closet potential

The ‘You’re Assuming Sexuality Based on Stereotypes’ Argument pt. 1

In many of the bi!Dean arguments floating around the fandom, people often use as ‘supplementary’ evidence for Dean’s queerness various moments in the text which show Dean doing or liking something that is stereotypically feminine. Many of the antis have taken this to mean we are using questionable stereotypes to interpret Dean as queer. However, often this critique is based on a misunderstanding of what the analysis/claim actually is regarding such moments. 

Often these textual disclosures occur in a larger context wherein Dean has previously said he’s not into X thing (which is coded as feminine) and then later on it is revealed that he, in fact, IS into X thing, and was simply putting on a front of masculinity (what many in the queer Dean meta community have dubbed “Performing Dean”) 

A non-exhaustive list of examples (GIFs not mine):

This pattern has developed into a standing aspect of Dean’s characterization. Sometimes it takes 10 seasons worth of time for Dean to admit he likes the thing. Sometimes it will happen in the space of an episode, and sometimes even within the space of a single scene. But it follows a very predictable pattern: Dean expresses distaste for the thing, and then later on he’s like, actually, I like the thing, and I was just trying to maintain the front of my own masculinity when I said I didn’t. Now, this textual pattern’s relationship to understanding Dean’s sexuality has nothing whatsoever to do with whether or not Dean likes ‘feminine’ things. That is not the issue at all. Him liking feminine things is not what matters here. What matters here is the initial denial.  

What reads as queer about all of this is the multiple interconnected patterns it establishes:

1) Dean is a character who lies and misrepresents his true feelings about what he actually likes and does not like (one of the reasons why his ‘I don’t play for your team’ declarations don’t really hold a lot of water with us) 

2) Dean is especially apt to lie about liking things that undermine his own sense of ‘proper’ masculinity (which being queer likely also would in his mind)

Our argument regarding these moments is not Dean likes chick flicks, or Taylor Swift music, or cucumber water, therefore he is queer. That simply IS NOT the argument. 

The argument is, Dean repeatedly and consistently hides and denies liking things he actually does like because those things are – in HIS mind – too feminine. This pattern of behavior is explicable by interpreting Dean as queer, given that it would explain why he has so much anxiety about these other ‘threats’ to his masculinity, petty and insignificant though they may be. Him being revealed as queer would also simply fit in with that larger pattern (i.e. he denies being into dudes, because his precious masculinity is threatened by it, and then he eventually breaks down and admits, yeah I actually do like dudes, just like I actually do like silly soap operas, and chick flicks, and Taylor Swift music, and cucumber water, and, and…)

And AGAIN, we’re not making a correlative argument that if you like feminine things (as a man) you are queer, or more likely to be queer. We are arguing that a repeated investment in hiding your actual enjoyment of ‘feminine’ things, as a man, suggests you a) aren’t always honest about what you like, and b) you clearly have some masculinity issues, which could easily be explicable by being closeted. It doesn’t automatically mean that, but those two things often are correlated (having masculinity anxiety and being closeted, as man). 

TL;DR

It’s not the liking of feminine things that suggests the queer reading. It’s the initial denial attached to liking feminine things that suggests the queer reading. And not because feminine (in men) = queer, but because anxiety about appearing feminine (in men) implies a potential closeted state (due to the false but still often operative correlation in our culture between male heterosexuality and ‘proper’ masculinity)

duel destinies would have been infinitely better (and i’m saying this as someone who thinks everything up too and including the premise of duel destinies is bad) if they hadn’t soft reset phoenix.

keep hobo phoenix a character, equalize the athena-apollo screentime and set up the final case better by having hobo phoenixs hobo ass only show up to drop foreshadowing for the finale.

hobohodo is actively investigating the phantom shit with miles in the background (versus dd phoenix just sort of being there) but he’s predictably keeping his cards to his chest about it (even from athena).

