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ellieslaces · 1 month

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KISSING LESSONS.

featuring: hazel callahan x fem!cheerleader!reader

synopsis: Hazel’s worst decision was to join her friend’s fight club, until she met you. or, really got to know you, she knew you, you just didn’t know her. she never thought a cheerleader, much less one of the prettiest girls in the school, would ever pay attention to her. until you did.

content warnings: harsh language; mentions of violence; internalized homophobia; light smut; kissing (wlw); so much loser lesbianism; some homophobic slang (faggot, munch)

notes: mentions of violence (duh, it’s lesbian fight club); mentions of reader being bisexual (more toward women tho); homophobic slang (faggot, munch, etc) ; there is no real smut in this as i do not write explicit content containing minors.

word count: 3.13k

chloe talks: watched bottoms and then hyperfixated on Hazel for two weeks before I decided to write this. God, I need her so bad. Chloe has a type doesn’t she? (soft mascs make me hhnngg). hazels so fucking cute I need her to kiss me ok bye. <3 (also, I hate the way this turned out, I’m so sorry it’s terrible)

now playing: kissing lessons ; lucy dacus

Fight Club — a popular 1990’s film, that’s all those two words had ever meant to you. You’d never even seen the film, you just knew it was fucking gay, despite it not actually being about the hot topic of homosexuality amongst young men (or women, in your case). But, I digress.

It had been your friends, Isabel and Brittany, who managed to get your ass to attend your school’s resident Fight Club. A women’s Fight Club. How fucking gay. Oh well, it would teach you how to defend yourself properly. Which, in this day and age — or any day and age of we’re honest — is horribly necessary.

It shouldn’t be, but knowing how to beat the shit out of a grown man is something you should know how to do. Self defense isn’t a topic to be taken lightly, and it seemed PJ and Josie knew this.

PJ and Josie — or faggot #1 and faggot #2 as the school knew more endearingly — where the school’s resident ‘ugly and untalented gays’, as Jeff and his little crew liked to say. Really, you suspected they were all just pissed because the girls knew their way around a pussy better than any of them did. They wouldn’t know the clit if it slapped them in the face.

It had been about two weeks into the girls’ club that Isabel and Britany attended for the first time. They showed up to cheer practice the following day with busted lips and bruised faces. At first, you hadn’t known what happened. Maybe Jeff’s dramatics had finally gotten the better of him. But no, they had willingly gotten beaten up for the sake of learning how to better throw a punch.

Finally, after hours upon hours of begging and pleading, Britany and Isabel got you to attend a meeting. You had walked in, nerves wrecking your body as you trailed unsurely behind the two girls you considered your best friends. You trusted them, they wouldn’t let something bad happen.

You had planned to spend your first meeting simply observing, but PJ tried so hard to convince you to join in. She almost even pushed you into the fucking ring. When you finally conceded, you were face to face with Hazel Callahan.

You knew of her, but you didn’t know her. You’d passed her a few times in the hall, you had a science class with her. Jeff said she was another one of those ‘loud mouth munches’ — to which you nearly punched him square in the nose had he not been Isabel’s boyfriend and a complete moron.

Hazel seemed nice, she’d smiled in your direction when you walked into the gym. It was a nice gesture, no matter the awkward air it held. You felt sort of bad for putting her in the situation she was in, even though it was PJ’s fault that she now had to fight you.

You stood awkwardly, fists raised in a defensive position, eyes on Hazel as she stood in front of you. She smiled again, still awkward as it had been when you walked in. You were set on not getting the shit beat out of you.

As soon as PJ’s whistle sounded, you barely gave Hazel a chance to move. She’d shifted on her feet, sending a spark of fear through you, causing you to send a punch straight to her face. You’d gasped, watching her face scrunch up as her own hands flew up to cup her nose.

“Oh my God, I’m so fucking sorry.” You cried, stepping forward, ignoring the claps and cheers falling obnoxiously from PJ’s lips.

Hazel let out a choked laugh, brows raised as she held her nose. “No uh, nice hit. Fuck, that was a good one.” She blinked rapidly, momentarily lowering her hands.

You let out a small squeak as you saw that her nose was indeed bleeding. “Shit, your nose.” You stepped forward again, trying to find something to stop the bleeding. But of course, there wasn’t anything you had on you.

“Alright, Hazel’s fine. Let’s move on.” PJ droned, giving her whistle another sharp blow — she really abused her whistle privileges, you thought as you ushered Hazel toward the bleachers.

Hazel gave a thumbs up — her hand covered in blood that dripped from her nose — as she walked toward the bleachers. No one seemed to notice other than you as you walked with her. You felt so bad, so terrible because now this girl was bleeding because of you.

“I’m sorry,” you weakly apologized again, sitting in front of her on the bleachers, looking frantically around for something to give her to stop the bleeding.

“It’s okay, I’m okay.” Hazel shook her head, trying to convince you she was fine. Even though you both knew she wasn’t.

“Uh fuck, there isn’t anything — don’t do that.” You’d cut yourself off quick, voice deadpanned.

Hazel paused, her head half leaning backward as she looked over in your direction. Her ringed fingers pinched the bridge of her nose — it seemed she’d had the idea to lean her head back to stop the bleeding.

“Lean your head forward, not backward. If you go backwards, the blood could go into your lungs. Go forward and let it drip out.” You instructed, pulling her hand down gently by her wrist, moving to take off your cardigan so she could hold it below her face to catch the blood as it dripped.

“How do you know that?” Hazel questioned, brows pulled in a frown as she leaned her face forward so the blood could freely drip from her nose onto the bundle of fabric in her hands.

“I had to get a certificate to be able to babysit.” You shrugged, moving the strands of hair from her face without thinking about it. When you’d realized what you’d done, you froze, dropping your hand in embarrassment, muttering a sad ‘sorry’ again.

Hazel shook her head, not responding verbally to your millionth apology. Your cheeks warmed, suddenly so embarrassed for an entirely different reason. Not just for punching Hazel square in the nose, but you’d managed to embarrass yourself by noticing just how pretty she was.

Hazel sat on the bottom row of the bleachers in the gym, watching the rest of the group fight each other in turns, different girls winning. Some had busted lips, others a myriad of bruises spattered across their faces.

You took the time to notice just how pretty Hazel was — a sharp jawline that would make Jeff jealous, brunette hair that mussed in just the right way and looked so goddamn soft, her nose that was long and straight save for the small bump in the bridge that made your throat constrict. God, she really was a sight. How hadn’t you noticed sooner?

Maybe it was the fact that Hazel wasn’t in your social circle. You were a cheerleader, friends with Isabel and Britany, the focus of stares. Hazel was a loser — in the kindest and most endearing way — someone who wasn’t popular. Someone who had hardly any friends. And despite the fact that today was maybe the third time in your entire life you’d ever spoken to her, you wanted to be one of her friends.

A quick, sharp quip of PJ’s whistle brought you back to the present, her loud voice announcing the day’s session was over. You blinked, looking away from Hazel. Who somehow didn’t seem to notice you’d just spent the past five or so minutes just studying her face.

