#LED Chips Market

[semiconductors-and-technology]

LED Chip Market Analysis of Growth Trends for 2023-2030

Illuminating Innovation: A Deep Dive into the LED Chip Market

In the world of lighting technology, Light Emitting Diodes (LEDs) have emerged as a beacon of efficiency, sustainability, and versatility. At the heart of every LED luminaire lies a tiny yet powerful component known as the LED chip, driving the revolution in energy-efficient lighting solutions. Join us as we embark on an enlightening journey through the LED chip market, exploring its significance, innovations, and the transformative impact it holds for the future of illumination.

Understanding LED Chips

LED chips are semiconductor devices that emit light when an electric current passes through them. These tiny chips, typically just a few millimeters in size, are the building blocks of LED lighting systems, providing the essential light source for a wide range of applications. LED chips are engineered to produce specific colors and intensities of light, making them highly versatile and adaptable to various lighting requirements, from general illumination to specialty applications such as automotive lighting, horticulture, and display technology.

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The Significance of LED Chips

In an era marked by growing energy consumption, environmental concerns, and the push for sustainability, LED chips offer a compelling solution for reducing energy usage and carbon emissions in lighting. Compared to traditional incandescent and fluorescent lighting technologies, LED chips consume significantly less energy, last longer, and produce higher-quality light with superior color rendering and consistency. Moreover, LED chips are mercury-free and emit less heat, making them safer and more environmentally friendly than conventional lighting sources.

Innovations Driving Market Growth

The LED chip market is characterized by continuous innovation and rapid technological advancements, driven by the demand for higher efficiency, performance, and reliability. Innovations such as chip-on-board (COB) technology, phosphor conversion coatings, and micro-LEDs are pushing the boundaries of LED chip performance, enabling higher luminous efficacy, color accuracy, and design flexibility. Moreover, advancements in manufacturing processes, such as epitaxial growth techniques and wafer-scale packaging, are driving down production costs and improving the scalability and affordability of LED chips for mass-market adoption.

Applications Across Industries

LED chips find applications across a wide range of industries and sectors, from general lighting and automotive to signage, displays, and consumer electronics. In general lighting, LED chips are used in residential, commercial, and industrial luminaires to provide energy-efficient illumination for indoor and outdoor spaces. In automotive lighting, LED chips enable high-performance headlights, taillights, and interior lighting systems that enhance visibility, safety, and aesthetics. Moreover, in specialty applications such as horticulture lighting, UV disinfection, and wearable technology, LED chips offer tailored solutions to meet the unique requirements of each application.

Towards a Brighter Future

As we look to the future, the LED chip market holds immense potential for driving progress towards a more sustainable, energy-efficient, and connected world. By embracing the advantages of LED technology and investing in research, development, and innovation, we can unlock new opportunities for lighting design, human-centric lighting, and smart lighting solutions that enhance quality of life, productivity, and well-being. Moreover, as LED chips continue to evolve and diversify, they will play an increasingly important role in shaping the future of illumination, from smart cities and IoT-enabled environments to immersive entertainment experiences and beyond.

In conclusion, LED chips represent a shining example of innovation and sustainability in the lighting industry, offering a pathway towards a brighter, more efficient future for illumination. By harnessing the potential of LED technology and fostering collaboration between industry stakeholders, we can illuminate the path to a more sustainable and connected world. Let's embrace the possibilities of LED chips and light the way towards a brighter future for all.

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[uglare1]

3.0 inch 30W-35W 5500K Round Shaped Bi LED Fog Projector Lens Kit

"Product Details: The Fog Projector Lens is not the same as the headlight lens. Fog lamps (whether in the front or in the rear) are not mandatory and are considered auxiliary lights. But without a fog light lens, it will much dangerous in heavy fog, rain, and other weather conditions that reduce your visibility on the road. Our bi-led fog light lens has high beam and low beam which make your driving much safer.

Specification: Feature: Bi-LED projector lens, offer both high lights and low lights function. With the solenoid and cutting shield, these bi-led fog projector lenses can provide beautiful low beams and high beams. Projector Dimensions: 3.0 inches. This is 3.0 inches bi-led projector lens.

LED chip: Built-in Customized LED chips. High-Quality Taiwan LED chips are used to provide good quality with brighter lighting output. These Customized LED chips have 24 month’s warranty." For more information visit https://www.uglare.com/product/3-0-inch-35w-5500k-round-shaped-bi-led-fog-projector-lens-kit/

[techtimechronicles24]

🇺🇲 Dive into the history of the Apple III (styled as apple ///), a computer that marked an ambitious step forward for Apple Inc. Released in May 1980, the Apple III was designed to be a successor to the highly successful Apple II series, aimed at the business market.

💻 The Apple III was envisioned as a business-oriented machine that would bridge the gap between personal and professional computing. Apple sought to improve upon the Apple II's capabilities, both in terms of hardware and software, while maintaining backward compatibility. Steve Jobs, who was heavily involved in its design, emphasized aesthetics and functionality. The Apple III featured a sleek design and was intended to be more robust and reliable, with enhanced performance.

⚙️ The Apple III was powered by a 2 MHz Synertek 6502A processor, an improvement over the Apple II's 1 MHz processor. It came with 128 KB of RAM, expandable to 512 KB, which was a significant upgrade at the time. The computer featured an internal 140 KB 5.25-inch floppy disk drive. An external floppy drive could also be connected for additional storage. The Apple III supported a variety of display modes, including 24 lines of 80-column text and multiple graphics modes. It ran on Apple SOS (Sophisticated Operating System), which offered advanced features such as hierarchical file system and support for multiple users.

💡 The Apple III introduced several innovations, including a built-in clock, advanced sound capabilities, and a new keyboard design. However, it also faced significant challenges: The Apple III initially suffered from severe overheating problems due to the lack of a cooling fan. This led to hardware failures, with chips often becoming dislodged from their sockets. Early units were plagued by reliability issues, which hurt the computer’s reputation in the business market.

💔 Despite its rocky start, Apple released an improved version in 1981, known as the Apple III Plus, which addressed many of the initial issues. The Apple III ultimately did not achieve the commercial success Apple had hoped for, with only about 65,000 units sold. Nevertheless, the Apple III played a crucial role in Apple's development. The lessons learned from its challenges influenced the design and engineering of future Apple products, including the highly successful Apple Macintosh.

💾 The Apple III stands as a fascinating chapter in the history of computing. While it may not have achieved the commercial triumph of its predecessor or successors, its ambition and the innovative spirit behind its design left an indelible mark on Apple’s evolution. Today, the Apple III is remembered as a symbol of both the challenges and the relentless drive for innovation that characterize Apple's journey.

