#the struggles of homophob parent

[she-could-never]

I swear to mf lesbian Jesus I’m going to go insane if my mom comments on my lack of makeup.

I’m not even going to start when I wear a carabiner!!

[name-doggo]

One thing I really wish the FF Community would Stop doing is Removing All Nuance from the Parents in Those Stories in order to Make Them Abusive Supervillains who Never Loved their Kid.

Like... In the Four Years I've been here, and for how Small the Community really is, you'd be surprised how many Times I've seen it-

[thesufferingsapphic]

Trying to make Tims parents horrible people when there’s characters that actually have terrible parents is so weird

[flower-zombie-rob]

Welcome to day one of how many times can my mother tear me down and destroy my confidence in one go. How many days will this go on? Im not sure! Tune in next time for a brand new episode of Taking Advantage Of My Kids Rejection Sensitivity, youre watching the disney channel.

[unwindow-the-window]

⚢

Ever pushed to your limit and told the same things over and over again To the point That you want to just completly drop the facade? To stop hiding To stop agreeing To finally tell them "I'm never going to be who you want me to be"

To tell your mother and father that you'll never live their ideal life. To tell them you're never going to become like them. Someone who believes that it's their daughter's duty to leave her own dreams behind to start a family she never wanted. That it's her responsiblity to carry the weight of her entire family on her shoulder. That it's her duty to look after her hard working husband. But what if it's not my dream to go to a good school, marry a good man and die bound to him, someone whom I'll will never truly love?

But what if thats not me? Prehaps I don't want broad shoulders and sharp jawlines, nor children and their laughter that they'll never bring me. What if i dream of slim waists and soft lips, a girl with green eyes and blonde hair?

I know you just mean well for me. That all you want is me to be happy. But every time you say those words And tell me, "We just want you to have a good life." It hurts. I know oneday when you realise that i'm not who you want to me to be, you'll turn your back on me. I don't think i'll ever be able to stand your dissapointment. I don't want you to be ashamed of your only daughter. I don't want you to think that this is just a phase, something i'll get over soon. Because its not. This will never change.

These are the words that I dream over and over of saying. You don't know, how badly I want to lay out the truth Tell you who i am. But I think we all know I'll never be able to.

Because I am a coward too scared. too scared to lose the love of the one who birthed me, the ones who raised me. the ones I'm supposed to trust the most. the ones who promised me unconditional love. You. too afraid of your reactions. too afraid to face the consequenses. too afraid of your backlash. No matter how much it hurts, I'd rather hide the most vulnerable part of myself than face your disapointment.

Because no matter how many how many sugared promises of acceptence you give me. Deep down I already know That theres always going to be a limit. A line. A dangerous border that should not be crossed. I know your love and acceptence can only be streched so far.

One day, you'll realise that you only ever loved me for what you wanted me to be. Not who I really am.

[aloftmelevar]

this day has been absolute ass

[mintytealeaves]

goddammit I should be able to read queer books without fear

but I CANT

I was at the library ALONE

and I felt like I had to avoid everyone just cause I wanted to read heartstopper.

GAHHHH

[alasstairs]

tfw deep intrinsic almost instinctual need to talk to mother or father or even general parental family member about relationship concerns or just abt my partner in general but i Cant bc theyre homophobic and even if we were straight they dont believe in relationships before marriage

alas we must remain a secret not to be divulged at any moment lest i be sent away or kept from my beloved 😔

[alesandraelin]

𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚒𝚍, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚔𝚒𝚍 - 𝙰𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚆𝙵𝙲 𝚡 𝚃𝚎𝚎𝚗!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

Description: reader's parents kicked her out and she is struggling. The team is always there for her.

awfc x teen!reader Kim Little x teen!reader

*Homophobic parents, self worth issues, angst with a happy ending

Kim was the first to notice. Kim is always the first to notice if something is wrong, especially when it is something to do with her protégé.

The sun was barely peeking over the horizon when Y/n trudged onto the football field, her heart heavy with the weight of the previous night's events. Her parents' harsh words still echoed in her mind, each syllable a reminder of the home she no longer had. The field, usually a place of solace and escape, felt foreign and unwelcoming today. She tried to shake off the feeling, but it clung to her like a second skin.

As the team gathered for their morning warm-up, Y/n forced a smile, hoping it would mask the turmoil inside. Her teammates chatted animatedly, their laughter ringing out in the crisp morning air. Y/n moved through her stretches mechanically, her mind elsewhere. She was grateful for the routine, something familiar to hold onto amidst the chaos.

Jonas blew the whistle, signaling the start of a new drill. This one involved quick footwork and passing accuracy, requiring each player to move swiftly between cones while maintaining control of the ball. Y/n took her position, determined to push through the haze of her thoughts. She moved with the group, her feet dancing around the cones, but her usual grace was missing. The ball slipped away from her, rolling out of bounds.

"Come on, Y/n! Keep your head in the game!" Jonas called out, his voice carrying across the field.

Y/n nodded, forcing herself to concentrate. She retrieved the ball, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. As she resumed the drill, she caught sight of Viv and Beth, her teammates and a couple, working together seamlessly. Their movements were in sync, a testament to their understanding of each other both on and off the field. Y/n felt a pang of envy mixed with admiration. The ease with which they expressed their love was something she had always longed for, yet it was the very thing that had driven a wedge between her and her family.

Nearby, Katie and Caitlin, another couple on the team, were laughing as they practiced passing the ball back and forth. Their joy was infectious, and Y/n couldn't help but smile despite herself. Yet, the sight also served as a stark reminder of her own situation. While her teammates were embraced for who they were, she had been shunned by her own family for loving women. The injustice of it all gnawed at her, threatening to overwhelm her composure.