She turned to you, eyes apologetic as she held out your crumpled cardigan in her hands. “It’s really bloody, sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. You can keep it,” you shook your head, holding out your hand. It was only after the words came out of your mouth that realized how stupid that sounded. “I mean, it’s just, you don’t have to give it back. I don’t like it that much anyways. And it’ll probably stain. That sounds bad, I’m sorry.”

Hazel smiled a little at your words that seemed to stumble out of your mouth. You regretted every single one of them. You moved to take the cardigan anyway, acting as if you hadn’t told her to just keep it. But she pulled it back.

“I’ll wash it.” She said simply, standing. There were specks and smears of dried blood on and below her nose. You felt another pang of guilt then, seeing that your punch would definitely cause a bruise across her nose.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that.” You shook your head, standing as well. Isabel and Britany stood a few feet away, clearly waiting for you to come over. You didn’t want to though, for some reason.

“It’s fine. I’ll see you at the next meeting right?” Hazel asked, not relenting and continuing to hold the cardigan in her hands as she started to back away.

“Uh, yeah, I guess so.” You shrugged, somewhat embarrassed. You didn’t really want to come back. Not since you’d punched Hazel and made her bleed on your first meeting. But, maybe this would be a good incentive to come back. To see her.

“Cool,” Hazel grinned, nodding in your direction before she walked toward where PJ and Josie stood. You remained sentient for a moment, hands folded in front of your lap as you watched Hazel.

“Jesus, you hit hard.” Isabel’s voice rang in your ears as she and Britany approached, the latter’s eyes wide as she looked at your hand.

“Might want to wash your hands,” the girl motioned to your dominant hand — the knuckles were spotted in blood from where you’d punched Hazel and blood had immediately started to pour from her nose.

Your eyes latched onto the specks of blood on your knuckles, brows creased as you stared. Bright, rusty red adorned the skin of your knuckles, bits of Hazel Callahan’s DNA there. It was strange, but it made you smile.

The attendance of the fight club had steadily grown — girls coming to the gym after school to brush up on their combat skills. All in preparation for the upcoming football game against Huntington. The fear ever since one girl had gotten attacked by one of the boys and word had gotten around about it.

So, attendance had spiked, the ‘female solidarity’ — as PJ liked to call it — had risen in the school, even the girls were kinder and nicer to one another. And your mind was muddled with constant pictures and thoughts of Hazel Callahan.

It was confusing — you’d never felt such a strong connection to someone you hardly knew. Hazel was as much a mystery to you as the rest of the ‘ugly, untalented gays’. Meaning she was a huge fucking mystery. Sure, you were vaguely aware that her parents had divorced, and that the girl mostly kept in the background in school. But other than that, Hazel was purely mysterious to you. And you found yourself wanting to know more.

To remedy thhs, you continued to attend fight club, naturally. Yes, you shared a class or two with the girl, but nowhere else did you have the chance to actually interact with her. To converse with her, hear her voice, see her smile. God, what a loser you were.

It wasn’t until two weeks later that you’d come to realize how disgustingly and embarrassingly obvious your infatuation with Hazel was. And what made it worse — it was PJ who brought it to your attention.

“Yo!” PJ’s obnoxious voice rang through the gym as you stood in the circle with the rest of the girls, watching Silvia and Brittany spar, your name on the girl’s lips as she spoke. “Quick eye-fucking Hazel and pay attention! Huntington is like, two weeks away.”

Your cheeks flamed a bright red as you sunk into yourself, shoulders curling in. God, you wanted a chance at PJ in that ring to strangle the fuck out of her for that. Your eyes quickly cut over to where Hazel stood — her own cheeks dusted with light pink as she avoided your gaze.

Great, now she probably wouldn’t talk to you at all. Fuck PJ and her obnoxious, loud mouth. Your embarrassment was not short lived as the fight club went on. You couldn’t look in Hazel’s direction at all as you waited out the meeting until its end so you could retreat with your tail between your legs and never show your face in this gym again.

It was as you shouldered your backpack, heart still racing, stomach still uneasy with embarrassment that you heard someone clear their throat behind you. You turned, eyes going wide as you were face to face with Hazel. Your eyes trailed down to a bundle of fabric in her hands.

“Sorry it took so long, but uh, I got the blood out.” She held out what turned out to be your cardigan. The cardigan that you’d leant her two weeks ago when you’d punched her too hard.

“Um, you didn’t have to do that.” You said, offering a sheepish smile as she held out the cardigan. You gingerly took it, eyes locked on Hazel’s face. As you grabbed it, you swore you could feel a spark when your fingers brushed against hers. A fucking spark — cliche but true.

It was silent between you two for a moment before Hazel shook her head, jutting her thumb over her shoulder. “Sorry about PJ. Things kind of come out of her mouth without her brain processing first.”

Yikes, Hazel meant the ‘eye-fucking’ comment. You offered a small, horribly obvious chuckle. “Yeah, I kinda noticed.”

There was another long stretch of silence between you and Hazel, your lips pulled to the side as you held the folded — she’d fucking folded it, Jesus she was adorable — cardigan in your hands. It was strange, but not too uncomfortable. Like that stupid thing from Pulp Fiction, the right person is someone that silence isn’t awkward with.

“I wasn’t eye-fucking you.” You blurted. Great, you made it awkward again. A small groan fell from your lips, head dropping as you closed your eyes with a frown. You shook your head. “Sorry, I dunno what’s wrong with me today.”

“PJ’s just jealous.” Hazel offered with a small laugh. How could one solidarity laugh sound so beautiful?

“Of what?” You asked gingerly, looking up to meet her eyes. For some reason, you were weary of her answer.

“That you aren’t giving her attention. Besides, I don’t think she’d know what to do with your attention anyway, you’re so pretty.” She said it not as an insult to PJ — or at least it didn’t sound like it — but more as an obvious fact. And you were stunned because Hazel had just called you pretty.

You were at a loss. A true loss. How the hell were you supposed to respond to that? So, like an idiot, you just stared at her blankly, eyes confused and wide.

Her own eyes went wide, brows furrowed as a worried look crossed her features. “Shit, was that too much? Too much. Fuck.” Her voice lowered as she cursed, brows knit together.

“No! Not too much, I just… I just didn’t think you thought I was pretty too.” You shrugged, quick to correct her. Quick to reassure that you were flattered and not weirded out.

“I mean yeah, of course I do.” Hazel nodded, her voice soft, words intentional like her statement was an obvious fact.

A smile spread across your face, cheeks warm again. You weren’t sure why, but you suddenly felt so much about Hazel. You’d never had a crush on a girl before. It was new and strange, but you definitely thought this was a crush.

“Thanks.” You whispered, eyes darting down to the cardigan in your hands for a moment before going back to looking up at Hazel. “For the compliment, and bringing back my cardigan. You didn’t have to wash it.”

“It’s fine, I wanted to. It’s a nice cardigan.” Hazel shrugged. It seemed she was at a loss for what to say around you too.

The gym was near empty by now — Josie and PJ chattering away in the far corner, and Isabel and Brittany waiting for you (but not paying attention to anyone but themselves) by the gym doors a few feet away.

