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huapaiqingyuan · 2 years

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throughout the different stages of growing up, i swung wildly from identifying with arata and taichi even suo a lot of their experiences and relationships mirror our own, making them characters that we can empathise with and understand easily

someone else brought this up and i agreed. this page did strike me as odd: is it a retcon as some suggest? or is arata looking back at his friendship with taichi through rose-tinted glasses?

i touched a little upon how the anime and manga differed here but i don’t think this was a point where the anime and manga actually diverged, unlike what this tweet suggests.

because taichi does notice that chihaya’s attention slips away from him, which is why the conversation shifted towards being about arata.

(i’m just going to dub this the and the ensuing parts before they become karuta buddies the Chihaya Incident™ for clearer reference)

we then see that the class has a negative attitude towards him.

that’s not to say the tweet is entirely wrong though. the anime did take the above page out. perhaps because it was too mean or explicit? regardless, the reality is that both manga and anime followed the same formula of chihaya notices arata → taichi is mean towards arata

now let’s examine the page again. why would arata then think taichi would have approached him first if not for chihaya? it’s clear that his classmates seems to be bullying him even prior to these few panels.

if we find arata’s thinking to be odd, it’s because we assume that taichi was an active participant in his bullying prior to the Chihaya Incident™ but there is not textual evidence to actually suggest that. and there definitely would not have been an escalation in the ostracism that arata faced if not for the Chihaya Incident™ either.

putting that aside, perhaps we assumed falsely and that taichi hadn’t been actively bullying arata. it does still seem like a huge leap for taichi to go from bystander to pro-actively befriending the class outcast.

except, maybe not really. because we don’t actually have much to work with here. so i don’t think it’s fair to say that this page was a retcon. there is no actual in-text contradiction occuring. upon reflection, this dissonance relies on a lot of our assumptions of these characters and how they behave outside of karuta and the Chihaya Incident™. we weren’t really privy to such info because they didn’t serve any purpose. if anything, this page was arata’s own retrospection that reflected more on his perceptions of taichi’s character than on taichi’s actual behavior. whether we believe taichi would have became besties with arata is one thing, it’s a completely separate matter if arata himself does. and at the end of the day, that is what actually matters.

#wty art #msm tch #elementary school arc #those screenshots are blurry af but i already told you what chapter it is so you can go look it up yourself #particularly because taichi naturally attracts people #why is a debate for another day #but the effect of this is that his ass is essentially kissed a lot #no one in his class poses a challenge to him academically and we see hes surprised someone else has all 100 poems memorised #he doesnt know arata has a background in karuta so having the poems memorised is a natural consequence of that #but even then when he did come to know of this #he was still impressed by arata's ability to memorise the card placements so that the whole glasses stealing thing was rendered moot #arata challenges taichi in a way that none of his peers do and i do think eventually #once his head is out of his ass he would have approached arata #because what set chihaya apart from the rest wasnt that she was pretty #no it was the fact that she wasnt a complete ass kisser #she'd go oh wow taichi youre so smart #but shes not a doormat that would take his teasing lying down and will retaliate #so arata by virtue of being different from the rest of their classmates would have made taichi approach him #............eventually #but the flipside isnt true because i do think arata is in his own way very insecure #i think a lot of it is from the class difference as well as him just not fitting in as someone not from tokyo #but also does arata do anything BUT karuta? would taichis gestures of friendships #all not involving karuta even reach him #because if we look at the limited scenes we have of arata #his relationship with his peers arent the greatest #he seems like a loner even in an equal playing field (his highschool)#hes just socially awkward and rather passive in his relationships #hes getting better! but that doesnt change that he wasnt a peoples person as a kid #chihayafuru

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juyomiao · 1 year

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the eternal dilemma every time i open google docs : do i write fanfiction or do i actually do my english homework

#i hate my new english teacher like omg wdym i actually Have to study n have homework to do #he was so upset abt the fact that no one in the class knew what the capital of wales is like #is it that serious #n then bc of that he asked us to name 5 cities in england but he decided which ones were ok or not #like manchester cambridge oxford etc. didnt count bc they were 'too known'#like bro u r asking a bunch of 18-20+yos who r repeating one or more school yrs abt stuff we did in elementary school #n then bc of that he told us to do a research on ireland that is literally so unnecessary bc it has nothing to do with the program #we only need the essential stuff to graduate pls im so tired i should've finished high school last year #dont make this harder than it already is smh #like this is not public school if i wanted to do shit that is irrelevant to my course of study i'd go there

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chiisana-lion · 2 years

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#dunno what caused this but ive just been getting really scared and stupidly worried lately #sometimes i think about how i could lose someone at any moment and i might not even know #just stuck there waiting for some kind of answer for someone who wont and cant come back #and it really. terrifies me #my friends are everyhing to me and i just want them all to be okay always #and especially my best friend. if anything were to happen to him i really dont know what i'd do #i tell him and everyone else how much i love them all the time every time i can because what if they were to disappear and leave one day #and we didnt really leave off on a good note #not like i think that might happen anytime soon but just. what if #i love my friends. so much. i cant even put into words how much they mean to me and how theyve helped me get through this hell ive been #going through these past couple of years or so #maybe im annoying and talkative and sensitive and stuff. but the fact thwy still somehow like me the same is really #dunno man in elementary & middle school i lived shamelessly and yet im sure that for every friend i had there was like 5 kids who hated me #and towards high school i essentially was constantly on edge making sure i dont cause trouble for anyone because hey why should i bother #when none of them would really see me for me. just that quiet kid who draws in the corner and doesnt particularly fit in #the novelty of having a new kid transfer in lasted for like a month tops that time when everyone realized i was actually boring as hell #not into celebrities dont listen to mainstream music not interested in guy talk etc etc #i did meet a couple kids with similar interests at some point but im sure they were more casual fans and not absolutely obsessed as i am #and i feel like my sudden energy when talking about it and running my mouth w that topic kinda put them off #so i just. keep everything to myself #so really finding people who actually do like me and enjoy my rambles and i can hwar then ramble in return #and play games or talk abt our silly blorbos with is just. damn this is way more than i deserve isnt it #and i really feel like that could all just. fall apart at some point #and thats the last thing i want #but honestly #i dont mind if they grew to hate me. ill still love them nonetheless. just please dont leave me behind i cant go through that again #might delete this later im just kind of. yeah #sorry to anyone who reads this im kind of going through it

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marielle-heller · 3 months

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it's my fault for working a C@tholic school but Cath0lics are so fucking sensitive jesus

#nearly cried cause i was essentially reprimanded for wearing bunny ears in an elementary school #sorry i'm trying to be joyful #i'm not going to wear bunny ears during the 50 days AFTER easter apparently starts #no one celebrates it then #do catholics like.... cry when they go to the store and see consumerism or?