Jonas called for a water break, and Y/n gratefully took the opportunity to catch her breath. She sat on the grass, sipping from her water bottle, trying to steady her racing heart. Kyra and Vic had both attempted to talk to the girl only to be met with annoyed mumbles and blank stares. Teyah got the same treatment when she tried.

Kim watched on with a frown on her face, Jen coming to check on what she was so worried about.

"Just look at her, it like every bit of light has been sucked out of her. I can't bear it." Kim sighed as she watched you zone out, kicking at the ground aimlessly.

"You know her better than anyone Kimmy, go talk to her after practice." Jen encourages before they are all called back onto the pitch.

Training didn't get any better for the remainder of the day. Poor passes, sloppy in possession and way off target when shooting. It just wasn't good enough and Y/n knew that. The words of her parents from the previous night going through her head with every failed attempt on goal, every time she lost possession by making a silly mistake.

All the girls saw it, they noticed how sloppy her play had become. A stark contrast to her normal 110% effort every time she trained. It worried them all. They all made an effort to try and boost her up with pats on the back and words of encouragement but they were met with silence and no improvement.

Training ended as the afternoon air came in. The girl made their way off the pitch and back into the locker room. Y/n lingered back as she watched them all converse. Beth & Viv walked hand in hand into the locker room in front of y/n. This made her chest pang, it was jealousy, it was longing, it was sadness.

All the girls chatted as they got changed and packed up their stuff whilst y/n sat in her cubby trying her best not to cry. She was approached by Leah who knelt down to her height in her cubby.

"You alright chick?" The blonde asked, her brows furrowed in worry.

Y/n looked up at Leah, putting a small smile on. "I'm alright, I slept really rough last night thats all, I'm sorry for not being at by best today Lee."

"Don't apologise y/n, we all have off days. Try and get some sleep so we can get our happy girl back yeah?" Leah patted the girls shoulder as she stood up to go home.

With Leah gone, y/n looked around the locker room spotting no one there, she let her guard down and broke. Tears streamed down her face as she replayed the harsh words of the night before. Her parents' anger and disappointment had cut deep, leaving her feeling raw and exposed. She hugged her knees to her chest, seeking comfort in the small, enclosed space she had created for herself.

What y/n didn't know was Kim hung around to talk to Jonas about something and had just reentered the change rooms as y/n was crying. Kim quickly made her way over to the small girl, wrapping her arms around her, pulling her close.

"Y/n?" Kim's voice was gentle, filled with concern. "What's going on sweetheart?"

Y/n quickly sat up, wiping the tears away from her eyes. "I'm fine, just tired." She tried so reason as her voice cracked and tears continued to well in her eyes.

Kim shook her head, squeezing her a little tighter. "You don't have to pretend with me. I can tell something's wrong. Do you want to talk about it?"

Y/n hesitated, the words lodged in her throat. But the kindness in Kim's eyes coaxed them out. "My parents... they kicked me out last night. I finally worked up the courage to come out. They don't love me anymore Kim." The last sentence broke her as she cried again.

Kim's heart ached at the vulnerability in Y/n's voice. She reached out, placing a reassuring hand on Y/n's back. "I'm so sorry, Y/n. That must be incredibly painful."

Y/n nodded, her tears flowing freely now. "I just don't understand why they can't accept me. Seeing everyone else so happy and accepted... it just makes it hurt more."

Kim nodded, understanding the depth of Y/n's pain. "You deserve to be loved and accepted for who you are. And you are, Y/n. By all of us."

Y/n looked up, her eyes searching Kim's face for reassurance. "But where do I go now? I don't have anywhere else, I'm 17 I just want my parents."

Kim's expression softened further, her resolve clear. "You can stay with me, as long as you need. You're not alone. The team loves you and I love you. You are so incredibly brave and strong."

The offer hung in the air, a lifeline extended in Y/n's darkest moment. Gratitude surged through her, mingling with the sadness. "Thank you, Kim. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Kim smiled, her own eyes misty with emotion. "We're a team, Y/n. We look out for each other. Arsenal is a family. You're part of our family."

Y/n leaned into Kim's side, drawing comfort from the warmth and solidarity. The locker room, once a place of routine, had become a sanctuary—a space where she could be herself without fear of judgment.

"You're so strong, Y/n," Kim continued, her voice steady. "And we'll get through this together. You've got a whole team behind you, ready to support you every step of the way."

[idkdudethisisntpermanent]

Between the Pews

lorraine day x female reader

summary: You recently move to a conservative Texas town, and find yourself drawn to the town’s resident good girl, Lorraine. A struggle between duty and desire, as a forbidden attraction ignites during Sunday church services.

word count: 1.2k

————

The church was bathed in soft, golden light as the afternoon sun filtered through the stained glass windows.  It cast colourful patterns across the worn pews and the bowed heads of the congregation.  You fought to stifle your laughter as you noticed the rainbow pattern projected by the sunlight, dancing across the back of the town mayor.

Your mother gave you a subtle nudge, her way of telling you to keep quiet.  Moving from Silicon Valley to a small conservative town in Texas was the very definition of a downgrade.  Your father's work had forced the relocation, and at first you didn't mind it.  But blending in with the locals and adopting their ways was definitely not part of the deal. Then again, when your dad's job— your family's livelihood, depends on pleasing the townsfolk, that's what you have to expect.

Churches weren't all so bad.  You remember some in the Valley that were all inclusive and didn't care that you were gay, but something about the parking lot full of Fords and the old to young attendee ratio told you that this church was not one of them.  You wondered why your parents would subject you to the torture of a homophobic church, but that was until you saw her.

And torture has never looked so good.

You sat in the back, as you always did, you weren't entirely sure if it was a choice on your end or if it was the church goers not approving your family yet.  Either way you didn't mind. 