So, due to the empty state of the gym and the disgustingly thick tension between you and Hazel, you stepped forward, pressing a quick and gentle kiss to her cheek.

This took the girl by surprise. Her eyes went wide as your lips pressed to her soft cheek. You leaned back, her brows creased as she watched you.

“Thanks,” you said again, with a shrug. Letting her know that was your way of thanking her. Small, but meaningful to you.

It was a long moment that you stood there, Hazel staring at you with wide eyes. For a couple of long seconds, you thought you’d fucked up. Misread the situation, mistook the tension for something else. But, you were proven wrong as she leaned forward, closing the distance between you by pressing her mouth to yours.

“You’re welcome.” She murmured as she leaned back, your eyes wide now from processing that Hazel had just kissed. That you’d just had your first girl-kiss. Fucking scary, but nice. You liked it. Liked her.

“I’ve never done that.” You whispered, blinking rapidly to ground yourself. “With, with a girl, I mean.” You corrected yourself almost instantly.

You’d kissed a guy or two before. Sadly, your first ever kiss was Tim at the ninth grade freshman dance. He was a bad kisser and you hated it. But, you liked how Hazel kissed. Despite it being a quick peck, it was full of intention and it was gentle too.

Hazel shrugged, a small half smile forming on her lips. “Maybe I can give you lessons.”

You grinned, laughing a little as you nodded, backing away toward the gym doors, needing to escape before you said anything else stupid. “Yeah, that’d be nice. I’ll send you my address.”

“Okay,” Hazel nodded, grinning widely to herself as you mentioned her coming over.

You almost skipped as you walked out of the gym, trailing behind Isabel and Brittany as the girls chittered away, the prospect that Hazel would be giving you fucking kissing lessons. You held the bundle of fabric close to your chest as you walked to your car. And it was then you noticed it smelled like Hazel. The detergent, obviously. But, there was something else that was just Hazel. And you never wanted it to go away. Maybe, you could wear it while she gave you kissing lessons that night.

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qqueenofhades · 10 months

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Good Omens Season 2: Some Thoughts (and also Screaming)

First, /screams

Second, obligatory disclaimer that this meta contains MAJOR SPOILERS for all six episodes. If you somehow have managed to remain virginally unspoiled, look away now, scroll past, or add "good omens s2" and "good omens spoilers" to your block list, as those are the tags I have been using for all posts and reblogs.

Third, /screams more

Okay okay okay. Deep breaths.

Anyway, so, uh, how about all that, huh? First, the good thing about the tone of the season overall was that it felt considerably darker and more adult, in a good way. We didn't have the precocious kiddies, the kitsch and literally-comphet Anathema and Newt, the so-clever narration, etc. All that was gone, which makes sense when you consider that a) the end of last season saw them reboot into an entirely new universe, and b) the fact that God has gone silent is, in fact, a major plot point for the season. We don't have Her slyly telling us the story, or indeed anything, and everyone is left to make their own judgments and take their own actions. Which, obviously, gets them into a lot of trouble, especially when Metatron (the Voice of God, aka someone acting in the belief that they're speaking for God and therefore doing terrible harm) swoops in with the ultimate buzzkill at the end of episode 6. But we'll get to that.

The downside was that the main, present-day plot (hiding Gabriel in the bookshop and trying to get Nina and Maggie to fall in love) was fairly thin, felt stretched out and at times weirdly paced, and otherwise existed mostly to get us to That Ending and the setup for season 3. But the ending was so damn good (if obviously, very painful) that I can't be TOO mad, not least because we spent six episodes with them just making absolutely no pretense about the whole thing being as incredibly homosexual as possible. I'll be honest: I did not think they were going to actually, explicitly go there. Neil Gaiman has been so consistent about "your interpretations are valid and you're welcome to read it however you want, but the only canon is what's on screen," which I think is frankly a good thing (not least since the Neil GAYman Cinematic Universe is consistently very, very good to us queers), that I just... didn't quite think they'd pull the trigger. Sir Terry is dead and can't have active input, this is based on a book published 30 years ago, maybe they didn't want to make it LIKE THAT... etc. I certainly hoped, but I didn't really think they would.

Uh. Well.

As I said in my various semi-coherent liveblog posts, I honestly don't think there was a single straight person in the entire season, among both major and background characters. Aziraphale/Crowley and Maggie/Nina are the obvious paralleling couples, but Beelzebub (using "they" pronouns and addressed as "Lord" despite presenting as femme/femme-adjacent) is clearly nonbinary and therefore also queer, and the countless gay/queer side characters were just /chefs kiss. From Job's son making a sassy pass at Aziraphale, to the random Scottish goon with Grindr on his phone (which he then gives to Aziraphale, because what is subtlety), to the interracial couple with the trans spouse at the Pride and Prejudice ball, there was just a lot of casual, unremarked, non-story-critical queer representation visible at every turn. It's like the NGCU saw the bigots wailing about Sandman season 1 being extremely gay and went CHALLENGE ACCEPTED, LET'S MAKE GOOD OMENS 2 EVEN MORE GAY.

God bless.

Obviously, Jon Hamm as Amnesia!Gabriel stole the show (he was SO fucking funny) and it was also incredibly fun to watch Miranda Richardson repurposed as a scheming demon. Nina Sosanya also reappeared as Nina the coffee shop owner, which leads us into the Maggie-and-Nina subplot. They're obviously, wildly, incredibly clearly an analogue for Aziraphale and Crowley themselves, but they're also each, crucially, a mix of both. On the surface, Maggie is Aziraphale: the plump, blonde, earnest, sweet-natured one owning a slightly dated book music shop and somewhat clueless about emotional nuances, while Nina is (also on the surface) Crowley, the hard-edged dark loner who doesn't want to open herself up to people or be spotted caring. But emotionally, Maggie is Crowley: the one openly pining, clearly besotted, only wanting to hang around their crush and do whatever they can to make themselves useful, while Nina is Aziraphale. Interested but reticent, attracted but conflicted, trapped in an abusive relationship with a demanding offscreen "lover" (Lindsay/Heaven) who tries to constantly control and shame them without ever offering much, if anything in return. By the end, they bring themselves around to what Maggie/Crowley are offering, but by then, well. We've got a lot more problems on our hands.

As I also said in my earlier posts, this entire thing has always been a metaphor for religion, queerness, and what religion -- especially abusive, fundamentalist, organized religion -- does to queer people, but they really cranked the FUCK out of that metaphor this season. Aziraphale is guilt-tripped, controlled, and shamed for his attraction to Crowley at every turn. He is torn between his imagined duty to Heaven, in all its ignorant, uncaring, bureaucratic, gratuitously cruel system that he still insists on seeing the best in because he can't bear the alternative, and the chaotic and sometimes grey but genuinely more good morality that Crowley offers him. (Can I just say, we were explicitly shown that the two of them together doing "just a little miracle" are more powerful than Heaven AND Hell combined.) And at the end, he's told that the only way he can be with Crowley -- what Metatron explicitly blackmails him with -- is if they both go back to heaven, submit themselves to the cruel system again and give up everything that has made them who they are: their home in London, their human friends, their reliance on each other, their independence, their own ways of doing things. You can be queer in this (religious) framework, but only the limited, watered-down, controlled, controllable, constantly-under-supervision kind of queer, which relies on both you and your lover "converting" back to the true faith. And if you don't cooperate, they will literally kidnap you, lie to you, manipulate you, take you from your soulmate, and force you right back into doing the one thing (destroying the world) that you never, ever wanted to do in the first place, because in their minds, that is still better than this. It's for your own good.

