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zuffer-weird-girl · 5 years

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"Paranoid" Overhaul/Chisaki Kai x reader

I know im sorry pls dont hate me im so anxious to see my plague man in the anime i screamed with his voice in the trailer

Silence... Only silence was his company at that moment... And it was driving him crazy.

After the trauma with the league of villains leader, he wasn't the same... he wasn't the yakuza fearless young leader Overhaul anymore... Now he was just a man, a quirless, armless and helpless man scared of his own shadow.

Where were you? You said that you were gonna buy some groceries on the near store of your appartment street, but its been so long already, did really take that long by walking there? Where were you?

Chisaki have been relying on you since the loss of his arms, you found him close to death and help him get physically better but the psychological part was still a work on progress, he never felt so vulnerable yet so safe in such a long time in his life, such a angel weren't you? You were his angel for life... But a monster like him deserve it?

His self doubting were interrupted when the sound of a door closing invaded his ears, it wasn't the front door... someone entered your appartment? How? When? Who the hell was it?

The young man left his seat from the couch and ever so slowy made his way where the noises were coming... maybe it was just the wind? What have you become? A scaredy cat now? Thought Chisaki angrily at himself... But the moment he saw dust on the floor he could feel his heartbeating stop at the moment.

No... no, definitely not... He wouldn't come back now-

"Well, well, well would you look at that! For someone so full of yourself look so scared and hopeless even depending on someone to even put his own clothes is hilarious!" exclaimed a raspy voice, Chisaki feeling his nerves on his skin turned his gaze to his back just to confirm that it wasn't just some sort of illusion.

"Shigaraki" spoke the man monotonously just to hide his own despair of landing his gaze at the ruby eyes of the another villain.

Shigaraki only laugh at him, even have the audacity to fake that he was wiping a tear of his left eye.

"Isn't it glorious? I remember you once told that you were gonna make a "cure" for this world, but look at yourself! You can't even lift a single finger!" He started to laugh again, Chisaki was sure that he was about to throw up due to his nerves, but he remained his monotonous gaze at the maniac in front of him.

"Oh! I almost forgot!" Exclaimed the blue haired man making his way to the amount of dust behind Chisaki... he grabbed his shoulder; making the golden eye man cringe at the contact but he couldn't exactly slap his hand away; and made him look directly at the dirty floor.

"You see I made some research and discover that in that day I left something behind... Someone actually... which you really treasure." He spoke lowly.

No... please don't... Whoever god was, please don't let this be true

"I didn't lie when I said I was gonna take everthing away from you Overhaul... even if your angel had nothing to do with our business I couldn't help! They were just there! Begging for anyone to take them away from this personal hell you made for them."

His eyes were burning as he looked at the floor, he was trembling? No, this must be a joke, a DAMN SICK joke... You were part of the yakusa, you were his lover for God's sake you couldn't have die this easily...please...

He drooped on his kness realizing one of the presents he gave to you when you two started dating... a bracelet... his angel was gone and was his fault. An angel turned to ashes due to the demon's greed.

Shigaraki maniac laugh echoed in his mind, he wanted to make it stop but he couldn't even move a muscle, how could he be so fucking miserable when you needed him the most? Hell, why he didn't even listened you cry for help?! He couldn't even manage to be more close of the dust because he wouldn't let his tears drop on your remains...

He wanted to scream, beg for help, but what would people do? See both wanted criminals and a bunch of dust on the floor? They would probably only arrest him! And you wouldn't be back! And they wouldn't land their dirty hands at you, no one would ever again... He would make the fucking bastard pay for-

"Kai?" His tears stopped, his eyes went wide and Shigaraki laugh was gone... Did he die? No. If he died, certainly he wouldn't met with you of all people.

"Kai? My love, what happened?" You kneeled next to him, only to be met with golden red watery eyes staring at you. You could feel your heart break at the sign, Kai was never a man who would show his emotions that easily, and you were fine with that, but seing him cry?

His breath was back again, but sadly for his ego, he couldn't fight back the sobs that erupted along with the burst of the tears that come.

Before you even got a second to analyze the situation he buried his face in the crook of your neck, screaming at the process, all his fears and frustations were out now...

You enveloped him in your arms and started with one hand rubbing his back in gently circles as the another one patted his head with you rocking him on the floor.

He felt so humiliated, so embarrassed to acting in such a childish way... but he... he thought...

"I thought I lost you..." he finally said with his weak voice when his outburst came to a end, but he wouldn't dare to leave this oh so lovely and safe place on your arms. Not so soon at least.

He was broken, but if you were there to help him get together again he would be fine.

The demon would deal with his sins along with his angel.

===============================

boi howdy how I hate myself for this ;v;! I know this was way too out of character but hear me out, this man even with his actions passed to a heck of trauma so I focused more on the consequences of the event he lost his arms so please don't judge I lov this arrogant bastard plague man

I only like assholes, my top tree characters that i like in bnha are Dabi, Shinsou (he is not a asshole he is my purple baby but still a smartass sometimes :V) and Kai

#overhaul x reader #chisaki kai x reader #*sips at my tea evilsh while rubbing my cat*#i lov this man #overhaul scenario imagine #chisaki kai imagine scenario #bnha character x reader #bnha villains #overhaul #cant wait for season 4 #zuffer writing #vulnerable assholes are my favorite

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babes-and-baddies · 5 years

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Certain Victory (shigadabi, LOV bonding)

or: the League plays Mario Kart and someone almost dies. (~2000 words)

this is fun and ooc please dont take this too seriously tg3hq54j3awsedrftg written as part of a gift exchange, sorry i posted a few days late <3

(AO3)(masterlist)(ko-fi)

It was all Spinner’s fault. They were all just chilling in the bar like normal, as content as one could possibly be while planning on how exactly to cause mayhem and disrespect the law, when he just had to ruin the peace.

“So…….. Shigaraki. You’re a guy of good taste right? Like, you like video games? Do you, y’know…. have Mario Kart?” The group fell completely silent (actually it was still quite noisy, but the rushing noise in Tomura’s ears made that hard to notice) and tension filled the room (although at this moment the only one truly tense was Shigaraki himself, not that he managed to notice). This wasn’t just an innocent question, no; it was a Challenge, a provocation, a declaration of war. A war Tomura intended to win.

“Do you really want me to answer that question?” Spinner nodded in response, an ignorant grin lighting up his face as he failed to notice the fire igniting behind Tomura’s eyes, “Alright then, it’s fucking on.”

Of course he had to ask that.

Way to fucking go, Spinner.

And so, The Tournament was created.

So much had been put into this night, and Tomura knew it was going to be perfect; after all his planning, it had to be. If this battle was to be done, it had to be done right. After all, what was the point to utterly eviscerating the competition if he hadn’t an audience?

And the day had finally arrived.

The stage was set, Tomura meticulous in work. He had a wide variety of gaming systems, but extra controllers were needed; quickly he went to enlist Kurogiri in stealing some, the prospect of team bonding enough to get the misty man onboard with his plans while he shed a tear of pride. Tomura even went and cleaned a room so that they would have the perfect gaming arena in which to declare victor. Stolen beanbag chairs gathered around a large screen, couches and a small table where snacks would go in the background for the spectators, a pile of cheetos and doritos with bottles green tea and mountain dew to wash them down.