[marrkopolo]

A Wise Man Once Said

Precious lost its ring in the scrap yard with no metal detector the lavender pussywillows hide the trolls

Hong Kong wheel of fate UW spinned it first Knights of Templar slaughtered at a mass concert of bloody crimson tide

Tithe on a full moon for 2x the glee The crash of waves against the rocks, like bodies slapping against each other during sex blood shooting through veins Hot heat, sticky, in Iceland together I too, know of these lands

Tax season says the King! blue knots on a tent red food buckets hung like death #four crosses in a foreign land alone is no place to exist

An underwater welder lying on the blue tarp, is like a union of troops led by a zebra.

Flying flags at Disney welcome to the world of water failed regret, emptiness and betrayal tattered flags get left to rot sew it in with the others together and the quilt becomes strong and scintillating

Crush you with your own history headless horseman and halo hair dark horse donuts This is as good as it gets!

Red-lipped lipstick cracked porcelain face You can't hold a candle to this

King of the Hill My pool stick is clean now true Kings swim in the swimming pool together King of the Hill Jack of Spades went with the stolen crown and robots learn to volunteer.

Pledge to a sanitizer salute to a gong beat your chest it's loud and strong Love at first sight or sounds like a good idea Wisdom of the crowd or individual motivation?

A rabbi with the yachts Fortified lamps sees all UFOs, telekinesis and even explosive lingerie. One denarius for a days work Why they get more? Stand while another sits. Then switch roles and you'll see why.

What sees with three eyes? The melatonin-like parental bond, third eye awoken, Moksha.

Insane Luke has a scar red dots that kill. Baldie takes biosphere crown the bald animal is cutting loose again Is doraphilia still fun to you?

I attempt to transform but the tea is too strong my hands have small heart Lying down a tiny raindrop falls into my ear swirling into the cochlea My whole world has changed!

Eczema stealing make-up twice North Face go north Racks of weapons are not enough this time

My mask is old but gold bars had paved my fortunate path …a fortunate path(whispering)

Tik Tok vault one exit is enough The eagle has docked into spray-painted madness. Not to fret I hear a falcon cry Jump when the law is bent it will help you fly

Six shooter Six pack 3 sewers 3 fires Twin-spirit 1 spacesuit

Mountain top king of the hill climb Nepal Hajj pilgrimage princess climbs like a pirate piggyback down the wedding aisle

Opposites attract

One fell to its doom down the abyssal void towards the bottom and a ghost ship lost in the Bermuda Triangle with Pandoras Box Lazarus

Gunpowder in shoes Footprints in the sand Jesus did not tap

Short and tall fat and thin Lookalikes Soundalikes Smellalikes the hunt of touch and taste What double currencies create the ultimate Yin Yang effect? AI said to cure pride and competition, exchange abacus rubik-cubed calculators instead of cash.

Echoes and reverberation voices become lightning WATTS= AMPS X VOLTS

Float your payloads into the troposphere with skinny vertical structures of contained saltwater Heat a planet with a satellite asteroid belt

A call for help QR codes morse code gun flare smoke signal what are your coordinates? R-E-B-O-R-N

Some ancients say gunpowder only made flee then gun made to kill Oil spills from bronze age to silicon chips flood the market cut the mall castle cake in half Zangief on a segway You win.Perfect.

Lawrence Groves copyright©2024

[vintagerpg]

Is Deadlands (1996) a horror game? I dunno, but it certainly uses enough orange in its trade dress to get a Halloween season post.

It uses the template set out by Shadowrun and dominant for many RPGs in the ‘90s — a single core book with a bunch of interesting classes, each governed by their own unique mechanics, let loose in an unusual world, in this case an alternate version of the mid-1800s. The core mechanics make use of dice, of course (which can explode), but the game also incorporates playing cards, poker chips and a good deal of card-playing nomenclature. Hucksters, my favorite class, use the arcane secrets of Hoyle’s Book of Games to cast spells, which is accomplished at the table by putting together a good poker hand. There are undead and demons trying to drown the world in fear and the Civil War is dragging on and California fell into the sea. There weren’t a ton of Weird West games in 1996, or maybe even any, so Deadlands cornered the market for a good long while (though in typical ‘90s fashion, its handling of both Native American affairs and the Civil War could be better). It’s also one of the first RPGs, along with Castle Falkenstein, that can easily be classified as Steampunk.

It remained pretty popular until publisher Pinnacle accidentally killed it (and itself) by making a D20 version of the game. That’s OK though; that surprising turn of events led to the development of Savage Worlds and, arguably, a superior version of Deadlands using that system, Deadlands: Reloaded.

For more on Deadlands, you can read the chapter dedicated to it in my book, out yesterday! That feels so weird to say!

[sanyu-thewitch05]

I need more messed up female reader inserts. More ambitious, manipulative, unapologetically cut throat characters. So for this next idea I have a Male Yandere General X Female Reader Noblewoman.

General premise…reader Darling is a noblewoman whose family took in a slave mother and son during young childhood because they looked more unique compared to other slaves on the market. (I have no idea what type of era this is set in, but maybe this is more fantasy based?) Darling is a prodigy and sees the slave son (whose the yandere) natural gifts at combat/weaponry, so convinces her father to make the boy into a soldier for their family to use to win favor of the royal family. Darling manipulates the boy for years, knowing full well his romantic feelings for her. She promises to marry him  and give him his freedom, as long as he keeps climbing the military ranks, winning battles/wars, and contributing to their noble family name. Darling knows that doing this will ensure an easy bargaining chip with the royal family and the general people that her family deserves to be “rewarded” for their contributions to the kingdom. In other words, Darling wants to be future Queen, always has, and she’s seen poor yandere as nothing but a pawn. After yandere comes back from latest brutal war, he hears the news of Darling’s engagement to the crown Prince. Heartbroken and betrayed, he snaps and launches a coup (which is quite easy because the kingdom loves yandere more than the royal family), granting Darling’s wish of becoming future Queen…just not the way she imagined…And Darling will always be the apple of his eye, but maybe she should “earn” and “fight” her way up to Queen from slave, just as he had to fight from hell and back all his life from slave to king. Couple goals, am I right?

A/N: Finally finished this ask! I hope you like the twist and many hints within this. BTW, this is more tame and doesn't have smut. It does have a happy ending though. Anyway, I hope you enjoy reading this!

TW: Mentions of drugging

You were always meant for greater things. Luckily, you have a plan as to how to get it. First, you must work your way up the nobility ladder until you reach the prince. Then, seduce the prince and bear him children to secure your throne. But that takes time, and time is limited when you're a human. So you took a shortcut and used the latest Elve slaves to help you. The son, Rhys, around your age (14), possesses great potential, not only in magic but in swordsmanship. So, you convinced your father to put him in knight school. Behind the scenes, you make false promises of freedom and marriage to him.

The one condition he has to follow is to keep climbing the military ranks and contributing to the family name. He believed it like a fool, and soon enough, he became your personal knight. A knight in shining armor or a white knight in a way. Rhys was always around you. Which led to him witnessing your most vulnerable moments.

"Milady, wake up. My lady!" Rhys whispers, secretly using his magic to float up to your levitating body.