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fleshdyke · 1 year

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shjsjegdbjdr

#going into this im not even totally sure what im gonna end up talking abt so tw for like everything. sui sh csa etc #i have dreams and things i want to do with my life and i dont want to die but i dont know how to handle emotions like this #so my first response has always just been suicide attempt #its so stupid what im upset about but like. idk. i cant get it out of my brain.#its literally just bc my friends are sort of drifting apart from me at lunch. its just that. and it seems so stupid and small to say but i #feel like ending my entire life over this so idk #like im so fucking scared of being alone at lunch. im so scared of being alone. and i tried talking to them about it and i know they have #good intentions but they said ‘we all have other friends and we aren’t each other’s main friends anymore and that’s okay’#and like. i don’t. i don’t have anyone else to go to #and they basically said it wasn’t their problem. and they didn’t say that verbatim and i’m making them sound so much worse than they are and #i love them all but thats essentially what it felt like to me #and i dont want to bring it up again bc theyve dealt with my shit enough and im mature enough to deal with my own problems #it just. it feels so awful being so fucking alone. i had an actual friend group for a while and my meds were working andi forgot how fucking #bad everything feels. im so paranoid theyre going to drop me and then i don’t know what to do #if they drop me i seriously think i might try to kill myself because i don’t fucking know what to do without them #like it feels like its only a matter of time and i know its not the end of the world but it feels like it. it really fucking feels like it #i feel so inherently unwanted and i know ive said this like a million times over but the only time anyone has ever wanted me was when i was #like 6. and i cant even fucking remember it. like every cis girl is like ‘universal woman experience of being chased by boys you dont want #in elementary school’ and its like. its not universal i would give absolutely anything for that to happen to me bc i know logically that’s #awful and i dont actually want it but god it hurts so fucking much to be unwanted. no one has ever wanted me once. and it scares me that i #want some man to want me so badly he just takes it and i don’t actually want that but it would reassure me that im not broken #and i know its unrealistic to expect to be in a relationship in hs but all of my friends are and it just feels like what the fuck is wrong w #me that no one has ever looked twice other than to bully me. what can i do to change it. will i ever be wanted #everyone i know has someone that loves them unconditionally and not even like romantically like everyone has a best friend at least #but im just so fucking alone. i dont want to be alone forever. i dont know what to do #i dont know how to handle these emotions so i just want to kill myself about it #but i dont actually want to die so i just sit there and cut my arms and hope that someone will ask if i’m okay bc there’s no way i’m #going to volunteer this shit to someone who didnt ask #rambles #vent

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hyperlexichypatia · 4 months

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This post reminded me of it, but my partner has observed that in contemporary gender discourse, maleness is so linked to adulthood and femaleness is so linked to childhood, that there are no "boys" or "women," only "men" and "girls."

This isn't exactly new -- for as long as patriarchy has existed, women have been infantilized, and "adult woman" has been treated as something of an oxymoron. Hegemonic beauty standards for women emphasize youthfulness, if not actual neoteny, and older women are considered "too old" to be attractive without ever quite being old enough to make their own decisions. There may be cultural allowances for the occasional older "wise woman," but a "wise woman" is always dangerously close to being a madwoman, or a witch. No matter how wise a woman is, she is never quite a rational agent. As Hanna K put it, "as a woman you're always either too young or too old for things, because the perfect age is when you're a man."

But the framing of underage boys as "men" has shifted, depending on popular conceptualizations of childhood and gender roles. Sometimes children of any gender are essentially feminized and grouped with women (the entire framing of "women and children" as a category). In the U.S. in the 21st century, the rise of men's rights and aggressively sexist ideology has correlated with an increased emphasis on little boys as "men" -- thus slogans like "Teach your son to be a man before his teacher teaches him to be a woman."

Of course, thanks to ageism and patriarchy (which literally means, not "rule by men," but "rule by fathers"), boys don't get any of the social benefits of being considered "men." They don't get to vote, make their own medical decisions, or have any of their own adult rights. They might have a little more childhood freedom than girls, if they're presumed to be sturdier and less vulnerable to "predators," but, for the most part, being considered "men" as young boys doesn't really get boys any more access to adult rights. What it does get them is aggressively gender-policed, often with violence. A little boy being "a man" means that he's not allowed to wear colors, have feelings, or experience the developmental stages of childhood.

This shifts in young adulthood, as boys forced into the role of "manhood" become actual men. As I've written about, I believe the trend of considering young adults "children" is harmful to everyone, but primarily to young women, young queer and trans people, and young disabled people. Abled, cisgender, heterosexual young men are rarely denied the rights and autonomy of adulthood due to "brain maturity."

What's particularly interesting is that, because transphobes misgender trans people as their birth-assigned genders, they constantly frame trans girls as "men" and trans men as "girls." A 10 year old trans girl on her elementary school soccer team is a "MAN using MAN STRENGTH on helpless GIRLS," while a 40 year old trans man is a "Poor confused little girl." Anyone assigned male at birth is born a scary, intimidating adult, while anyone female assigned at birth never becomes old enough to make xyr own decisions.

Feminist responses have also really fluctuated. Occasionally, feminists have played into the idea of little boys as "men," especially in trans-exclusionary rhetoric, or in one notorious case where members of a women's separatist compound were warned about "a man" who turned out to be a 6-month-old infant. There's periodic discourse around "Empowering our girls" or "Raising our boys with gentle masculinity," but for the most part, my problem with mainstream feminist rhetoric in general is that it tends to frame children solely as a labor imposed on women by men, not as subjects (and specifically, as an oppressed class) at all.

Second-wave feminists pushed back hard on calling adult women "girls" -- but they didn't necessarily view "women" as capable of autonomous decision-making, either. Adult women were women, but they might still need to be protected from their own false consciousness. As laws in the U.S., around medical privacy and autonomy, like HIPAA, started more firmly linking the concepts of autonomy with legal adulthood, and fixing the age of majority at 18, third-wave feminists embraced referring to women as "girls." Sometimes this was in an intentionally empowering way ("girl power," "girl boss"), which also served to shield women (mostly white, mostly bourgeois/wealthy) from criticism of their participation in racism and capitalism. But it also served to reinforce the narrative of women as "girls" needing to be protected from "men" (and their own choices).

I'm still hoping for a feminist politic that is pro-child, pro-youth, pro-disability, pro-autonomy, pro-equality, that rejects the infantilization of women, the adultification of boys, the objectification of children, the misgendering of trans people, and the imposition of gender roles.