Perfect.

The time to fight was nigh, and Tomura was confident he would prove himself superior. After all, was the realm of games not his main domain? Yes, today he would indisputably prove his worth, and no one would dare question his authority.

While the sky was overcome by purples and deep blues, the sun finally leaving them from the night, Tomura let himself focus on the screen before him. It was his moment to shine, now, and nothing would get in his way. Even as the rest of the league filtered into the room, making their usual annoying and useless comments, Tomura let his heart and soul bond with the controller within his hands. Even while his colleagues gathered around him, picking up their own controllers and buzzing with excitement, Tomura felt nothing but a rush of calm. This might just be the most important trial of his life, but he would surpass it. He would fight.

He would win.

And so all players had entered the arena, gathered together and prepared for what was to come. It was finally time to fight. It was his time to shine, his...

“Tooomura, Tomuraaaa, can I pick the track thingy? Please, pretty please?”

Himiko grinned, looking over at her boss while the character selection page flashed onscreen. Shrugging, Tomura let himself focus again on the tv in front of him, “As long as we end on Rainbow Road I don’t really care.” And that was the end of his short and useless discussion, one not enough to distract him, but still startling him out of his trance.

Once everyone was ready, and Toga had her fill of flipping through the tracks as quickly as possible during her very professional and thoughtful selection process, Tomura let himself finally ease into things. He was gonna kick their n00b asses.

3… 2… 1… GO

Yeah, someone was probably going to die by the end of the night.

Two rounds had gone by in the blink of an eye, and Tomura was more confident than ever. Two rounds, and Tomura easily won them both. Already it was more than clear who reigned superior, so now all Tomura had to do was show one final time just who was in control. It was time for his final victory.

Half of the league had given up at this point, content to watch and joke around at the expense of those still playing rather than be involved themselves; some time within the first two rounds, Kurogiri and Mr. Compress had left to get more snacks, Twice was making a gripping commentary of all of the competitors moves, and magne had switched to being Toga’s personal cheer squad as part of their LOV Lady Solidarity Group. And so four were left to play.

In a few minutes time, there would only be One victor. Tomura would make sure he was the only one left with any pride. He would prove himself.

Everyone watched with bated breath as rainbow road filled the screen, their characters lighting up the dim room as the intro sequence quickly passed them by. And then it was starting. The moment of truth.

All four players gave into the moment, bringing their focus on the screen as their characters started to move onscreen.

Toga was a laughing, maniacal mess as she leaned forward, uncaring as Bowser kept falling into oblivion; last place gave her what she truly wanted: a chance to blow up everyone in front of her, willingly giving up her chance at victory as a sacrifice for joy and general mayhem.

Spinner was intensely emotive, glaring at the screen as Luigi kept around 2nd to 3rd place and yelling out every time he fell behind. He wasn’t winning yet but he still had time to turn things around, Shigaraki wouldn’t know what had come for him.

Dabi, as infuriatingly attractive as ever, was lazily sprawled across the beanbag chair, seemingly uncaring of what was happening to Toad onscreen as he reached into a bag of chips despite actively playing.

Tomura, though, was unlike the others. There was quiet intensity behind his eyes, a hypnotic presence surrounding him as he put his soul into every press of his fingers, eyes glued to the screen as he sat, unmoving. The very air around him started to still, caught in the moment as he sped past everyone friend and foe alike, ready to finally have his success confirmed. It was the final lap now and not even the cheering, laughter, and incitive comments from the audience was enough to distract him.

Allowing a smug grin to stretch across his face as the finish line came into the distance, he continued to speed forward. This was it. His moment.

In one glorious second the heavens parted, leaving Tomura to bask in the smug certainty of triumph; finally he could prove himself superior, reaffirming his role as leader and supreme, as the one truly worthy of power, as not only the best gamer but the best person, as-

FUCK. No, no, fuck, it couldn’t be, it wasn’t possible,

“WHO the FUCK….Did you just fucking,,,,,, did you BLUE SHELL me?!?”

A silence fell over the room as Shy Guy fell into the oblivion below, the corner of Tomura’s screen blinking from 1st to 2nd, from 2nd to 3rd, 3rd to 4th. The moment Toad crossed the finish line, declaring him the Winner, a scream could be heard throughout the building, past the street, infecting the world as Tomura exploded in rage. Far off in the distance, several young heroes lifted their heads in confusion as they felt a disturbance in the force. Something terrible had just happened...

And Dabi was so fucking dead.

Like the little bitch he was, Dabi simply laughed at Tomura’s rage, grinning lazily as he waved his controller in front of Tomura’s reddening face and taking delight in the way Tomura’s glare washed over him. “What, you not manage to predict this, creep? And here I thought video games were your ‘thing’.” Tomura took a deep breath, collecting the hatred washing through him.

“Fuck. I’ve tried to be a good leader, but this….. this I can’t forgive.”

That was the only warning before a blur of black and pale blue sped over to Dabi’s laughing form, knocking him against the ground in a rush of righteous rage. It was a mess, many innocent beanbags lives’ being lost in the carnage. But Tomura couldn’t worry about that, his pride was on the line here. That little shit Dabi just thought he could go and steal his victory, and not only that, but he was so fucking rude about it! Dabi wasn’t even trying to win, he spent the whole time making shitty comments and throwing doritos at people (although in retrospect, he always was getting 2nd place wasn’t he?), and yet here he was taking what should have been Tomura’s.

And this wasn’t even something new! Dabi was always there, being an ass and making Tomura get all flustered and uncertain. But this, this was the fucking limit. There was a point where Tomura could take no more, ignore no further transgressions. Dabi stole his moment. It was only fair that Tomura steal something of Dabi’s in return. Something of equal value…. something like Dabi’s life.

The two rolled across the floor as Tomura reached towards Dabi’s exposed skin, hoping to finally have a solid touch; everyone else had stopped to watch the spectacle, unsure whether to step in. “Stop fighting back you piece of shit, I’m only trying to kill you!” Tomura growled, reaching for Dabi’s throat before being flipped, breath fleeing his lungs as he was caged between a crispy asshole and the unforgiving ground.

Lurching forward Tomura moved to headbutt him, hoping to loosen his grip so he could kill the raisin-looking fucker already. But despite his clearly outstanding strategy skills and tactical prowess, Tomura made a small miscalculation. When their foreheads met Tomura himself fell back, Dabi falling atop him as he groaned in pain and released his wrists. But that wasn’t the problem.

Dabi was directly on top of him, pressed against every inch of him, and, shit, this couldn’t be happening, did he just-

Opening his eyes, Tomura looked into the glowing blue hovering above him. The heat from Dabi’s breath ghosted over Tomura’s lips, reminding him of how the roughness of Dabi’s own felt against his. Dabi slowly pushed himself away with a smirk, taking in how Tomura was blushing, frozen beneath him.

“Wow, creep, if you wanted to kiss me you shoulda just said something. Who knew you were so bold.” His voice was as deadpan as his usual disinterested gaze despite the faint blush spreading across his cheeks, but for a moment a touch of emotion leaked through. Probably just cruel amusement, trying to make fun of Tomura as usual. What else could it possibly be?