My very first post … a snapshot of my high heels closet. 3m long shot even if it doesn’t seem that long on the picture.
New pairs have been added since then to reach a total of 30 pairs of high heels pumps and more or less 20-25 knee-high and thigh high boots.
Hard to wear them all and I even sometimes forget about some or just don’t wear them anymore. One of my 2017 resolution is to clean my closet and potentially sell a few before buying new ones 😂. I guess high heels fashion is my addiction 😍👠

Frat Boy Pt. 6

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5

This is the longest thing I’ve written on here, EVER.  Not sure if that jumbled it up, but thank you to everyone for sticking around to read about this crazy frat boy, sending me messages and asks and song recs for the playlist!  This chapter’s a bit of a revealing one, and little almost imperceptible layers are chipped away. Let’s see if he’s ruing the day yet, yeah? xx (shout-out to @lovelhes for the bomb mood board, love you bb)

It was 2:54 AM by the time Renny got back.  You knew because the comfort Zayn had brought you dwindled fast with each step you took away from him, so much so that by the time you got to the doors of your building, your legs were shaking from how frantic you were.   It had been much too dark outside, each innocent bush and tall tree beautiful in the daylight suddenly twisting into something sinister, hiding a dark figure just waiting to grab you and slit your throat as you fall to the ground with a soundless shout.  Even in the grossly fluorescent hallways that seemed oddly empty for 1 am, you turned each corner quickly for fear of who’d be waiting on the other side.  Even the shut of the heavy door behind you didn’t give you peace and when you’d swept your room and checked the closet for potential predators hiding behind hanging clothes, you knew you were being silly, so absolutely ridiculously silly. But your furiously beating heart told you otherwise.  

You couldn’t fall asleep after that.  

But you pretended to as Renny got ready for bed, as she quietly tip-toed through the room, the click of her low-lit lamp as she settled under her covers once again coating the room in an inky stillness.  Her little snores comforted you in the slightest, but she wasn’t awake, she couldn’t distract you from your thoughts.  And as your eyes bore up into the ceiling, seeing past it to nothing at all, a hand lay on your throat.  

The stream that ran red, his fists, the snake tat, his touch, their smell, the men, his arms, the safety you felt in them.  It wasn’t fair, none of it was.  That he could make you feel something that felt so right and toss it in the trash like it never happened.  You had been fine with being acquaintances, safe at that distance, pretend that you wouldn’t be affected by him, but then he was the one who had to turn it into something more, to turn you into this.  You remembered your words to him and felt a deep sadness seize your chest.  You were a hypocrite.  The weight building inside you contracted into a choke-hold, threatening to crush your lungs with its deadly mixture of guilt, regret, anger, but you were too tired to release it in a sob.  So it sat there.  Refusing to let you sleep.  Suffocating you.  Silly girl, a voice sneered, All this for a boy you haven’t gone on a date with. The moan of his name in that unfamiliar voice rang loud in your head as an unwanted tear rolled straight down to hit your ear.  You willed yourself to numb your mind, to not think about anything, but when had you ever truly had control?

Sometime, in the early hours of the morning, your lids felt heavy and closed without you ever really knowing, the black cloak of the night sealing them shut as the dark twists and pangs building inside of you pushed you off a ledge, forcing your fall into a fitful sleep.

“Did you have a nightmare last night?”  You cringed as Renny took her black eyeliner and dug a little too hard with the tip against your cheek.  You thought about denying it for a moment, but decided against it.  If there was one person you could talk to, it was Renny.

“How’d you know?”

“You kept groaning and- hold on” - she licked her thumb and rubbed below the line she’d just created for the black #17 now on your cheek, smudging it up and using her nail to dig into the skin and remove the extra bits she’d accidently drawn.  She hadn’t asked to draw Harry’s number on you and for that you were thankful.  Your favorite was Louis anyways - “There, perfect. You just kept muttering something and you looked like you were shaking.  I tried waking you up, but you just turned back around and fell asleep.”

“Sorry for waking you,” you offered her an apologetic smile, but she brushed it off.

“You honestly think I mind?  I mean, I’m a little jealous you got to sleep that much, but I was the one who chose not to leave the party.”  You wanted to let out a single sharp laugh at that, but you were better.  “Paw print?”  She brought the pencil to your other cheek and paused, you nodded.  She started to draw the symbol of your school’s mascot, the panther, and for some reason Harry popped into your mind again.  Agile. Dark. Stealthy.

Deadly.

