Can I get the thh boys with an s/o who's the ultimate cheerleader and the boys finding out that people are insulting their s/o purely based of the stereotypes and it's starting to get to their s/o. Like these have bad opinions on cheerleaders purely because of TV and movies (oh boy do I have stories)
Aw nonnie, nobody should treat you that way based off of a dumb dumb stereotype :^( SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT//
~
Byakuya Togami
“Byakuya?” you nearly whisper, frowning as you stare at your lap. You hear him hum from where he’s sitting on the chair across from you, reading. “You don’t think I’m snobbish, do you?” It’s silent for a few moments, and you almost regret asking, opening your mouth to take it back before he cuts you off.
“Where did you get that assumption?” you hear him snap his book shut, placing it on the table next to him as he focuses fully on you.
You shrug vaguely, still avoiding his gaze, “Some people at school keep saying stuff about me because I’m a cheerleader.”
“And you would believe them, why?”
You give him another shrug, sighing softly, “I-I don’t know. After a while of hearing the same things you start to wonder if it’s true.” You hear him shuffle again, and your gaze flickers up to see him swinging one of his legs over the other as he sighs through his nose.
“Let’s not forget that you’re an Ultimate and they’re not. They’re beneath you, jealous of your talent, and taking it out on you in hopes that it will make you fall beneath them. They’re not worth your time, and they never will be,” he states matter-of-factly. “Commoners will never understand, so there’s no point in taking anything they say into consideration.”
Giving him a small smile, you thank him as you feel some of the doubts that plagued your mind dissipate. He only hums in response, picking his book back up and flicking it open again. Despite his cold demeanor, the way his gaze lingers on you before returning to his book tells you all you need to know.
Hifumi Yamada
“Y/N! Y/N, I’m here!” Hifumi practically sings, knocking lightly on your door. You clasp your hand over your mouth, trying to calm yourself down enough to answer him without any shakiness in your voice. You try to quickly dry your seemingly never ending stream of tears, sniffling loudly. “Y/N?” Hifumi calls again, this time considerably less cheerful.
“O-one second, Hifumi,” you call out, silently cursing yourself as your voice cracks in the middle. You pray that Hifumi doesn’t think much of it.
“Oh, okay! ...Wait, are you crying?!” Damn. Well, no point in hiding it now. You open the door with another sniffle, moving slightly to let him almost rush inside before closing it again. “Y/N, what’s wrong?! You can talk to me, I happen to be a very good listener,” he says with an almost proud tone, smiling at you.
“Thank you, Hifumi,” you smile, wiping your leftover tears away. You sit down on your bed, beckoning him over to sit next to you, which he gladly does. He waits patiently for you to begin, offering you his hand with a kind smile. You interlock your fingers gratefully.
You take a moment before beginning to explain everything. You tell Hifumi about everything people had been saying about you, how they view cheerleaders as bad people solely based off of media and were judging you based off of that as well. He listens to you quietly, occasionally nodding his head (and with a little huff of agitation) to let you know he’s still listening.
“I’ve been trying to just let it go, but recently it’s been too much, y’know?” you finish, sighing heavily. Hifumi nods again, eyebrows furrowing as he seemingly contemplates what to say.
“...How messed up!” he settles on, shaking his head angrily, huffing again through his nose, “Judging people based on something like that... that’s like judging someone solely based on what anime they watch!” He clenches the hand that’s not holding yours into a fist, gritting his teeth. You laugh quietly at his comparison, making his scowl relax back into a small smile.
“Don’t listen to them, Y/N! Doing something you love... it’s way more important than listening to jerks like them who don’t even know you!”
Kiyotaka Ishimaru
Your eyes gloss over the same math equation for what seems like the tenth time, trying to cement it into your brain. Each time you read it it feels like it goes through your mind and then directly out of it as soon as your eyes move on. No matter how hard you try, you just can’t focus on anything.
Your mind keeps drifting back to the comments that were being made towards you recently. They circle throughout your mind, fogging any chance of focusing on this study session. You’d been trying to let it all roll off of your back, just how you’d always done, being the Ultimate Cheerleader doesn’t always warrant the kindest treatment, especially because of how the media treats cheerleaders. Lately, though, it seemed as if the comments being made were digging deeper, cutting harsher than they usually did.
