#my little pony x warror cats

[theanoninyourinbox]

I'd love to see what Sandstorm looks like in the crossover now!

Single adoptive mother of a griffon and a changeling dating mayoral candidate

[fbfh]

your opinion is wrong - paxton hall yoshida x reader

wc: 1.4k

pairing: paxton x shy!fem!reader (she/her)

genre: angst with a fluffy ending

warnings: moderate upsetting bullying, reader has been bullied in the past, lightly implied neurodivergant reader (hyperfixations/socializing does not come naturally) but could also be social anxiety so it's open to interpretation, warror cats and my little pony slander, mention of being on adderall as a joke, reader has something akin to an anxiety attack and has to leave a party (also open to interpretation), reader hears male voices yelling in the distance, paxton is a loving and protective boyf, trent is the ultimate homeboy

summary: when the party you're at takes a turn for the worse, paxton is there to stand up for you and help you turn the night around.

song rec: the first song or two of your comfort album

mine are this december - ricky montgomery, and are you satisfied - marina (tw for possibly upsetting lyrics)

a/n: I don't remember specifically getting bullied but I also don't remember a lot of my childhood so who knows

anyway I hope you like this!! paxton is a good boyfriend

also!! not proofread cause I'm incapable of doing that ig :/

“Nah dude, I can just tell,” Ethan, one of the guys from the swim team says, “she was totally one of those kids that were like… really into like, warrior cats, or some shit,” his words taper off as he holds back a laugh.

You’re close enough to hear what he’s saying, and you’re sure he has to be aware of this. You continue scrolling through your phone, not paying attention to what you’re looking at, trying to seem busy and not uncomfortable. You hope it looks convincing. You look behind you, trying to seem inconspicuous. Paxton should be back with your drinks any minute.

“Like,” he adorns a falsetto valley girl voice, overexaggerated mannerisms punctuating his words, “that’s bright star, the bitchiest tabby from the rival clan… we’ve been feuding since that slut stole my sardines.”

You don’t even remember that much of the warrior cats books you happened to read in elementary school, and even you know that’s not at all accurate. You continue to sit in painful silence, those familiar hot waves of shame beginning to come over you.

“Or like, fuckin’,” he continues, feeding off the laughter he’s drawing from the group surrounding him, “my little pony or some shit. Like, hi hi, I’m pinky cakes and I’m on adderall!” he continues in a shrill falsetto, letting out a torrent of high pitched giggles.

You stare right through your phone, trying your hardest to ignore the mockery falling thoughtlessly from his lips. It’s really unnecessary. You know you’re quiet, you’re perfectly aware of how much you struggle to socialize the way most people seem to effortlessly. Sure, you take solace in the escapism you find in books and movies and tv shows, you have since you were little, but that doesn’t mean that you - or anyone for that matter - should be ridiculed for it. You can’t count the amount of comfort shows or little hobbies you’ve had to drop cold turkey because someone mocked them and you couldn’t look at them without triggering shame and guilt spirals.

You feel like you’re going to throw up. Your fight or flight response begins to act up, and you jiggle your leg, trying to deny the urge to run as fast and as far as you can.

“Fuckers naruto running through the halls,”

Ignore it, ignore it, ignore it...

“-the most annoying type of person,”

You have to get out of here right now.

The instinct consumes you, and you stand up, bolting to the door as quickly and inconspicuously as possible. You angle your head down, hoping no one will see the tense, scrunched up look on your face you’re trying desperately to control, or the wall of tears, growing and blurring your vision into swirling abstract colors. You’re glad you already knew where the door was, or navigating your way through the sea of people would be impossible.

“Hey.”

A hand reaches for your arm. Normally you would dodge gracefully, nothing coming in between you and your need to escape, but you immediately recognize the hand as Paxton’s. Your brain stalls, that disgusting feeling still fully saturating your body, and you freeze at the contact. You don’t look at him. His stomach drops.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, in more of a statement, coming closer to you. He hands the drinks he was holding to a passerby, who replies with a ‘thanks man,’ and continues on his way.