"Hm?" You moan, waking up and realizing your body is floating several inches into the air.

"You were doing it again."

"Sorry, Rhy."

You think of a feather slowly falling, and you're on the mattress again. Rhys climbs onto the bed and sits next to you. He lets you climb into the safety of his arms for sleep.

"Please don't tell anyone, Rhys," You say, resting your head on Rhys's chest.

"I won't, milady," Rhys says, rubbing your head until you go to sleep.

The next morning, your mother took you to a cottage in the wilderness near the Elves's kingdom for your 16th birthday.

Then, one brutally hot summer day in your delicate 21st year of age, war broke out with the Elf kingdom. King Faenelis of the Elves used magic to fight the war. This created a problem for your kingdom, and so Rhys, other elves, or mages were sent to war. Admittedly, you missed his presence around the manor. You missed him teaching you things about his culture. You missed the gifts from the forest he would give you. But, good news came, and your dream came true. The prince of your kingdom, Prince Calion Veranda, proposed to you at a ball you attended after a night of drinking, dancing, and mock swordfights.

You immediately moved out of the manor and began your life at the castle. You were so happy with the prince that you forgot about the war until it arrived at your doorstep.

"Kill the prince, but spare the girl!" A familiar voice screams, the sound of footsteps coming towards you.

"Go into the tunnels and keep running. I'll find you!" Calion whispers, pushing you away.

You run into the tunnels, and your brain rings from the sound of water dropping and hearing your own footsteps. The tunnels seem never-ending. Suddenly, as if you're losing your mind, whispers start to echo through the stone walls.

"My love, come back."

"I'm here for you."

"I can hear you."

"I feel you."

"I know you."

"Did you really think you could run away?"

"Ooh! Would you shut up?!" You scream, making everything go silent.

Drip. Drip. Drip. Dri-

"Found you!" Rhys says, his milk-white hand pulling into the walls.

You open your eyes and see a more rugged Rhys standing in front of you. His muscles are bulging through the silk white, and green royal clothing.

"Hi, my queen," Rhys says, grabbing you by the chin.

"Rhys, what are you doing? You're going to ruin our family name," You ask, looking him in the eyes.

Those silver eyes mock you.

"I came back and launched a coup with the support of the people. Don't worry, your family is safe. But this kingdom is going to be ruled by me and renamed into Faeranda. It's all your fault. You know, I heard about your engagement and came for you," Rhys monologues, pointing his sword at the crystal wild violet necklace around your neck. "You still wear this necklace? I thought your parents-no! Your father told you not to wear that. What did they say, "Don't wear anything that woman gives you." 'sounds familiar, doesn't it?"

"Don't bring grandma into this!" You yell, pushing his sword away from your neck.

"A crystal wild violet for a girl born on the first of May," You and Rhys repeat, making you shocked at what you said.

"Now I see why your little prince was so eager to marry you despite your dirty family secret. You asked your grandma for advice. And advice she gave in the form of a pink bottle. Like mother like daughter."

"That's impossible, she's dead."

"Dead? Ha, don't make me laugh! You forget your parents made your personal knight. I've read your diary. I managed to break the spell you put on it. I know that three times a week and on certain holidays, you would go to a cottage in the woods housing your grandmother. All covered for by your dear half-witch mom."

"..."

"You learned magic. You know spells, curses, and hexes passed down through generations of your maternal line. You have a grimoire, a personal and family one. You wanted me out of the way so you could get the prince you never had a chance with. But guess what? Your prince is dead, and I'm the new king. You're going to be my queen."

"Rhys, you're crazy."

"You wouldn't want to break dear grandma's heart, would you? While organizing for the coup, King Faenelis, my father, found your grandma, and she told him her deepest wish was for her granddaughter and daughter to have a safe place to live and practice magic. With me as king, I'll bring a new age of magic to this kingdom. Your grandma can live with you again. You can see the cousins and family you never saw in public. You can feel no shame when your magic slips up. You could ride your broomstick whenever you want."

Rhys made a tempting offer. Sure, he killed the prince you drugged to get, but Rhys being king had many benefits for you. You knew what he wanted in exchange, and you had to grant it.

"I, Y/N L/N, break the physical and magical chains placed upon you and your family. You are free," You say, using magic in front of Rhys.

Silver chains appear around Rhys's body and dissolve into dust. You feel the suppressed magic of Rhys and back away. He summons a ring with a bloomed rose design for the green amethyst. Rhys puts it on your finger, and the elf magic flows through your body. A chain appears around your wrist, and a handle in Rhys's palm.

"What have you done to me?" You ask, feeling weak.

"I made you my slave. You're going to have to work your way up from slave to queen. You have to earn my trust. Don't worry, it's temporary. You'll be free after your true self," Rhys replies, pulling the chain so you crash into his chest. "I love you. We're going to have a great wedding with an even bigger after-party."

You hide your face in his chiseled chest. Both of your feet slowly levitate until you're hugging him midair. Being with him always made your magic act out. Then again, it was for the best. You were so tired and wanted to let it go wild. With him, you could do that. You could always do that with Rhys. It was one of your dirty secrets.

[robertreich]

How the Corporate Takeover of American Politics Began

The corporate takeover of American politics started with a man and a memo you've probably never heard of.

In 1971, the U.S. Chamber of Commerce asked Lewis Powell, a corporate attorney who would go on to become a Supreme Court justice, to draft a memo on the state of the country.

Powell’s memo argued that the American economic system was “under broad attack” from consumer, labor, and environmental groups.

In reality, these groups were doing nothing more than enforcing the implicit social contract that had emerged at the end of the Second World War. They wanted to ensure corporations were responsive to all their stakeholders — workers, consumers, and the environment — not just their shareholders.

But Powell and the Chamber saw it differently. In his memo, Powell urged businesses to mobilize for political combat, and stressed that the critical ingredients for success were joint organizing and funding.

The Chamber distributed the memo to leading CEOs, large businesses, and trade associations — hoping to persuade them that Big Business could dominate American politics in ways not seen since the Gilded Age.

It worked.

The Chamber’s call for a business crusade birthed a new corporate-political industry practically overnight. Tens of thousands of corporate lobbyists and political operatives descended on Washington and state capitals across the country.

I should know — I saw it happen with my own eyes.

In 1976, I worked at the Federal Trade Commission. Jimmy Carter had appointed consumer advocates to battle big corporations that for years had been deluding or injuring consumers.

Yet almost everything we initiated at the FTC was met by unexpectedly fierce political resistance from Congress. At one point, when we began examining advertising directed at children, Congress stopped funding the agency altogether, shutting it down for weeks.

I was dumbfounded. What had happened?

In three words, The Powell Memo.

Lobbyists and their allies in Congress, and eventually the Reagan administration, worked to defang agencies like the FTC — and to staff them with officials who would overlook corporate misbehavior.

Their influence led the FTC to stop seriously enforcing antitrust laws — among other things — allowing massive corporations to merge and concentrate their power even further.