#youth rights #ageism #feminism #sexism #intersectionality #capitalism #body autonomy #bodily autonomy

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ratsarecute4 · 3 months

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Some Hatchetfield Headcanons

Richie had a Warrior Cats phase in elementary school

Ruth owns a pet chameleon named Yoda

Max thinks that Pizza Pete's is owned by Pete, and that is where he gets the money for his rich kid bowtie

Mayor Lauter pays Steph's allowance in cryptocurrency

There was a month where the Clivesdale Chemists and the Hatchetfield Nighthawks had an even higher amount of hatred for eachother than usual. The Chemists accused the Nighthawks of stealing their mascot (they didn’t, the kid just moved to Hatchetfield)

Because of the mascot stealing allegations, the Chemists decided to steal the Nighthawks mascot for ransom, but they let Richie go after an hour because he wouldn't stop explaining the plot of One Piece

The problematic puppy Steph got in a Twitter fight about was the cop dog from Paw Patrol

Ziggy owns a couple of pet snakes

The Smoke Club has a rule that you must wear at least one weed-patterned item of clothing to meetings or else you're out of the club

Ted is one of those guys whose bedroom has just a mattress on the floor and a TV sitting on a bunch of cardboard boxes

Also Ted gives big lives in his parents' basement vibes

Steph had a creepypasta phase

No one at CCRP ever knows what to get Paul for work holiday parties so now he owns a bunch of gifted mugs and he's starting to run out of cabinet space because he doesn't want to get rid of anything that was gifted to him

The Hatchetfield High theatre department has never payed for the rights to a play. The students don't know about this. Ms Mulberry is fully aware of how illegal that is but continues to do it anyway. Hatchetfield is a small town, they won't get caught. Also the theatre department has like no funding

Grace was a horse girl in elementary school and she used to eat grass

Charlotte sells DoTERRA essential oils on the side. Everyone at the office has tried to tell her its basically a pyramid scheme but she doesn't believe them

Miss Holloway was a famous rockstar in the 80s, but after she made a deal with the Lords in Black, her past existence was wiped from everyone's memories and no one ever listened to her songs again

Grace has OCD, specifically religious scrupulosity

Richie owns so many body pillows that he no longer has room for himself on his bed

Ruth and Sherman Young have beef with eachother from Ruth's middleschool My Little Pony phase

Kyle is autistic and I will die on this hill

Max's mom dissapeared after being crowned Honey Queen. She wanted the prize money to support her family because Max's father was layed off from his job

I just know Brenda and Stacy are super into astrology

Local teens describe Paul's aesthetic as "cardboardcore"

Ted has one of these tattoos. He doesn't remember getting it and it took him forever to notice because it is on his back. It is a miracle that it never got infected

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spooky-holtz · 2 months

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Sicilian Scheming

Melissa Schemmenti x reader

Genre: pure fluff

Word Count: 3.4k

Prompt: "I seen you were looking for ideas for fics and was wondering if you’d write one where Mellisa’s Nona comes to visit her at Abbot during summer planning where she meets teacher Reader and essentially forces them to go on a date together even though they don’t get along well but they end up really hitting it off then a time skip to their wedding where Nona’s bragging about getting them together?"

I've diverted from the prompt a little but the core of it still stands. Strap in.

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Make no mistake, you absolutely love teaching the third grade but by the time summer comes around, you’re glad to see them go. Summer vacation gives you a chance to relax and enjoy your time away from the stuffy brick building that is Abbott Elementary, spending weeks at a time curled up on the window ledge of your apartment basking in the sun with a good novel and often a crisp glass of wine.

You rarely get chance to see your co-workers save for the coffee dates you have with Janine, often meeting the smaller woman around the corner from her home to sit and chat in the large glass windows as the rest of the world passes by. You spend hours at a time chatting about anything and everything your rather uneventful lives have thrown at you, fingers curled around a sweating glass of flavored iced tea. These breaks are always among the highlights of your year, giving you a chance to wind down and refresh ready for the next group of kids that you will take under your wing.

By the time the summer break winds down though, you’re eager to get back to school and see your dysfunctional work family. There’s nothing you love more than the first day after weeks apart, hearing all about Barbra’s annual cruise with Gerald, or Jacob’s latest mission to get himself “down with the kids” - it usually involves some god awful Tik Tok trend that he should NOT be doing, but you don’t have the heart to stop his rather spirited approach to engaging with his students.

You love these conversations but there is somebody else that you find yourself searching for the second you step foot through the green doors of Abbott; Mellisa Schemmenti. The older woman has become an infatuation for you, her rigid exterior always melting when you interact. She knows exactly how you take your coffee, always leaves a seat open for you during meetings, and takes every opportunity to compliment your appearance - whether it's a new pair of earrings, or a slightly different shade of hair dye, Melissa will always notice.

She makes you feel special in the smallest ways, always leaving you with the hope that she might actually like you back. It feels juvenile and you can’t help but imagine yourself as one of the kids you teach every day, sending heart eyes across the room at each other at any given chance, just waiting for her cheeks to flush and that small, suppressed smile to appear on her glossed lips.

Your crush is no secret, but you would never tell anyone - well, except Janine who had managed to guess exactly why you get so nervous around the older woman after a few glasses of wine at the last faculty holiday party. You didn’t have to say anything; your longing looks toward the redhead on the other side of the teachers’ lounge as you nursed a plastic cup full of cheap alcohol was enough to prompt your friend to ask. You could never lie to Janine’s puppy dog eyes, especially not with a buzz courtesy of the liquor store across the street.

You can’t help but let your thoughts drift toward thick Philly accents as you sit in the gym on the first day of school, squashed between Jacob and Janine and caught directly in the middle of their conversation about whatever new Netflix documentary series dropped last week. You’re really trying to listen, but your thoughts are consumed by bright red curls and glittery lip gloss, not true crime documentaries.

You find yourself scanning the room as the pair babble on and you notice that the seating arrangement is half empty as you wait for the rest of the faculty to arrive and for Ava to take the stage for yet another development week speech that will go down in infamy at Abbott. She’s already poked her head from behind the curtain on the stage twice, clearly impatient to make her grand entrance to a group of less than willing participants.

You begin to hear the telltale sound of heeled boots clicking against the linoleum floor and you feel yourself freezing into place just as Melissa waltzes into the hall, Barbara in tow. You don’t know if you’re impressed or terrified at her ability to constantly wear those shoes and the thought makes you realize that you’ve never actually seen Melissa at her normal height.