Your arms casually draped over the wooden bench. Lorraine was in her usual spot near the front, her hands clasped neatly in her lap. She wore a modest white blouse and a pale blue skirt that ended just below her knees.  Around her neck, a delicate silver cross hung, resting just above the modest neckline of her blouse.

Your eyes were drawn to her, as they had been every Sunday since you first walked into this church almost a month ago. She was the picture of piety, the good Christian girl everyone wanted her to be.  Yet there was something in the way her gaze would flicker back to you, brief and hesitant, like she was afraid of being caught, that told you that she wasn't what this town wanted her to be.

You wondered how important it was to her that she sat in the pews at the front.

The preacher went on and on, his words never reaching you as your focus remained on Lorraine. Her eyes met yours again, and this time, she held it. There was a moment of something—a connection, an understanding that passed between you, electric and undeniable. She looked away as quickly as it happened, her cheeks flushing a soft pink.

You leaned back, a small smile playing at the corners of your lips.  She was trying so hard to maintain her composure, to be the perfect daughter of the church.  But you knew better. You knew there was more to her than the prim and proper exterior she showed the world.

The service ended, and the congregation slowly rose to their feet. Your family remained seated as your father gave smiles to onlookers who wouldn't even spare him a glance.

Lorraine stood up, straightening her skirt with a her careful hands. You watched her, noting the slight shake in her fingers as she gathered her things and made her way towards the door. There was a tension in the air between you two, something unsaid, something waiting to be acknowledged.  But you let it go, for now.

————

Two Weeks Later

The days had passed slowly, each one blending with the next as you replayed that moment over and over in your mind. You hadn't seen Lorraine since the previous Sunday.  You avoided the places you knew she might be, not out of fear, but because you wanted to give her space.  Whatever had happened between you two was intense, too intense for someone who lived in this town their entire life to process quickly.

But now, two weeks later, you were back in the same church, sitting in a different pew, few rows ahead. Not sure if it was due to an increase in your family's social acceptance in the town or your fondness towards a certain girl.

Your eyes inevitably are drawn to the front where Lorraine sat few rows back from her usual pew. Her posture perfect as always, but you noticed the slight stiffness in her shoulders, the way her hands gripped the edge of the pew just a little too tightly. The cross necklace on her neck missing, and you could feel the weight of it in your jacket pocket, heavier with each passing second.

It had been an impulsive move, taking it. You hadn't planned on it, but when she had stood so close to you, her breath warm against your cheek, her voice trembling as she whispered words she wasn't supposed to feel, you couldn't resist.  You'd lifted it from her neck as you kissed her, like all the religious guilt she'd feel for what she's doing with you will vanish with the lack of necklace on her. A kiss that was meant to be quick but had turned into something more—a tangle of lips and emotions that neither of you fully understood.

The memory burned in your mind as you sat there, the necklace hidden away in your pocket, a secret you held close. You could still feel the softness of her lips, the way she had hesitated, then surrendered to you completely. It had been a moment of weakness, or perhaps a moment of truth.  You weren't sure which.

You stood up slowly, the church now nearly empty, and made your way towards the door. Lorraine was still there, her body present by her mind far.  When she noticed you, her breath caught, and she quickly looked away, her hand subconsciously moving to the spot where the necklace used to rest.

Or so you assumed it was subconscious. You considered approaching her, returning the necklace, maybe she wanted it back.

But then you thought better of it. Some things were better left unsaid. As you walked past her, you allowed your fingers to brush lightly against hers, a brief deliberate touch that made her stiffen.

You kept walking, out into the cool afternoon air, the necklace still in your pocket. You didn't look back, but you could feel her eyes on you, watching, wondering. Maybe she would ask for it back. Maybe she wouldn't. Either way, the connection between you, created in that brief moment of stolen intimacy, was something neither of you could deny.

Your parents were talking to you, but you weren't paying attention. Your thoughts were consumed by that necklace, by what it represented, by what it meant that she hadn't asked for it back. Was she waiting for you to make the first move?  Or was she hoping to forget that moment altogether?

But maybe, just maybe, some questions didn't need answers.  Maybe some moments were meant to linger, unresolved, leaving a mark that neither time nor distance could erase.

Some things were better left unsaid, but that didn't make them any less real.  And as you walked away, the cool metal of the cross pressing against your palm, you couldn't help but wonder if Lorraine was thinking about that night too—if she was missing her necklace, or if she was missing something more.

[allpiesforourown]

I love how you depict Shen twins: You Understand. Also younger SJ is sooo smart, let him be a bratty didi who tries to monopolize SY!!!

I need shen jiu (cang qiongs strategist) and Luo binghe (genius protagonist) to have light and Kira level mind games and schemes in order to get rid of the other.

Shen Jiu: oh ge, what a surprise running into you here! Let me introduce my friend... whaaat? She knows binghe? They used to date? :)

Shen Jiu: look at that uncomfortable glance Yuan ge just sent to binghe.. ha, it's over!

Binghe: you fool... you thought I didn't know you'd do this? I already gave her a script and double what you offered her!

Binghe's ex: Yes, Luo Binghe was so sweet! I had homophobic parents and he offered to be my beard :) he never touched me unless necessary, he was so respectful!

Shen Jiu: what!? She said he was a terrible boyfriend who cheated and- DAMNIT they're in on it together!!

Shen Jiu unfortunately never wins his struggle to get rid of Luo binghe

[battlekidx2]

“Do you like girls?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you like boys?”

“I don’t know. I think I like TV shows.”

I remember when I was in middle school all the other girls were talking about the guys they liked and I said I didn’t like anyone. I just wanted to do my own thing.