Washington was transformed from a sleepy government town into a glittering center of corporate America — replete with elegant office buildings, fancy restaurants, and five-star hotels.

Meanwhile, Justice Lewis Powell used the Court to chip away at restrictions on corporate power in politics. His opinions in the 1970s and 80s laid the foundation for corporations to claim free speech rights in the form of financial contributions to political campaigns.

Put another way — without Lewis Powell, there would probably be no Citizens United — the case that threw out limits on corporate campaign spending as a violation of the “free speech” of corporations.

These actions have transformed our political system. Corporate money supports platoons of lawyers, often outgunning any state or federal attorneys who dare to stand in their way. Lobbying has become a $3.7 billion dollar industry.

Corporations regularly outspend labor unions and public interest groups during election years. And too many politicians in Washington represent the interests of corporations — not their constituents. As a result, corporate taxes have been cut, loopholes widened, and regulations gutted.

Corporate consolidation has also given companies unprecedented market power, allowing them to raise prices on everything from baby formula to gasoline. Their profits have jumped into the stratosphere — the highest in 70 years.

But despite the success of the Powell Memo, Big Business has not yet won. The people are beginning to fight back.

First, antitrust is making a comeback. Both at the Federal Trade Commission and the Justice Department we’re seeing a new willingness to take on corporate power.

Second, working people are standing up. Across the country workers are unionizing at a faster rate than we’ve seen in decades — including at some of the biggest corporations in the world — and they’re winning.

Third, campaign finance reform is within reach. Millions of Americans are intent on limiting corporate money in politics – and politicians are starting to listen.

All of these tell me that now is our best opportunity in decades to take on corporate power — at the ballot box, in the workplace, and in Washington.

Let’s get it done.

[marshmallowprotection]

I’d actually like to hear your thoughts on that Unknown birthday cg

I actually love the composition of this artwork. It'd be wrong to share it without sharing the other half to it, though. Saeyoung and Saeran are a package deal. But, as it stands, these images stand in contrast to each other for a reason. Saeyoung's at a party that his friends put together for him, and Unknown's at a party Rika made for him. There are undeniable facts about these images.

Unknown's staring into a mirror, his eyes in a trance as he watches his reflection, and to me, it's always read like a dissociative episode. He's spaced out for a reason. He was trained to hate his face because it was his brother's face. He avoids looking into mirrors for a reason... and yet, on his birthday of all days, he's staring into a large mirror at his reflection.

A reflection that's known to spark feelings of contempt, sickness, and anger in his heart.

Why?

Why is looking into a mirror when mirrors are known to make him feel sick? Unknown wouldn't choose to do that on the day that sets him off. He wouldn't! I think, one could argue that maybe he would if he thought it might remind him of why he's upset to begin with. But, he doesn't purposefully go out of his way to trigger himself throughout the game, if it happens, it's far from happening on purpose.

Which is what led me to believe Rika hung the mirror from the wall OR choose that spot purposefully—to hurt Unknown. That much I can say for certain.

Even on his birthday, he's not ALLOWED to forget what she's trained for. He's not allowed to be happy. He's only allowed to think about the brother who STOLE EVERYTHING from him while he rots away with nothing to his name in the walls of a Paradise that will never a sincere Paradise. He has to think about the brother who MADE HIM feel bad. He can't escape it. Rika won't let him escape it because he's a simply a weapon for revenge now, no longer does she see him as a son.

His birthday cake is made of chocolate and his pint of ice cream is chocolate, too. There aren't many things he talks about enjoying in the game, but he does make it clear that he enjoys mint chocolate chip ice cream.

Ray revealed that fact in 2019. I mean, could that be his favorite flavor and not Unknown’s favorite? That's always possible, after all, they're not the same person. But, I have always operated under the suspicion that they share favorite ice cream flavors. They like how it stays on your tongue, cold, sweet, and just a little bit chewy. It's nice on a hot day.

I don't think he's super picky about ice cream since you probably can't go wrong with ice cream in his eyes, but the fact that he's able to establish a favorite kind of ice cream shows me that he does care about what he gets if he's allowed to have a choice. Like, I would love vanilla ice cream if it's offered, but if you had an assortment, I'd want chocolate or mint chocolate chip!

This is a character who has been repeatedly robbed of his autonomy time and time again, both with contempt and with a naive thought to protect them without thinking of his choice, and if he was asked what kind of ice cream he wanted for his birthday here, I think he'd pick his favorite if he could.

He clearly didn't pick here. I mean, you can check out the seasonal chats if you want to for 2020. Unknown tells Yoosung and Zen that he loves ice cream and even if they think he's some kind of program and not a real person, he still wants them to leave out the ice cream because, hey, what kind of person wouldn't want an ice cream if it was offered to them? I don't know people who would turn down the ice cream.

But, again, if you can choose the ice cream you're given, won't you pick your favorite flavor?

If you buy the folders from the market, you'll be treated to Unknown and Seven enjoying each other's ice cream, but while Saeyoung looks content with his ice cream, Unknown isn't enthused by Superman ice cream. My boy isn't picky about ice cream but he probably wouldn't want to consume his twin brother's favorite flavor... especially not at a time wherein anything related to Saeyoung makes him want to gag.

If the only ice cream he had to eat was that of his brother's favorite flavor, I think he'd do it, but I don't think he'd be happy about it in the end. It would take the ice cream experience, but he's not going to say no to something that makes him happy in a world that already has caused him to feel apathetic about most things. Yeah, it might not make him happy to have something that reminds me of his brother, but most things remind him of his brother and it's an inescapable tragedy. 

I don't think I need to talk about the representation of black roses in this game when it comes to this character, either. He is given this particular flower whenever he is in a timeline that doesn't bode well for him. It is a representation of the fact that he no longer has hope for a brighter tomorrow. All he sees on the horizon for his life is death and apathy.

Death can also be transformative, but that is not the reference we are meant to take away when we see it represented like this. GE Saeran's got a black rose around his throat during the RAE when you team up with Rika to turn him into a product of consumption to "survive" in a world that lets Saejoong get away with everything. But, anytime I see those flowers with him, I associate it with a loss of autonomy.

I associate it with Rika's control.

The one thing that's bothered me ever since I've seen the image is that bottle of alcohol sitting in the background. I mean, it doesn't have to be alcohol in that fancy sparkling glass, but there aren't too many drinks that are placed inside of those containers and the more I think about it, the more uncomfortable I become. I try not to think about it, and I often tell myself that the only reason why it's there is because the artist might not have been told about the character's trauma.

After all, if the artist was made aware of this fact, it means the choice was intentional to place the bottle of alcohol within the image. I have no idea if the artist was made aware of that fact. The only reason why I tell myself that the artist might not have known is because Rika was also represented with alcohol in one of her birthday pictures, and she does not consume alcohol frequently or at all, either. 

