t?”

His victims were fans. Are you blaming them for not knowing?

Christ alive, I hope not.

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Someone at an old job asked why I wanted to write up the meeting minutes for our team and I said 'i wanna control the narrative' and they were like 'what' and I pointed out that no one was gonna remember what we said in six months and so my interpretation of the meeting would dictate the assumed reality of what happened

"none of you ever send corrections when I offer the draft so y'all have consented to my version"

"we don't read that shit"

"you must trust me implicitly to create our shared reality that's so sweet"

That's how several coworkers decided I was a supervillain and how I learned several coworkers didn't understand record keeping as like a CONCEPT

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neither “that’s not canon” nor “fuck canon we made this all up” but a secret third thing (canon shouldn’t be taken as gospel but is useful as a reference point for building upon and recontextualizing characters and details. if you worship the source material as unchangeable then fandom in general probably isn’t for you. if you have complete disdain for the source material you would probably enjoy yourself more in a different fandom)

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everyone is always acting like there is some crisis of human interaction with one another because everyone is overly sensitive to how strangers approach them and like. no actually its because nobody has any fucking manners. social etiquette has legitimately vanished. it makes interacting with strangers miserable because people don’t know how to fucking behave in public.

like it is rude to stare. it is rude to point. it is rude to have a loud phone conversation in a quiet place. it’s rude to listen to music or videos or whatever on your device with no headphones on a loud volume, or at any volume in an enclosed or quiet space. these are rude things to do. like i’m sorry while some etiquette is silly, an acceptable level of decorum is necessary to make existing in public bearable for everybody…….it is LITERALLY common courtesy

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shout out to my 77 year old nan asking my cousin to make her a "woke pride" shirt she can wear so conservative old people will stop assuming she agrees with them

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yes communication is important, but being in a situation where you constantly have to over-communicate every single thing in order to get listened and tended to is draining and kills romance. a huge part of intimacy and connection is feeling seen and understood by the other person – them being attuned to your needs, feelings, desires, and knowing who you are as a person on a deeper level, is a sign of love. being with someone who is thoughtless and inconsiderate and constantly has to have everything spelled out to them, will leave you feeling invisible and unloved. yes people aren’t mind readers and its good to talk about stuff but someone who just doesn’t think of you or understand basic things that would make you happy, isn’t a good partner.

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Being 30 is fun. I was discussing anime with a teen at work and asked her how much of bnha she had watched. She had trouble answering and wasn't sure how to approach it. I said "better question was who was your husbando" and she turned bright red before mumbling an answer. They never expect me to know how deep their love of anime boys runs....

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hyperfixation please stay with me long enough to complete the project. hyperfixation do not fade. hyperfixation finish what you started for the love of god

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an angel as old as the universe, a multidimensional wavelength of celestial intent wants to hold hands with his human. wants to sleep next to him even though he doesn’t even need sleep. wants to kiss him in a parking lot and make him turn a slight shade of crimson under the dim light of the street lamps. he wants but he cannot have. so he says, ‘it’s enough just to want. I am happy to just want you. And if you don’t want me that’s okay. I’m giving myself to you anyway’ and then dies.

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IDGAF if the women in my fiction are empowering or aspirational, I'm an adult, I don't need role models, I want the women in my fiction to be interesting, and if that involves being pathetic, hypocritical, amoral, or trapped in a delightfully dysfunctional relationship so be it

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huber0203

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trying to explain the spn writers situation like ok so u know the infamous buckleming that everybody bitches about? that is actually TWO people the buck and the leming are separate persons yes. no his name isn't buck it's brad buckNER. yeah and so the leming is married to. no not to the buckner. to the ROBERT SINGER. yes the. yeah the exec producer slash cryptoshowrunner. i see you making certain connections in your mind, and i encourage you to explore them. now on to how mark pellegrino fits in here

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with how many queer references Dean makes and how much Sam teases him I no longer think he's closeted at all, he's just bad at being bisexual

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This got a little long winded, so it gets its own post. The story you are about to read is based off of this poll. These are your choices.

Tommy was pretty sure he'd never felt a headache like this before. He wasn't prone to migraines, but he'd seen his mother suffer with them and this... well, this might be worse.

He squeezed his eyes shut, groaning as a wave of nausea fell over him.

It wasn't just his head that hurt. It was his whole body.

Damn, he hadn't been this sick in... well, ever.