Just as you suck in a deep breath, her eyes scan the room and instantly land where you sit, sandwiched between two of your rather enthusiastic co-workers. As her green eyes meet yours you see them shrink at the smile she sends your way, her pearly white teeth cutting through the shiny pink lip gloss she’s always wearing. You send a similar smile back, overjoyed at the fact she merely noticed you. God help your heart rate when she decides to talk to you for the first time in two months.

Your attention is pulled away by Barbara, who waves enthusiastically from behind Melissa, making her way toward the empty seats directly in front of you. Your eyes dart back to Melissa as she follows the billowing of the older woman’s cardigan, heels still impossibly loud against the floor.

The dark button down she’s sporting is tight against her torso, the sleeves rolled up to reveal her deceptively toned forearms. You have to remind yourself to look away for a split second, the thought of getting caught ogling her by one of your co-workers forcing you to tear your eyes away. You look toward Janine who has trailed off her conversation with Jacob, the pair watching you and Melissa like a tennis match. You feel your shoulders slump at Jacob’s knowing look, the excitement practically making him vibrate.

“You’re kidding, you know too?” You sigh.

“Uh yeah, you don’t exactly hide the heart eyes,” he scoffs. He must see the deer-in-headlights expression on your face because he continues, “I wouldn’t worry, she was definitely just throwing them right back at you.”

You have no time to reply as the subject of the conversation reaches the row of seats in front of you, sitting in the hard plastic chair and turning her torso to see you, hand resting on the back of her seat. Her smile is wide again as she looks to you. The panic brews in your throat and your palms instantly become sweaty at the prospect of Melissa feeling the intensity of your feelings.

“Hey hun, it’s been a while,” she says, her eyes still crinkled from the smile she wears. Her focus is entirely on you, ignoring the duo that sits on either of your sides.

“Yeah, it has,” you manage to stammer out, “How’ve you been? You look good.”

You inwardly cringe at your words but you’re not lying. She’s obviously had her hair dyed ready for the new school year and it’s even brighter than usual, making her even easier for you to pick out of a crowd. She looks so full of life and at ease, the break clearly having done her well. Her smile grows impossibly wider at your compliment, putting you instantly at ease.

“It was great,” she replies. “Spent a lotta time at the beach with my family, so I’m not as pasty as you may have remembered.”

She throws a wink your way with the last statement, causing a pink blush to cover your cheeks within seconds. What you wouldn’t give to actually see Melissa at the beach, totally relaxed on a sun lounger with a drink in hand. The image turns your cheeks an even deeper shade of red and Mel clearly catches on, her smirk letting you know that she knows exactly where your thoughts have gone.

Before you even have chance to reply, Ava makes her grand entrance from behind the curtain to a chorus of groans that echos throughout the room.

You can feel Janine’s elbow nudging into your side, your friend having had a front row seat to your entire interaction with the redhead. The action earns her a swift kick to the ankle under her seat, accompanied by a hissed “don’t you dare”.

The meeting is over almost as quickly as it begins, Ava rushing back to her office to catch the latest episode of Real Housewives - she didn’t explicitly say it but you all know that’s the only reason she would be running back down the hall. You won’t complain though because it means you can get started with your work to prepare your classroom for the year ahead. You stand from your seat alongside Jacob and Janine and have all intentions of getting back to work when Melissa turns around again. Her emerald eyes stop you in your tracks, mid-stretch, your arms flexed above your head.

“I never got the chance to tell you earlier, but I really like your dress,” she says, completely catching you off guard. Your hands fall, hanging limply by your side and brushing against the floral fabric of your clothing. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t wear it specifically to catch her eye this morning. The soft smile she wears on her face makes your heart melt, the look on her face only reserved for you. “It's real pretty.”

You both stand there for a few seconds, blushing like lovesick teenagers and staring into each other's eyes when a throat clearing brings you back to reality. Janine claps her hands together, flustered by the interaction.

“Okay, I’m gonna get back to my classroom and, uh, get started on cleaning. Have a good day guys!” She calls as she walks away with Jacob in tow, enthusiastic as ever as he throws a thumbs up your way. You know that within five minutes of leaving the school gym she’ll be in your classroom waiting for the rundown on what the hell just happened between you and Melissa, as if she didn’t see it all happen from inches away. At this rate, you wouldn’t be surprised if Jacob shows up with a bag of popcorn to join in with the gossip session.

“Oh shit, yeah, I need to clean before Nonna shows up,” Melissa mumbles, “I don’t wanna even think about the earful I’ll get if my classroom is a mess.” She doesn’t even stop to think before she turns on her heel and practically runs out of the gym and down the hall toward her classroom. You don’t have time to process her words before her best friend speaks.

“Well, I guess that just leaves us,” Barbara says from her place next to where the redhead stood. She wears a gentle smile on her face that will always help you feel at ease. She reaches her arm out to you, linking your arm within hers as she turns to walk. “Come on honey, I’ll walk you to your room and tell you all about the cruise I had with my Gerald.”

After a rather lengthy conversation about ‘Sea Barbara’ and her less-than-christian antics, you’re back at your door for the first time in months and can’t help but feel like you’re home. Nobody particularly likes their job but that couldn’t be further from the truth for you. Already, you’ve planned out the next year and can’t wait to welcome your little Eagles back into the classroom.

It’s a full hour later by the time you actually hear another person’s voice - Janine chose to keep her distance but will no doubt grill you about Melissa at some point today. It’s just a matter of when.

You hear the signature clicking of her heels before you can see her, her footsteps considerably slower than usual. You can hear her talking as she walks, though you can’t make you exactly what she’s saying. The footsteps grow louder and slower before you hear a knock against your doorframe, the door propped open by a thick stack of textbooks that you’ve wedged in front of it in a desperate attempt to get some airflow in the stuffy room.

The sound makes you whip your head from where you stand on your stepladder, stapler and crepe paper in hand as you put together a display for the kids. You know exactly who will be standing there, already smiling as you turn and meet her eyes.

“Hey Hun,” she says, “I’ve got someone here who wanted to really meet you.”

For the first time you notice the presence beside her. You don’t need to take any guesses that this is Melissa’s infamous Nonna, the older woman clearly having stamped her grandchildren with her genes - she looks exactly how you imagine Melissa would in her old age, her hair silver and leaning gently on a cane.

“Melissa Ann Caterina Schemmenti!” she exclaims, making you jump and stand up straighter, terrified at the prospect of already being on her bad side. You climb down from the ladder as she stares at you, smoothing your hands down the front of your dress in an effort to get rid of any creases that may have formed during the morning. “You said she was pretty, but not this pretty!”