In fact, Rika canonically scolds Jihyun and Jumin often for their poor drinking habits and reminds them to be responsible. There's a chat in Another Story where Jumin and Jihyun turn silent when you echo the words Rika once told them about alcohol.

The alternative in this situation if we don't believe the artist made a mistake without being aware of the lore is for me to believe that she specifically chose to put alcohol on the table knowing that it would trigger him. 

Because, unfortunately, since the artist made that decision, it leads the player to interpret that she purposefully put that bottle there to hurt him. I recognize that most people aren't going to think that hard about this and for the most part, it might fly over your head without a second thought, but it bothers me. I am a stickler for fine details and if you're a person who loves to speculate and dig into some media for everything you can find, this is one of those things that’ll haunt you. 

At the end of the day, it comes down to how you want to interpret the image, if you want to take it at face value for what it is and recognize that the artist likely didn’t know, that’s okay. If you would prefer to read into it as something that makes your stomach turn into knots knowing that Rika might’ve hit him where it hurts most, that's alright, too. 

I try to suspend my disbelief as much as I possibly can to ignore that bottle, but the bottle is there, and I can’t avoid it no matter how much I want to unsee it.

I have a hard enough time in the fandom when it comes to people representing the twins and alcohol as it is. These two are never going to drink a drop in their life, and if they do—There is a situation where Saeyoung drinks champagne in V Route, but it’s when he’s hit rock bottom and he thinks his brother is dead and it’s been two and a half years since then.

The last time his brother was alive, there was going to be a party. The trauma is going to come back to life as soon as the party is brought up again, and that is the only reason why I think he decided to drink that day. He was at the end of his rope, and he decided he would do the one thing he promised never to do because he thought it would numb his emotions enough to survive the way he saw his wretched mother tried to numb every miserable moment of her existence. 

I don't think he enjoyed it, though. I think he took a sip of it, and then he immediately wanted to throw up. He gets rid of the rest of the tiny glass and he never touches alcohol ever again. 

I've seen far too many people represent these two as characters that will drink without a second thought. There is no mention of their trauma, there is no regard for what they've been through, and there is not a second in the narration that even remotely points to the fact that they have trauma that stems from their mother's alcoholism. 

I can't tell you not to write something you want to write, just as much as someone can't tell me not to write what I want to write, but when you have no regard for this specific trauma, it makes me wonder how much compassion you have for somebody who has the same kind of trauma in real life. 

Because, this may be a huge stretch, I know, but if you can't respect a character who said they don't want to drink anything that contains alcohol and you write them doing it anyway, who’s to say that you’ll respect a real person telling you the same thing? 

Far too many countries have socialized drinking to the point that anybody who doesn't want to drink, regardless of the reason, will be shamed or ostracized for it by others in the room. I can't tell you how many people have tried to tell me to take a small sip of alcohol since becoming an adult, and I’ve refused. It's fine and dandy if that's what you want to do, as long as you're doing it safely!

But, why am I the one who is asked questions for saying no?

I don't shame anybody for enjoying and consuming alcohol, so why is it that I hear, "Well, just take a sip! How can you know if you've never had it? Here, let me shove this in your face and keep pushing you to do something you're clearly not okay with!" I don't want it.

This is also the case for many people my age who aren't interested, because I've heard the same thing from others who have been poked and prodded at like me. None of us owe you an explanation as to why we don't want to consume alcohol for whatever reason. No means no. That should be respected at the end of the day, point blank. 

Saeran hasn't said it as bluntly as Saeyoung, but you should be able to infer quite easily.

[reasonsforhope]

Toledo City Council just approved a plan to turn $1.6 million in public dollars into as much as $240 million in economic stimulus, targeted at some of the Ohio metro’s most vulnerable residents.

“It’s really going to help people put food on the table, help them pay their rent, help them pay their utilities,” says Toledo City Council Member Michele Grim, who led the way for the measure. “Hopefully we can prevent some evictions.”

The strategy couldn’t be simpler: It works by canceling millions in medical debt.

Working with the New York City-based nonprofit RIP Medical Debt, the City of Toledo and the surrounding Lucas County are chipping in $800,000 each out of their federal COVID-19 recovery funds from the American Rescue Plan Act.

The combined $1.6 million in funding is enough for RIP Medical Debt to acquire and cancel up to $240 million in medical debt owed by Lucas County households that earn up to 400% of the federal poverty line.

“It could be more than a one-to-100 return on investment of government dollars,” Grim says. “I really can’t think of a more simple program for economic recovery or a better way of using American Rescue Plan dollars, because it’s supposed to rescue Americans.”

How It Works

Under the RIP Medical Debt model, there is no application process to cancel medical debt. The nonprofit negotiates directly with local hospitals or hospital systems one-by-one, purchasing portfolios of debt owed by eligible households and canceling the entire portfolio en masse.

“One day someone will get a letter saying your debt’s been canceled,” Grim says. It’s a simple strategy for economic welfare and recovery.

RIP Medical Debt was founded in 2014 by a pair of former debt collection agents, and since inception it has acquired and canceled more than $7.3 billion in medical debt owed by 4.2 million households — an average of $1,737 per household...

Local Governments Get Involved

The partnership with Toledo and Lucas County is the third instance of the public sector funding RIP Medical Debt to cancel debt portfolios.

Earlier this year, in the largest such example yet, the Cook County Board of Commissioners approved a plan to provide $12 million in ARPA funds for RIP Medical Debt to purchase and cancel an estimated $1 billion in medical debt held by hospitals across Cook County, which includes Chicago.

“Governments contract with nonprofits all the time for various social interventions,” Sesso says.

“This isn’t really that far-fetched or different from that. I would say between five and 10 other local governments have reached out just since the Toledo story came out.”

What's the Deal with Medical Debt?

An estimated one in five households across the U.S. have some amount of medical debt, and they are disproportionately Black and Latino, according to the U.S. Census Bureau...

Acquiring medical debt is relatively cheap: hospitals that sell medical debt portfolios do so for just pennies on the dollar, usually to investors on the secondary market.

The purchase price is so low because hospitals and debt buyers alike know that medical debt is the hardest form to collect...

The amount of debt canceled for any given household has ranged from $25 all the way up to six-figure amounts. Under IRS regulations, debts canceled under RIP Medical Debt’s model do not count as taxable income for households...

Massive Expansion Coming Up

After not one but two donations from philanthropist MacKenzie Scott, totaling $80 million, RIP Medical Debt is planning for expansion.

It’s using a portion of those dollars to create an internal revolving line of credit to expand to places where it can find willing sellers before it has found willing funders.

The internal line of credit means the nonprofit now has new, albeit still limited, flexibility to acquire debt portfolios from hospitals first, then begin raising private or public dollars locally to replenish the line of credit later and make those funds available for other locations.

“People often ask, do you only work with nonprofit hospitals, or do you work with for-profit hospitals? And I’m like, I just want to get the debt, regardless of who created the debt. If it’s out there, I want it,” Sesso says.