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anonymous asked:

do you have any tips/sources on how to work through your internalised homophobia? I'm struggling with that at the moment and I don't know what to do :(

theOkay, so I’m really struggling to come up with any good advice / strategies of my own except

  • look for same gender/wlw/mlm positivity and submerge yourself in it. literally. follow a ton of wlw/mlm positivity blogs. reblog their stuff. save it on your phone. make it your lock screen and background! listen to music about how good it is to be gay. put something rainbow-y in your room.
  • embrace same gender relationships in fiction! seek them out actively and when you find them, celebrate them. some shows and movies that i can think of off the top of my head that have same gender couples in them: supergirl, grey’s anatomy, eyewitness, class, the fosters, carol, moonlight, the handmaiden, the get down, skam, glee, how to get away with murder
  • talk to other lgbpq people (including online!) about your experiences with internalised homophobia
  • find out if there’s a lgbt club/bar/event in your town and go there. party and celebrate lgbt people! who knows, maybe something interesting will happen ;)
  • find same gender porn that you like (maybe start with pwp fanfic if visual porn isn’t your thing) to normalize same gender sex for yourself and get rid of the homophobic attitude that it’s weird or gross

but I found a couple of things that might be more helpful than that online:

Read more about internalized homophobia. While this topic has less written about it than say, coming out, there is still a lot of information out there, especially moving personal accounts.

Community – building a support network is absolutely essential. The compassion of other LGBQ people and straight allies can be tremendously healing. Others who are at a different stage in the process can often offer valuable insight and solidarity.

Learn about the history of the LGBTQ rights movement.  Find role models in the struggle. See all of the different identities and human beings it took to effect progress towards equality and justice.

Find an LGBTQ positive therapist, counselor or psychologist who can guide you through the reparative process.

Get away from toxic influences. This one can often be the most difficult. Typically, toxic influences include major players in our lives, such as family, religion, and friends.

If your religion is not accepting, consider leaving the church even for a time, or find a new church. If you refuse to leave, educate yourself. Refine your arguments. Learn about whether or not your religion truly teaches the immorality of gays, or if it is the interpretation of your religious leader. However, if your religious doctrine is perpetually in conflict with your identity, you may find the commitment more damaging than rewarding.

Clarify your perspectives by talking to friends and allies. Heterosexism and fear can skew our idea of the threats we truly face. For example, a person with an open-minded family, LGBTQ friends and enlightened teachers might still be overcome by crippling fear and internalized homophobia. Work to determine where you stand.

Practice self-awareness. Be aware of your negative reactions, critical self-talk and judgment of other. Each time you do it, examine the source.

If you can do it safely, come out of the closet. While it has potential to be painful, and most certainly will be repetitive and exhausting, this step can be immensely rewarding.

Try to overcome your fear of rejection.

Remember that internalized homophobia is not coming from inside of you. You are not sick, and you don’t need to be cured. It was forced upon you, in a suffocating and violent way by a homophobic society. If you have been accused of having it, or if you wonder about yourself, don’t feel guilty or shameful, just take the steps, one by one, to free yourself of this weight that keeps us all down.

from this

and this

1. Find gay friends with whom you identify. 2. It takes a while: keep looking until you find them. 3. Don’t expect your parents to “get it”, but don’t tolerate rudeness or disrespect. 4. Only date kind men. 5. Allow yourself the freedom to view all your fantasies in porn. 6. Take a sociology class and learn about the arbitrary, made up rules that different societies create about what is okay, and why. 7. Type in “love yourself workshop” on a search engine and see what comes up. 8. Care deeply about what it was like for you as a gay kid in high school. 9. Say “I love you” to yourself even though it feels ridiculous. 10. Do something that feels “too feminine,” maybe in private. 11. Avoid “friends” who put you down. 12. If you are religious, join a church that knows that gay really is good. 13. Practice coming out to friendly strangers and work your way up to telling the important people in your life. 14. Notice when you are trying to be perfect and remember: it’s futile. 15. Take small interpersonal risks every week, such as revealing something that feels slightly vulnerable. 16. Read Randy Shilts’ The Mayor of Castro Street. 17. Read Alan Down’s The Velvet Rage. 18. If you are new-agey, read Louise Hay’s You Can Heal Your Life. 19. Raise your political consciousness at a gay fund raising event. 20. Love some of your most judgmental family members from afar, rather than in person. 21. Never underestimate the power of childhood exposure to homophobia: it’s damaging, and repair will take your full effort. 22. Commit to making self-nurturing a new lifetime habit. 23. Work with a gay-friendly therapist or coach. 24. View a mean homophobe with sadness, imagining how truly scared and insecure he is on the inside. 25. Join a gay artistic, athletic, political, community service or support group. 26. Get angry about injustice: righteous anger builds self-esteem. 27. Treat other gay people especially well. 28. Be a witness to your thoughts. By detaching, you’ll notice your illogical, self-critical judgments. 29. If you live in a very conservative area, do something on this list at least once per day because you need extra support. 30. Create your own list of things you can do. Then do them.

by the gay therapy centre

and even this wikihow article!