You feel your shoulders relax as you laugh at the older woman, taken aback, Melissa by the side of her groaning loudly with a “Nonna, really?” You move toward the pair holding your hand out to shake the wrinkled one of the grey-haired lady before you. Her fingers are adorned by the same kind of jewelry that Melissa wears, her Sicilian heritage extremely clear from the large signet rings that she wears across her hands.

“And there’s no mistaking that you must be Nonna,” you grin, introducing yourself. “I’ve heard a lot about you. You’re like a living legend around here.” She closes her hand around yours, the other still gripping her cane.

“Pretty and complimentary?” She remarks, turning to look at her granddaughter whose face has managed to turn the same colour as her hair. “Well, you kept a lot quiet about this one.”

You can’t help but look at Melissa at this statement, catching her eye and smiling even wider, Nonna’s remarks already making your grin impossibly wide. Her brow relaxes itself slightly, the hard lines around her eyes softening when she sees the pure joy on your face at finally getting to meet the woman you’ve heard so much about over the last few years.

“I’m not sure if I want to hear exactly what you know about me,” you joke to her, catching Melissa’s eye yet again. The poor woman looks unbelievably flustered but it's a welcome change in your dynamic. She usually gets to revel in the fact that you turn into a puddle in her presence, but now you can only hope to add to the quickly darkening hue of her cheeks.

“Trust me, you do. This one doesn’t shut up about you,” she says, smiling slightly and cocking her head toward Melissa who is actively wishing that a sinkhole would open up beneath her feet. She lets go of your hand and moves further into the classroom, leaning ever so slightly on her stick but still moving with all the confidence of your favourite Schemmenti woman - at least you know where Melissa gets it from now.

Your eyes dart to Melissa, the older woman already looking back at you with a silent apology in her eyes her teeth worrying her bottom lip. You reach out and rub the top of her arm over her shirt in a small act of comfort, letting her know that this entire situation is doing nothing but working in her favour.

“Ya know, it’s nice seeing something other than my Melissa’s classroom or the reception desk at this school for once,” Nonna says, almost speaking to herself. She looks around the room almost in awe, taking in the displays in various degrees of completion around the room.

You follow her further in, Melissa hot on your tail behind you. She’s so close that you feel her almost walk straight into your back as you stop closer to the older woman, her once intimidating heels stuttering slightly on the wooden floor.

“So, tell me,” Nonna begins, turning in place to face you, “What brought a girl like you to Philly? I know you’re not a local.” Her eyes twinkle as she asks, and you have a sneaking suspicion that she already knows the answer to her question from the tales her granddaughter has seemingly told her about you.

“I just wanted a change,” you answer honestly. “I only thought I’d be here a couple years, but it’s been five and I can’t see myself leaving any time soon.”

At your statement you hear Melissa sigh by your side. As your head turns to meet her gaze you see just how much it softened at your words. She knows just how much you love your job and the dedication you’re willing to put into making sure these kids make it. Year after year she’s been the one to help you draft lesson plans and mark countless piles of work over a mug of coffee in the teachers’ lounge, helping you when you feel slightly out of your depth in more ways than she could imagine.

It’s only when she’s this close to your face that you can see the glittering of her lip gloss as she smiles slightly, her lips pulled together in a look that conveys so much softness.

“Do you like Italian food?” Nonna asks, breaking the tense silence that has fallen between you. You feel the redhead beside you jump, both of you completely forgetting that her grandmother is just meters away from your little moment. You can’t answer quick enough, crying out for her approval and hoping that you can focus back from the incredible green eyes that are currently burning into the side of your head.

“Oh yeah, I absolutely love an Italian,” you stutter out, “Can’t get enough.”

You inwardly cringe at your words as you hear Melissa snicker by your side, Nonna’s eyes twinkling with amusement again. You hear a quiet “Bedda Matri” from Melissa through the giggles that shake her body.

“I bet ya do,” Nonna says, her grin revealing her impossibly pearly white teeth. You can feel yourself getting warmer and you’re not sure if it’s from the stuffiness of your classroom and its broken windows or from the pure embarrassment radiating through your system. “You know, I taught Melissa everything she knows about Italian food. Maybe if you’re nice she’ll cook for you sometime.”

Nonna’s eyebrows are raised as you turn to meet Melissa’s eyes, the older woman shrugging in your direction. It's nice to know you aren’t the only person completely lost in this conversation.

“Oh, I know!” Nonna exclaims, making the pair of you jump yet again, “Melissa, how about you cook this nice girl the family baked ziti tonight? Say, 7 o’clock?”

“Uh sure, if you don’t have anything on?” Melissa says, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion once again.

“No no, I’m totally free,” you stammer, your cheeks matching the deep red of your co-worker's hair. “I’ve got your address too.”

“Wonderful!” Nonna almost shouts, her shrill voice echoing off the semi-bare walls of your classroom. “You’re going to love it, trust me.” She says, throwing a wink your way.

You don’t particularly want to admit that the smaller woman is, but you do love it. So much so that two years later you’re twirling around a dance floor in a lacy white dress, Melissa in a matching getup and shiny new diamond rings on your left hands. As Billy Joel croons the chorus of ‘Just the Way You Are’ from the speakers set up around the room, you hear a familiar voice chirp up from a table just out of reach of the dance floor.

“You know, they would never have gotten together if I hadn’t practically knocked their heads together,” Nonna says, her voice carrying over the song as she explains her matchmaking services to Melissa’s Uncle Tony. You feel Melissa grin where her cheek rests against yours, your expression matching hers as you hear the older woman carry on. “I’m telling you now Anthony, this wedding wouldn’t even be happening if it wasn’t for me.”

You feel Melissa begin to giggle where she stands, her hands resting against the lace at the small of your back, thumbs rubbing gently against the surface as you sway together. You hear Nonna carry on, adamant that the life you’ve built wouldn’t be possible if not for her, and as much as you don’t want to give her satisfaction, you both know she’s right.