Fundamentally, they are not solving the issue of medical debt, but easing its pressure from as many lives as possible — while also upping the pressure on lawmakers and the healthcare industry.

“We’re intentionally taking the stories of the individuals whose debt we have resolved, and putting their stories out into the world with intention in a way that tries to push and create more of that pressure to fundamentally solve the problem,” she says.

-via GoodGoodGood, 4/6/23

[zvaigzdelasas]

[TIME is US Media]

U.S. and European officials are growing increasingly concerned about China’s accelerated push into the production of older-generation semiconductors and are debating new strategies to contain the country’s expansion. President Joe Biden implemented broad controls over China’s ability to secure the kind of advanced chips that power artificial-intelligence models and military applications. But Beijing responded by pouring billions into factories for the so-called legacy chips that haven’t been banned. Such chips are still essential throughout the global economy, critical components for everything from smartphones and electric vehicles to military hardware.

That’s sparked fresh fears about China’s potential influence and triggered talks of further reining in the Asian nation, according to people familiar with the matter, who asked not to be identified because the deliberations are private. The U.S. is determined to prevent chips from becoming a point of leverage for China, the people said.

Commerce Secretary Gina Raimondo alluded to the problem during a panel discussion last week at the American Enterprise Institute. “The amount of money that China is pouring into subsidizing what will be an excess capacity of mature chips and legacy chips—that’s a problem that we need to be thinking about and working with our allies to get ahead of,” she said.[...]

Legacy chips are typically considered those made with 28-nm equipment or above, technology introduced more than a decade ago. Senior E.U. and U.S. officials are concerned about Beijing’s drive to dominate this market for both economic and security reasons, the people said. They worry Chinese companies could dump their legacy chips on global markets in the future, driving foreign rivals out of business like in the solar industry, they said.[...]

domestic producers may be reluctant to invest in facilities that will have to compete with heavily subsidized Chinese plants. [...]

“The United States and its partners should be on guard to mitigate nonmarket behavior by China’s emerging semiconductor firms,”

While the U.S. rules introduced last October slowed down China’s development of advanced chipmaking capabilities, they left largely untouched [sic] the country’s ability to use techniques older than 14-nanometers. That has led Chinese firms to construct new plants faster than anywhere else in the world. They are forecast to build 26 fabs through 2026 that use 200-millimeter and 300-mm wafers, according to the trade group SEMI. That compares with 16 fabs for the Americas.

So what's the problem? is it that you suck at manufacturing & want more neoliberalism? That's what it seems like to me [31 Jul 23]

[bengiyo]

Last Twilight Ep 4 Stray Thoughts

Last week, Mhok took Day out of the house to handle his withdrawal from university. The dean only allowed a temporary pause, encouraging Day not to give up on schooling or his future. While at school, Mhok made Day take him around a bit, but also helped shield him from encountering some of his friends before he was ready. Later, they went to a busy market to search for a book Day wanted on what was absolutely a date. Unfortunately, Mhok lost focus at one point and started fighting Porjai’s fiancé when he realized ole boy was stepping out on her. Mhok managed to find Day through the help of the hot pink shirt they had bought earlier, and then went home to Day’s worried family. The mom tried to fire Mhok, but Day stepped in and refused to let Mhok go.

“Do you even know how to flirt? I bet you don’t,” into Mhok putting the bowl of jasmine flowers in front of his nose. You both are fooling no one.

I like that Mhok is still taking Day out on trips, and I’m glad we’re using the He’s Coming to Me car.

Oh no, the intentionally bad singing. I almost never have to mute the singing, but did so here.

I love the dynamic between Porjai and Mhok. We almost never get to see exes with a functional friendship. That Mhok will likely end up with Day, and projecting a bit because of Namtam, we have bisexual exes with a good friendship. That feels special.

Day seems insistent about this friend thing, and it clearly touches Mhok.

Look at Day trying to get some details on Mhok by calling him Porjai’s boyfriend. He’s clever, but so is Porjai.

I’m always happy to see Film. I like this character already. She’s got a little bit of a chip on her shoulder that makes her seem tough.

I’m glad Day’s sense of humor has returned and he can tease Gee. That’s a good sign.

I like the show introducing new social challenges for Day every time he steps out a little bit to do something again. Telling Gee led to going to the gym, which led to an invite to a team event, and now he’s been faced with a fan.

I am very much looking forward to Day meeting August again.

Sea really has a great smile. He’s grown a lot as a performer since Vice Versa.

I also won first and second place trophies in national competitions. I feel for Day here.

I feel like I saw a recipe for this soup earlier today but cannot recall the name now.

This soft hands scene is GAY as hell!!

Mhok and Keng about to be like Kim and Sheego: ON SIGHT.

SHE’S PREGNANT!!

Did the badminton team host their goodbye party at a gay club??

Okay, I like Khaw asking Day about porn. That’s probably dude behavior. Quickly communicates the past relationship and their attempts to be more comfortable with each other.

Mhok really is so tactful when it comes to Day. Showing up in the bathroom and clearing up that social situation instantly was so well done.

No, Day, please don’t make Mhok sing again. I’m enjoying the flirting enough!

I fully expected Mhok to sing the romantic song from the car and was not wrong. Oh, Aof.

I wonder how badly Day and August parted that he was so nervous about running into him today.

Just throw him into bed sweaty and in his outside clothes??

Oh, whew, we’re making Day change at least.

Mm, I’m feeling emotional about Day trying to privately see Mhok’s face and not give himself away.

Yep. Mhok was in prison. He’s definitely a light sleeper, and definitely knew what as happening.

Oh, hell yeah! August shows up next week!

This really is one of my favorite shows airing right now. Aof has a strong handle on the pacing of relationships, and he loves when relationships work towards emotional closeness after another boundary is crossed.

[jampc]

angeleyes ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

ʜɪ ! ɪ ꜱᴀᴡ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴘᴏꜱᴛ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅʙᴢ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴛᴀɢ ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴡᴀɴᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴡᴇʟᴄᴏᴍᴇ ʏᴏᴜ :) ɪ ᴀʟꜱᴏ ᴡᴀɴᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ ᴀɴ ᴀᴅᴜʟᴛ ᴍᴀɪɴ ᴛɪᴍᴇʟɪɴᴇ ᴛʀᴜɴᴋꜱ ꜰɪᴄ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ʜᴇ'ꜱ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ ꜱᴘᴏɪʟɪɴɢ ʜɪꜱ ɢꜰ (ʏᴋ ꜱɪɴᴄᴇ ʜᴇ'ꜱ ʀɪᴄʜ) ᴀɴᴅ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴍᴇɴᴛɪɴɢ ʜᴇʀ ᴇᴛᴄ !! ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴍ <- anon

pairing: trunks/f!reader

words: 1,224

content warnings: none.

tags: fluff, drabbles, romance, sfw.

rating: G

a/n: so fluffy it might make you explode. or at least cause massive amounts of eye rolling 😭. hope you enjoy it nonetheless ⋆˙⟡♡✧˖°

"I've told you before, it's my money. I can do whatever I want with it!"