I hope any of this helps, nonny!

The way I look at TMZ and their potential role in this is: what’s TMZ most known for? Spilling tea. Scandalous and newsworthy tea. Stories acquired by means other venues might not touch or using channels they might not have access to. What does this band have years and years worth of? Shady, corrupt, and morally reprehensible business practices that could use some spilling. Now, I can’t speak to the legal ramifications of actually laying cards on the table re: Simon Cowell or for how powerful the need is in the entertainment industry to keep dirty practices under wraps in order to keep doing business. But if any truth is going to be told, even if it’s just strongly implied truth, I think TMZ is the perfect venue to break it. It fits their MO, I can’t think of a better place to drop some explosive sordid details. I mean, they’ve already introduced the idea of the baby not being real at all today??

It’s fine by me if I’m wrong about this, honestly I just want it over, but the longterm involvement of 1D and TMZ definitely sticks with me. It could just be they’re going to break the paternity story as part of an ongoing tit-for-tat between both parties, while throwing implications out there so people reflect back on how generally shady this baby thing was after they’re out. But there’s so many stories that could be told here: fake baby, forced closeting, stunting, potential (if unlikely) lawsuits, whatever is going on with the financial situation. If they played it off as indicting Simon Cowell rather than the whole industry… And the stories they could tell would still be juicy after a coming out already happened too. They may not overturn the whole cup but I think there’s a good possibility they’re going to spill some tea.

wlwmercys  asked:

you come up to my door in the middle of a sea of children, aren’t you a little old to be trick-or-treating?? (Bellamy is 10/10 the one trick or treating)

this did not turn out the way i planned so it’s gross and fluffy and what even is a plot (i certainly don’t know) but here it is, happy halloweenie

Ao3

As far as holidays go, Clarke can’t really say she has a favorite. At this point in her life she’s had so many of them ruined by people she loves dying, exes cheating on her or betraying her that she has trouble picking a holiday she even likes- much less a favorite out of those. But so far, Halloween remains in her good graces.

If she tried hard enough, she could most likely find something unpleasant to associate with the day and officially ruin the full spectrum of celebratory occasions, but she didn’t have the energy to. In complete honesty, all Clarke wanted to do was settle down on her couch with a nice glass of bourbon and watch scary movies until she fell asleep, but her apartment building has too many children in it for that to be a viable option. So instead, she’s sitting in the arm chair she dragged across her living room to the entry way hall, waiting for people to knock on her door and ask for candy.

It isn’t what she would call a thrilling Friday night, but she’s had worse.

She sees at least four spidermen before she opens her door to find herself face to face with a very broad, very patriotic chest.

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REBLOG IF YOU THINK OUTING SOMEONE WITHOUT THEIR PERMISSION IS WRONG

 I’m trying to explain to my mom that forcing LGBT members out of the closet is wrong and potentially dangerous.
 When she found my tumblr 2 years ago, she discovered I was gay and proceeded to out me to our entire (conservative) family. I want her and others to understand that this is an unacceptable behavior.

straight people are so careless with the casual homophobia that they throw around and like … these words are meaningless to them and they don’t spare a thought to how it could affect potentially closeted loved ones. they just don’t care and it’s so selfish and so traumatizing for lgbt kids to grow up with

I tend not to argue with people online. I usually wind up really upset, and nothing really gets resolved. I take my gripes to sympathetic ears and go back to reblogging puns. That doesn’t mean that I don’t *read* the arguments back and forth, it doesn’t mean they don’t bother me. It just means that I don’t usually repost replies back and forth.

One of the arguments I see a lot is about female Space Marines. I love female Space Marines. I am absolutely on the train of believing they should exist and do exist. OCs, gender flipping existing ones, gender flipping Primarchs, reincarnation has no gender, and so on. Not everyone feels the same way, and many people wind up repulsed by the 40K fandom’s attitude at large about them.