“Hey, Taka?” you break the silence that had taken over the room previously. You hear Taka hum in acknowledgement, raising his head slightly to peek up at you from his spot in front of you on his bed. “Can... can I talk to you about something?”
You can tell he’s about to oppose in favor of waiting until after you both study, but he promptly closes his mouth when he sees the serious look on your face. Flipping his book closed and setting it aside, he scoots closer to you, “Of course you can, Y/N.” He takes the book from your lap as well, closing it and setting it off next to his own. “What would you like to talk about? I am happy to listen and show any support I can!”
You smile at his enthusiasm, shifting your gaze to your lap and taking a deep breath to collect your scattered thoughts. He waits patiently, folding his hands in his lap as you decide what to say.
“Lately a lot of people have been talking about me,” you start. “Not in a good way. They’ve been, uh, insulting me because I’m a cheerleader,” you see Taka stiffen, furrowing his eyebrows, “And they think that all cheerleaders are awful because of some stupid tv shows. And usually I try to let it go, but it’s just been... worse lately, I guess.”
“This- this is unacceptable! Who are they?! I’ll give them a stern talking to- no, not only that, but I’ll give them detention, too, and-!” you cut him off by reaching out to gently grab his hand.
He blushes as you lace your fingers with his, smiling at him, “Thank you, Taka.”
“O-of course! They’re completely wrong to judge you based off of a stereotype, Y/N,” he firmly states, nodding for emphasis. “A-and for what it’s worth,” he pauses as if debating something in his head, and then he very quickly lifts your hand to press a kiss to the back of it, blush intensifying, “I-I... I think you’re pretty amazing!”
Leon Kuwata
“Yo, Y/N, you in there?” you hear Leon knocking on your door. Sniffling, you struggle to wipe the still falling tears from your cheeks, choking back a sob. Leon knocks again after a few moments, prompting you to try and call out a “hold on”, but your voice breaks in the middle. “...Y/N, you okay?”
You shakily open the door, revealing your distraught form to him as he ruffles his hair nervously. “Whoa, hey, what’s wrong?” he asks, following you inside your room as you back up. He closes the door behind him, furrowing his eyebrows in concern as you sniffle. He slides his arms around your waist, pulling you close to rest your head on his chest.
You bury your head into his chest, shaking as you try to explain with a steady voice. He rubs your back soothingly as you gradually explain everything to him, patiently waiting in moments where your voice becomes too shaky to speak. You choke out how horrible you’ve been feeling because of what people were saying about you, how it’s become too much for you to handle.
Leon holds you close as you cry into his chest, only guiding you to sit on your bed once you start to calm down. It’s only when you pull away from him that you realize how tightly he’s clenching his jaw. “All of that is bullshit,” he eventually says, a hard edge to his tone, “They’re all dumbasses! Being a cheerleader doesn’t define who you are!”
You slouch forward, letting your forehead rest on his shoulder. He wraps his arms around you, letting you relax into him. You tiredly thank Leon, a small smile playing on your lips as he kisses your head. “Don’t let jerks like that get to you, Y/N, they’re stupid as hell. I’ll kick their asses,” he offers, voice contrastingly soft for the harsh words. Smiling, you sigh against his shoulder, thanking him quietly as he holds you.
Makoto Naegi
Leaning back against Makoto’s chest, you sigh softly as your mind wanders from watching Makoto play his video game, arms circled around you to hold the controller. Your eyes stay trained on the colorful world on the screen as your thoughts drift off to more troublesome thoughts. You’d always been looked down upon by others for being the Ultimate Cheerleader, and while it wasn’t you specifically that was the problem (rather the media’s interpretation of cheerleaders), recently it had started to bother you more than usual.
People just seemed to automatically assume that you were snobby, or mean, or talked behind people’s backs without actually ever talking to you. It frustrated you, how could you just assign someone a personality based on what they like to do? Based on something that isn’t even accurate?
“Y/N?” Snapping back to reality, you notice the game had been paused. Tilting your head back to look at Makoto, you see him frowning down at you. “Are you okay? I’ve said your name three times already.”
