Something Something Isaac Lahey Losing His Older Brother As A Kid And Derek Hale Also Losing His Siblings,

The only two times we saw Crowley kissing something/someone was when he was losing them

Rewatching SPN is such a journey tbh.

Like Cas falls for Dean Winchester in season 4. And the writer told us we were wrong and the internet said we were wrong hell the actors said we were wrong. Being a teenager and trying to understand your own identity and watching a show you love bash its brains in. It’s watching Cas rebel against his own family, his own morals; against heaven, hell, God for one man and realizing that’s what love is. Love is brutal and broken and not perfect syrupy sweet. It’s work but not to me not if it’s you.

They made a love story without trying and mocked us to tell us we were wrong. What is love if not standing in the face of cruelty? Did they mean for it to be that meta? Love is accepting the worst parts of something and loving it anyways. The show is bad and terrible and I’ll love it until my dying breath.

Dean dies without ever saying I love you back. A man doomed to a narrative he never wanted. He wanted love and family. He died before his family and his love is ripped away. A show doomed to its worst parts of itself.

Anyways I start season 6 today :))

queer is literally a slur. like you’ve never been called that in a derogatory context like most lgbt people? you think your experiences escaping homophobia make it okay to justify the use of a homophobic slur?

queer is an identity.

it has also been used as a slur. there is no denying that. but using a word as a slur does not make it a slur. because before queer is a slur it is an identity. before it is derogatory it is a label. the use of queer as an identity is infinitely more important than the use of queer as a slur because the people who identify as queer are infinitely more important than the people who use queer as a slur.

say a lot of people decided they hated me. despised me. were disgusted by me to the point where my own name became a slur. would you tell me not to say it? would you tell me i could no longer be helena, and instead must come up with a euphemism for the name that belonged to me decades before it belonged in the mouths of bigots?

because that would make you an enabler.

you would tell me i can’t say my name anymore because some lowlife decided he could use it to insult me?

you would tell a gay man that he can’t be gay anymore because some teens in the early 2000’s started calling everything they didn’t like “gay”, and now he has to say “same sex oriented male identifying individual”?

does that enrage you? because it should. that’s exactly how you sound.

you are telling me i cannot use my label. you are telling me that when my great-uncle shouted until his face was red and he spat tobacco and the word queer at my feet, he was right. he was right to insult me, and i was wrong to say my name.

you are shitting on every single one of our predecessors. you are slandering every person who fought for their rights to exist and and be tolerated and be celebrated in their countries, every person who was lost to the aids epidemic, every person whose country criminalizes love and gender expression, every child whose parents abandoned them for straying from the norm, every person who was born and will die in the closet longing to be themselves. the queer umbrella is a safety net, a security blanket, the comfort of being known without being pressured to tell. it is near and dear and important as fuck to every member of the lgbt+ community and you are a blight upon the earth you walk.

how dare you speak upon my experiences with homophobia. how dare you disguise your own homophobia as activism. and how fucking dare you have the audacity to come to my blog and hide behind an anonymous ask and preach to me about how i’m oppressing myself. go look at the fucking wikipedia page for queer and read about how 1980s lgbt+ activists, especially lgbt+ people of color, fought to call themselves queer in a world that still hates peculiar things. and here you are forty years later spitting queer back at their feet.

i don’t give a fuck if people start using my name as a slur. my name is still helena. i will not change it. i chose it, i like it, and it belongs to me. it does not belong to bigots no matter how badly they want it. your discomfort with my identity is not my fucking problem.

i am helena. i am queer. die mad & go fuck yourself

I am completely normal about the hale family.

I’m totally not obsessing over any of the characters

Like Laura hale who haunts the narrative. Hell she’s was the creation of the narrative, her death is the reason that Scott and stiles were in the woods that night. She was a means to an end. She was an older sister. The girl who stays with her brother even after her death. We know nothing about her, and everything we do know is forever tainted by the biases of the characters that remained. The Aphla Heir, the first victim of the show. A body in the woods, a girl in a grave

Or Peter hale, who is a walking contradiction and Manipulator. He cares for his family but he sacrificed Laura and Derek (Paige) for power. He kills his niece, then later on he wants to save her (Cora). Peter who died in the house fire, all Derek was doing was putting down a corpse. Peter who died engulfed in flames in the house haunted by death and fire. Peter who knew how to bring himself back, who knew about necromancy and banshees. How young was he when he created a plan to bring himself back to life?