I didn’t really get why I would want to date anyone. I understood friendship, companionship— having someone to share my interests and mutually info dump to sounded cool— but I struggled to understand the appeal of spending every day and every night with someone else. Of holding hands and going on dates. 

This led to a lot of homophobic bullying and a few of them would act disgusted that I might be into them. Constantly acting like I was looking at their boobs and sexualizing them (I never made eye contact with anyone and would frequently look at the wall or space out while looking in their general direction). Or make a big show of not being interested and many other things.

I didn’t get this either. I didn’t know why I would be interested in any of them. They treated me poorly and I thought attraction was something people made up and simply just claimed to feel towards other people.

Just like I never understood celebrity crushes. You don’t know the person so how could you possibly know you liked them? And I never understood how people “chose” who they dated. Did they just choose whoever they liked hanging out with the most?

But any time I voiced this it was always met with worse and worse reactions. It led to isolation among peers and my family. My parents made it pretty clear I wasn’t who they wanted me to be. That I wasn’t normal.

I soon learned to fake it. Pretend I understood it.

The idea of not being attracted to anyone seemed like a foreign idea to most people I met. Even when I branched out and moved away, I met a few people in the lgbt community who couldn’t grasp it either and reacted poorly and it made me feel stupid. Like maybe I wasn’t just screwed up to people who fit in the neat little box society wants you to fit in, but to everyone else as well.

Maybe I was wrong. If it’s an impossibility even in this community that champions diversity and acceptance then can that really be my reality?

I kept trying to force it. To date, but every time I did I always felt that same skin crawling discomfort and it always petered out. It didn’t matter who it was or what gender. It always felt wrong. It was suffocating.

I don’t think there’s a movie that better portrays that all consuming, suffocating stagnation of feeling so out of place– knowing you’re out of place compared to those around you– and in response forcing yourself to fit what other people expect of you than I Saw the TV Glow.

Whenever I think back to growing up or whenever I return home that same feeling this movie is centered around always drenches my experiences.

And even now it’s hard to put into words when I talk to other people what I’ve felt when it comes to this aspect of my life.

That comment from Owen about knowing there’s nothing there when talking about romance and attraction, but being too afraid to look and knowing that his parents know something is wrong with him hit harder than any other scene from a movie I’ve watched this year.

It’s that absence of something that is at the heart of asexuality that makes me always question what I choose to identify as when I have to explain it to someone. Because for the most part my explanation boils down to (in broad oversimplified terms): I’ve never felt attraction, I’m more interested in watching a Spider-Man movie than I’ve ever been into even just the idea of dating, every time I’ve attempted to date it’s been uncomfortable and I’ve actively dodged anything beyond friendship while in the “relationship”.

And when I try to voice that to another person it always feels like those experiences don’t hold water. That’s describing the absence of something. There’s no real proof of the identity.

With being bi or gay or lesbian there’s something you can I don’t know—point to?— that can help you know your identity.

And that’s the fact that you’ve experienced attraction towards one or more people of one or more genders.

It’s defined not by the lack of something but the presence of an experience.

And so every time I try and explain it I end up feeling stupid. Like I just haven’t tried hard enough to find someone compatible. That I need to get back into the proverbial saddle and try again. I always in some way feel ashamed and backtrack as a result.

This is in no way to say that it’s harder or easier to be one identity or the another. Everyone’s experiences are different and everyone experiences are valid. This is just a struggle I’ve found that’s unique to asexuality that many people I’ve talked to have also experienced.

I haven’t felt that part of my experience be seen in media until I saw this movie. Maybe I’m latching onto what I can get or maybe that was an intrinsic part of the movie. That’s not important. What’s important is that it’s something I felt seen in even if it was literally just one scene.

This is my really long winded and roundabout way of saying that I really think this movie is going to stick with me much longer than any other thing I’ve seen this year.

Things can be hard to put into words and as a result I tend to keep things inside. I’m fairly certain I’m ace but it might turn out I’m on a different romantic spectrum then I thought or I fall somewhere different than I thought on the ace spectrum. I don’t know what I’ll discover in the future.

I’m likely not going to express my label out loud to anyone but a select few. I still can’t express this particular label out loud to many people. My family is definitely never going to hear it. A friend or two might.

It’s something I struggle with on a regular basis. I’m fine with identifying with the label in my head—in a lot of ways it makes me feel comfortable and happy— but any time I try to voice it the words die in my throat and I can’t help but feel ashamed. It’s easier to just tell people I don’t want to date right now. That there are all these factors in the way (finances, time, jobs, etc) than it is to try and explain what I’ve just rambled about above.

I know many people have felt and understood that experience and I hope people know they’re valid. You can express your identity with your full chest, shout it from the rooftops and let people know, or you can keep it to yourself, identifying as your label solely in your head. Both experiences are valid. And if your label changes at some point in your life that doesn’t make what you chose to identify as at this point any less valid too. People are always learning and growing. You can gain a new understanding of yourself as time move forward.

Sorry for the way too long ramble. This movie made me feel things.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA if I were to report my abusive homophobic and fatphobic immigrant parents to ICE once I plan to move out of the country?

My (18f) parents (50ishF & 50ishM) are currently undocumented immigrants. Since I was a child, I've had to put up with their physical and emotional abuse, as well as their homophobic remarks towards myself and others (they are somewhat aware I like girls). To this day, I am still struggling with body image issues due to their remarks on my figure growing up. When I was 16, I told myself that I'd get a job when I'm 18, and save enough to move out. I currently plan to move out of the country in the future for other reasons, such as living costs. When that happens, just a day or two before I'd be out of the country, I plan to report them to ICE, so they can be deported back to their countries. I have no remorse over that, what I'm worried is what would happen to my younger brother (9M). I don't care much about him as a family member (for reasons I'd rather not get into), but I'd feel guilty for taking him away from his parents and placing him in the foster care system. So, WIBTA?