“You….. I didn’t… what,” Tomura blinked rapidly, trying to process the turn of events.

Giggling, Toga and Magne shared a grin. “Should we leave? They seem to be having a moment.” Glancing around, everyone seemed to understand eachother, a visceral need to escape rising in their hearts. The rest of the League quickly fled the room, but the two boys on the floor hardly noticed, too distracted by the sudden magnetism of the moment.

Dabi smirked from above, raising an eyebrow to distract from the blush spreading across his own cheeks and down his chest.

“So. You gonna keep staring, or are you gonna kiss me again?”

“Was that a challenge, you crispy shit?”

Glaring up at him with a sharp light in his eyes, Tomura yanked Dabi downwards, messily smashing the mouths together in a flurry of lips and teeth. After a few moments Dabi grinned against him, pulling away to teasingly leave fluttering kisses along his jaw before Tomura yanked his hair to bring their mouths together once more. It was nice, despite everything, and Tomura felt himself melt into Dabi’s touch. This was clearly just another challenge, a new level where he could show Dabi who was boss, but still...

Maybe Tomura did win something after all.

epilogue:

Spinner let a single tear slip down his face, staring forlornly at the abandoned gaming system. He didn’t even get to finish playing…

Letting his hand softly caress the screen, he walked away with neon light haloing his silhouette. Tomura’s tantrum may have ruined it this time, but there was still hope. He wouldn’t let this be the end.

“I’ll come back soon, Mario Kart… we’ll play again, I promise.”

The darkness of the room didn’t respond.

#shigaraki tomura #dabi #shigadabi #bnha spinner #himiko toga #em writes #drabble #idk if this counts as crack or not but id say its at least lowkey humour #hopefully qfeghjun53hrgfew #tomura #toga #spinner #...the others are there too but they dont speak much sorry #mine #BUT yeah dont expect this to be deep/ a character piece its just for fun

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cannibalisticshadows · 5 years

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Nightcall (2/2)

[ao3 Link] . [Part One]

Megamind drops out of the media. Though the media doesn’t drop him.

The spike in his frequent fights with Metro Man has done a complete 360, much to the relief of the locals and to the disappointment of tourists. The news and media alike have leaped onto his sudden change like scavengers to fresh offal. Talk of his recent rendezvous, or lack thereof, are on everyone’s mind.

“He’s a maniac,” some talk-show host said into the speaker, hunched over a desk looking quite aggressive. The screen of the television baths the blue alien in a dull electronic glow illuminated his reflective eyes. He frowns at the person but having no good point to disagree. He’s just offended someone would be so bold to jump into the obvious.

“He’s a maniac, and Metro Man has been taking his sweet-ass time in trying to bring this alien-fuck down. Sure, sure, all-righteous and no-killing and what not. I’m sorry but he’s just pious.” Not just ballsy, but controversial. “My only guess as to why Megamind has abruptly vanished like a phantom is because our city’s hero finally grew a pair and kicked his skinny blue ass into the next life. And by God will none of us miss him. Look at what a shit-show he’s turned this city into—“

Megamind turns the TV off by throwing the remote so hard that it shatters the screen.

Sighing, he crawls out of his little nest of blankets and decides it’s time. He’s been procrastinating enough; he’s done nothing for the past two weeks and it’s getting to his head.

His plan to tell Roxanne started out sounding like the only resort to fixing him and his dumb extraterrestrial make-up, but he’s been pushing it off since he got home the last time he broke out of prison. Who knew he could really raise some hell by simply doing nothing.

Roxanne has made few appearances on television since her last kidnapping. Sadly enough, due to his absence, she had little to do (at least, to the public eye). She was the main reporter, focusing on Metro City’s star inhabitancies. Metro Man had nothing much to do besides helping little old ladies or getting cats from trees—not worthy of making an emergency announcement on the news.

And since he hasn’t seen her, he’s going into such a stump he’s made several near attempts to just show up at her place with no spray. How would she respond?

Well, he’d find out tonight.

He filled the invisible car up with his home-made energy source, making sure it wouldn’t run on empty. Tonight he was going out, far enough to reach the boonies.

And he wouldn’t be alone.

Megamind, unsure of how she’d react but knowing this would be practically life or death for him, grabbed a few essentials. The de-gun. Knock-out spray. Rope. You know. The usual. This had to go as smooth as possible for him to get serious with her, to assure her he’d never bother her again as long as he got this off his chest so he could wallow in misery with a peace of mind.

So, making sure she’s home with the affirmation from one of his spy-bots, Megamind packs up his things in the car and zooms out of the Lair before Minion can so much as ask “Where are you going, Sir?”

When he gets to her building, he uses a brainbot to fly him up to her balcony. She never locks it (Oh, Roxanne, I do question your sanity sometimes), so when he pushes the glass doors open, he enters a relatively quiet domain.

The lights over her tiny kitchen are on, illuminating her one-person apartment. Sniffing, and catching the remnants of her perfume, he follows it until—

“Mega—“ Before he gives her time to even finish saying his self-given name, he whips around and gives her a reasonably large dose of spray. She gasps, eyes roll up, and her body drops in a dead weight. Flinging out an arm he catches her, unable to keep his hungry eyes from the expanse of her pale, bare neck. Megamind splays his fingers across her bare, marveling at seeing her for the first time in weeks. It’s been too long.

Tonight she’s wearing civvies. A pair of dark wash skinny jeans and a white peasant blouse with little red and blue flowers along the neck and sleeves. She’s missed a barber appointment, he thinks, as her hair is exactly two centimeters longer than usual. Her hair’s also a bit damp, curling ever so slightly at the very ends. She not wearing makeup, either, letting him see all of her little brown freckles dusting her cheeks, like little stars in a milky white setting. He licks his lips.

Megamind ties her wrists and covers her mouth with a cheap duck tape. He’s never taped her mouth shut before, but for once he doesn’t want her screaming or complaining. And despite every Hollywood movie where the bad guy tapes the victim’s mouth shut, it’s very possible to remove it without the use of hands.

He carries her out bridal style, whistling for the brainbot to bring him back to the car. Once on the ground, he tucks her into the passenger seat and pulls the belt on, all before getting in himself.

And then he drives. He drives for a long time, content for the moment to sit in silence beside the soft rumble of the car’s engine.

Swerving through Metro City’s night traffic, the city lights gleaming in this never sleeping place, he keeps his head low as he goes, so stressed he finds himself clutching the wheel so hard it threatens to snap. The leather of his gloves scrunches.

They (he; she’s still knocked out) drive out of the midnight city into the rolling countryside, past the lake and past the forests. Lush green hillsides and vast farm lands. He can hear the road scratch under the car tires as asphalt turns into gravel and dirt.

After about forty minutes of driving, he can tell Roxanne is beginning to stir. Quickly, he pulls up beside a huge oak tree in the middle of no where, and void of another living soul for miles.

Well. There is a cow outside but it’s like, ten feet away minding its own business.

As the car comes to a stop, he turns the key and all is instantly quiet.

With a soft grunt, Roxanne squirms in her seat and consciousness slowly comes to. He doesn’t watch her, choosing to star at his bony knees and twiddle his thumbs. All he can hear is her movements, and his own rapidly beating heart.