"But-"

"And no buts! This is my house and if I say we're going out to the fair then that's what we'll do." The young man smiled down at his girlfriend as she pouted up at him in a sulk.

She knew how much he loved this time of year, when all the local businesses would set up stalls around the town square for people to come along and buy their wares from them.

It was like Christmas on steroids, with everything being open until late into the night every day of the week. There were rides, games, food stalls and so many other things to see and do.

“But you know I don't like crowds," she whined. "And there's bound to be lots of drunk people who might try something."

"I promise I won't let anyone take advantage of you while we're here. And besides, everyone knows me. They'd never dare mess with us." He gave her a kiss on the cheek before standing up and pulling her up by the hand. "Come on, let's go."

She sighed as she followed him out of the door and towards the car. He had a point though; he could probably handle any trouble that came his way if it did arise.

Even now, they only needed to look at each other for a few seconds and they both knew exactly what the other one was thinking.

They drove through the town centre and parked up near the edge of the market area.

“We should get some tickets first," he said as they got out of the car. "That way we can ride all the rides without having to wait in line."

"I suppose so," she replied. "But you know I'm not really that fond of rollercoasters or anything too fast."

He laughed as he took her arm and led her over to the entrance gate.

A few moments later, they were inside the grounds and walking amongst the stalls which lined either side of the walkway.

Most of them sold clothes, jewellery and other accessories but there were also plenty of food stands selling hot dogs, chips and candyfloss.

"It looks busy already," he commented as they made their way slowly through the throng of people.

"I think we're going to have to fight our way through. But I think I know a shortcut."

"Oh goodie!" she replied sarcastically. "How exciting! Let's go."

The finally found the ticket booth.

“Two please," he said to the lady behind the counter. "For two adults."

She handed them each a paper ticket as well as a plastic bag containing a pair of wristbands.

He slipped his on and watched as his girlfriend did the same.

Once they'd put their bags back in the boot, he looked around and spotted a small kiosk on the far side of the field.

"Come on," he said excitedly. "Let's go on the merry-go-round."

He grabbed your hand and pulled you along after him as he made his way across the grass.

You could hear the music playing as you walked towards the brightly coloured horses.

When you got to the front you realised there was a queue leading onto the ride itself and several more queues waiting to get on once the previous ones had left.

"I knew i should've bought out the fairground earlier," he muttered.

"Oh hush, it doesn't matter," she whispered sweetly in return. He started pushing the people in front of him aside until he reached the head of the queue.

As soon as his turn arrived, he held your hand tightly as you stepped aboard the ride.

You held on to his waist firmly and gripped tight the metal bars above your head.

Then, the whole thing began moving round and round, faster than you thought possible.

Your boyfriend's hands tightened even further as you squealed with excitement whilst trying desperately not to lose grip of the bar.

After about five minutes of dizzying motion, the ride stopped again and you felt yourself start falling forwards as it slowed right down.

Luckily your boyfriends strong arms kept you from plunging off the seat completely, although they couldn't keep hold of one hand for very long.

“Wheeee!! That was fun," you cried breathlessly. "Let's do another!"

“We should go on one of those little bumper cars next," he suggested with a chuckle. You nodded your agreement eagerly.

They headed towards the exit and went outside where there were dozens upon dozens of these miniature vehicles racing around a large wooden track.

You choose a vehicle and climbed inside. Your boyfriend choose one nearby, hopped in beside you and wrapped his arms around you protectively.

"Hold on baby," he growled softly in your ear.

"Ooohhhhhh!" you screamed in delight as you careered around corners, narrowly missing other cars on numerous occasions.

You bounced up and down against the seat as you spun around, laughing madly, feeling safe in your boyfriends embrace.

Eventually he released his grasp on you suddenly and you fell forward as you tried to grab the steering wheel. The force sent you hurtling off the seat and crashing to the floor, hard enough to knock the wind out of you.

"You alright?" he asked, looking concerned.

"Y-yeah I think so," you stammered between gasps for air.

“I love you," he told you as he leaned down and kissed you tenderly.

After a moment you recovered your senses enough to smile at him and reply.

"I love you too."

A short time later, you were sat back down enjoying yourselves on one of the benches whilst he was feeding you ice cream.

You were giggling like children, holding hands and talking about all the stupid things that happened to you during the day. Eventually, the sun started setting and the crowd started thinning away.

“I know sometimes we argue but it makes me happy to spend time with you," he told you earnestly.

"It does make me happy too," you admitted. "I wouldn't want to change a thing."

"You’re so beautiful," he continued dreamily. "So caring and compassionate too. If you weren't so shy, I could tell you how wonderful you are to me."

You blushed deeply, embarrassed at having been spoken to quite so openly.

But still you felt your heart begin to beat faster as the words sank in deep within your mind. He leant in closer, his voice dropping even lower.

"I've fallen in love with you," he mumbled quietly into your hair. "And I intend to marry you someday."

You froze up instantly and stared wide eyed at him. His face dropped slightly and he cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Well, it’s getting late we better head home," he said with forced jollity. "It's a long drive tomorrow."

You nodded dumbly and allowed him to lead you back towards the car.

Once they were both seated safely inside, he turned towards you with a big grin plastered across his handsome features.

"So..." you murmured uncertainly. "Are you sure...you meant that...?"

His mouth split into a huge grin and he shook his head playfully as he spoke.

"Yes, of course. What kind of idiot do you take me for? Now buckle up, sweetheart, 'cause it's gonna be a bumpy ride!"

[sallage]

The Milkman - NSFW

The Wheel AU

Part 1 

Warning: This is an intense tickle fic!

Summary: It had been years since Bakugo had last stepped foot outside of the city. Graduating U.A. at the top of his class, interning and working for The Genious Office, and making a name for himself had been cake once Deku was suspended. The first few months, he'd hardly thought about the nerd. After that, not at all. What he didn't know, was that the life he'd grown acustomed to was about to derail in one of the most sadistic and twisted ways he'd never thought possible.

Pairing: Lee Pro Hero Bakugo, Ler Villain Deku

Words: 10,466

Reading Time: 41 Minutes

A/N: Holyyyyyyyyyy shit. This is the longest fic I have ever written. I had sooooooo much fun writing this and I'm actually kind of proud of it.... just a little(: Please let me know what you think! Enjoy!!

Read more ∘₊✧ Here ✧₊∘

The room was mostly empty. 

Bakugo was blindfolded, but he could sense it. He could tell by the way the metallic clang of the chains clamoring around his neck reverberated off of the walls. The bastard had fucked with Bakugo enough for him to learn how sound worked in a small room, which is why his heart was already in his throat when he felt a tug against the icy narrow band, which he’d learned the hard way, meant stop.

So he did.

“Good boy.”