[weemssapphic]

Lipstick Stains - Pt. 24

previous chapter | next chapter | series page

Larissa Weems x fem!reader

warning: this chapter contains smut (g!p)

words: ~ 4.2k | ao3 link in title

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“My mom wanted me to thank you for all the restaurant recs you gave them. By the sound of it I’m pretty sure my parents were in a food coma all weekend.”

Larissa let out a sound between a chuckle and a snort, her gaze briefly flicking up from her laptop. You were sitting cross legged on the chair across from her, a textbook flipped open in your lap and your phone in your hand, the soft, cool glow illuminating your face as you glanced up at Larissa with a grin.

“I’m glad your parents don’t seem to hate me entirely,” Larissa quipped with a small but genuine smile.

“They could never hate you, Larissa… I think my mom was just being weirdly protective,” you said with a shrug. “Wouldn’t your mom be the same?”

You could see Larissa’s shoulders tense, her smile faltering, and you frowned. Larissa didn’t speak of her parents much, or at all, really - all you knew was that they were still alive, and that they lived somewhere near London. 

“Sorry, you don’t have to-” you started quickly, worried you’d struck a nerve, but Larissa interrupted you before you had the chance to finish speaking.

“My mother has never cared for anyone I’ve chosen to be with, I doubt this would be any different.” Her voice was cool and weirdly distant, and her gaze flickered back to her laptop under the pretense of reading her emails - you could tell, though, that she was just scrolling idly, without really absorbing anything on the screen.

“Oh, so she’s, like, super critical of your partners…?”

“Of everyone. Not to mention homophobic.”

Your stomach dropped at that, your heart breaking into a billion pieces for Larissa. “What about your dad?” you mumbled, your mouth feeling a bit dry as you feared the answer.

Larissa shrugged, snapping her laptop shut and interlocking her hands in her lap as she leaned back in her chair and fixed the smooth, rounded edge of the desk with a distant, pensive stare. “I don’t think he minds, but he wouldn’t dare speak out against my mother, so it doesn’t matter.”

“It matters a lot, Riss, that’s really shit, I th-”

You were interrupted by a pounding on the door to Larissa’s office - it opened behind you with a bang, an alarmingly loud flurry of footsteps spilling into the room. Larissa’s brow furrowed as her gaze snapped to the source of the interruption, and she immediately straightened up in her seat. 

A small group of students you hadn’t yet met all flocked around her desk, their anxiety clearly palpable - until they noticed you, fixing you with curious stares as the girl at the front of the group opened her mouth to speak, glanced over at you, then shut her mouth again.

“Should I…?” you asked Larissa quietly, your voice faltering a bit as you struggled to come to terms with the sudden interruption, subtly shifting in your seat so that you were sitting properly on the chair. 

Larissa shook her head gently. “It’s alright,” she said firmly, turning her attention to the girl and raising an eyebrow. “Ms. Barclay, I hope you have a good reason for barging into my office so late in the evening.”

Larissa was in principal mode, and you sat as still as you could to not draw further attention to yourself as the students, mercifully, turned their heads to look at their principal, and the girl started speaking.

“Principal Weems, Wednesday’s gone off the rails.”

Larissa’s face fell at the mention of Wednesday, and she instantly rolled her shoulders back and placed her interlocked hands atop her desk. “Would you care to elaborate?” she hummed coolly, irritation clear in her voice.

“She’s literally torturing Tyler out in Xavier’s art studio, she thinks he’s the hyde and that tasing him is going to unlock it or something.”

Your jaw dropped at the girl’s words, your stomach churning - a glance at Larissa told you she was having a similar emotional reaction, though she was infinitely better at hiding it, her eyes widening almost imperceptibly and her knuckles turning white.

“We tried to stop her, but she was weirdly into it, she said she had a vision,” offered one of the boys.

“I’m not going to ask how you know this - quite frankly, I don’t believe I want to know. I am, however, going to have to alert the sheriff…” Larissa picked up the phone on her desk, her nostrils flaring as she dialed the sheriff’s phone number. She leaned back as she lifted the receiver to her ear, waiting for him to pick up. “Sheriff Galpin, we have a problem. And her name is Wednesday Addams.”

Larissa quickly relayed the most important details to the sheriff, giving him permission to come to Nevermore to pick Wednesday up and agreeing to meet him at the station afterwards. As she hung up, she let out a frustrated sigh before turning back to her students. “Thank you for bringing this to my attention. I will be dealing with Ms. Addams accordingly and I would be very grateful if you could return to your dorms for the evening.”

The students shuffled back out of the office with mumbled ‘goodbye’s and ‘thank you’s (and a couple curious glances in your direction), and Larissa closed her eyes, a frown on her face as her lip twitched. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to leave for a little while,” she said slowly, her tone laced with annoyance and regret in equal measure. “I would be very happy if you would stay and wait for me, though I understand if you’d rather go home.”