Ouch.

And the thing is: that's why the ending a) hits so hard and b) is so fucking painful, because of course Aziraphale agrees. He has no conception of being able to defy Heaven on his own; he has always, always needed Crowley for that. In the flashbacks, when Aziraphale is faced with an order from Heaven that he desperately does not want to carry out (such as letting all Job's children get killed), he still relies completely on Crowley to "outsmart the rules" and find a better way. Crowley is A Crafty Demon; that's what he does, and so Aziraphale rationalizes it to himself that therefore that must be fine. Even in season 1, when he really didn't want the Apocalypse to happen but initially thought it was his duty as a good Heaven footsoldier, he relied on Crowley to talk him out of it and allow him to do what he really wants instead. That's their whole dynamic in a nutshell, as exemplified in that scene in episode 2, where Crowley tempts Aziraphale with the "pleasures of the flesh" while sprawled on his back in Ravish Me mode like the giant walking gay disaster that he is. (Sorry, buddy. That beard. Can't do it.) Everything that Aziraphale's existence is, that makes him who he is, that he loves and cherishes the most (in this case, food and wine) comes from Crowley. Everything else is just background noise.

Throughout the season, what we see is Aziraphale increasingly coming around to the fantasy of being with Crowley. He's coy and flirty; he talks about "our car" and expects Crowley will let him (which he does); he wants to have a Jane Austen ball and for them to dance together (oh my heart); he even thinks, at the crucial moment, that the best way for them to be together is to go back to heaven just like they were in the beginning, once more perfect angels, as if those entire six thousand years of struggle and grief and pining and separation and falling didn't happen. And Crowley -- poor, poor, brave, devoted, heartbroken Crowley -- has just heard for the first time in said six thousand years that actually telling the person you love how you feel is an option. Maggie and Nina tell them point-blank that their whole stupid plan failed because people aren't chess pieces who can be moved and automatically achieve the desired result. And of course this gobsmacks the dearest and dumbest Ineffable Husbands, because they can't conceive of anything else. People are chess pieces in the Great War of Heaven and Hell; Aziraphale and Crowley themselves are chess pieces who have been desperately trying to get out of being moved by external forces, but that doesn't change the fact that that's what they are. They don't have volition or agency aside from that which they can sneak for themselves in brief and stolen moments. That's it.

Until, well. It's not it. They discover that this whole would-be war is actually an elaborate ruse to cover up another angel-demon romance, that of Gabriel and Beelzebub. (I'll be honest, I'm 99% sure they did this storyline because they saw the fans crackshipping them, but I appreciate a fictional narrative that values and incorporates its fans' input, rather than trying to constantly "trick" or "outsmart" them or "do what they don't expect.") And Gabriel and Beelzebub get to be together, but only by leaving their world forever. They have to desert their homes, their structures, even their own identities, and never return. And Crowley and Aziraphale are so rooted in their "precious, perfect, fragile" life in their little corner of Soho, with their bookshop and their Bentley and their dining at the Ritz (which they didn't get to do in the end because METATRON /shakes fist), that that just doesn't work. Neither of them can conceive of doing that. So Aziraphale thinks "go back to heaven and try to make the terrible system do some good and take what we can in terms of being together" and Crowley just... pours out his heart. He's ready to fucking propose. He barely stops himself from saying something to the effect of "I want to spend eternity with you." He begs, he pleads with Aziraphale to go away not in the literal sense, but the emotional/metaphysical: to finally break this toxic dependence on Heaven and tell them once and for all where to stick it. And because he is desperate to make Aziraphale understand, he finally throws all caution to the winds and recklessly, desperately, adoringly kisses him, the one thing he's wanted to do for ages and...

Gets. Shot. Down.

Ugghhhhh. I'm suffering all over again. Aziraphale wants him, hungers for it, for them, and yet he's been so abused and so conditioned by Heaven (he's still blithely repeating to Crowley's face that "Hell are the bad guys!") that he just cannot accept that kind of desperate, blind, limitless, lawless affection. He even forgives Crowley for this "transgression," just to really twist the knife, and Crowley just can't take it, can't face up to how terribly this has all gone up in flames, after he went to heaven trying to find the answer for Gabriel's situation. Gabriel, who he fucking hates. Gabriel, who tried to kill the angelic being he loves (and for which Crowley has transparently never forgiven him). And yet at one pouty puppy-eyed look from Aziraphale and a warning that whoever is harboring Gabriel might be in danger, Crowley leaps headlong into the Bentley again and rushes to the rescue while "Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy" is blaring. He stoutly protects Gabriel; he does a miracle to disguise him; he lets him have hot chocolate and stay in the bookshop; he guards him from the literal demonic horde outside. All because of Aziraphale. That's it. And then, it still doesn't work. Not only that, Gabriel's absence and decision to forego Armageddon gives Heaven the one tool they finally need to take Aziraphale away from him.

I repeat: Ugghhhhhhhh.

(In a good way. Ngl, I love this angst. This is the kind of angst my brain Thrives on, the Thematic Parallel Romantic Character Arc kind. Nom nom nom. But also: AGONY.)

I also need to talk about Aziraphale driving the Bentley, aside from the obvious metaphor of him being in Crowley's home while Crowley is in his. Last season, we had the "you go too fast for me, Crowley" scene with them sitting in said Bentley, which was Aziraphale saying he's not ready for a relationship. In this season, as noted above, we see Aziraphale increasingly embracing the potential fantasy of being with Crowley. But here's the catch: when he's in the Bentley this time, driving it, setting the pace, acclimating to the idea, he's driving his own idea of what the Bentley/his relationship with Crowley is. It's not the real thing. He plays classical music; he supplies himself sweets; he turns it yellow; he drives too slow. Crowley calls him in another old-married-couple snitfit to complain that Aziraphale's messed it up, but what Aziraphale has actually messed up (or will, by the end of the season) is far more consequential than just a car. He's changed the entire shape of their relationship to the one he thinks can make it work, and it just doesn't. It has to be them -- "we could have been... Us" -- or it's not even close to the truth. It's not worth their time.

I repeat: Ouch.