“M…Mmm?” Her eyes slowly open, blinking in the dim atmosphere. Her eyes then open wider, and she looks around for the usual sights of a kidnapping. Seeing as they’re only in the car, and her mouth is taped, she abruptly begins to struggle.

“Wait!” He says frantically, trying to calm her like one would do for a wild horse. “It’s okay! This isn’t a kidnapping! Well, technically it is but it’s just us—“

“MMM!?” She starts to work her mouth through the tape in earnest, tongue visibly trying to lick at the stickiness.

“Please, wait! This is—I just want to tell you something. Something… important. I promise on my ancestors that you have full permission and more to beat me outside but… please. Just listen to me. Please, Miss Ritchi.”

Her struggling stops, and she turns to him with a suspicious glare. He bows his head, flushing in shame. She hates me.

Though she’s trapped him under an intense stare, snaring him more than he had with her, Roxanne goes still as if awaiting for whatever stupid thing he’s got to say to her.

“I… want to apologize, for my behavior two weeks ago. It was unforgivable.”

“Mm.”

“But—I… I…”

She glares harder. Ashamed of himself, he turns his stare to the dashboard.

“I love you.”

He doesn’t look up to catch her reaction, but she doesn’t respond verbally.

“I love you, I love you, I love you.” He bangs his forehead against the steering wheel with each confession, feeling all the pint up emotions in him pouring out like water from a broken dam. It burns his insides with glorious relief and bittersweet shame all at once. Yet it keeps flowing. “And I’m so, so sorry. It’s—not my choice, Miss Ritchi. I can’t help it. My b-body…Ah—s—“ he stutters, so anxious it’s close to making him piss himself. He can feel it claw at this throat, threatening tears. “My species… we d-don’t have crooches, like a human. We… fall in love. Hard. And once. Only once. Once and only with one person. And that’s it. We mate for life, like doves. Or beavers. Wolves. I-It doesn’t matter. But once the relationship is formed that’s it. Cheating or finding a second love if the other leaves or dies is purely an earthly concept. My own p-parents, they—they only had eyes for each other. Sex or romance wasn’t even a concept I understood before I met y—…. I didn’t chose you, Miss Ritchi. I didn’t want this to happen. You don’t deserve this. I’ve already turned your life into a living hell, and for that I cannot apologize enough, even onto my grave. My transgressions are unforgivable. Yet, even being here on Earth I cannot…. There is no place for me. My planet, it’s… I’m all that’s left. And Minion. I didn’t think I could possibly imprint on anyone, much less a human, in this way. Yet… I am so sorry. It’s all my fault. I should have known…”

She’s fidgeting ever so softly beside him, he hears the crinkle of the tape.

He doesn’t realize he’s crying until he takes in a staggering breath, wet tears rolling down his sharp face and trickling on his lips. Salty like the sea.

He can’t bring himself to speak again in fear of weeping like a damn baby, but he feels as vulnerable as one in the moment. Weak. Childish. Pathetic.

The car falls into a silence, with his shaky breaths and a light breeze rolling against the windows. Other than that, it’s as quiet as a void. He glances at her from the corner of his eye, and sees her staring outside at the cow as if it had done something personal to disrespect her.

They sit in silence for a long time.

“I’m done,” he suddenly says.

He hears her move around again.

“I’m… I’m done. With this business,” he gestures to himself in general, to the car, to his gun. “I mean, there are things you don’t know about. Things I’ve done behind cameras. In the underworld. I’ve committed enough sins to last multiple lifetimes over. There’s blood on my hands. Miss Ritchi. Like you wouldn’t believe. And… I’m going to give it up. I can’t keep doing this…

“This such a archaic concept for me. Aah, uh, did you know… Of course you wouldn’t… The males, sometimes even the females, of my kind have to… catch the other sometimes. To express that they feel the same way. Avoids miscommunication or misplaced feelings. My own father… had to sneak into my mother’s household as teenagers to propose to her. It’s—I didn’t even realize it until recently I was courting you! Unconsciously! I’m—God I’m so sorry, Miss Ritchi. I just need to go away. “

She lets out a muffled sound again.

“I’m moving from this place,” he looks around at the vast farmland, the dot of the city in the distance, reflected by his rear-view mirror. “Romania sounds nice. I do a lot of business over there. Lots of forests and hillsides where there’s no one for miles. I can’t bother you or anyone out th—”

Roxanne suddenly spits.

Looking over to her in surprise, he sees she has vanquished the duck tape and has rolled it up in her mouth to spit it onto the dashboard. Turning on one hip, she faces him with such a glower it chills him to the very bone.

“Don’t. You. Dare,” she hisses.

He shrinks in his seat.

“Don’t you dare drop this on me and say you’re just gonna leave!” She yells, pulling against her taped wrists. He opens his mouth to let out a string of never ending apologies, but—she’s starting to cry, he sees, much to his absolute horror. Has he truly upset her this bad? He really was a monster.

“How—you stupid, stupid man,” she cries out, and suddenly—he sees her raise her arms, still taped by the wrist, and he honestly thinks he’s about to be hit when—

She loops her arms around his big blue head and latches onto his neck, yanking him closer and making him clumsily fall onto the stick shift as—

Her mouth is on his. So hard do their mouths come together that their teeth clack, faces clashing together he barely has time to process what’s happening. Gasping, hands wild and unsure in the air as she seemingly tries to suck his soul out, but—he knows what’s happening, mildly, but a bigger part of him is convinced he’s dreaming or hit his head.

The feeling of her lips touching his, though, is electrifying. Every nerve in his body begins to sing and scream all at once, overwhelming him with a sensation override. She moans and presses closer, both of them awkward and clumsy as they clutch at the other from opposite seats. Clutched… he feels his hand involuntarily grab her waist, holding his close but terrified he’s mixing the signals. It feels so so so good, though, and—

She pulls away before he can even realize he was responding back, albeit unsurely. Arms locked around his neck, he mentally curses himself for tying her up. But. It felt like the thing to do at the time.

“You listen to me you son of a bitch,” she viciously spats. “You come to my place, ten’o’freakin’clock at night, and tell me you love me only then to say you’re leaving? What the actual hell!?”

He attempts to pull back, hide in his shell, run away from her furious reprimand, but his neck is still trapped by her arms. Shit. Really a bad decision to tie her up. The alien’s prepared to say something, anything, to show how much of a lowly creature he is in her light, but all that comes out of his throat are choked warbles and whimpers. “I—“

She sniffles.

He meets her eyes in surprise to see two glassy blue orbs meeting his. Frantically, he try to console the weepy female by nervously patting her back. “Ah—M-Miss Ritchi—“

“You were such an A-hole,” she says, sobbing. “Megamind, for once you were actually cruel. It scared me.”

“Oh, oh my dear—No, no, my sweet, no! I wasn’t—“ he swallows. “I wasn’t trying to be cruel. I was just frustrated. With myself. With my instincts. I—if I behaved any less I would have made a fool of myself.”

“Well, you already did that by yelling at me, you cabbage.”

“I-I’m sorry.”

“You made me feel like a whore the last kidnapping.”

He remembers that dress she wore. Wine red, rimmed in black. His... comment to it. Megamind bows his head and clenches his whole body. “I am sorry.”