“Oh, sorry,” you mumble, “I was just thinking.” Makoto’s gaze lingers on you even after you tilt your head back to look at the still paused screen again.
“You know, if something’s bothering you, I’d be happy to listen,” he reminds you, placing the controller to the side.
“You sure?” you look back up at him, “If you want to keep playing I don’t mind.”
He shakes his head, smiling, “The video game can wait.” A small smile grows onto your face, thanking him quietly.
“It’s just...” you sigh again, trying to organize your thoughts, “Recently the things people are saying about me has been getting to me. They’re judging me without even talking to me just because I’m a cheerleader, and it- it just sucks, y’know?”
“Yeah, I understand,” Makoto tightens his hold on you, tugging you closer back into his chest, “Just remember that they don’t know you for you. You’re an amazing person, and if they can’t see past the obviously fake image of cheerleading, then they’re missing out.”
You relax further into him, thanking him quietly as he places a kiss on the top of your head, “Of course, no one should judge someone based on what they like to do.”
Mondo Oowada
Curled up in an empty hallway in the school, you furiously rub your eyes as tears stream down your face. You don’t want to be crying right now, damn it! Mondo is about to pick you up for your date, and if he sees you crying then he’s going to ask why, and then you’ll have to explain how people are insulting you for some dumb stereotype-
This only causes you to cry harder, shoulders shaking as you’re reminded of the insults that are constantly being thrown at you for being the Ultimate Cheerleader. You try to calm yourself down, Mondo will be here any minute, you remind yourself, but you can’t seem to settle your thoughts down.
“Yo, Y/N, you h-” Mondo cuts off as he rounds the corner to see you, hugging your knees tightly to yourself and hiding away from him. You seem to only curl further into yourself at his voice. “Shit, Y/N, what’s wrong?” he tries to soften his voice, kneeling down beside you and placing a hand on your back, stroking it soothingly.
At the feeling of his hand, you suddenly open yourself up, throwing yourself into his arms. He catches you with a quiet “whoa”, arms wrapping tightly around you. He shifts to sit against the wall, pulling you fully into his lap as you sob into his chest. He continues to rub your back, moving his other hand up to stroke your hair in an attempt to soothe you.
He’s silent even as you start to calm down, letting you be the first to speak. You linger against him for a few more moments as you tremble, head pressed against his chest. You eventually lean back, apologizing for sobbing on his shirt without any warning. He shakes his head, “Don’t fuckin’ apologize. If you need to cry, you need to cry, y’know?”
You nod, silent for another moment as you sniffle. You shakily ask if it’s okay for you to vent to him, to which he scoffs and tells you that “of fucking course you can, it’d be shitty as hell for me to not let you talk about what’s bothering you”. You giggle a bit at that, sliding your hand down to take one of his own in yours, squeezing it as a thank you.
You explain to him all of the things that people have been saying about you, how you try to keep your head high and keep going, but it’s all getting to be too much for you to handle. How people aren’t even trying to get to know you for you, and rather just assuming the way you are based off of the stereotypical cheerleader in media.
“What the fuck?! I’ll beat some fuckin’ respect into them!” Mondo threatens, clenching the hand that wasn’t holding yours into a fist. You take his fist with your other hand, gently unraveling his fingers to interlock with your own. He sighs heavily, tugging you closer to him to press a kiss to your forehead.
“None of that is fucking true, got it? They’re dumbasses for just assuming shit about you. You’re kick ass and nothing they say can change that.”
Yasuhiro Hagakure
“Yo, Y/N, there you are!” Yasuhiro laughs loudly, “Think you could give me the answers to the math test?” You jolt in surprise, head snapping up from where you’d settled it against your knees. You quickly raise your hand to wipe away your tears, clearing your throat as Yasuhiro finally notices the state you’re in.
He’s silent for a moment before kneeling beside you, a smile on his face, “Hey, I don’t know what’s bothering you, but it’ll totally work out! You need to trust the process.” He nods sagely, and you huff out a sigh of amusement at his blatant optimism. “You can talk to me if you want! I’m pretty good at listening.”