Speaking of the writers validating fan theories, I know we all picked up and screamed about on Crowley's idea of Peak Romance Guaranteed To Fall In Love being sheltering from rain and gazing into each other's eyes, which confirms that that poor bastard was indeed ass-over-teakettle gone as soon as he met Aziraphale (again) in Eden. I also need to talk about the 1941 redux, because wow. This time, the danger comes from Hell, which we see being its usual self: gleefully, pointlessly cruel, pettily backbiting, dirty, sniping, tedious, endless, determined to mindlessly destroy because They're The Bad Guys and they like it. So they blackmail, spy on, miracle-block, illicitly photograph, and try to prove that Aziraphale and Crowley are secretly a couple, right after Aziraphale himself has just had the Light From Heaven realization that he's in love (which we all also picked up on in s1). They're forcibly outing them (to speak of more Religious Queer Trauma) in order to break them up/get them into trouble with their authorities/families. Aziraphale and Crowley manage to escape it mostly by dumb luck, but Crowley having an altogether freakout, hands shaking, barely able to actually point the gun at Aziraphale even in the knowledge that it's supposed to be fake, is just... wow. He can't even fathom the idea of ever trying to destroy him in earnest, especially when he knows on some level that Aziraphale also finally just realized his own feelings. So I just need to --

/screams

Anyway, Aziraphale's entire arc this season is doing what he thinks is the right thing and then inadvertently causing harm and damage as a result. In the Edinburgh flashbacks (live slug reaction of me: SEAN BIGGERSTAFF???!!) he tries to stop Elspeth from stealing bodies and gets Morag killed and Crowley drinking the laudanum to save him (though that part with David Tennant just riffing left and right, using his natural Scottish accent, and being Tiny Crowley/Huge Crowley was hilarious). He invites his neighbors to a Pride and Prejudice ball and makes them all the target for demonic attack. And of course the Job episode: Aziraphale, horrified at Heaven's callous cruelty, desperate not to get Job's children killed, willing to go along with Crowley's tricks to save them somehow, tempted by Crowley to do the fucknasty with their angel bits eat some food and decide that he likes it. As mentioned, the whole thing about God being silent this season is a major thematic choice. The only time we see/hear God is Her communing with Job from afar. Aziraphale enviously imagines the answers he must be getting (he's not, he's baffled and perplexed), while Crowley longs beyond words to even have the opportunity to ask the question: why? Why do this? Why is this your plan?

And of course, this absence culminates in the Metatron, the Voice of God, the person arrogantly claiming that they're speaking for God and know exactly what Heaven wants, being able to seize Aziraphale by the short hairs and absolutely fuck him over. Gabriel is gone/decommissioned/eloping with Beelzebub, so Heaven needs a Supreme Leader (God apparently is no longer a factor in the equation). And what this Supreme Leader needs to do is finally unleash the Apocalypse that Gabriel decided to pass on (the Second Coming). Aziraphale needs to be punished, taken away from Crowley's influence/love, and put back under Heaven's explicit control, so Metatron spots a great opportunity to do all three at once. It's not an accident that the exact tool he uses to get Aziraphale to agree is "now you can actually be with Crowley!" Aziraphale and Crowley have been trying so hard to hide out from their respective Head Offices, but now all at once, there's this seemingly miraculous opportunity for them not to have to do that anymore! They can be together! They can be sanctioned by Heaven! They can give up all this hiding and sneaking around and lying! Isn't that better?

... As long as, of course, they give up absolutely everything that makes them who they are. No big deal. Minor catch. Probably nothing.

Metatron doesn't let Aziraphale have time to escape, or think it over, or reflect, or anything. He pressures Aziraphale to come with him immediately, or be once more subject to Heaven's implicit wrath/destruction/judgment. Believe me, Aziraphale already KNOWS he's made a huge mistake, as soon as he hears what Metatron really wants: bringing him back to unleash the Apocalypse that Aziraphale and Crowley have given up literally everything to prevent. He doesn't need time to reflect. By the time my man is in that elevator, he's well aware of what a catastrophic misjudgment he's made, and yet --

Aziraphale needs this. He has, as noted, literally always relied on Crowley outsmarting Heaven's cruel orders in order to prevent himself from having to do them. He's relied on Crowley rescuing him ("rescuing me makes him so happy," WELL BUB, IT'S BECAUSE YOU ALWAYS NEED IT). He admits to Crowley's face that "I need you!" He hates Heaven's sadistic meanness, but he has absolutely no framework, in and of himself, to defy it. When the rubber hits the road, he will crumple and try to go along with it, and now he's been put in a position where he's going to have to stand up, defy Heaven, and make the break once and for all BY HIMSELF. He doesn't have Crowley around to do it for him, he has no support, he is going to arrive in Heaven and be shuttled straight off to the Apocalypse 2.0 War Room. The only way he gets out of this is if he actively stands up, if he chooses himself and Crowley and their life, and he has to.

The thing is:

Aziraphale has lived his entire eternal existence Looking Up. Up is the direction of Goodness and Heaven. Up is where Angels go. Up is where Aziraphale comes from and where Demons and Hell are not. But now he's going Up, in a position to take over the whole shebang, and it's the last thing he wants.

So he's going to have to come back Down.

He's going to have to Fall. He's going to have to get back Below at all costs. He's going to have to finally, once and for all, understand what led Crowley to make the choice to leave Heaven and never come back. It's only then that they can possibly be together on any kind of conscious, equal, deliberate footing, claim their own agency, reject Heaven AND Hell, and try to really earn that South Downs cottage and that happy-ever-after, and it's gonna hurt so good.

Now if you will excuse me, /screams

#good omens #good omens meta #good omens s2 #good omens spoilers #ineffable husbands #look this probably could have been twice as long #but i had to stop somewhere #I JUST HAVE A LOT OF FEELINGS

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sergeifyodorov · 6 months

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hkyblr babygirl of the year tracker

2021-22: cale makar. conn smythe winner. norris winner. perfect rosy cheeked boy. this was when we all decided the avs were Great! and they had a really good cup run so everyone flocked to the standout (cale)

2022-23: matthew tkachuk. hart nominee. conn smythe failure. traded in the summer and basically drove the entirety of the panthers to their playoff spot (after which he and bobrovsky took em to the cup final). further accelerated by the inexplicable arrival of mainstream mattdrai (possibly due to the penguins' downfall and the lessening popularity of sidgeno).

2023-24: currently a very close race.

POTENTIAL CANDIDATES

connor mcdavid. currently in Girl Failure mode (although short trends suggest he might be So Back) as the oilers are burning down (or maybe So Back)

quinn hughes. currently in Beloved Child Of God mode (named captain. new girlfriend. unreasonably high on-ice shooting percentage)

marc-andre fleury. already beloved, but this kind of is his swan song year. used it to stand up to the nhl's bullshit

jeremy swayman (accusations of homosexuality + mustache)

mitch marner (always on this list let's be honest)

#connor mcdavid #mitch marner #quinn hughes #cale makar #matthew tkachuk #marc andre fleury #jeremy swayman #we should put nikita kucherov on this list. do we not want to fuck with the creepy eyes or

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the-hoziest · 26 days

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my lover's the sunlight [ao3]

Tommy does not giggle. But the noise that comes out of his mouth very much sounds like a giggle. “Christ, Evan, you can’t say that. People don’t turn gay.”

“Maybe that’s true, hey, I don’t know,” Buck is grinning from ear to ear. He’ll continue with this line of bullshit if it’ll get Tommy laughing again. “But I maintain that’s what happened with us. Maybe you didn’t ‘turn me’ −” He adds, using his free hand to make air quotes as he talks, while the other is enjoying holding Tommy’s hand across the table, their fingers intertwined, “− but you definitely did something.”