“And you made me worry about you. I haven’t seen you in weeks.”

Confused, he looks up at her. Roxanne then pulls at her arms and lets him go from between them. Gesturing with her wrists, he catches her drift and pulls out his trusted butterfly knife and whips it out, glad to have something to do with a tool he’s familiar with. Nothing else felt familiar; alien and strange.

As the plastic finally rips away, her skin safe from his sharp little friend, she wraps her hands around his neck and yanks him to her again. Eyes wide, he numbly feels her kiss him a few quick, consecutive times before—

She slaps him in the chest.

He’s nearly got a concussion from how bad the whiplash is.

“Is it true?” Roxanne demands. He’s unable to speak. “Is it true? Do you love m—“

“Yes. Yes, I love you. A million times over.”

This little woman shakes her head, eyes glistening with something he can’t begin to understand. He feels like he’s drowning, with a weight tied to his feet to prevent him to swimming to the surface. He can't breath. She then grabs onto his shoulders. Shaking her head again, she says, “Then don’t go to Romania. Don’t leave Metro City. This place is our-your home.”

“Miss Ritchi, I can’t… stay around you anymore,” his voice breaks. “I can’t without—“

Her lips are on his again.

Shocked, but rapidly trying to learn this new skill she’s apparently trying to teach him, he responds as best he can. Periwinkle blue to unpainted pink, their lips press against each other, seining the warmth and the wet of the other’s mouth. He once saw this activity between lovers an unsanitary and strange thing, but now he understands its meaning. His lips are quite sensitive, and this kissing sets his body to flame, scrambling towards something he can’t seem to catch.

When she pulls away, he follows her, not wanting this connection to end. A tiny bead of saliva snaps between them as their lips depart.

“For such a genius, you can be unbelievably dense.” She cups his face. “I love you Megamind."

What.

"God, I love you. And your behavior, this month—I thought you’d finally lost it. Or just got tired of me.”

His first instinct is to respond yes, yes he has lost it, completely and utterly, but—

“You—you what—“

Roxanne shakes her head again, this time smiling so wide that it nearly reaches her ears, all pearly whites on display for him. She lets him go, finally, letting him think straight. Which is bad because his brain runs in about five hundred directions. Blinking rapidly to disperse the tears in her wet lashes, she continues with, “I’m glad you told me this. Because—I was considering on moving as well.”

He jolts in his seat.

“I sometimes get job offers in other places. This time… I had an offer in Liverpool.”

“Leeverpul!? What’s can you find in Leeverpul?”

“I like the British accent. And it’s far, far away from here.”

Hapless, he stares at his knees.

“Hey,” she pulls him out of his stupor. “Look at me. That’s better. Now. That stuff you said about… imprinting on me? Is that true, too?”

“All of it,” he breaths.

Roxanne nods her head and leans back against the leather seats. “Then listen to me. I love you with all of my heart. I have for a long time, Megamind. So it hurt me, so, so much with how much of a dick you were suddenly turning into. You may as well have stabbed me in the heart.” He winces. “And then you just up and vanished. Gone. Everyone is talking about you!”

He can’t believe what she’s saying. It’s nothing like he ever imagined happening in any probable outcome of this. She… actually… returned his feelings? What??? What witchcraft is this!? He really must’ve bumped his head hard!

“I... know. I see the news. I see my lack of an appearance in the public eye has given you less work… Ah, are you sleeping better?”

She looks at him in confusion.

“You were always falling asleep.”

Roxanne lets out a loud sigh. “I know… I know…”

“Why.” It isn’t a question.

“I always thought you were just a bit ol’sweetheart that grew up on the wrong side of the law. I fall in love with you a little harder every time you goof around like that. I hate that you’re always destroying something or trying to start a fight, but it was a little endearing.” She lets out another loud exhale. “And then you started acting like I was shit under your shoe.”

“N—!“

She raises a hand, and he immediately goes silent.

"So I started drinking. Tried to drink the pain away. But that doesn't work," her voice breaks a bit.

He wants to bang his head against the wall.

“And I hate that you dragged me out here,” she motions toward the countryside. “You don’t have to ship yourself off to God knows where, but stopping the kidnapping would be nice. Even if it’s apart of your… culture.”

“Whatever-Whatever you desire," he swears reverently.

“What I desire,” she says, placing a hand on his knee, “is for you to take me home.”

He nods, expecting that answer.

“And I want you to come up with me. We’re gonna have a talk.”

“O-kay...?”

Suddenly she leans over again and presses his lips to his cheek. With his breath hitching, because its still a lovely, foreign feel to him, she adds, “And then I’m going to show you how much I love you, too.”

“W—“

“I know you, Megamind. I can see it in your face. Now. Take us home, sweetheart.” She kisses his lips again.

This time he knows what to do, and copies her actions better than before. It feels like fireworks.

He’s glad he told her.

#megamind #nightcall #megarox

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dangoghz · 7 years

Note

Make a phan fic involving dan and Phil and fidget spinners

anush u do not want to know where my mind went when i saw this.., here’s something a little uhgg more jesus than that