#wlw #self insert #reader fanfic #reader fic #lisa ann walter #abbott elementary #writing #fluff #abbott elementary fanfic #melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti fic #melissa schemmenti fanfic #lisa ann walter x reader #lisa ann walter fic #melissa schemmenti x y/n

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janeyseymour · 3 months

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Hey so I was wondering if you could do a fic about a Melissa X daughter reader where we start working at the school and nobody catches on that we are Melissa’s daughter and the keep putting the pieces together until they finally get it. Maybe something like where Janine and Jacob go to Melissa’s house for cooking lessons and we are just like there and that’s how they find out. Or alternative idea where we are Melissa’s daughter and we start dating someone from Abbott like Ava or Janine and how that would play out. Sorry that’s a lot. Thanks

Relatively Related

written in the midst of the week before spring break and hoping that it isn't absolute trash :)

WC: ~2.5k

Growing up with Melissa Schemmenti for a mother, you saw what it was like being a teacher. You grew up hearing the horror stories that came with being a teacher in a center city school in Philadelphia, and you knew the horrors of growing up in a different part of Philly and going to that neighborhood school. While she didn’t much mind what you did with your life, she had always thought you would be a good teacher. And when you decided to go to college for education at West Chester University, she knew Abbott would take you in a heartbeat. It didn’t even matter that you were her daughter and she was quite the accredited teacher- West Chester’s name had enough to secure you a job anywhere in Philly that you wanted. You had vehemently denied working at her home away from home for quite some time, and yet here you were, with a bit of nudging from your mother, interviewing to become the new third grade teacher at Abbott Elementary.

“C’mon, hun,” she had sighed over dinner a few weeks ago. “I think if you would give it a shot, you would like it… I know Abbott ain’t no suburban school, but it’s a hell of a lot better than some of the places you’ve applied.”

“I just don’t want people thinking I got the job because you’re my mom,” you tell her truthfully through a mouthful of ziti.

“Y/N, if you wanted the job, I could get it for you without an interview.”

“Isn’t that essentially what would happen if I applied and checked off that I have family within the district?”you challenge as you raise a brow.

She rolls her eyes. “You act like they actually look at resumes. Please, they’ll take pretty much anyone who has a pulse and a certification… how you think I got stuck with Darlene as a part of my team?”

“I guess.”

“And besides, you have your father’s last name… how are they gonna know you’re my daughter if you don’t have my last name?”

You have to admit, she’s right. So you send in your resume. And two days later, you receive an email saying that they’d like to see you for an interview.

Your interview is practically a joke, and you’re offered a job on the spot. That night, Melissa and her work wife Barbara take you out for dinner.

“To Abbott’s newest member of the team,” Barbara makes a toast to you. “May it take you far in life.”

That was three years ago, and since then a lot has changed. A new principal has come in, there’s been a massive turnover in teachers, and you find yourself as a first grade teacher now. The only thing that hasn’t changed? The only one who knows you’re true identity at the school besides you and your mother is that Melissa Schemmenti is your mother.

This year, a few new teachers start: Jacob Hill as the eighth grade social studies teacher, and Janine Teagues as the other second grade teacher.

And as much as your mother loves to rip on new coworkers of yours, you find yourself quite drawn to both of them. Sure, they’re a little nosey and love to hear all of the new gossip and find all of the deep secrets that are hidden in the walls of this old bomb shelter turned elementary school, but you like them. They haven’t found you out, not that you or Melissa really care, but it’s quite nice to have that little bubble around the two of you.

They’ve come close though. Like the time that it came about that you share a name with Melissa’s daughter- who at this point they’re starting to believe doesn’t exist with the lack of pictures or stories.

“I’m telling you, I have a daughter,” Melissa rolls her eyes as she taps away at her phone. “I’m texting her right now.”

That is true- she is indeed texting you. Sure, she’s just texting you to tell you that you need to pick up lentils on the way home, but she isn’t lying to them.

“Show us.”

The redhead rolls her eyes, but she shows the two of them your conversation. “See? I’m just telling her she needs to pick up lentils if she wants me to make dinner tonight.”

Jacob’s brow raises as he catches the name at the top of the screen. “That’s odd… your daughter shares the same name with Y/N!”

“Well that would make sense,” your mother sighs, and you know she’s about to just out the two of you.

“It’s not like my name’s uncommon,” you jump in quietly. “I mean… really. Y/N. Not the most unique name in the world.”

Barbara raises a brow in your direction, and you give her a pleading look. “She’s right,” is all your mother’s work wife says.

That seems to stop the conversation for now, but the adrenaline rushing through your bones doesn’t quit until you safely pull into your driveway that day- lentils in hand.

“I’m home, Ma,” you call as you open the front door. Her head pokes out from the kitchen. “And yes I got the lentils.”

“Good,” is all she says before heading back into the kitchen. You follow in her direction and set them next to her before picking up the glass of wine she’s already poured for you and sipping on it.

“Aye,” she clicks her tongue. “No hello? No ‘how was your day?’”

“I saw your forty minutes ago,” you snort.

“An’ a lot coulda happened in forty minutes,” she replies. When you raise your brow at her, she sighs. “Okay, so in that forty minutes I drove home, changed into my lounge clothes, and started dinner… but I was also thinkin’-”

“That’s dangerous,” you quip. At the look she gives you, you raise your hands in surrender. You might be a grown woman, but Melissa Schemmenti was still your mother.

“I was thinkin’… you reacted kinda weird when I went to say that you were my daughter.”

You shrug. “I just don’t see why it’s anyone’s business but ours.”

“There’s gotta be more to it than that, hun,” she says as she stirs in the lentils.

“Jus’ don’t want anyone thinkin’ I’m some sorta nepo baby,” you sigh. “I got this job on my own, an’ I don’t need shit from the Abbott crew.”

“They ain’t gonna give you shit, ‘specially once they know you’re mine, and I know a guy,” she laughs,

“Little do they know, half the time, I’m your guy,” you tease her.

“Well, if that’s what it is, that’s fine. I won’t say nothin’.”

“Thanks Ma,” you smile as you kiss her cheek. “I got some grading to do, so if you have anything that needs graded, just put it next to my stack.”

As time goes on, the group starts to catch on a bit more… like:

The fact that you’re just as good a cook as your mother. You’re always bringing in new things in your Tupperware containers- that just so happen to match Melissa’s… because they came from the same house. You quickly cover that one up with a roll of your eyes and a, “So we both shop at Marshalls, the containers ain’t that special.”

Or when you manage to get pink eye from one of your kids, and Janine notices that you have the same emerald eyes as your mother. “Green eyes aren’t as rare as you think, Janine,” you huff as you grab your lunch from the fridge before leaving for the day.

There’s the instance where you’re getting fiercely protective of your students as one of the teachers from Addington makes their way over to flaunt the fact that they have more resources down the street, and you fold your arms over your chest and square up with the woman in true Schemmenti fashion. That time, Gregory takes notice, but he’s new at this point, and you just roll your eyes as you storm away down to your mother’s room to rant.

But no one ever really finds out. Not until…

“Kid, I’m having some people over for dinner tonight,” your mother tells you. “You joining?”