Tommy’s shaking his head, but the look in his eyes is so fond. Buck can’t tear his gaze away. His cheeks are starting to hurt because he can’t stop smiling but he doesn’t care.

“Yeah. I kissed you.”

“Exactly!” Buck gestures enthusiastically. “Turned by a kiss. Like a vampire bite.”

Tommy laughs again, then leans closer over the table and lowers his voice before he speaks. “I know you’re joking, and I love it, I do, but can you consider the fact that we are in a queer space right now?”

Buck’s face falls. He glances around to see if anyone’s overheard them, wondering what it is that he got wrong. “Are vampires... homophobic?”

“No, that’s not − oh, good God. Come here,” Tommy pulls his chair around to get closer to his boyfriend and grabs him by his neck and pulls him close to shut him up with a kiss. When they break apart, breathless and with kiss-swollen lips stretched ear to ear, Tommy finally says, “For your own sake, don’t go around telling people that homosexuality is some kind of... infectious thing. Okay?”

As usual, it takes Buck a moment to realise that he has once again unintentionally put his foot in his mouth, when all he was trying to do was joke around with his boyfriend.

“Oh. Okay, yeah. Shit.”

“There we go.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Tommy puts his hand on Buck’s cheek and plants another quick kiss on his mouth. “To be honest, I am feeling a little bit...” he trails off with a breathy exhale.

Buck is on the edge of his seat.

“What?”

Tommy shrugs. “Smug?” he mumbles. For the first time since they met, Tommy actually looks slightly embarrassed.

Buck barely hears him over the loud music thumping from the speakers overhead, but he hears him alright, and his face splits into a grin. “What, about turning me?” he teases, knocking his knee against Tommy’s under the table. “That’s so misguided, Tommy. People don’t turn gay.”

Tommy closes his eyes and sighs, feigning exasperation. “What am I gonna do with you, Evan?”

Buck leans in even closer, brushing his lips across Tommy’s jaw, kissing his way to whisper close to his ear, like sharing a secret meant only for his boyfriend. “I have some ideas, actually.”

#bucktommy #kinley #buck x tommy #evan ''i have no mental filter'' buckley x tommy ''my type is lovable dork'' kinard #hi im new pls be nice 😇#dailykinley #my writing

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its-tea-time-darling · 9 months

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is the mole interest renaissance the time we can finally talk about the 5 minute 34 seconds long scene in goncharov that’s just a shot of a mole digging around the earth?

because honest to god i am TIRED of that scene getting brushed over just bcuz there’s none of our favorite repressed homosexuals in it. like can you IMAGINE the guts it took to pack a scene like that into a mafia movie??

and honestly at the time people picked up on the themes that scene was really hammering home—the fact that we all return to the earth after our deaths, no matter how good or vile of a life we lead was so indulgently shown by having that mole plow through the dirt of those 13 fresh graves on the naples russian cemetery.

and it doesn’t matter that we don’t know who lies in those graves. what matters is the transience of human life in the wake of nature—incorporated stunningly by that one, lonely

mole.

retelling of the mole scene on ao3

#mole interest #goncharov #unreality #< goncharov isn’t a real movie i just made this scene up #mole interest however is a very real trending tumblr tag #see top post in the tag for the origin #mine

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fatsillykewn · 4 months

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That Panderverse hug drives me so crazy. Cartman was so scared of being separated from his Kyle forever he had to hug him in front of half the goddamn town the minute he returned? Kyle pretending he's annoyed but letting it happen, like always?

Why were there only two adults shown paying any attention to this, and one of them was town closet case Stephen Stotch, and the other was Kyle's homophobic dad? And they both look like they think this is a sus as fuck interaction? That was A Choice I need to talk to Mattrey about 😂

YES!!! This hug drives me insane!! There’s so much to uncover with this one- I feel this specific interaction between Cartman and Kyle says a LOT about their friendship/feelings/dependancy/obsession with how far they have come over the seasons.

Cartman’s true, honest to god, unfiltered reaction coming back to his universe, dialing down and putting all his focus and energy onto Kyle, the way he RUNS so so so quickly into Kyle’s arms like his life depends on it, not caring one second about anyone else around, UGH!! This is truly his “war is over” moment in my eyes, sure Cartman and Kyle’s back and forth situation may be the sub-plot to this special, but my god that boy was HAPPY to see and feel and grasp HIS Kyle at last 😭🙏

And yes, like always, Kyle just letting it happen, letting Cartman fall onto him in that hug, letting Cartman be happy in the moment. It’s so painfully obvious how Kyle pulls this pretend annoyance 🤣 every single time. He gets so sassy, an eye roll, looking at anyone else but Cartman, yet still letting Cartman relish in his return. If Kyle truly didn’t know which Cartman was hugging him, Kyle would have shoved him off!! Kyle was so relieved, I know it, that his Cartman was back and things would go back to normal. He was- unsurprisingly- so uptight and stressed about Cartman the entire special 🫶

Mattrey knows what the hell they are doing, they KNOW what they write, know what they put into every episode detail by detail.. so looking at the two and only two people paying attention to kyman’s tender moment, being Stephen and Gerald is a REAL interesting choice.. considering the characters relations/acts/views on being homosexual. Very interesting.. Mattrey we are onto you guys, you know what you’re doing 🫵 I need to interrogate them..

#kyman #south park #eric cartman #kyle broflovski #kyman comic #kyman fanart #kyman fanfiction #south park kyman #sp kyman #south park panderverse #i love them your honor

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silly-inksans-stuff · 7 months

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Now, me showing my honest reaction after see my fsvorite ship looking at eachother for 1 second

"Deamn... couple argument"

-They look so homosexual

-c'mon Jakei please

....ignore the other messages xD

-WHAT A BIG CONFESSION

-They should kiss

era esperanzas en vez de ilusiones gente disculpen no hablo inglish

Y español tampoco, si es que escribo como la mielda 💀

-PLEASE JAKEI YOU CAN'T STILL HIDING TO US THAT THEY ARE CANON FOR GOD

-THEY ARE SO CANON

-I swear that i read "hopes" and i was like 🤨🤨🤨

-Cross and ink in their most heterosexual moment:

-actually in the next chapter they are going to kiss

-and it's going to be explained why they divorced

-IS JUST THAT THEY HAVE COUPLE DINAMIC I SWEAR I AM NOT CRAZY

-REAL

-for me Cross confessed there in a completly romantic way

-completely canon

-EXACTLY

-IT'S JUST

-HIS FACE AND WORDS REVEAL EVERYTHING

*Sigh* well, in conclusion,

CRINK.FUCKING. CANON!!!

#undertale #underverse #ink sans #ink!sans #cross sans #cross!sans #crink #crink ship #cross x ink #ink x cross #no i do not #accept #opinions #diferents to mine

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transfemoliorionsound · 6 months

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did i tell you guys. i was rewatching limited life the other day and i saw jimmy shout “SORRY RANCHER GOTTA GO” at tango and that 2 seconds of interaction was so unbelievably homosexual that i honest to god felt it in my chest

#i am being so slash gen.#10piecetalks #team rancher #guy gets exposed to rancher duo for less then 5 seconds and suddenly Understands

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usaigi · 1 year

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Is Matt Murdock Homophobic?