There is nothing so disheartening, so disgusting, so discouraging as watching people debate my worth as a woman. “You’re not strong enough”. “You’re not worthy.” Oh, sure, they’re talking about a fictional setting with a fictional faction of genetically-engineered supersoldiers, but since they’ve decided men, men who could exist in reality, have the potential to become one, they’re using that same reality, presumably, to decide that women cannot. Which means they’re judging me, and people like me, as lesser.

This doesn’t even get into trans people. This doesn’t even get into a trans man potentially never being considered worthy because they were “born as a woman” (ew). This doesn’t get into a trans woman being forced to stay in the closet, potentially forever, lest her fellows consider her “unworthy” of the Primarch’s gifts (ew ew).

Nothing about the biology in 40K makes any fucking sense. Organs are not restricted by gender. Women can donate kidneys to men. Men can donate hearts to women. There are 32 factors for organ donation in the real world and sex is not one of them. Fusing your ribs would restrict your breathing. If you expanded someone’s size by so many factors they’d probably have heart failure. Adding more organs is nonsensical. What even is fucking gene-seed? And so on. Don’t use biology as your excuse.

The real reason people don’t want female Space Marines isn’t biology, it’s purity. The notion of women being a corrupting, weakening force is *old*. Very old. Old as balls– wait hang on. We talk about the virgin/whore dichotomy a lot, and it ties in with this. Men who find themselves tempted by women are weakened. They’re distracted and led to ruin. Only truly strong men, untempted by womanly flesh, may transcend into greatness. This is disgusting. Women, meanwhile, must remain pure, perfect, chaste, and still on their pedestals. “Spared” from war, untainted by conflict, that their brave knights may return to them for headpats, but only in the most platonic manner possible. Women are told they aren’t good enough to be Space Marines to keep them on their pedestals. Sure, they can be Sisters of Battle (the pure, the chaste, the space nuns). They can be Inquisitors, literally used by their superiors to incubate babies, and let’s not worry about what will happen to them after their purpose is served. They can be mothers, be victims, be left behind and aside. They are not worthy. They are not pure.

I do not accept this. I will never accept this. Women, cis or trans, can do whatever they want. If that means climbing this hill and planting a flag on it, so be it. If that means being a Sororitas because their faith is pure and their flame is purer, so be it. If that means wielding the Rosette like a sword and shield and bloody club, so be it. You will not silence me, you will not throw false biology and biased history and selective canon at me.

I will rub my grubby little feminist hands all over this setting and you cannot stop me.

Preference 51: "Me" by The 1975.

Derek: You sat in the passenger seat of Derek’s truck, staring straight ahead waiting for him to reemerge from the grocery store he’d gone into for milk. (Werewolves needed normal things, too, you know.) Before you could snap yourself out of your trance, Derek slid back into the driver’s seat, shutting the door and placing the plastic bag in the backseat. You glanced over at him and smiled halfheartedly when he look at you. “What’s the matter?” he questioned as he started pulling out of the parking lot. “Nothing, why?” Immediately, the older boy rolled his eyes. “I’m not an idiot. I know you. Now tell me what’s wrong.” Sighing, you knew you couldn’t convince him you were fine, and began confessing your thoughts. “I was just thinking,” you stated, stealing a quick glance at the built wolf. “And?” “Do you remember the first time I met you?” As soon as you finished your sentence, Derek was smiling tenderly. “Of course I do,” he chuckled and grabbed your hand, understanding what the problem was. “You tried to kill me.” “D, it’s not funny!” “I think it is. A hunter and a werewolf. Who would’ve guessed it.” “Seriously, Derek. I just– What if I actually killed you? I shot you in the shoulder. You could’ve died.” Thanks to a lengthy line of cars stopped in front of you, the truck stopped, and Derek turned to look at you. “But I didn’t.” “Do you ever wish I wasn’t a hunter?” He shook his head. “Why not?” “Because if you were I’d have to worry about you a million times more, and you know I already worry too much.” You sighed again. “Y/N, stop it.” When you threw him a confused look, he looked back at you pointedly. “Stop thinking about the fact that we could kill each other at any point. You came after me because it’s your profession, and you didn’t understand how different this town is from all the other places your family has hunted in. You understand that now.” Your face had softened as he spoke, and you squeezed his hand. A small smile playing your lips, you repeated the words he’d said. “A hunter and a werewolf. Who would’ve guessed it.”

