Shouldn’t matter if she’s a mom or a wife; Kim Kardashian is a human being. If you think it’s funny that she was robbed at gun point then just unfollow me right now. She’s a person too. Doesn’t matter if you think her wealth is a joke or not, she still doesn’t deserve that. No one does. People are disgusting
“It’ll be funny!” Alya defended, continuing to rummage around in her bag. And while Marinette agreed with the sentiment, she still wasn’t sure if she was willing to put so many emotionally stunted teenage boys through such trauma.
“I don’t know that they’ll be able to handle it,” she reasoned, frowning a bit as she did.
“C'mon, girl,” Alya persisted. “Think of Juleka.”
That was true, the memory stoking the low burn of anger that had been simmering in Marinette’s gut all morning. Poor Juleka had been suffering as so many girls did and had required only a necessary trip to the bathroom. It’d been before school had started, all the students loitering around the campus until class. Which meant that when Juleka accidentally dropped her tampon, more than one eye caught the “scandal.” Which drew in only more attention. Until a gaggle of stupid boys were dancing around the scene, poking fun like female biology was something to be ashamed of.
Juleka had not faired well, the ridicule leaving her locked in the bathroom until Rose and Marinette had managed to get her cheered up (not like they needed another akuma out of the situation).
“Okay, okay,” Marinette agreed, pulling her own bag up and searching through it. “I only have three tampons though. And two pads.” She pulled the assorted items up as Alya finally found her own.
“That’s hardly enough for a full scale attack,” she mused, frowning.
“Here, take mine too.” Turning, the two watched Mylene pull six pads out of her own bag, Ivan—who stood at her shoulder—chuckling and shaking his head.
“Nice! Help me open everything.” Alya dictated the whole situation, Marinette assisting in tearing the outer plastic off before they unfolded the pads. They left the sheets that protected the adhesive side, but otherwise they were exposed to the world.
“Are you guys doing what I think you’re doing?” Alix cut in, crouching down on the steps beside them. There was a manic grin on her face as she eyed the large group of boys just off the corner of the steps.
“Probably,” Alya replied simply.
“Well, here,” Alix continued, reaching into her own bag and pulling out an entire box of tampons. “I bought these earlier, but I’d rather they went to a good cause.” After all, nearly every single girl had been disgusted by the treatment Juleka had suffered through earlier that day.
“Nice!” Alya did a celebratory wiggle, ripping the seal to the box and dumping the tampons, along with all the others they’d procured, onto the giant sweatshirt Ivan had been decent enough to lend them.
“This is a pretty good hoard,” Marinette agreed. “But I wish we had more pads.”
“Actually…” Alya tapped her chin thoughtfully. “I have a better idea.” Reaching down, she removed all the pads and handed them to Marinette. “For later,” she said vaguely, offering only a wink as explanation before she turned to Alix. “Ready?”
“Oh yeah!” Together, the two grabbed the sweatshirt on either side, cradling the pile of tampons in the fabric as they stood and skipped their way down the stairs. Behind them, Marinette stacked the pads into a neat pile before turning her attention to what would inevitably become a scene.
She mourned some that Adrien was among the large group of boys that were to be hit, but supposed some sacrifices had to be made.
At the base of the stairs, Alix and Alya were swinging the sweatshirt back and forth, readying to let it loose. The gaggle of boys—there were at least ten of them—had no idea, their backs turned to the onslaught. Many of them had participated in the jeering Juleka had gone through (Marinette was thankful both Adrien and Nino had not taken part) and so deserved what was coming to them.
Finding herself at the base of the stairs, Marinette watched alongside Mylene as Alya and Alix finally opened the sweatshirt. On the upswing, they thrust the shirt forward, hurling its contents into the air. A flurry of active grenades, the tampons were flung across the clearing, scattering through the air before they, inevitably, showered down on the heads of the boys.
Initially, the attack was met with startled surprise, the boys flinching back as they were hit before looking around in confusion. And then, as if they could see their deaths upon them, a grave silence overcame the group. They brushed the weapons from their hair and shoulders, unknowing what debris they were handling until the plastic devices—their strings hanging out dangerous—went clattering to the sidewalk.
The seconds of realization were almost stifling.
Kim was the first one to release a high-pitched scream, which sent all the boys into a panic. Unable to avoid stepping on the bombs, they stumbled back clumsily, tripping over themselves in their efforts to escape the outbreak. It was like watching a heard of wild animals startled by an abrupt predator, though their scrambling was perhaps lacking in animal grace.
Their screaming and yelling, and “what the fucks,” naturally drew in the attention of other groups of students, the boys who’d been far enough to avoid being assaulted gaping and shying back in alarm and disgust, while their female counterparts looked on in straight-faced confusion—if only because they hadn’t been briefed on the situation.