Short answer: Doubt it.

Long answer: I seriously doubt, just because he’s Catholic/was raised in a highly Catholic environment (a Catholic orphanage) doesn’t mean he’s homophobic. Being Catholic does not automatically equal being homophobic.

And if we’re being completely honest, I won’t consider Matt to be “extremely” Catholic in the way the fandom seems to think about him. Matt attending mass on Sunday, going to confession, and having a relationship with his priest just makes him a churchgoer. Which I guess makes him more devote than a lot of other Catholics but the way some of the fandom talk about him makes it seems like he’s having a crisis of faith every other Tuesday.

I've seen this topic come up in fanfiction and in fandom in general so I’d like to offer a liberal queer Catholic perspective on being queer.

Is being gay a sin in Catholicism?

Having same-sex attraction is not a sin in Catholicism. However, having sex outside of marriage is a sin. And since the church only recognizes heterosexual marriages, it essentially does make being gay a sin. The whole “being gay isn’t a sin but if you act upon it is” which is... ugh.

We are all children of God, and God loves us as we are and for the strength that each of us fights for our dignity. Being homosexual is not a crime. It is not a crime. 'Yes, but it is a sin.' Fine, but first let us distinguish between a sin and a crime. It is not the first time that I speak of homosexuality and of homosexual persons. And I wanted to clarify that it is not a crime, in order to stress that criminalization is neither good nor just. When I said it is a sin, I was simply referring to Catholic moral teaching, which says that every sexual act outside of marriage is a sin. Of course, one must also consider the circumstances, which may decrease or eliminate fault. As you can see, I was repeating something in general. I should have said, 'It is a sin, as is any sexual act outside of marriage.' This is to speak of 'the matter' of sin, but we know well that Catholic morality not only takes into consideration the matter, but also evaluates freedom and intention; and this, for every kind of sin. And I would tell whoever wants to criminalize homosexuality that they are wrong. - Pope Francis 2023

HOWEVER: We have not seen Matt Murdock having religious objections/feel guilty for having premarital sex. Birth control is also not accepted in Catholicism but I seriously doubt Matt’s not wrapping it. I’m sure I don’t need to cite one of the million jokes about him being a manwhore, we all know it. Do we really think Matt would be such a hypocrite to think someone is a sinner for being LGBT when he himself has had how many girlfriends? Not to mention he was also born and raised in New York City and his need for justice is one of his primary character traits. Do you really think Matt learned about the Stonewall Riot(his own city’s history), the AIDs epidemic, the general mistreatment and discrimination of LGBT people and would really support it? BFFR.

Matt Murdock is a lot of things, mainly a self-loathing idiot in desperate need a therapy, but he’s not a bigot.

I’m going to link this post by the lovely @ceterisparibus116 about Matt’s "religious guilt" and what I think is fandom’s general misunderstanding of Matt’s Catholic guilt.

What about internalized homophobia?

In my own fics I’ve written Matt as bi/pan (hooking up with Moon Knight) (also that one Ziwe meme) and as a trans guy who pre-transition thought he was a lesbian/sapphic. (If you read it I’ll love you forever). Mattfoggy is the biggest ship in the fandom so it's only normal to have this discussion.

Sure, maybe Matt wouldn’t judge other people for being gay and having sex outside of Catholic-recognized marriage but would he judged himself? How can Matt still consider himself Catholic and queer?

A misconception I think a lot of people have about Catholicism is that we must all follow the church’s teaching and that everything the Pope says is infallible. Which is silly and simply not true. Pope Benedict XVI once stated that: "The Pope is not an oracle; he is infallible in very rare situations, as we know." Pope John XXIII also once said: "I am only infallible if I speak infallibly but I shall never do that, so I am not infallible."

First of all, the church is not a monolith institution. Second of all, not all Catholic teaching is infallible, “no church teaching is automatically free from error, because the church is composed of human beings. God alone is a priori free from error in detail and in every case.” (Infallible? An Inquiry by Hans Küng). Very few things are infallible statement. The Immaculate Conception of Mary and the Assumption of Mary are infallible statements. But as far as I know, “being gay is a sin” is not.

Conscience, actually, takes priority over church teaching. Pope Francis said “that priests must inform Catholic consciences ‘but not replace them.’ And he stressed the distinction between one’s conscience—where God reveals himself—and one’s ego that thinks it can do as it pleases.” (x)

In extolling conscience the Catechism quotes from another Vatican II document Gaudium et Spes. It states: "Deep within his conscience man discovers a law which he has not laid upon himself but which he must obey. “For a man has in his heart a law inscribed by God . . . His conscience is man’s most secret core and his sanctuary,” the document goes on, “There he is alone with God whose voice echoes in his depths.” In summary, it is possible for a good Catholic in good faith to act contrary to the teachings of the church. - Patsy McGarry

If Matt prayed, asked for guidance and his conscience said that being (trans, gay, bi, however you headcanon him) is not sinful, he can, in good faith, oppose the church. And yes, he’d be welcomed to take the Eucharist. Eucharist is not a reward that only the most faithful free-on-sin living saints. It’s a source of healing and for those striving to live in the Gospel.

In terms of the church, as I said, it’s not a monolith and people can and do disagree in current teaching. Here’s Cardinal McElroy calling for the ‘radical inclusion’ of LGBT, women and others in the Catholic Church. Here’s a letter by 6,000 nuns standing in solidarity with Trans community.

This is just my headcanon, but I don’t think Father Lantom is homophobic. I’d like to think he’s one of the priest calling for reform and acceptance of LGBT people. I also like to think Sister Maggie was one of the nuns that signed that letter. If Matt came to him asking for support, I honestly think Father Lantom would give him that.

Would everyone in his community accept him? No, probably not and that’s unfortunate. But there are those in the community don’t accept the young single mom or the recovering alcoholic. Religious gatekeeping is a problem and I don’t want to pretend it isn’t, but it’s not the only truth. I dislike the idea that being queer and Catholic are mutually exclusive. Or that Matt would leave his religion for being queer. To be honest, as a queer Catholic I find it pretty disrespectful. I would love to read more fics where Matt realize he’s queer and struggles with it but it’s so incredibly annoying when the fic concludes with Matt leaving his faith. We’re Catholic for God not for a church. There are other queer Catholic Matt could hypothetically find community with.

And I get it, a lot of people are coming from a place of religious trauma and are writing fanfic to express it. I'm sorry for anyone who was hurt by the church, religion or toxic family. The church has and continues to do a lot of harm, both on the individual and global level. If anyone wants a rant about colonization of Latin America, I’m your girl. I just dislike this black-and-white mindset that Matt is either Catholic or gay.

If anyone has questions, I can try to answer. I’m not a theology expert, I’m just a virgo and a fanfic writer.

#daredevil #daredevil born again #matt murdock #mattfoggy #fratt #foggy nelson #karen page #charlie cox #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #mcu #usaigi meta #usaigi speaks

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shroomsroom · 3 days

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hi! if you could would you do platonic of the greasers finding out reader is a lesbian on accident? ty! <3

Summary: The Outsiders finding out you’re a lesbian

Warnings: Gay stereotypes from un-educated people, slight un-acceptance of reader being lesbian. Implied sexual themes. Reader being ashamed of homosexuality because of situation.