Harder by dangoghsword count: 950A/N: basically j dnp as fourteen yr old fbois except my word choice makes it sound kinda ;) dirty,, also sorry for the Lot of stereotyping but ive met plenty of ppl just like this and it doesn’t have any actual harm so ——–Dan and Phil were sweating viciously in concentration. Their fingers were entwined around two identical fidget spinners. One red and one blue. Fire and water. Life and death. All was silent.A crowd of friends were surrounding them, but they didn’t matter. It was only dan and phil and the spinners and the moment. Oh my god, it was glorious. They stared at each other from across the table passionately, two tigers in a duel of fatality. This was it. The two top spinner masters in the whole eighth grade. Finally brought together for a face off. A battle to end all battles. Spinners of godly descent. God knows what was about to happen.The rules were very clear. Their mutual bro, Bro McBro, gripping his snap-back in one hand which he had taken off in respect of the masters, recited they a last time. “Attention, spinner amateaurs and warriors from all across this realm. It is time for the duel we have been looking forward to for the past two hours because our attention span is very short and I forgot what I was looking forward to before that. I will now state the laws of fidget spinner warfare, although I am sure all of you know them by heart. But first, give it up for the MIGHTY LADY PLAYER AND BALLER, MASTER OF KIK, CALL OF DUTY WARFARE VETERAN, HOMEROOM 8F, DAAAAN HOWELLLL!!!!”Dan stood up and displayed his masculinity by punching everyone in the chest while screeching “YAAAAAS!!!” His bros passed around the spinner, blessing it with kisses. He was pumped!“And up against him, the WALKING ADIDAS MAGAZINE, ULTIMATE STREAK KEEPER AND HEART BREAKER, OWNING FIVE PAIRS OF THE SAME SHOES, PHIIIIILLLLL LEESSTERRERR!!!!” Phil too punched all his bros in the stomach, a ritual of the bro code. He screamed, rivaling Dan’s ‘yas’ in annoyingness, “YEEEEEEEEEET!” while his loyal bros chanted “YA! YA! YA!”McBro continued, quieting everyone down. “Okay. Firstly, no playin, because you get dishonor and all your streaks broken if you break these rules.” The spinner masters nodded in understanding. “You get thirty seconds to spin your weapons on this fine cafeteria table. Then, we wait. The wielder with the longest spin wins eternal respect and likes on his instagram photos.” The small bro-crowd reveled in the glory of the reward. “Understood?” Dan and phil, consumed with energy, simply nodded again. They placed their snapbacks together on the side of the table, a sign of friendship. Their bond would not be broken by this duel. They stopped absentmindedly twisting the spinners in their palms and placed them on the table. Dan, red. Phil, blue. “Ready,” cried McBro. “Set!” “Go!”Dan and phil spun their spinners so fast that the chants of their bros faded into the distance. Spin, spin, spin. “HARDER!” McBro shouted. “HAAAARDER!” They kept spinning until the thirty seconds were up. It was time to wait. Dan clenched his teeth and phil used his hand to remove a lock of his hair that was straying onto his sweaty forehead. SPIN! SPIN! SPIN! “YEEEEZ!” Dan squealed. He loved his spinner so much, he trusted it, he was infatuated with it, and it was not disappointing him. He was going to win! But phil, he was thinking the same thing!! His blue spinner looked like a blue eye. It was spinning so fast that all the nuts and bolts of the trinket blurred together! “UNNHHHHHH!” Phil grunted. He was elated with pleasure. The boys moaned in satisfaction, both delighted by how their respective spinners were going like lightning. “YES! YES! DONT STOP!” The bros cheered. This was something absolutely amazing!Over a minute had passed and the spinners were still going strong. They were both groaning ferociously over the intensity of the competition. “FUCK!” Dan yelped, and parted his legs because fuckboys sit like that sometimes for no reason. His red spinner was fire, a volcanic bundle of everything dan lived for, he cheered for it so hard in those moments.The bros were shouting, “UAAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHHHH!” They were overcome with how fast the spinners were going. But then finally, they were starting to slow down! The “UHGGAH” turned into an “OOOOAHAHAHHH!!!” Suspense built up urgently. Phil lusted for victory. His only lecheries, desires, libidos were about this duel. Dan wailed when his spinner began failing him. The agony! The pain! He parted his legs even more! He grinded his nails into the table, in hope Phil’s spinner would slow as well, but no such thing. And then it was almost over… both spinners were at the pace of a waddle, but Phil’s was still faster. Sabotage was not an option, so dan just sat still and inwardly sighed. His heart was torn in half as his spinner finally came to a halt, after three minutes of overwhelming feelings. He had cried, he had laughed. But now, it was the end.Phil was maniacally screaming. He had won! He was so joyful that tears were grinding into his cheekbones. He was the master of the eighth grade. The tiger, the dragon, the honor. He licked his fidget spinner, sending his bros into another wave of whoops. Then he climbed onto the lunch table with no mercy for dans misery, and beat his chest like a gorilla. Dans heart was also being hit by these blows, but it was okay. They were bros. No, they were more than bros. But that’s a tale for another day.

#this was an honor to write tbh #the tea #philester #my writing #fs

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meowfuckinhecc99-blog · 7 years

Conversation

Your Ass Arms

Oh . A penis on fire should i get laid? Probly naht, no one appriciates my Oh . A penis on fire should i get laid? Probly naht, no one appriciates my oddly shaped ass. Lady: hey sir, why are you saying all these obscene things? Me:cuz you can go fuck a bag. Lady: you fat fucking cunt, bitch say it again , im finna come up on u like a jizz volcano ...yoinks. Me: (walks away) then this bitch comes up to me and rips my pants off and sets my dick to fire, i watched it burn, it was painfull, yet , kinda nice, I politely asked her why the hell she did this. She replied with: bitch fuck ur fruitloops ill shit in your damn cheerios, bitch i wish the fuck you would act all nice, wit u and yo skinneh ass arms.

Day2: so its fucking rush hour or some shit, and everybody tramples over that cunt bitch from yesterday, one persons foot got stuck six inches down her vagina, she moaned in pain, i laughed and said "a bitch aint so tough now hah!." So like it started raining, and ppl began to stumble on eachother, in oddly sexual positions, it was, ofcourse, a nude party , so natrually everyones boners would get in everyones asses, one guys dick fell so hard in the bitches mouth, that her throat gave in and blood began spewing out her throat., she was still a-fucking-live how in the acctual fuck does this bitch get to live? So i came up to her and asked her why she was still alive. To which she replies with a long drawn out biiiiiiitchhhh as all the blood, and cum from all the blowjobs she gave seeped from her mouth, i started maniacally laughing, as she took her very last gasp of air

The lady began to pull a large ass pubic hair from her teeth, with all the gross dick goop, and some old cum from when the guy had previously jerked off. Ugh the hair was so smelly, i could smell it from the safe two feet of distance which was originally 4 feet, but my cock had half hardened the other two feet. But then the blood and cum stopped pouring out of her mouth, and she wet her pants, for her dick too was begining to harden, but HOT DAMN YOWZA, she had a dragon sized dick, I fell in love instantly and hopped on top of it, and began to straddle her. The connection i felt between me and her was stronger than the stream of blood and cum , pouring out of her throat, which was always loose from sucking too many dicks, so natrually that happened anyway. And right as I was going to climax, a steam roller came up and fucked that bitches shit up. It flattened her face flatter than her tits which were normally coverd in piss cum and occasionally blood, Because her dick was so huge bitches bled when they sat upon it. She used her last dying energy to jam her dick so far up my asshole, it went into my throat, i knew at this point i wouldnt survive, i watched as everything...faded...away...it was my end

4: So like it was a rainy day or some shit(oh and btw i didnt die) and that fucknozzle whos dick got stuck in that bitch ass's mouth hole, was in the hospital, I couldnt help but bring him flowers. Aphrodisiacs to be exact. That mother fucker came so so hard the instant he saw me, so did I. I turned him over so I could fuck him in the ass, but he kept trying to put his mouth all over my dick so i gave up and let him. His mouth was so powerfull, I came out every last fucking oz. of cum in my body, and since my body is , or was 99.9999% cum thats ...acctually not alot. Wowwzers. He swallowed it. He swallowed it real good hehe. And his dick all if the sudden fucking broke in half and exploded from trying to achive a boner. Yaaaass, it was so glorious the fountain of blood piss and cum, that spurted out of his dick. I knelt to the ground and let it get all over me, it was so nice and warm. The nurse came in. And when she saw the events her dick rose up and broke the ceiling , making it fall thus resulting in her death. Yeah she ded as fuuuuuuck. She will be remembered by the jizz pile she left behind...Or so said the dickmaster at her memorial dick service. 1600 big black cocks were erected in her honor...i acctually cried a bit. I went home to masturbate, I needed to shake off all the sadness somehow. And it sure did, the stream of cum falling down my hard shaft, made me happy. I dipped my finger on it to taste it, and HOLY FUCKING SHIT, it Fucking tasted fucking amazing as fuuuuck. I used the rest as a cheese substitute and bought it to my aunts house for a party. People gave me compliments and asked what i put in my maceronni, and when i told them their mood seemed to depress abit. Like holy damn, its jut fucking jiss bitches, nothing to be afraid of. And when i thought things couldnt get anyworse these little greedy bitch kids stole my rainbowscarf and my dildos. Those little assholes... Whatever i chose to let it go. Those were starting to develop permenant stains anyways.