“Of course I’m staying,” you replied firmly, placing your textbook on the edge of Larissa’s desk as you leaned over and took her hand in yours. Larissa’s eyes fluttered open, her gaze instantly softening as it landed on your hand gently but insistently intertwining itself with hers - she gave it a squeeze, before pulling her hand away and standing to fetch her coat.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” she said, pressing a light kiss to the crown of your head as she passed you to leave her office in a hurry.

~~~

The tell-tale click of heels just outside the door and the turning of the lock alerted you to Larissa’s return, and you closed the textbook you’d been studying and turned on the little sofa in front of the fire, craning your neck to watch the door as it opened. 

Wednesday stepped into the room first, her gaze instantly meeting yours but giving away nothing of what had transpired - aside from looking a tad spooked.

Larissa stepped through the door next, closing it gently behind herself. Her hard gaze seemed to soften just a fraction when she realized you were up and waiting for her. “Darling, could you please wait in my quarters for me? I’d like to speak with Ms. Addams alone. I won’t be long.”

You nodded in understanding, standing and making your way across the room, feeling Wednesday’s eyes on you the entire time as a soft clicking told you that Larissa was making her way over to her desk. You slipped into her quarters and closed the door behind yourself - the urge to eavesdrop was overwhelming, but you were certain Larissa would tell you what had happened later, so you took to rummaging around her kitchen for a snack and playing a game on your phone as you waited.

And tell you what happened, she did. It took a while but eventually Larissa returned to her quarters for the night, immediately finding you and pulling you in for a hug - one, it seemed, that she sorely needed. She told you she’d had to expel Wednesday, that she didn’t put much stock into the girl’s visions as Morticia’s had been just as unreliable, that she hoped, with Wednesday gone and Xavier locked up, the attacks would cease and the students could sit their end of semester exams in peace, life at Nevermore returning back to normal. 

You hoped she was right.

Then Larissa caught you yawning and glanced at the time - it was well past midnight, and she had a guilty look on her face for keeping you up as she insisted it was time to get some sleep. As you crawled into her bed and tugged at the sheets, a new addition to Larissa’s bedroom caught your eye - the painting, your painting, hung on the wall opposite the bed.

Larissa’s gaze followed your own, a blush rising on her cheeks as she realized what you were looking at. “I wanted to be able to see it every day. I think of you every time I look at it,” she murmured, almost too softly for you to hear - but you did, and it made you grin as you nuzzled into her side.

“Are you tired?” you asked Larissa softly. On the one hand, she looked absolutely exhausted - on the other, you could somehow tell she wasn’t going to fall asleep easily.

“No,” she confessed sheepishly, confirming your suspicions. 

You hummed thoughtfully, tracing your fingertips languidly over her collarbone. Larissa’s arms wound tightly around your waist, her lips pressed to the crown of your head in a firm, never-ending kiss. “I’m not tired either,” you said finally, your mind beginning to wander to all the ways you could potentially tire yourselves out, and Larissa chuckled in response. 

“You could hardly keep your eyes open a few minutes ago…”

“Well I’m wide awake now…” You slid your fingertips down Larissa’s sternum, towards the top of her silky camisole, and Larissa watched you with an amused smirk on her face.

“You’re not trying to seduce me, are you?” she teased, playfully narrowing her eyes - it made you blush as you realized you were doing a poor job of both hiding your building arousal and being seductive, and you averted your gaze.

“No?”

Larissa laughed. “Come here,” she murmured, adjusting herself into a seated position against the headboard and gently tugging at your waist. She placed a firm hand on your shoulder and turned you so that you sat between her legs with your back to her. You could feel her pillowy breasts against your back as you melted into her, her lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

“You’re so beautiful,” she whispered, her breath caressing the side of your face. She paid no mind to the ever-present blush on your cheeks as her left hand began to play with your breast through your t-shirt, her thumb flicking over your slowly hardening nipple. She lifted her right hand to her mouth, sucking her middle and ring finger between her lips for a moment, then released them with a pop - they glistened with her saliva as she brought the hand down to the waistband of your shorts.

“May I?” she husked and, when you breathed out a ‘yes’, slipped her hand beneath the waistband of both your shorts and your underwear - you immediately spread your legs to allow her better access. “Good girl…” 

Larissa’s wet fingers began to rub your clit, slowly and firmly, drawing a throaty sigh of pleasure from your lips as your head lolled to the side, your cheek resting against her shoulder. Her fingers dipped lower, gliding through your folds as her lips found your neck, pressing a series of soft kisses to your skin. You gasped when she bit into the junction between your neck and your shoulder, then moaned as her tongue soothed over the little dents her teeth had left in your skin.

“F-ffuck… Riss…” You bucked your hips against Larissa’s hand, wordlessly urging her towards your entrance - your silent request worked, two of Larissa’s fingers slipping inside you with ease and slowly sinking deeper. Your walls clenched around them, your eyes fluttering shut as you started to roll your hips, eager to have Larissa fill you.

Larissa’s fingers felt so damn good, the way they curled into your sweet spot, stroked your walls, made you mewl and whimper and moan - each ministration showed you how intimately Larissa knew your body, how dedicated she was to bringing you over the edge.

Your mind quickly filled with dirty thoughts and your arousal skyrocketed as you pictured Larissa above you, filling you to the hilt, pounding into you, and, suddenly, you ached for a stretch her fingers couldn’t quite provide.

“R-riss…?” you murmured between gasps of pleasure. Larissa let out a questioning hum that vibrated against your neck, causing you to mewl softly and briefly lose your train of thought. “C-can you… I m-mean would y-you want to - mmmh, fuck…” 