“Nah, I have some grading and prepping to get done tonight if I can,” you say. “But can you save me a bowl?”

“For a price,” she smirks.

“Hand me your spelling tests I know you’ve been stalling on grading,” you chuckle. She just points to her bag, and you go and pull them out before heading up to your room. “Have fun with your friends tonight. Love you, Ma.”

“Love you too, you little shit,” she calls back lovingly.

You’ve spent hours grading papers, and now you’re pouring over your lesson plans for the next week. You realize that you should probably do a craft that has to do with the upcoming holidays, and you find a few cute ones online. You know that you and your mother have a plethora of crafting supplies in the basement- you just don’t know what of. So, you start to make your way down the steps when you hear two very familiar voices: Jacob’s and Janine’s.

Knowing though that if you don’t go and look in the basement now, you never will and will just end up buying all new supplies and adding to the ridiculous amount of pipe cleaners and glitter glue you have stashed away.

You make your way through the kitchen. The three of them seem to be deep in a cooking lesson while also snacking on a few of the things your mother had already whipped up and don’t have a clue you’re walking through.

“You need any crafting supplies while I head down and see what we have?” you casually ask your mother as you pass.

You stop to watch as your two coworkers’ heads whip around in a near comical unison, mouths dropped in shock.

“Y/N?”

“Hey,” you give a half-committed wave.

“What are you doing here?” Janine asks.

You furrow a brow and fold your arms over your chest. “I live here?”

“You live with Melissa?” Jacob gasps.

“Yeah? She’s my mom?”

“She’s your-“ Janine points a finger at you before turning around and looking at Melissa. “You’re her-”

“I told you guys I had a daughter, that she wasn’t fake,” your mom smirks. “You believe me now?”

“How did we never know?!” Jacob admonishes.

“Well, for starters: I don’t have the Schemmenti last name. Secondly, who’s business is it to know who my mother is?” you quip. “You know how private the Schemmenti family can be.”

They both look beyond shocked. “Well, why don’t you join us?”

“I really do have to go check for pipe cleaners and paper plates, and I know how to cook,” you laugh. “But I’ll see y’all tomorrow.”

You head down the steps, and you hear your mother call, “The big jawns!”

“That’s what I figured, Ma!”

“What the hell?” Jacob whips around to your mother, and you laugh because you know she’s about to get grilled on the fact that you were indeed her ‘secret’ daughter.

You find what you need before heading back up the steps and for your room. “Have a good night y’all!”

The next morning, you’re sitting in the lounge sipping your coffee and sulking over the fact that you forgot your lunch on the counter this morning. Luckily for you, your mother brings it with her when she sees that you left it on the counter. She slips it into the staff fridge before sending you a text that it’s there. She preps her coffee and settles in next to you to grade a few more papers before everyone else stars trickling in to watch the news.

“Uh, hello?” Jacob questions when he walks in and everyone else is here now too. “Are we not going to talk about this?”

“Talk about what?” you and your mother ask at the same time.

“You two!” He gestures wildly between the two of you. “That you guys are related!”

“You two are related?” Gregory asks with a brow lifted.

“Uh, yeah!” Janine tells him.

“How do you know?”

“She told us last night when she called Melissa ‘Ma’!”

“Why didn’t any of us know this?” Jacob continues on.

“Know what?” Ava asks as she comes waltzing into the lounge to grab a coffee.

“That Melissa is Y/N’s mother!”

“I knew,” Barb states with a smirk on her face.

“Oh, damn! I was starting to think Melissa being a milf was just a rumor. I am happy to find out that it is entirely the truth,” the principal grins. “Greg, grab me a tea bag so I can sip on this tea!”

“There isn’t any tea, Ava,” you roll your eyes. “Yes, Melissa is my mom, but it really ain’t that big a deal.”

“Oh, it definitely is! Why were you so secretive about it?! Hmm?” Jacob asks as he sits next to you.

You shimmy away from him just slightly with a huff. “Because nobody needs to know a Schemmenti’s business except a Schemmenti. And, I didn’t want nobody thinking I got this job because of who I’m related to.”

“Y/N, please. You’re good at what you do, hun! You could get this job without the Schemmenti name, and you did!” Your mother cuts in and jostles you slightly.

“I also didn’t want to hear you-“ you look to Ava. “-calling my mother a milf more than I already do.”

“She is! And now that I see the two of you next to each other, I definitely see where your future is heading too!”

“Ava!” You, your mother, and the rest of the group scold.

The principal just shrugs. “Jus’ sayin’ the truth. Bye, y’all.”

Once she’s gone, you’re bombarded with questions. What’s it like having Melissa for a mother? Is your father really as bad as your mother makes him out to be? What was it like growing up? If you saw the horrors of Abbott, why did you work here? What were you like as a child?

“Enough,” you finally groan. “This is why I didn’t want people knowin’. I may be Melissa’s daughter, but-”

“Isn’t it weird calling your mom by her first name?” Jacob cuts you off.

“I’ve been yelling her first name since I was fourteen and realized she didn’t always respond to Mom or Ma, but always Melissa,” you reveal. “Now: she may be my mom, but I’m still a damn good teacher who got this position on my own volition. And y’all better stop asking these questions, or I know a guy.”

“And I’m the guy,” you mother states proudly, a proud grin on her face.

“No you ain’t. Uncle Vin is my guy.”

“While we’re at it,” Melissa sighs. “Stop asking me to get weed from my guy and just ask Y/N instead. She’s my guy for that.”

#melissa schemmenti fanfiction #melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti x reader #abbott elementary fanfic #abbott elementary fanfiction #abbott elementary

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loguetowns · 7 months

Text

to be young

roronoa zoro x reader

your boyfriend thinks he's got jokes

"let's burn it down" + zoro for anon

1.5k words

a/n: it's fluff with very minimal plot (like absolutely none). also slightly ooc zoro? he's very lovey dovey and i'm not sorry about it

zoro knows he was a pain in the ass as a child. dragging his feet to do chores, loud-mouthing all the older kids, challenging kuina day and night for just one more battle - he knows he was a brat.

and, now, at the ripe age of 21, he likes to think that he's grown out of his childish ways. he's mature, seasoned by the hardships of adulthood - a promising young man, if you will.

"ha!" zoro snickers, "i made you look."

"you're so lame," you groan. "i don't know how you tricked me into thinking you were some playboy."

you knock his hand out of your face, but (like the playboy he is) in one smooth motion, he locks his fingers with yours.

"no tricks," he flashes you a grin reminiscent of your first meeting in that hole-in-the-wall bar. "a man can be both, you know?"