Paxton is already in front of you, a hand coming up to rest comfortingly on his cheek. One look at your face and he understood instantly.

“Can we just go home?” you try to say, but your throat tightens up as soon as you begin, cutting off your words. He understands in spite of this, and is already leading you to his car.

He opens the passenger side, helping you in and buckling your seatbelt. He turns to you before he closes the door.

“I’m going to go say bye to Trent and Marcus real quick, I’ll be right back. Why don’t you pick out some music?” He offers, giving you a tender kiss on the cheek and a reassuring squeeze to your hand. You nod, and he closes the door.

You pair your phone with his car speakers, and scroll through your saved playlist. You pause, realizing exactly what you need, and start playing one of your favorite comfort albums. You lipsync along to the words, the familiar words and melody, even the order of the songs providing an immediate sense of relief. You take deep breaths along with the music, heart rate starting to slow, emotions beginning to settle.

You open the window slightly, feeling grounded and refreshed by the cool night air. Before you can take two breaths, the sound of yelling emanates from the house, just audible over the synth pop dance track playing on the multiple speakers inside. Your whole body tenses automatically, and you roll the window back up, turning your attention back on the music. A few minutes later, the driver’s side door opens, and Paxton slides in. He takes your hand.

“Are you okay?” he says gently, but not patronizing. You can tell he’s sincere. “Trent told me what happened.”

You let out a shaky deliberate sigh, squeezing his big hand with your shaking one.

“Why… does this always happen?” you say quietly, “Right when I think-” You cut yourself off, thoat closing up as tears well in your eyes again. You look down, focusing on your breath.

Paxton traces his thumb over your knuckles.

“Those guys are assholes.” He says definitely, “You are the most amazing person I’ve ever met, princess,” his free hand rests on your cheek, turning your face towards him. He doesn’t make you look at him, just presses a warm kiss to your forehead.

“They also think dumb and dumber and beevis and butthead are cinematic genius. I don’t trust their taste in movies, or people.”

You let out a weepy laugh, and you can both tell you’re feeling better.

“You wanna go home, play some video games?”

You nod gently.

“We can play genshin impact…” he tantalizes, and you smile.

“You really want to see me fly off cliffs and scream at every hilichurl that appears?”

You both laugh.

“I always want to watch you cliff dive and collect fruit and plants.” You smile.

He pulls out of the driveway, and you decide on where to get food before going back to his place. Paxton orders for you, and you wait until your order is called. His phone rings, and he answers the call from Trent.

“Mission accomplished bro. Me and Marcus kicked those douchebags out, and sent the vid to coach. Their asses will get benched at best.”

He lets out a sigh of relief.

“Thanks Trent.”

You look up at him.

“Everything okay?” You ask. He looks down at your sparkly eyes, your hands holding onto his arm, and his heart squeezes.

“Yeah, Trent’s just checking that we got home okay.”

“Tell him I say hi,” you say, turning back to your phone. He relays the message, and goes to pick up your food.

Soon you’re curled up on his couch, button smashing your way through a domain, yelling at monsters, with Paxton cheering you on. Your legs are thrown over his lap, his hand squeezing your thigh in encouragement.

“Sorry!” you yell, finally wearing down a monster to zero hp. He watches you, enthralled by the game, enthralled by life. Your beauty, all aspects and facets of it, are so blindingly obvious to him, how could anyone not see it? It really makes no sense to him, solidifying the feeling of needing to protect you, the way you care for and nurture a beautiful flower garden.

“Yes!” you cheer, completing the level. You throw your arms around him, and he holds you tight.

“I’ve never won that fast,” you say, a blinding smile on your face.

“I know,” he says, his expression mirroring yours, “that was amazing, babe.”

“I still can’t believe that happened,” you muse. Overcome with love and adoration for you, Paxton pulls you in close, catching your lips with his. After a moment, he pulls away. You look down, cheeks warm.

Ever since your first kiss, he’s wondered how long that feeling would last. At this point, watching you giggle, and bury your face in the crook of his neck, he thinks that maybe it never will. He hopes he’s right.