You’d never asked Larissa to shift for you before - during each of the few times she’d done it in the past, she’d always been the one to suggest it, and you suddenly found yourself unsure if she would take it the wrong way, as if you didn’t think she was enough for you just the way she was.

“What do you need, darling?” Larissa prompted directly into your ear, her voice so raspy with desire that it nearly made your eyes roll back in your head.

“C-could you shift and - mmh - f-fuck me?” you finally stuttered out, holding your breath as you waited for an answer - your nerves rising when Larissa’s fingers briefly stilled inside of you. “It’s okay if you d-don’t want to, I shouldn’t h-have as-”

The breath was knocked from your lungs by the sudden feeling of Larissa’s bulge pressing against your tailbone, the rest of your sentence dying in your throat as your mouth went dry.

“Shh…” Larissa murmured in reassurance. “I’m glad that you asked… I want to.” You could tell from the way that the words dripped from her lips like honey, her voice low and velvety, that she did want to - the second your mind was free of doubts, you pressed yourself back against her, the breathy sigh tumbling from your lips mixing with the deep moan that emanated from Larissa’s chest.

Larissa pulled her fingers out of you, her hands trailing up your body, slipping underneath your t-shirt and tugging it up, up, up, until she’d freed your upper body entirely. The t-shirt was tossed haphazardly aside, and Larissa’s hands immediately found your breasts, groping and squeezing, toying with your nipples, pulling moans and whimpers from your lips as she subtly rocked her hips against you from behind, grinding against your tailbone, teasing both herself and you.

“R-riss…” you warned breathily, your arousal so intense, so burning, so all-consuming that you could hardly stand it. 

“Sorry,” Larissa let out with a chuckle that was just as breathy, just as laced with desire, and she gripped your hips, urging you from between her legs and encouraging you to lie back against the pillows, so that she could get on her knees between your legs to make quick work of your shorts and underwear and toss them onto the floor beside the bed. She slipped her fingers beneath the waistband of her own trousers and gave them a tug, revealing black, lacy underwear that clearly wasn’t made to contain the bulge straining inside of it. Your legs spread a little wider without you realizing it, revealing your dripping cunt to Larissa, who quickly removed her remaining clothing to reveal her hard cock. 

She leaned over you, placing one hand beside your head to prop herself up as her other hand began to caress the outside of your thigh, sliding down to the back of your knee and urging you to bend it and spread yourself open as far as you could. She took hold of her cock and ran the tip up your slit, her cheeks flushing and her eyelashes fluttering as she felt how wet you were. “Fuck…” she mumbled, finding your entrance and slowly pushing in.

The stretch felt incredible, and Larissa was careful to go slowly, taking her time as she sheathed herself inside of you. It was hard to keep your eyes open but you wanted to watch Larissa, wanted to see every micro-expression crossing her face as she fucked you, so you fought against your fluttering eyelids, one of your hands reaching to grab Larissa’s forearm next to your head, needing the physical contact.

Larissa gave you a moment to adjust to the feeling of being full once she’d bottomed out inside of you, her now free hand reaching up to cup your cheek and draw you in for a kiss that was so tender it made your heart clench. 

Your cunt followed suit, your walls fluttering around Larissa’s cock as you started to subtly rock your hips against hers. “Mmmh… p-please…”

Every single nerve-ending in your body seemed to light up as Larissa began to thrust, the drag of her cock in and out of you feeling heavenly against your tight, slick walls. Larissa’s hand slid from your cheek to your throat, closing gently around it as her tongue pushed your lips apart and flicked eagerly against your own, her hair falling in waves around your face, acting as curtains and shutting out everything that wasn’t her.

There was something about her moans when she was fucking you with her own cock that drove you mad - they were deep, guttural, loud, a tangible representation of how good you made her feel as she started to pound into you. The air filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin, your moans mixing with Larissa’s grunts, the occasional bump of the bed frame against the wall. It was obscene and it made your head spin - judging by the arousal written plain as day across Larissa’s face, she was feeling exactly the same way, her eyes scrunched shut in absolute bliss.

You managed to pull a vulgar groan from Larissa’s chest when you sucked her tongue between your lips, humming against it, and her hips picked up their pace, your body jolting with every thrust. You reached a shaky hand between your legs, rubbing your clit with desperation, your breath hitching audibly in your chest.

Feeling the coil behind your navel tighten rapidly, you released Larissa’s tongue from between her lips to mumble out “f-fuck, g-gonna cum…”, your head tipping back against the pillows and your back arching as you tried your best to keep it together so that you and Larissa could cum together.

“It’s okay, d-darling,” Lariss murmured hoarsely against your lips. “‘m - ahh - c-close… let go…”

With Larissa’s permission, you came undone - unraveling completely beneath her. No longer able to keep your eyes open, you rode out your high with your eyes slammed shut, stars exploding against the backs of your eyelids, your orgasm prolonged by the feeling of Larissa trembling above you as she came as well, emptying her load into your cunt.

“Mmmm…” Larissa let out a breathy hum as her muscles began to relax and her cock went soft inside of you, and you could tell that her orgasm had tired her out - which had been your goal in the first place. She slumped against you, her hand releasing your throat and fisting at the sheets next to your head instead, her breath hot and heavy against your collarbone.

Your arms wrapped around her automatically, pulling her tightly against you, her skin warm and sweaty against your own. Her head rested in the crook of your neck, and she brushed her lips against your pulse point with a soft sigh and a sleepy smile.