5. One day after all the rain and fuck. I came upon this lady with some flyers. They read "dicks and genitles for sale 20$ or a kidney" My dick started to harden because of all the possible opprotunities that came to me. I was also kinda hungry. Somewhat for food, but mostly for a bigass deeuchk, YASSS. So I went to the adress on a flyer. I ended up at a sketchy motel where the same lady was sitting at a booth , while all the old genitles were begining to decompose. It was so fucking sexy, they were dripping flesh and cum everywhere and blood to. I browsed for a while until i came across the mosybeautiful think id ever seen. A super old vagina, that was as delicate at this point as soggy paper and it also had some potato salad looking stuff on the side, and a lot of the outer skin was there too. I picked it out , paid the lady my 20 bucks and went home. Before i straight up ate the seximous thing. Something occured to me. What iF i made a sandwhich with this? And sold it for 1,00,000$? HOLY SHIT I CAN FINALLY AFFORD A BIKE AT CERULEAN CITY. A small heartshaped tear of joy fell across my face. So I quickly ran to town to sell it. And i know what ur thinking , and yes I did fuck my dog And my cat before i left because if i didnt that would be bad manners . So anyways I ran to town, in the nude of course, with my big africanamericanimmagrentmiddleclasshomosexual dick flipped and flapped in the wind! When i got to a sexy enough place, bitches were all over the sandwhich. One person offered me 999,999 but they would finger my fuck hole for the extra dollar so i could cover for that. So anyways while the guy was fingering me the void in my asshole activated and sucked most of his arm in , all the way to his shoulder. At first it was strange adjusting to eachothers company but we then settled our differences. Later we would get married, adopt 9000000000000000000000000000000000000000 cats to fuck, and then 4 as pets. One time i diaread on his arm so hard it went down his throat, along with most of my jizz. And then one day i woke up sore as hell. My husband was on the floor, with half of his arm missing and blood splattered everywhere, I thought this was the sexiest thing in the whole damn universe, so I jumped on top of him and put his dick in my as, and I fisted him with the other half of his arm that i found in the dildo compartment.

Day. 6

(Sometime like 5 years in the future or some shit) so my husband had died from sucking a dick that was too long , and it was epic, it went all the way even went through his asshole. Oooh it was amazing, blood and cum was flying everywhere. Ugh it was so awesome i wet myself to the point there was a puddle 5 feet long. Then that bitch ass hoe cunt bitch from earlier, yes Her, burst in screaming "BITCH I AINT THROUGH WIT YOU YET I SERIOUSLY WILL SHIT IN YO CEREAL BITCH U BETTAH WATCH IT!!" How in the hell are you alive? To which she replies "ooh i just needed some jiss on my tits and some cum on my face and in my hair and mouth. Ohhh damn. Hey do you wanna make a sandwhich? Ok. So we both laid down intertwined our legs and rubbed our vaginas together. Ooh it was soo fucking hot. I came too early all over her cunt and it sprayed so hard that she started losing skin and blood. Ooh it went so far and powerfull that her body disentegrated and her physical being seised to exist. After these events a hot guy came in. I jumped him and began making out with him really hard. Before i knew it he had me against a wall. We began to rip eachothers clothes off violently. I grabbed his ass, then began inserting two fingers into his fuckhole , while he sucked my big africanamericanimmegranthomosexual dick all the way to my big white balls. He turned around and offered me his ass. So i ripped off the rest of his pants which were at his ankles, and threw them. His pants hit the grill and lit on fire. I almost looked back but he grabbed my face and said in a sexy voice "thats not important now" and shoved my dick in his ass. Ooh it was soo tight. I felt like i would cum instantly. My vagina clenched when i finally came. After that we said our goodbyes. The next day i journeyed to cerulean city, to pick up that damn bike. Latest edition automatic dildo bike."get fucked so fast youll have anal seepage for days" was their slogan. I went to the lady up front and purchased the bike. She seemed horrified when she saw my bank account. Then she pointed to a sign that read "richest person in kanto had 999,999$ but gave it away for an old crusty vagina sandwich!" Eh that kinda rang a bell. Nah im not familiar with that. So As I walk out, I find this dumb ass white bitch yelling at her slowbro telling it to fucking cut a tree down with dem blunt ass claws. It was a small as fucking tree, you can walk around the fucking tree dont be a bitch lady goddamn. So I had to walk around a fucked up path where i was attacked by purple dildos, flying dildos, and electrical anal beads. And after all that I went to a building with a large red roof. All that was inside was this pink haireded lady with some large ass fucking tits, and a little fat bitch by the name of chansey at her side. I went up to her and asked if she sold beer...No, This bitch grabs me, puts me onto a weird machine. It was like a rave on LSD. I heard a nice little tune after a bunch of beeps. Then before i can think.. Bitch rips me off the machine and throws me onto the ground. Then she kindly says "we hope to see u again" like bitch really, umm hell no. So I walked out and found an old ass power plant, with the same electrical anal beads from earlier hanging out around it. I yelled "NOPE!!" Fuck that"" and ran like shit crazy. I accidentally ran into a hot redhead in a bathing suit. The dildo on her bike was 12 inches long, mine was only 8... I expressed my jealousy to which she asked me to challenge her. I ran as far as i could, then a portal appeared. I went in to escape the deranged bitch that was chasing me, she only wanted me for my hot vagina. So the portal took me home. I checked to see if there was a cum stain on the right side of the sofa, and there was! I was finally home. So i ran outside stripped naked and fucked someones dog who they werent watching at the time. When i came though, the dog acctually exploded , and It blew my physical being out of existence ...

THE END.

So one say my boss bent me over his desk with my big tits swinging back amd forth, He ripped off my pencil skirt and screamed "ooooooh maureen, I want ur anis nooowww" as his tentacles went in my anus. It was so fucking hot. Then the door busted opened! A cunt bitch who claimed she was gonna beat mah ass as revenge against my father. She was tryina be a bad bitch, so I had to teach dat ho a lesson...by beatin her ass and stickin her head on a stake, and skull fucking it at the same time. Then an angel appeared, he told me my attempts were futile, that in the next edition of your ass arms, she would return!!! Her body began to reform, so I stuck my fist in her vagina to prevent resurgense, and it workedc the bitch died...for now

So I wake up one morning and the "cunt bitch" is standing above me , like bitch really? She got off on my face, then got off the bed to a boxx of dildos, we are roomates now. She began unbottoning her blouse, and her boobs fell so hard to the ground. I picked them up for her and asked where she wanted them put, she then grabbed them amd stuffed them up her vagina,oooooh it was so hot. I bent her over the table and began fingering her fuckhole, the oozey seepage coming out was soo amazing so I grabbed a glass, filled it up with the shit piss cup, and forced her to drink it. She looved it. Oooh. I began slipping my 1400000000 inch dick so far inside of her that i touched her soul, and she screamed so valiantly it was totes amazeballs

#fanfic #notreally #Iwrotethiswhen #nostalgia #your #your-ass-arms #yourassarms #art

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viralhottopics · 7 years

Text

I felt the love finally at the Women’s March, but what do we do tomorrow?