His body shook with chills. There was a heaviness in his chest that had him turning his head to the side and choking out a hard cough.

Once he finally settled, that heaviness still there, he slowly let out a raspy breath.

Pudding.

He wanted pudding.

That was odd. He used to crave pudding as a child. Every time he got sick, he would request a pudding cup. And that's what he wanted right now.

Maybe he still had one in the fridge. He'd kept a few things there for Jee back when- Well, he had some kid foods that had been sitting in his fridge for a couple months now. Surely, the pudding would still be fine.

If only he could get out of bed.

He made a mental note to order a new mattress. This one had lasted him quite a few years, but he was definitely feeling the lumps today. It was hard and painful and poked into his back.

“God, this sucks,” he breathed out, blinking his bleary eyes open and... oh.

This wasn't right.

He wasn't at home. Wasn't in his bed.

And the heaviness in his chest was actually on his chest.

That's when the memories came flooding back to him. Going for a flight on his day off. Wanting to clear his head and get his thoughts in order.

He couldn't panic. He needed to maintain focus.

That was hard to do when his brain was all jumbled.

He remembered his phone was... somewhere.

Shirt pocket! That was it!

Carefully, and painfully, he reached up and pulled out the phone.

Miraculously, it was still in one piece. Besides a few cracks to the screen, it seemed to be working fine.

He stared at the screen. The default background that was once a picture of him and Evan.

It hurt to breathe. Hurt to think. He knew he probably didn't have that much time. Not with the way this heavy piece of metal pressed against his body.

So, with fuzzy eyes, Tommy went to his contacts, hovering his finger over the name before pressing down.

“Hello?”

“H- Hey. Long time, n- no talk.”

“Tommy? What's up? Are you okay?”

Tommy huffed out a laugh. “I... Well, that's a loaded question.”

“You sound weird. What's wrong?”

“I wanted to a- apologize to you.” With a grimace, he swallowed down what was definitely blood.

“For what?”

“For everything.”

There was a pause, then, “Did you do something stupid?”

“Not intentionally,” he deadpanned. “Listen, I- I kinda got into an accident and I...” his voice trailed off as he went into a coughing fit. The movement sent a pain shooting from his leg to his back. “Damn it!” he yelled.

“Tommy! Tommy, talk to me. What do you mean you got in an accident?”

“No, it- it doesn't matter. I just wanted t- to apologize for the way I left you.”

“You apologized for that years ago, Tommy. Tell me what happened so I-”

“Abby!” he exclaimed, the hunk of metal over him creaked as it lowered slightly. “I don't... I just need to apologize. I- you loved me, didn't you?”

“Yeah, I did. Car crash, or were you flying?”

“F- Flying. I loved you too. Not... Not the same though. Sorry.”

He could hear her mumbling something to someone else, then she was back on the line. “I'm calling 911 with Sam's phone. Stay on the line with me, Tommy. Are you in LA?”

“Mhm. Do- Don't think I made it far. Abby, listen, I didn't... I didn't mean to hurt you. I was so s- scared of- of everything.”

“Do you see anything around you? Any indicators for where you are? They're working on pinging your phone.”

When Tommy turned his head to the side, all he could see was trees. “Woods. I think. Can't see much. I was dating th- this guy.”

“Can you tell me where you're hurt? Are you bleeding anywhere?”

“Oh, for sure. But A- Abby, I didn't m- mean to hurt you.”

“Focus, please. Where are you bleeding?”

“Head. Leg. Mouth. Kinda e- everywhere. I was dating th- this guy,” Tommy sucked in a shaky breath, a rattling in his lungs. “Your guy, actually. O- Our guy?”

“Tommy, I think you're getting confused. I-”

“No, no. Evan. Buckley, Ev- Buck. Him.”

There was silence on the other end of the line.

“Hello?”

“No, I'm here. I- You're dating Buck?”

“Was dating Buck. I- I ended it. I'm c- cold.”

“Help is on the way, Tommy, just stay with me. You broke up with Buck. Why?”

“Remember wh- when we went to karaoke nights? Th- That was fun, wasn't it?”

Abby sighed. “It was, but that's not what we're talking about.”

“Wh- What was the song we us- used to sing?”

“You were a big Queen fan. I Want to Break Free. Shoulda known,” she mumbled.

Tommy laughed, but it quickly turned into a coughing fit, where blood bubbled up in his mouth.