~~~

The following morning was a slow one for you, with Larissa rising early to take care of some things before she had to drive Wednesday to the train station. 

You curled up on what had unofficially become your side of the bed, your eyes heavy-lidded with sleep as you watched Larissa get ready at her vanity, prying each and every bobby pin open with straight, white teeth, holding them between long, nimble fingers and sliding them into her hair, her usual updo slowly taking shape. It reminded you so much of the first time you woke up in this bed, a little confused and a little embarrassed and just a tad nervous - only this time, you were none of those things. 

Nestled beneath the covers and looking up at Larissa, who twirled her silvery locks between her fingers, whose bright blue eyes danced over her reflection in the mirror as she made herself presentable, you felt a sense of safety, content, of love so overwhelming that it stole the air from your lungs. And this time, instead of frantically trying to cover your bare torso with the sheets, you simply nuzzled against your pillow and allowed sleep to pull your eyes shut again, drifting back to sleep as Larissa took care not to wake you.

You woke a few hours later and took your time getting dressed and making coffee before heading for the door to Larissa’s office with two mugs in hand. You listened first for any signs that Larissa could be on the phone or in a meeting, before using your elbow to gently ease the door open just a crack and peeking into the office.

Larissa’s head turned automatically at the sound, her frantic typing ceasing almost instantly and her lips curling into a soft smile. “Good morning, darling,” she hummed, beckoning you into her office.

“Coffee?” you asked as you strode over to her desk, placing one of the mugs in front of Larissa and the other at the edge of her desk as you leaned down for a kiss, which the principal eagerly returned.

“Thank you,” she murmured against your lips, cupping your cheek as she pulled away. She brushed her thumb across your lower lip for a moment, her eyes tracking the movement, watching your lip snap back into place as she retracted her hand. Her attention fell to her coffee and she closed her eyes as she took a sip. “This is so much better than the coffee in the teacher’s lounge.” 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to sleep in so late…” Your brow furrowed as you saw the empty mug on Larissa’s desk, not one of her own. “Why did you go all the way there instead of just coming into the kitchen?”

“I didn’t want to wake you,” she replied simply. “You deserve the sleep.”

Your heart swelled at that, so much so that it was hard to keep the smile off your face. “And you deserve good coffee,” you countered with a raised eyebrow.

“I mean it, sleep in while you can.” Larissa smirked. “When you get to my age, your body will start to wake you up early against your will.”

You started to giggle, which turned into a full belly laugh, drawing a chuckle out of Larissa as well. Larissa returned to her work shortly thereafter and left you to prepare some food, as it was almost lunchtime. A meeting would cut Larissa’s lunch break short, but you joined her at her desk to soak in her company while you ate.

At a quarter to four, Larissa snapped her laptop shut and stood from her desk with a heavy sigh. “I want to take you to dinner tonight,” she declared as she slipped her phone into her handbag and rummaged around the top drawer of her desk for her car keys. 

“Yes, ma’am.” You grinned up at her, rising to your feet as well to meet Larissa halfway for a quick kiss.

“Wednesday’s train leaves in an hour, I should be back around 5 at the latest,” Larissa added as she headed for the door, and you called out a goodbye before she shut the door to her office behind herself. You figured that, if Larissa would be back at 5, and would probably want to check her emails again and get changed, you’d be heading out for dinner around 6:30 at the earliest - plenty of time to just chill. 

You ended up getting more time than you’d bargained for - when Larissa still wasn’t back by 5:15, you shot her a quick text, asking if everything was alright. Perhaps Wednesday’s train was delayed, you figured, that wouldn’t surprise you considering how public transportation could be around these parts.

Still, it wasn’t like Larissa to not answer at all, to not even read your text, and you found yourself growing increasingly worried when the clock hit 5:45 and you still hadn’t heard a peep from your partner, your stomach churning uncomfortably.

You stood from where you’d been seated in front of the fire, pacing about as you wondered how much she would have to be delayed to warrant calling the police. As you stood by the window, watching the sky slowly darken as the sun disappeared on the horizon, two figures came into view, crossing the courtyard and heading straight for what appeared to be a large conservatory at the edge of the school’s property.

The back of the young boy’s head looked vaguely familiar, though you couldn’t be quite sure. What you were sure of, however, was that you recognized the girl at his side - and that she was not supposed to be here.

x

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[eddiegettingshot]

ok so here’s my thoughts and feelings it’s not speculation this is just what i would like to see. based on 804. i think that the conversation with mike is obviously a reflection of eddie’s thoughts and fears when it comes to his own father. AND i have long-since felt that eddie’s own views on his sexuality are that he’s never thought about it ever, both because it’s never occurred to him to do so and because he’s never felt like he could. like, my Belief is that his story up until now HAS been his struggle with Heteronormativity, and that figuring out his attraction to men will represent an answer and be a relief rather than set the stage for further internal strife. so what i would like is for the real issue to go back to his parents—i don’t think eddie himself would feel like there’s something wrong with him for being queer, and i also think it would suck shit for his dad to actually be homophobic. instead imo i hope it’s about the expectations pressing on him from all sides, as always; i’d like his actual issue to be with the fact that he’s never felt like he would be wholly accepted for who he is as his parents’ son. being the man of the house, being raised catholic, being a teenage father and failing at it in his parents’ eyes—these are the things that have stifled his ability to turn inward at all and understand who the fuck he is and make room for what he wants for himself. soooo basically i would like to see him tell his parents or just his father this, and to have ramon be floored by the fact that eddie ever thought he wouldn’t accept him, and then be like, i’m sorry i made you feel that way, of course i love you and you should be whoever you are. and they can start to make amends that way, a little bit (not too much). and also chris comes home. meanwhile eddie’s demon mother can continue to be a villain who keeps giving voice to their silent expectations as long as eddie can be mad at her for it i don’t care. homophobic helena whatever. and then buck and eddie kiss obviously. and this way self-discovery, masculinity, parentification, buddie canon, and eddie loving his own son can all coalesce in a beautiful coming out arc 🫶🏽

[medusagorgongirl1]

I headcanon that it took Tim so long to come out is because he struggled with internalized homophobia. Like, the only time tim got to see his parents was when the visited for gala's and other upper class shit, so that means to receive positive attention he was always acting as the most picture perfect son. Even after their death he would've viewed the public 'Timothy Drake heir of Drake Industries' as a sacred thing; something he shouldn't taint. And obviously being queer isn't something that would go over well with the rich and elite of gotham, so Tim hid that part of himself. In his mind, he's not doing it out of shame, but because it's just something that doesn't need to be common knowledge. Idk I just think to be raised around not explicitly homophobic parents, but being in that environment where there's that unsaid feeling of being unwelcome. It's a niche thing but some of my favorite fics are the ones try to include this

Bonus: Tim on young justice and compartmentalizing the shit out potential feelings for Kon, because fuck, it isn't normal to obsess that much over a smirk and earring