Fear for the world my unborn daughter would inherit spurred me to join the march but on the day I wanted to see more rage, more action, more chanting

The night before the Womens March in DC, my best friend McKetta and I lay on the floor with her hand tucked under the waist of my maternity jeans, waiting for the baby to kick.

Five months earlier, Id gotten pregnant on purpose, and the nausea of my first trimester had coincided with the election. My husband and I found out it was a girl just in time to watch Hillary lose at which point the usual pregnancy neuroses (Will she survive gestation?) spun out into broader, abstract fears about the new world order (If she does survive, then what?).

Like any desperate, lazy person, I turned to the internet for answers, eventually Googling something along the lines of, What the hell do I do now? Various listicles popped up, a mix of sarcastic and sage advice on how to best expend ones energy in the wake of Trumps triumph, and one said to sign up for the Womens March. So I called McKetta, who was skeptical but said shed meet me, and now, here we were.

I dont feel anything, she said.

I shook my head. Me neither.

The next day at the Womens March rally, I waited to feel something. And when Ashley Judd gave her speech a mangled, rambling, beat poetry thing, where she amped up her southern accent and likened modern-day microagressions to black slavery and the Holocaust I felt a little like Id taken acid (bad acid).

McKetta and I wondered what was wrong with us. Had all those conservative takes about the march being a hysterical white woman thing soured us against the catharsis wed promised ourselves? There were so many things to feel glad about: we were here, other people were here, the place was packed, it was glorious. People estimated that at least 500,000 had shown up. Yet we felt frozen. It was as if our emotions had petrified at some point after the election.

Earlier that morning, our hosts (who work in government and wished to remain anonymous), reminded McKetta and me to write our blood types and medication allergies on our arms in Sharpie. People were saying the march could turn ugly, and if we arrived at the hospital unconscious, the doctors would need to know certain things. I reached for the pen and wrote PREGNANT on my wrist, along with everything else. Now I felt stupid about it. Nothing really crazy had occurred. The most dangerous thing Id encountered so far was the slippery bathroom floor at Fudruckers, where a woman had fallen into my arms, and I had held her like a baby.

En route to the march, we had passed a clothing store display window, in which mannequins had been dressed and positioned as protesters, holding placards to advertise mens wrinkle-free dress shirts. (FIGHT THE POWERS THAT CREASE!)

And I felt a little like that now: an automaton, holding a nonsense sign, trying to sell something. I wanted to see more rage, more action, more chanting. Perhaps I was hoping that with more anger on display, whatever Id been holding inside since the election whatever emotions had petrified would finally thaw.

Personally, I feel dead inside, McKetta commiserated. Like, I wish I could open my cold dead heart to this, but maybe part of the reason Im so closed off is because this feels really good, and Im not allowed to feel good because nothing is fine. She looked up at me. You know what this is like? Its like those uplifting photos of veterans coming home to brand new golden retrievers, and you feel so moved, because theyve got this friend but then you catch yourself, like, wait. Thats not the war.

While we waited to march (there was some down time between the rallying and the actual marching) we killed time on Pennsylvania Avenue, where men shook Womens March T-shirts in our faces, hassling us to buy feminist souvenirs. One guy tugged my coat sleeve. Buy one shirt, get one hug, he leered.

I feel like this is a really complicated instance of sexual harassment, mumbled McKetta.

Women were all shaking their signs, and cheering with and for one another women of all ages and colors and shapes, women who drove forward side by side in electric wheelchairs, or strollers, or on rollerskates and we marched with our sisters straight past a begging homeless woman, who was hungry, and whom everyone ignored.

Kathleen Hale and McKetta at the Womens March in Washington. Photograph: Jason Hornick for the Guardian

Almost everyone around us, including me, was wearing a pink handknit hat with little ears, or pussyhats. Someone had gifted me one for the march, enclosing a little pamphlet that explained pussyhats would be a way to reappropriate the language Trump had used to shame us, while also aesthetically uniting the rally. I wondered whether the pussyhats, as a visual unifier, were in some ways compensating for a lack of coherent ideological agenda. So far, the prevailing criticism of the march had been that it touted no clear message, no clear demands.

Sure weve got different signs, different agendas, one woman reassured me, when I asked her about this. But that doesnt point to an overall fractured agenda. Its because Trump has hurt us in so many different ways, so were reacting in different ways.

The Republicans have done a better job of consolidating issues, she continued. What works against [the Democrats] is our inclusivity weve got a huge diversity of thought that could be misinterpreted by some as discrepancies. She jutted out her chin, nodding at an ugly Trump effigy that someone was holding. But Id rather be inclusive and too nice than hateful and bigoted, like him.

I guess thats what is so great about women: we were peaceful. We would not play into negative presumptions about us by sidetracking our cause with violence.

Underneath the cheering, you could hear endless compliments of one anothers clothes or choice of signage, and thousands of muffled apologies issued between women as they pushed through the tide of the march en route to meet friends or find port-a-potties because thats what women do when they need to get in your way and have no reason to hate you: they apologize.

Its part of the problem, but its also what makes being around them feel so safe.

Next to me, a daughter climbed on her mothers back for a better view and laughed, squealing at the sight of so much pink.

Something in me shifted. I felt tears prick my eyes. A teenager turned to me, her eyes haloed in glitter, and said, I cried too, when I saw everybody here like this, together all of us, and looking so, so strong.

Are you OK? McKetta asked, taking my hand. A few people noticed the gesture and started to cheer, waving rainbow flags in ecstasy.

Just pregnant, I said.

But I felt something not just my daughters feet on my bladder (which was also happening) but a sense of re-engagement. Like maybe if I could stay close to other women, not necessarily 500,000 at a time, but close to a few at all times, my daughter would be OK, and learn to love and defend and champion other daughters, no matter who they were, and no matter who was president. I cared about these people. I didnt know them, but I cared. And I felt that, even if some of their current excitement about McKetta and me had to do with their thinking we were lesbians, they cared about us too, and that together, we were better, and that the world, or at least our communities, might become better, too, because of us.

Hours later, as the march petered out, moods were high. Police allowed our crowds to walk directly down the center of Pennsylvania Avenue, which is called Americas Main Street, even though it had not been permitted for our march. We stopped to boo outside the Trump International Hotel, taking breaks to commiserate about our lives and political beliefs and hopes for the future.

Suddenly, the only Trump supporter Id seen all day yelled down from a flight of stone steps, Welcome to Trump Land! He laughed at us, this big, performative, maniacal laugh, eyes shaded by the red hat. And in response, a man leapt from our crowd and attacked him. It was horrifying, these two fat men, punching and tearing at each other. And all of us, all the women, in unison, began screaming at them, chanting, Stop, stop, stop!

They heard us. The dudes stopped. We shamed them into stopping.

On this one corner our peacefulness had produced tangible results. Thousands of us had shown up, for ourselves and each other. It was amazing. We all agreed. I returned to our hosts apartment feeling full of hope. But later that night, at dinner, one of our hosts told us a story that made me pause about how when they were young, they used to sit with their friends around this big, spool table, high on acid.

And wed figure out the universe. Wed figure out the whole universe! But I was always the one who said, Wait, guys what do we do in the morning?

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