Isaac: “Isaac, this wasn’t your fault,” you murmured to him from the driver’s seat. “I could’ve killed her,” he said, still in a slight shock as his hands clutched the sides of his head. “I could’ve killed Allison.” You’d just left school after the whole lunch detention incident, and even though he’d pulled himself together enough to get revenge against the twins, he couldn’t believe how close he’d come to seriously hurting one of his pack members. “Isaac, look at me.” He raised his eyes to see your sympathetic expression and waited for you to continue. “You remember when Allison’s mom died and she attempted a murder spree, right?” He nodded. “And in that time, she tried to kill anyone and everyone supernatural who came in her path. Because something had happened to her that drove her to the point where she wasn’t sure what else to do besides try to protect what she had left, because that’s how she was raised, right?” “Yeah, I guess.” The large boy was finally beginning to sit up straight from the slouched position he tended to take to when he thought he would be in trouble. “Now, I know you’re not going to react too much to the fact that I was indeed eavesdropping on your conversation,” you said, a small smirk reaching your lips when you saw Isaac’s eyebrows lift almost sarcastically. “Because, really, what girl would trust her werewolf boyfriend with a hunter girl in a janitor’s closet? She’s a potential threat, despite the fact that I could probably kill her with the flick of a claw if it came down to it, but I wouldn’t want to kill my pack member. Anyway. Allison went through all that, and she knew it was wrong, and it’s taken her some time, but she apologized. Isaac, the first words out of your mouth when you realized that you’d hurt her while you thought you were in danger were ‘I’m so sorry.’” Sighing, he fully looked at you for the first time since you were inside. “You’re right. But the thought that I could do something like that to anyone just by being in a small room– I could do that to you at any time.” “You seem to be forgetting that I heal just like you. And you know what? If you attacked me in a closet, I wouldn’t forgive you, because I never would’ve been mad, or upset in any way. I would know, just like Allison did, that the reaction you have to certain situations isn’t your fault. She and I both get that everyone has something that doesn’t allow them to have control, and this is yours. And I still love you, even after this.” For a few seconds, Isaac just looked at you, as if he forgot that he was supposed to respond somehow. “How am I supposed to thank you for doing that? Saying that?” Scrunching up your nose in thought, you hummed and scanned your mind for anything your might want. Already, Isaac was smiling. “You could buy me a cheeseburger. I’ve been craving one all day.” And just like that, the two of you were laughing on your way to the closest burger place.

Liam: “This shouldn’t even be a problem,” you said, running your fingers through your long hair. Scott sat by your side on Scott’s bed with Liam pacing back and forth in front of it. Lydia had just unlocked the last portion of the deadpool, and revealed that the innocent beta was among the names. Being Scott’s little sister, a freshman in the same class as Liam, you’d also been turned by Peter in an attempt to get to Scott in some way, and since then you’d become almost a second leader to the pack. When your boyfriend was bitten, you believed it was your fault for not being there to save him. And, either way, Scott and Stiles wouldn’t have been so adamant to prove themselves better than him if they weren’t so protective of you, and Liam never would have been in the hospital at all. There was nothing that could be done anymore, though, and now the new wolf was in more danger than ever. You were basically freaking out, and so was Scott– he was just a lot better at concealing it. Suddenly your mom came in the front door, and your brother stood to go downstairs and talk to her. “Liam, please,” you whispered, tears threatening to spill onto your cheeks. “Stop pacing.” When he looked at you, his eyes immediately widened, never having seen you cry or get overwhelmed with any emotions other than anger or happiness. Seeing you desperate changed the whole situation for him, and he knew he had to straighten himself out. He quickly took Scott’s place on the edge of the bed, taking your hand and tilting your head to get you to look at him. “Hey,” he muttered. “Don’t do that.” You blinked back tears, giving him a confused look. “Don’t do what?” “Cry. Blame yourself for this.” “If I hadn’t–” “Stop, Y/N.” His voice was gentle yet firm, and you knew he was serious. Shaking your head, you held back a sob as your eyes filled with tears once again. “You don’t get it, Liam. You don’t understand how much danger you’re in because of us. People are dying, and we don’t know how to stop it. You could die. This is the real thing.” Finally, you couldn’t contain your cries, and he immediately pulled you to him, one hand buried in your hair and the other on your lower back as you wept and choked out apologies. Somehow he knew that this breakdown was one that had been building since before you met him, before Allison died, before your dad returned, before everything, and somehow he knew that it wasn’t something that could be soothed with words– you needed to get it out of your system. The two of you sat like that for twenty minutes, with Scott sat against the wall outside the closed door, his head in his hands as he listened to his baby sister bawl over everything he wants to forget. When you ran out of tears, Liam held you out a few inches away from him, his hands still rubbing at your skin soothingly, and whispered the six words that would fuel both you and Scott until it was true. “We’re all gonna be alright. Okay?”