He sits beside you as you nod gratefully, leaning your head on his shoulder as you tell him why you were crying. He listens as you vent to him about everything being said about you, offering a kind smile whenever your voice shakes too much to continue for a moment. When you finish, he’s considerably less optimistic than when he found you.
“...Jeez, how rude!” he angrily exclaims, clenching his fist as he huffs, “That’s totally messed up! Those guys really have a huge ego to be insulting you when they’re so awful!” You sigh, shrugging vaguely and pulling yourself closer to him. He sighs as he wraps an arm around your waist, calming down as you cuddle up to him. “Don’t worry, Y/N, I have a feeling it’s gonna bite them in the ass, soon,” he sends you a wink. You laugh quietly as he tugs you closer to him, letting a comfortable silence fall on you two.
Chihiro Fujisaki
“Hey, Chihiro, you busy right now?” you ask quietly, leaning against the doorframe as he types away on his computer. He swivels in around in his chair with a smile at your voice.
“No, not at all,” he says softly, beckoning you in with a small wave of his hand. You close the door behind you, shuffling over to sit on his bed as he spins his chair to follow you. He seems to notice the more serious mood you’re in, for he tilts his head and asks if you’re alright.
“Well,” you swallow thickly, trying to ignore the lump in your throat, “Can I... talk about something?”
“Of course, Y/N,” he smiles at you again, but this time there’s a certain kindness to it that makes you feel at peace. With that comforting feeling, you begin to tell Chihiro about what’s been bothering you. As you start, Chihiro stands up and slides onto the bed next to you, folding his hands as he listens to you. As you explain how people had been berating you he gasps softly, a worried yet frustrated expression forming on his face.
“That’s awful,” he murmurs, tears pricking his eyes, “You’re so kind and caring... How could anyone say such horrible things?” Peeking up at you from where his head is tilted down, his face flushes as he leans forward to softly kiss you on the cheek. “P-please don’t listen to them, Y/N. None of what they said is true.”
“They fudgin’ what?!” Kiyondo shouts, clenching his fists, “I’ll give them detention for fudgin’ life! I’ll kick their butts!”
“No, Kiyondo, please don’t beat them up-” you struggle to restrain him from rushing out of the room.
“I have to! They made you feel like crap, Y/N!” You grab ahold of his clenched fists, unraveling them to lace your fingers together in hopes of calming him down. He still struggles to make his way to the door, but he starts to settle down as you squeeze his hands gently. He meets your gaze as he returns the simple affection, a smile hinting at his usual scowl.
He sighs, still fuming but no longer itching to sprint out of your room, “Shoot, sorry Y/N. Guess I got too rash, huh?”
You shake your head, pecking his cheek in appreciation and laughing under your breath as he tenses, a pink hue dusting his cheeks, “Thank you, Kiyondo, I really appreciate it.”
“O-of fudgin’ course, Y/N! Everything they said about you is crap! They’re dumbbutts for judgin’ you based off of somethin’ like that,” he says firmly, “Tomorrow I’m going to give them all fudgin’ detention, and they won’t mess with you again!”
anonymous asked: could i request gonta, mondo and nekomaru with an s/o who likes to kinda rest against their backs cause she really likes the warm, safe, protected feeling of being up against a strong back?
a/n: so wholesome - i hope you enjoy!
title: lean on me
pairing(s): gonta gokuhara x reader, mondo owada x reader, nekomaru x reader
post type: drabble
premise: you’re feeling kinda down, good thing your boyfriend has your back
i tried posting this on tiktok and insta but my art never really bangs anywhere else so i wanted to try here :3 i am the biggest leslie meyers fan ever idc
gender neutral despite the term. lots of death in this one (guns, falling, etc). assault, technically. read with caution.
°•. ☾ .•°
You limped through the halls of the abandoned building, desperately sobbing and wailing.
“Come on, doll, I haven’t even done anything to you! You know I never would.”
“F-fuck off Stan! You’re a fucking m-monster!” You called over your shoulder.
“Baby, baby, baby. You’re such a sweet little thing, complimenting me like that.” He laughed, sending a chill through you- and, embarrassingly, butterflies to your stomach.
“I always liked you best, you know. If you hadn’t been so fucking persistent, I wouldn’t have to do this.”