Author's Note: part of me is telling me to write for delulu girls where everything is happy rainbow sunshine but ik that tulsa and specifically greasers would not really accept homosexuality because of the time period and also where they’re centered. Nonetheless, i love my lgbtqia+ readers so i will write for the girlies today and not for the historians.

Technically, your bestfriend wasn’t supposed to find out, infact it was a total accident, he only found out because you had slacked off in hiding the pictures of you and your girlfriend.

PONYBOY CURTIS

“Y/n?” Pony called from your room, “Uhm, what’s this?” Your face twisted in confusion and you quickly entered your room to see what Pony was talking about. He was holding an image, one you remembered vividly. You took it with your girlfriend, the bright beach behind you and her pressing a kiss onto your smiling lips. You stumbled, snatching the photo out of his hand.

“That’s uhm, we’re…” You muttered, embarrassed blush spreading across your face. “That’s my friend, we’re super close.” The excuse you made up was laughable, but your brain was a jumbled mess.

“Girl-friend?” He asked, annunciating the ‘girl’. You try your best to not let your expression betray you but he can tell. “Well..I mean, I don’t think of you any less. I just, uhm, I’m just confused..” He shrugged.

“C-confused?” You asked, startled. He nodded.

“I mean, why would you hide this from me? I get, like, being scared but I thought you’d know I’d be better than that,” He let out an awkward chuckle and you laughed in pleasant surprise.

“Oh, Pony! I’m sorry for not telling you earlier! Thank you for being understanding.” You pulled him in a hug. He patted your back awkwardly but held a genuine smile on his face.

“Just promise not to tell anyone, ok?” You told him, sternly. He made a show of crossing his heart before winking at you.

JOHNNY CADE

Johnny had found the picture many days ago, you with your girlfriend doing the scissor handsign at a party. He reasoned with himself that you were probably drunk or something but knowing that you were a lesbian seemed to make sense. He struggled with his thoughts for a few days. He knew that it wasn’t technically ‘acceptable’, but he couldn’t find it in himself to distance from you or to hate you! Finally, it was decided that he would confront you and he would see what would happen then. The picture slipped into your hand nonchalantly and you nearly toppled over in shock. You looked up at Johnny in bewilderment, meeting his stare.

“This-” You started, but paused. How much did he know?!

“Is you and your girlfriend?” He asked and you hung your head, ashamed that he found out and ashamed of your sexuality.

“I’m sorry,” You murmmured and he quirked his brow.

“To be honest, I don’t see the reason you’d be sorry for.” He said, a hint of curiosity in his voice.

“Well, I guess, being lesbian isn’t really the trend of the year,” You try and joke, he only looks at you, expression blank.

“I’m just upset you didn’t tell me.” He bit the corner of his lip, something he’d learned to do when confronting people to ward off his anxiety.

“Really?” You asked, eyes widening in shock and he nodded slightly. You grasp his hand in yours.

“Oh my god, Johnny. You’re such an amazing friend!” You smiled brightly and he returned it.

SODAPOP CURTIS

Soda had an ego bigger than he’d like to admit. So when he found the photos of you in your girlfriend's lap, a bottle of 4 Lokos in one hand and her hand in the other, it made sense. You’d rejected him twice and he reasoned that the only way you would reject him was if you never loved anyone. So it all clicked for him.

He burst into your room, eyes sparkling with new-found confidence. “I knew it!” You jumped, startled at his sudden intrusion before nearly screeching at the photo in his hand

“Where did you find that!?” You cried, “Did you go through my drawers?!” You eyes were nearly filled with tears and Sodapop stopped as soon as he saw your reaction.

“Woah, hey..you okay? I'm not mad at you or anything..” He said, awkwardly trying to comfort you.

“Oh my god, you weren't supposed to find out about this” You were crying now, wiping tears from your cheek. Soda quickly enveloped you in a hug, patting your back soothingly.

“Hey, hey. I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to be mean to ya,” he whispered. You sniffled, picking your head back up.

“Why'd you come running in like that, then…” your voice wavered.

“I was just going to make some joke about how the only reason a girl would reject me is because they don't like guys. I'm sorry if it made you feel upset.” He gave you a sad but goofy grin and you gave a small laugh back.

“Oh, I hate you.” You said sarcastically, punching at his shoulder lightly.

STEVE RANDLE

At first, you had totally forgot about the picture, so when you saw Steve holding something with a small amount of shock on his face, you gently grabbed it to see what it was. Your breath caught in your throat as soon as you saw it. You were mortified, to you the photo was of you and your girlfriend dancing but to anyone else it might've been a chance for them to shun you from society.

You shoved the picture quickly into your pocket, giving Steve a pleading look.

“Steve, I-” you started, voice catching in your throat as it wavered. There was a big pause before Steve spoke up.

“Should’ve told me you had a girlfriend, Y/n.” He calmly stated.

“Lot of things could've gone wrong if I did that.” You replied, running a hand through your hair. He shrugged.

“Would've saved me from the shock, at least” his attempt on humor made you look up at him

“You don't hate me?” You asked, eyes wide in fear.

“Nah, you’re my friend, part of the gang. I can't hate ya.” He smiled before patting your head.

TWO-BIT MATHEWS

Two-Bit was looking through your drawers for find a spoon for some ice cream when he stumbled on the photo of you and your girlfriend on a date. He immediately slammed the door shut and stood there in shock until you walked in to see what the commotion was about. Your eyes widened as you saw what he was standing over.

“Two..” you started, voice shaky with fear.

“You’re a lesbian?” He asked and you winced. as soon as he saw your face contort he apologized.

“Sorry, was just surpised.” He said, rubbing the back of his neck. You looked up at him.

“Does that mean I hide it well?” You asked, it was a lousy attempt at cracking a joke but it worked. He nodded, a small smile forming.

“Yeah” he agreed and you sighed with relief. He quickly gave you a side hug before continuing his search for a spoon.

DARRY CURTIS

Darry was not one to intrude on personal matters but seeing the photo of you and your girlfriend doing each other's lipstick had him shocked. He tried to put the photo away before you could see but you caught him.

“Darry, you didn't..” your eyes widened in fear. He turned to you.

“Why didn't you tell me, Y/n?” he asked, very prominently trying to not make you feel bad.

“Thought you would, ya know..judge me?” You reasoned.

“Oh, Y/n. I would never,” he said, smiling at you and pulling you into a hug.

DALLAS WINSTON

“The fuck is this?” Dallas yelled at you in the other room. You walked up next to him to see what he was talking about and almost screamed. You quickly yanked the photo of you and your girlfriend from his hands and stuffed it back into the drawer.

“Stop going through my drawers, Dallas!” You shouted and he put his hands up in surrender.

“Just looking for something. Anyways, you…you like girls?” He asked, slightly confused at what was happening. You huffed and nodded, hiding your head in your hands. He shrugged.

“One less girl I have to worry about”, he patted your shoulder and you laughed.

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