How about Cora?? A girl who lived in the shadow of her families death for years. Believing that she was the only one who lived. A girl who only knows how to run, who keeps her bags packed always ready to leave. It’s how she grew up. Cora who returned to her burnt out shell of a home at the mere mention of a hale alpha. Who leaves beacon hills once again but this time with her brother at her back. (Laura and Derek leaving after the fire parallel)

And last but not least, Derek fucking Hale. The man who blamed himself for the death of his entire family. Who lost everything, and despite that, got up every single day. Who never got to bury his family members, but never wanted to bury Laura. Who killed his uncle and buried him in the grave of their house, so he could rest among the rest of forgotten Hales. What’s one more grave to dig, One more family member to bury. Who helped people even when they didn’t want him to. Derek who was used and abused over and over again. Who was nothing more than a body. Someone with one foot in the grave and one on a train. He just wanted a pack again and had that taken from him as well. He leaves beacon hills, and comes back to once again help those in need. Who dies and comes back. Who drags himself with bloody fingers to a happy ending, with a son. Who takes care of a car for fifteen years as an act of repentance and love. And who still dies in a fire like the Hales that came before him.

What about Eli, whose legacy is pain, fire and death.

The hales who are tied so fucking tightly to beacon hills and to each other. They can never leave this place but they can’t stay. Nothing will ever be the same again. The fire is gone but the wood is still charred. There’s still an open grave

literally frank makes music for the messy, for all of us caught desperately and breathlessly in needing to pour it all out somewhere anywhere to someone anyone through something anything. he makes music that bleeds, music that cuts you open and spills you out on the pavement, it’s so fucking dedicated, passionate, heart and wound and healing through giving that heart and wound voice no matter how desperate, angry, hateful, mournful, regretful, full of love or despair. it’s music that thrashes you about, it’s music that makes your heart scream, it’s music that says if you need to bleed then bleed. it’s for all of us who toss ourselves recklessly against the walls of our own bodies, for all of us that need to get it out get it out get it out get it out, for all of us that need to just. fucking. do. something. even if it means wringing ourselves out of everything we’ve got. it is heart and wound heart and wound heart and wound heart and wound heart and wound heart and wound and it’s the most fucking healing thing i’ve ever heard.

🇵🇸🍉 Free Palestine 🍉🇵🇸

thought about Maddie for a second and wanted to hug someone. this woman had the worst first marriage possible with someone she once believed she loved and thought loved her back. she fought her way out of that and met her freedom. found a friend in the gentlest man, loved him and allowed him to love her in return, so much that she proposed marriage because it was worth celebrating. she had the most heartbreaking time as a child, swallowing her own grief and trying to makeup for her parents' grief to make sure her remaining brother would survive. would feel loved. then she had to stay away from him in the worst way possible, twice even, and chose to come back. chose to let him love her bigger than postcards, listen to her stories about the brother they both shared. her heartbreak in her parents became her distrust in herself and she had a beautiful baby girl who needed to be protected and cherished. of course she deserved only the good in life but what if Maddie wasn't seeing herself as good. fought an ocean, ran across states, all so she could find the good in her reflection again and hold her baby girl with the warmth that was always theirs. helped people as a nurse, watching lives saved and lost every day for years, and didn't want to be seen that way but she found newer ways to help. protected her team. protected herself. lost herself. found herself even more. there's a brilliance to her that holds the ship steady. there's a strength to her clarity to her that lowers the anchors to get off the grief's waves and walk home to hope. there's anger and joy and fatigue and beauty - all wrapped up in every day she chooses. and she's choosing to live. with it all, for it all, she chooses to live.

what is life? a never ending micromanagement hell?

my favourite ship dynamic is “me and the bad bitch i pulled by being autistic” but you can’t tell which is which