"don't i know it," you mumble. yet, for all your grumbling, there's a bashful smile tugging at the corner of your lips that reminds zoro of the moments before he kissed you in that hole-in-the-wall bar.

"anyway," you ignore the look of triumph on zoro's face. "as i was saying, that's my elementary school over there."

against the crimson sky, zoro follows your finger and spies a schoolhouse in the horizon. your other hand is still holding his, swinging in rhythm to his pace.

"that dinky little thing? can you even call that a school?"

"okay, not all of us grew up in a dojo with zen gardens and..." you motion in the air. "-and... meditation grounds."

zoro has to laugh at what you've come up with. his laughter bounces against the cobblestone streets, landing in every spot marked by the setting sun.

"meditation grounds?" he repeats. you scowl. "we didn't have any of those."

"no objections to the zen gardens, i see," you huff.

"they were nice! and i know you liked them. i heard you tell ol' man shimotsuki they were pretty," he pokes your cheek and you swat him away.

"well, here in this li'l town, we don't have any zen gardens but we do have a playground behind the church."

at this point, the schoolhouse has come into view, framed by the aforementioned church. it's got stained-glass windows that glimmer (like your eyes when you laugh) and there are flowers lining the fence (rosy like your cheeks when you blush).

around the back, zoro can spot the essentials of a playground - slide, swings, seesaw, and a carousel that looks like it's seen better days.

"oh, that's... nice."

"thanks for your enthusiasm, baby."

"you know what? you're welcome," he grins.

his sarcasm earns him one of your signature eye rolls, the one that says you're so annoying. and he responds with a devilish smile that says i know, but you love me.

carrying on, you motion towards the playground at the back of the church. "see that carousel? it flung me off this one time and i broke my knee."

he tries to picture a tiny you — baby fat in your cheeks, in a mismatched outfit, holding onto your bloody knee on the concrete. knowing how much of a crybaby you are now, he knows that you were probably bawling when it happened.

he wonders vaguely if you were also cursed with an ugly childhood haircut and snickers at the thought of it. unfortunate hair or not, he's sure of one thing — you must've been the most darling little kid.

"that's terrible," zoro tries not to laugh. "what a shitty thing for a carousel to do."

"right? i was so traumatized, that was the last time i ever rode it."

"should we teach it a lesson?"

the last time you saw zoro teach anybody a lesson, it ended with a bloody nose and a black eye. so it's with much confusion that you turn towards him with a knitted brow.

"what are you on about?"

"the carousel."

"what about it?"

"let's burn it down."

"burn it down," you repeat with an exasperated sigh and a loving smile. "are you crazy?"

he throws an arm around your shoulder, pulling you close. instinct has you tucking into him and, enveloped in his warmth and the scent of steel and mint soap, you find shelter in the spot next to his heart.

"crazy for you maybe," he says with a kiss on your head. "you know what could be fun though? we could go full scorched earth and burn the whole playground down."

"as romantic as arson sounds, i don't want to be complicit in your crimes."

"you're dating a pirate. fraternizing with a criminal doesn't exactly make you innocent."

you turn to zoro, looking up at him with your best doe-eyed look and the cutest pout you can muster (he almost kisses you right then and there in the middle of the square).

"but i'm too cute to go to jail."

that much is true, and zoro knows it more than anyone. you're cute when you're shy, cute when you're happy, and cute even when you're mad. in fact, how adorable you are is the one thing that zoro and that stupid cook can agree upon.

but your darling little heart belongs to him and he'll do anything to keep it in his hands - even if it means jail.

"i'd bail you out though," he rests his chin on your head.

"with what money?"

"hmm, good point. can i borrow some money?"

"are you gonna pay me back?"

"of course, i would never go back on my word."

"how good is the word of a dirty pirate though?"

zoro fakes an offended look, "i shower every day."

"mm, even so," you tap a finger against your chin, as if you're in deep consideration of your options. "i'll loan you the money but you'll have to pay interest."

"who's the crook now?" he chuckles. "okay, so what's the damage?"

"10 kisses per day," you declare. "compounding."

"easy. i'll even pay in advance for ya."

and before you can protest, zoro starts peppering every inch of your loveable face with kisses. he kisses you on your forehead and your cheek and your nose and along your jawline, ignoring your squeals and giggles. you couldn't even escape if you wanted too; he has you tight in his embrace, effectively trapped.

"stop!" you laugh. "i don't want your cooties."

"liar," he growls between kisses. "you want me so bad."

his barrage is relentless, lips brushing skin, as he gently edges you towards the corner around the back of the church. you land against the wall with a soft thud, cushioned by zoro's arms that are holding you so dear.

then, you sigh against him — a shy, little moan in the shadows — and, in this spot away from prying eyes, a switch flips inside him.

surely, he's exceeded his hypothetical debt but how could he stop now? not when his lips finally find yours, and his teasing turns into hunger for your cherry sweet kisses. he cages you between his arms, hands against cold stone, bracing himself as he takes more of you and gives more of himself.

"hah- zoro..."

he responds by leaving a trail of sweet nothings as he travels down to your neck, little confessions of love left on your skin. your hands travel up his arms and the way your fingertips kiss his skin leaves him dizzy.

but then, you suddenly break away and look over his shoulder with a quiet gasp and wide eyes. like an experienced fighter, zoro reacts with protective instinct.

"what? what's wrong?" he whips around but all he sees is an empty playground. hand still on his swords, he turns back toward you — only now you have a mischievous sparkle in your eye and a devious smile.

"made ya look," you cackle.

zoro's shoulders relax, but the absence of a real threat doesn't let you off the hook. he rounds on you, chuckling darkly.

"oh, you are so gonna get it."

and then the tickles start.

you squeal and he laughs, and you are both so, so in love. hiding away from the rest of the world, you giggle and kiss like two teenagers making out for the first time. zoro smiles against you as he appreciates the delightful irony of it all.

zoro's a fearsome pirate with a schoolboy crush and a love that leaves him with butterflies that he'll never admit to — but you know it anyway.

just like how you know his tough side, his soft side, his immature and kiddy side that still snickers when nami trips. the fact that you adore him for all these different parts means more to him than you'll ever know.

and whether zoro's a pain in the ass or not, a kid or an old man, 21 or 81 years old, he hopes that the way he feels about you will forever be timeless.

#zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro fluff #zoro fluff #one piece x reader #¡! ❞ [ fics ]#¡! ❞ [ req ]#another drop in the overflowing bucket of zoro fics that spawned post-opla #thank u mackenyu for being everyone's muse #i still love animanga!zoro sm tho ugh baby boy my love

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