Once the ruckus had cleared—once all the boys were safely cowering to the sides, holding one another and breathing hard as they observed the scene from a safe distance—only one victim was left standing, his best friend shifting a meter or so behind him in uncertainty.
Looking around in surprise, Adrien stood among the ruins, feet bordered in tampons while Nino—hands out as though bracing himself—waited for another assault. He stood by his clueless friend courageously, though clearly uneasy.
Brave soul that he was, Adrien ended up bending down and actually picking up one of the bombs, much to the gasping dismay of many of the boys on the sidelines.
“Guys…” he started a second later, holding his find up for observation. “They’re just tampons.”
The word, that word, had them all shrinking back again, as if the mere sound of those letters put together was enough to shake them to their very cores.
While Adrien, still perplexed by the reaction, glanced down to the tampon in his hand. “They’re not even used,” he muttered. “What the hell is wrong with-”
“Foolish!” Alya announced abruptly, Adrien whipping around in surprise. “They’ve left one behind!” Dramatically, she grabbed one of the pads from Marinette’s waiting hands, holding it above her head as she tore the plastic sheet from the adhesive. “Get him!”
By that time, Rose and Juleka had joined their group as well. Alix followed Alya’s example and armed herself with a pad, Mylene laughing and doing the same. Until there was a whole hoard of girls rushing Adrien, much to his wide-eyed shock.
Not that he wasn’t used to girls rushing him. But normally they weren’t armed with pads and yelling battle cries at the same time.
Marinette joined in as well, laughing, which inspired Juleka and Rose to do the same.
Pads in hand, they tore the plastic away from each one, much to Adrien’s twitching puzzlement. They didn’t body-slam him or anything, but they crowded around nonetheless and made a great scene of sticking the pads all over his shirt and arms. They hung off of him heavily, more disgusted gasps echoing from the boys watching.
“What- What is happening right now?” Adrien hissed at them, shaking his arm and failing to remove the sticky pad that was suctioned to his skin.
“Silence!” Alix shouted, pointing a threating finger up at him. “You’re supposed to be dying!”
“Your manly ego,” Alya corrected. “We’ve assaulted you with feminine products, the greatest fear of all men, and so it’s inevitable that you fall beneath our power.”
“Oh…” He furrowed his eyebrows, before realization splashed over his face. “Oh!”
He’d been there when Juleka had been harassed and been one of the few boys that had tried to stop it. He knew exactly what they were doing.
“Oh god!” he yelled abruptly, reaching up and slamming his hands over the pad that was stuck to his shirt. “The patriarchy, I can see it crumbling before me! There is no greater ill than the unused cotton and plastic of feminine products! We stand no chance!
"Help, help!” he called, falling dramatically to his knees. “I’m not gonna make it!”
“Don’t worry, bro!” Nino yelled from the sidelines. “I’ll go get some red meat and a GPS you can throw out the window! Hold on!”
“It’s too late!” Adrien garbled, holding his throat as he fell back on his butt, before toppling to his back. “I’m not- I’m not gonna make it! Oh Nino, it burns! The realization that women’s bodies do things mine doesn’t! The horror!”
“Just breathe, bro!” Nino begged.
“Ugh, I’m dying!” Flailing his arms out to the sides, Adrien scattered the tampons, his legs shoving them out of the way as he sprawled through the debris.
“Somebody do something!” Nino fell to his knees as well, looking frantically around the clearing. “Get some beard hair! Start a fight! Give him a hammer! Anything to save my bro!”
“It’s too late now,” Adrien whispered. “I’m dead.” Head tipping to the side, he fell still, tongue lolling out as he released a final “bleh,” clearly symbolizing his demise.
“Bro! Bro!” Nino wailed pathetically.
“Victory!” Alix called, raising her arms to all the eyes watching. “Let this be a warning to all who oppose us!”
“We will not hesitate to use the deadliest of weapons!” Alya continued, Marinette holding up the final pad before she got down on her knees at Adrien’s head. In a final testament to their victory, she stuck it over his eyes, smoothing it out evenly.
“We will hang his bland yet understated button-up at the entrance to our woman-cave!” Alya continued. “You’ve all been warned!”
“What is going on out here?” It was Ms. Bustier who interrupted their reveling, all the girls turning to look at her. As did the boys, most of them either completely disgusted by the show or still horror-stricken.
“Their female empowerment has killed my bro!” Nino lamented. “Oh the equality!”
The girls stared at Ms. Bustier, saying nothing as she surveyed the situation.
Marinette, meanwhile, glanced down at Adrien, who was smirking and doing his best not to laugh.
“You’re supposed to be dead!” she hissed.
“Oh, sorry.” He went appropriately still.
“I’m not… I’m not going to get involved in this,” Ms. Bustier finally decided, smiling a bit as she looked at the scene. “Just… make sure you clean up when you’re done.” Shaking her head, she turned and went back into the school.
“Victory!” Alix yelled again, pumping her fist in the air.