“Tommy! Tommy, stay calm, okay. Turn your head a little so you don't choke.”

Tommy listened, spitting out the blood before he continued. “We should karaoke again.”

“I don't think that's gonna happen. Tell me about Buck.”

“Evan.” Tears filled in Tommy's eyes and he tried his hardest to blink them away. “We were t- together six months and it all f- fell apart.”

“Why?”

“He wanted... wanted me to move in. Can you b- believe that?”

“Yeah, actually, I can,” she answered. “Buck likes to attach and you're, well, attachable.”

“No. No, I'm not.”

“You haven't changed much, Tommy. You didn't seem to think you were worthy when we were together either.”

Tommy's eyebrows furrowed. Down his back he could feel the sensation of more blood dripping from his neck. “What d- do you mean?”

“The whole time we were together it felt like you were waiting for a bomb to drop.”

“That probably had to do with the whole being gay thing.”

“Mm,” she hummed. “Maybe. Don't think so though. Hang on a second.”

He looked up at the hunk of metal trapping him in place. “Nowhere to go.”

Tommy closed his eyes while he waited. He wasn't sure how much time passed, but the next thing he remembered, Abby was yelling in his ear. “-mmy! Tommy, talk to me!”

“Wha- I'm here, I'm here. God, you're l- loud.”

“And you're an ass. If I was there I'd smack you on the back of the head.”

“That would hurt,” he replied. “With the gaping wound an- and all the blood.”

“Back to Buck. Why'd you say no to moving in?”

“I own a home.”

“And?”

Tommy thought for a moment. “I- I wasn't enough for you, Abby. Couldn't be.”

“Mhm.”

“I hurt you. Didn't m- mean to, but I did. I saw- I saw it in your eyes, when I left, I... You loved me, and I couldn't... I'm sorry.”

“Is that why you left?” Abby asked. “You were afraid Buck would do the same thing to you?”

“I really...” he couldn't stop the tears now. His chest heaved in the little space it had left. “I really loved him, Abby, and I- I saw what I did to you and I couldn't. I just co- co- couldn't-”

“Okay, okay, Tommy, I need you to stay calm, okay? Listen, the dispatcher is telling me that the 118 is close to you. So you stay calm and you talk to me!”

“O- Okay.” He tried to calm his breathing the best he could, but the rattle persisted. He knew that didn't mean anything good. Each breath got a little harder, the blood continued to flow down his neck, and he was pretty sure something was sticking through his leg.

“Did you tell him how you felt?”

“He didn't... He never said it. That he loved me.”

“Did you?”

“No.”

“Maybe he was waiting on you. Did you think of that?”

“I think...” He just wanted to close his eyes. Nothing made sense, the cold feeling was fading, he was going numb. “I think I- I'm dying, Abby.”

“No! Listen to me, Tommy! They're close to you! I need you to make a noise. Let them know where you are. You hear me?! Call for help, Tommy.”

“Abb-”

“Call for help!”

Tommy groaned, more blood coming up in his throat. He managed to move one arm just enough for his hand to knock on the door of the chopper. “H- Here!” he yelled, banging on the door as hard as he could manage. “I- I'm here!”

Abby listened over the phone as the 118 arrived on scene. She could only make out bits and pieces.

“Tommy, can.... me? Talk to... There ya go! We got a...”

“What about the...”

“Hey. Hey, we're here, Tommy. Just focus on... and we'll get ya out, okay?”

“He's losing too... gotta get that off now!”

“Tommy, you look at me! We will... you just gotta promise me you'll... Promise?”

She waited, holding her breath until she heard his voice, just a touch above a whisper. “Promise.”

Things got quieter for a bit, then she heard voices again, so she yelled, “Hey! Hey, pick up the phone! Someone pick it up!”

“H- Hello?”

“Buck, is that you?”

“Yeah, Abby, it- it's me,” he answered, his voice practically shaking. “Maddie said y- you were on the line with him.”

“Is he...?”

“He's alive. We're following the ambulance to the hospital.”

“How bad?”

She could hear Buck sniffling through the line. “I don't know how he's alive, Abby,” he admitted, lip trembling. “It looks like this thing has been through a compactor.”

“And Tommy?”

"Has a gash on the back of the head, concussion, broken ribs, a pretty big piece of glass through his leg, definitely some internal bleeding. He... Chim says he should make it, but we- we barely got here in time. He might've... if he wasn't talking to you he probably...” He couldn't even bring himself to say the words.