Scott: “I just ruined his life,” Scott cried as he ran his hands through his hair haphazardly. “Scott, this isn’t–” Once again, you were cut off by the panicked werewolf who’d just created his first beta. “He hates me already. He should. He can never be normal again, and he blames me for it. I blame myself. I drag everyone I come into contact with into this horrible life, and I can’t even do anything about it! Stiles, Lydia, Malia, you, I don’t get how these people stick around! I wish–” “Scott.” You stood up from your place on his bed and moved to place your hand on his shoulder. When you finally got his attention, he turned to look at you and your hand slid up to cup his face. “You just saved someone’s life,” you told him, and nodded when the alpha began shaking his head. “If you hadn’t bitten him, he would’ve plummeted to his death, without a doubt. You need to calm down. You were alone when you were turned, and you had to figure most things out yourself, and now look at you. A True Alpha, Scott McCall. Liam has so much support that you didn’t have. You are going to be an amazing alpha to him once you stop freaking out about it.” He looked at you doubtfully. “How do you know that?” Reflexively, you smiled. “Because you’re already an alpha to an entire pack, and we seem to be surviving just fine.” Your words calmed him, and he smirked at you. “I’m gonna go call Stiles,” he told you as he began to walk out of the room. Before he could turn the corner, though, you heard a few more words he uttered under his breath, clearly not for you to hear. “How the hell did I get so lucky?”

Stiles: Stiles scrambled into the Hale vault, making his way over to you as quickly as possible and helping you out of the room. When you made it outside, he held you out at arms length, then nearly crushed you in a hug. “Stiles, I can’t breathe,” you warned, your words muffled by his sweatshirt. He loosened his grasp on you a little, and you felt him sigh. When he released you, you grabbed his hand and looked up at him. “Are you alright?” He gave you a baffled look, shaking his head. “Am alright? You just went blind! You were five minutes away from dying!” He began to choke up. “Stiles, I’ve almost died millions of times,” you reminded him carefully, not quite sure why he was so on edge this time. “What’s wrong?” You reached the Jeep, and both of you got in and began the drive to Lydia’s place to discuss everything that had just happened. “It’s nothing,” Stiles muttered. “If you aren’t willing to talk about it, it’s something. Tell me.” As he tried to find a place to start, you reached into his glove compartment and pulled out a few napkins to clean your claws of the grime that had collected on them. “This whole thing,” Stiles started. “You getting bitten, and constantly being in danger. Being on the list, nearly dying every day, it’s my fault.” When you looked over at him, you found him staring straight ahead, his eyes glossing over. “Stiles, that’s not true.” “It is. If I hadn’t gotten you involved in this, if I’d just stayed away from you and kept you safe, you never would’ve become a werewolf. You would be living a normal life. But I took that from you. And I wish you would hate me for it. I wish it bothered you as much as it bothers me.” “Pull over.” “What?” “Stiles, pull over.” Slightly confused, he brought the vehicle to a stop on the side of the road. You didn’t move for a few moments, soaking in everything the boy had just told you. And suddenly you were on top of him, your hands clutching the seat behind his head. “Don’t do that,” you said, your voice low. “Y/N–” “No, Stiles. Don’t you dare try to say that this is your fault. You’re forgetting that you didn’t just fall in love with me, I fell in love with you, and all this– werewolves and kanimas and Darachs– none of it would change that. I would’ve loved you if your life was normal, and I love you while your life is insane. Minus being under attack a large majority of the time, I love being a werewolf, so don’t try to feel guilty for something that you couldn’t have stopped regardless. I would’ve found a way into this world, no matter what you did. Okay?” He looked up at you for a few seconds, just admiring how fiercely you loved him, and how beautiful you were, and everything about you, and then he kissed you in response. “Alright.”