°•. ☾ .•°
Things still didn’t make sense. Stan had innocently invited you and his friends out for Halloween, to the top floor of the abandoned South Park asylum in the woods. He brought weed and booze, and everyone was having a good time. He had even convinced his goody-two shoes ex-girlfriend to come.
Sometime in the night, the powerful flashlight Stan brought conveniently had run out of battery. When it sprung to life (thanks to Kyle’s over-prepared nature) some of the group was dead on the floor or missing. Everybody started accusing each other, but you were an easy voice of reason.
Stan had slow clapped when you, Kyle, Kenny and Butters had figured out it had to be him.
“Real well done, folks. Honestly brilliant,” He said, sarcastic, as he moved out from the shadows. “Just how do you expect to get out of this, though?” He had grinned wolfishly, producing his father’s pistol from his pocket.
“S-Stan, put that thing away,” Kyle’s shaky voice wailed. “Please?”
“Hmmm…” Stan tapped his chin with the barrel, pretending to think about it. “No.”
The bullet went practically between the ginger’s eyes as the shot rang out. Kenny and Butters gaped, the latter shaking his head in fear.
“A-aw hamburgers. Fuck.” He backed up, which turned out to be the wrong move, as all the black haired boy had to do was give him a little shove- and he tumbled out a sixth story window, unfortunately landing on his neck with a sickening crack.
While Stan was distracted, Kenny had managed to tug you along, trying to escape but getting turned around in the dark and maze-like halls as you ran.
“I never thought Stan would fuckin’ snap,” He grumbled, almost more annoyed than anything. “What have any of us ever done to warrant this?”
“I know you’re still fucking here.” Stan shouted, as Ken pulled you into a room. He hid behind the door, ushering you to hide in an old cabinet.
When Stan’s heavy breathing and clunky footfalls sounded right outside the room, you had to cover your mouth. You nearly whimpered as you heard the two of them scuffle, Kenny having bravely ambushed the killer boy from behind the door. When you heard a body drop, it didn’t really matter who it was. You ran.
Unfortunately, hurrying down a flight of stairs can and will fuck up your ankle! Who the hell knew.
So there you were, exchanging words with a killer as you slammed on the door to the stairwell, sobbing.
“Come on, baby. You thought I wouldn’t lock that? Oh, you’re so cute I almost wanna leave you alive. Nobody has to know it was me, right?” He chuckled, and you whipped around to face him as he pinned you against the door.
“S-Stan, you killed our friends…”
“Aw, honey…” He shook his head, wrenching a knee between your legs as he squeezed your hip with one hand. The other moved to place a long hunting blade to your neck. “I sure did. But you’re so fucked in the head, you’re still fucking blushing under me.”
“N-no, no no get off-!” He shushed you, cooing and digging the knife deeper, enough to draw a drop or two of blood to spill down your throat.
No no you’re not listening to me why does no one talk about Cartmans bus pass???
It’s officially licensed merch and it says his hair is curly so why are we not talking about curly hair Cartman? Cupid Cartman (or ‘Cupid Me’) has curly hair and that’s just Cartman in a Cupid form if you will. I mean you could always say “yeah well Cupid has always had curly hair” but shut up I’m talking!!! We only see Cupid Cartman with a hat on during Cupid Ye and that’s presumably the only time he ever wears one, let alone clothes, SO HIS HAIR IS JUST HOW IT IS ALL NATURAL OR WHATEVER!! The way I’m taking it is that Cartman and his Cupid counterpart have curly hair and it’s not just because Cupid usually has curly hair. I now present you an hc, Cartmans hair kinda looks straight like how Stan’s does because he literally always has his hat on. His hair isn’t incredibly curly like Kyles but it’s curly god damn it!!!! It’s just always flattened or a lil greasy like Stans probably is. Poor Stan, his hair is practically stuck to his forehead with how greasy it is 😭😭
“Harley what are we even talking about?” I hear you ask, AND THE ANSWER IS I DUNNO BUT WHAT I DO KNOW IS CARTMANS HAIR IS AT LEAST SOMEWHAT CURLY AND THATS ALL I GOTTA SAY