“Hey, don't think about that now. He's gonna be fine. That's what matters.”

“Yeah.” Buck ran a hand over his eyes as he nodded. “Yeah, you're right.”

“I'll let you go, Buck, but let me know when he's stable, okay?”

“Yeah, I will. Thanks, Abby.”

“Of course. Oh, and Buck!” she quickly added before he could hangup.

“Yeah?”

“I know the guy pretty well. He loves you. He's just not great at being loved.”

“A- Abby-”

“Don't give up on him. He's worth it.” Before Buck could get in another word, she hung up.

*****

The next time Tommy opened his eyes, he was in a hospital bed.

Evan was beside him, staring down at an empty cup in his hands. Tommy figured he must've sensed the staring, because soon enough Buck was meeting his eyes. “You're awake,” he said, eyebrows rising.

“I-” Tommy cleared his throat. “I think so, yeah.”

“There's been a couple wake ups that didn't quite stick,” Buck explained, standing to grab cup of water. He put the straw to Tommy's mouth and had him take a sip. “Slowly,” he instructed. “Don't want you choking.”

Tommy took a few sips, then settled back in the bed. “How long was I out for?”

“Almost four days.”

Tommy's eyes widened. “You.. You haven't been here the whole time?” he asked. “Have you?”

Buck nodded. “Three nurses have tried to drag me out of here. All have failed.”

Tommy hoped the monitor didn't show how fast his heart felt like it was beating. “Wh- Why? Why'd you stay?”

Buck smiled, wrapping his shaky hand around Tommy's. “A mutual friend of ours told me you were worth it,” he said, his eyes glistening with tears. “I just so happen to agree.”

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Okay so here are the tags I wrote on someone else's post about Dean running up the stairs to find really real Cas in 15x19:

#so I think about this a lot. Like if the Empty was falling apart and all the angels and demons were escaping #and Cas got out too #but it was rough on him and he was torn to shreds but he came to the bunker to warn them what was happening. And Dean opens the door to #find Cas all bloody and leaking grace #and Cas doesn't deliberately fall into Dean's arms #but he collapses and Dean catches him #and brings him inside. They're on their knees on the landing #Dean propping Cas up with a hand on one shoulder and the other cradling his face. And Cas is trying to tell him something about demons but #Dean isn't hearing it. He's just all #Cas what happened to you? What do you need? How can I help? And then Sam and Jack are there so Cas directs his warning at them instead and #they at least seem to absorb it. They share a look: and we thought things couldn't possibly get worse. #And they want to help Cas too #but Dean has that task monopolized #so Sam and Jack just hover. Dean is still asking #what do you need? How do I help you? Cas looks at him softly and says he just needs time to heal. And it's a terrible lie. #Dean is all whispered streams of 'no' and Cas #c'mon buddy. C'mon. I need you. I need you to be okay. I can't. I need you. Dean is a livewire he's unwinding he's fraying apart. #He can't have Cas again so close he's holding him #can't be holding him again just to watch him die again. But there's light spilling from Cas' wounds and his eyes are going unfocused #and there's a glow between his lips like the start of an angel blazing out. #Cas. Hey. You gotta be okay. You gotta look at me. Cas. Look. #And Dean kisses him. Unthinking. Sam and Jack are there but that doesn't matter. They don't say anything. They just watch in distress. #The moment Dean and Cas' lips part Cas is staring at Dean glossy eyed. And then he laughs weak and sputtering. #Hey. Cas #you gotta tell me how to save you. You can't. No. No no no no. Dean takes Cas' hand and presses it to his chest. You touch my soul #that'll heal you up right? #Cas tries to tug his hand away. Tries to say something about it being dangerous. Dean keeps it pressed tight against him. #Cas please #you gotta be okay. I need you. I can't. I need you. Cas. #And Dean kisses him again #as if he can convince him with kisses #as if he can pour his soul into Cas with his kiss. And then a glow does begin to grow between them. Weak at first #but it gets stronger #strong enough that Sam and Jack have to look away #strong enough to white out the whole room. And when it fades #Dean is pale and breathless but alive #and Cas is healed. He stares at Dean dumbfounded. Because he didn't touch Dean's soul. Dean's soul reached out and touched him. #the end #yeah I think about this a ton