Bakugo growled, a low animalistic noise from deep within his throat. If someone gave him one million attempts to predict his future, he never would have guessed this.

That he would end up a piece of meat for the nerd to fuck with for his own sick, demented pleasure. 

When Deku was suspended from U.A., Bakugo's graduation at the top of his class became effortless, with the internship and job at The Genius Office falling into place just as smoothly.

Once Bakugo had turned twenty-five years old, he had developed a high level of renown and respect as a hero. The final arc of his success was right there, literally in the palm of his hands. 

Then everything went to shit.

It was supposed to be a simple mission.

Reports of a faceless crime lord monetizing black market drugs and illegal erasure darts on the dark web were far from unknown. However, an anonymous tip had led them to discover a money laundering outpost posing as a trading card store. After years of coming up empty, Bakugo was itching to discover something, anything useful.

All they had to do was monitor the establishment.

Bakugo couldn't see the use of the three men sent to scout with him, especially after the store had closed, so he’d sent them home with a note reviewing the new tracker that had been implanted in their gums. The technology was new and not widely tested yet, plagiarizing elements of skin and bone, so Bakugo was confident that the chip would be missed if he were somehow captured and searched.

He’d spend the next several hours watching.

Maybe he should have gone home after the fifth hour of quiet.

It wasn’t until four in the morning, when a small sliver of activity caught his eye.

A lone person in a black hood quietly exited the dark store.

Bakugo recognized the possibility of a diversion, that the person in the hood was simply meant to draw prying eyes away from the store while other things went on behind the scenes. Bakugo had seen the trick used before.

But he couldn't help but feel… drawn.

So he followed them.

The thought to report an update was fleeting.

The hooded figure remained silent and unperturbed. Bakugo kept a safe distance in the shadows, his soft footfalls masked by the rising pitch of the winding river and bridge ahead. The figure's movements remained consistent and steady as they both crossed, the city now but a shimmering dot in the darkened distance.

They crossed into ghostly, suburban territory. 

After around ten minutes, a graffitied public school park looming under a broken flickering street light caught his attention.

A twinge of familiarity ran down his spine.

Distracted, Bakugo didn’t see the hooded figure round the sidewalk. Cursing, he rushed to catch up.

When he’d rounded the corner, they were standing in the center of the street, staring at some old, tragedy stricken apartments with their hands casually slung into their pockets.

Bakugo considered the situation, and his eyes narrowed as he contemplated initiating a confrontation. The very small and mature voice he’d annoyingly developed in his mind told him to think about his endgame. If he rushed the shady bastard now, he would tip off the villain operation and everything they’d learned up to that point would be as useful as dirt. He’d need to have reasonable proof and all he’d had was a stupid feeling.

Bakugo gritted his teeth and growled under his breath. He’d wanted to confront the fucker and kick his ass, but it was too early to have a full picture of what was really going on. The store could simply be that, a store, with nothing more to it.

He rolled his eyes and before he could talk himself out of it, took careful steps away in an attempt to slip back out, then paused. Maybe if he could catch a glimpse of their face…

“My mother still lives here.”

Bakugo's body went completely still. His breath stopped in his throat, and his heartbeat pounded in his chest like a hammer against steel.

The figure lowered their hood, glowing green eyes trained on the apartments.

Bakugo blinked. Everything else fell away from him.

“Everyday I think she’d leave, especially after I destroyed the neighborhood. Do you think she’s still waiting for me?”

He should have left right then and there.

Instead, Bakugo rose from his crouch and slowly walked out onto the street. Each step he’d taken had an undeniable ferocity to it, his eyes like two burning embers that could turn into an inferno at a moment's notice.

It was the fucking high school drop out. And he knew Bakugo was following him. He’d probably known it the second he’d left the store, maybe even before. 

“Izuku.”

“Kacchan.”

The familiar nickname wasn't spoken with the same fondness that it had once been uttered with, instead carrying a tone that made it sound more like an insult.

Gone was the silly, quirky, and fun-loving person that was filled with goodness and joy. In his place stood a dangerous, predatory, and threatening presence. In his eyes no longer shined the bright light of his once golden heart, but instead the glimmering of a cold and dangerous predator.

“Don’t do this! Please don’t let them take it, Kacchan!”

Bakugo scowled at him, his palms grew hot. 

“Why the hell are you here?”

He should’ve reported the update. Hell, he should’ve called in the entire damn agency.

Deku’s voice was steady, eyes trained on the apartments. “You didn’t like our walk down memory lane?”

Bakugo’s eyes sparked.

The playground, the river, the fucking card store.

Bakugo bristled. He should have known. It was obvious. “Answer the fucking question.”

Black tendrils slowly slithered out of Deku’s back. Bakugo’s palms sizzled.

“No one’s talked to me like that in a long time.”

Without so much as a twitch as a warning, one of the tendrils struck. Bakugo quickly shifted and dodged, failing to realize that Deku had simply struck the ground just next to where the blonde once stood, intentionally pushing him right into a hulking frame standing silently off to the side, who wrapped massive arms around Bakugo’s chest from behind. 

His palms crackled and sparked with the orange and red of his quirk, building up and igniting in a devastating explosion that engulfed them both in a calamitous blaze of volatile force. 

Somehow, deep in the heat, he felt a sudden and painful sting on the side of his neck. 

In an instant, the heat and power from his attack subsided, dissolved by the abrupt numbing sensation that spread through his body and left his hands smoking and twitching. His body tingled, all of his senses numbed and weakened.

“Motherfffuuhh-”

Another sting, and his vision wavered and blurred. He shook his head, fighting against it.

It was a fucking trap. Set For him. 

He’d known he was going to pass out and these fuckers were going to take him. He’d wanted to fight it with as much defiance and disrespect as he could. Profanities spewed from his lips accompanied by worthless sparks that popped from his numb, useless hands. His eyes seared into Deku, but the villain’s eyes remained locked on the apartments, not even sparing him a sideways glance before whatever drug they injected him with finally overwhelmed his senses.

He’d woken up in the same damn room he’d been staying in for the past week.

Over the course of that week, Bakugo had fought harder than he ever had in his entire life. He’d bitten fingers, head butted anyone within range, and spat. His mouth proved to be as dangerous as his quirk, but three days in the muzzle and firmer restraints taught him to use his talents sparingly.

As expected, they’d missed the tracker during the strip search. He’d woken up with it warm against his tooth, confirmation that someone was indeed looking for him.

So he’d reserved his energy, save for every few minutes or so when he would religiously check if the quirk erasure dart was still active, hoping to catch it before they’d eventually inject him again.

On his first night, blindfolded, cursing and thrashing, they’d shoved him into a chair and bound his legs to it along with his arms to a hanging contraption above his head. It took seven of them to eventually subdue the aggressive pro hero, all of them walking away with some kind of injury.

Deku didn't make an appearance that night, but the orders to his grunts were clear.

Extract any information Bakugo had uncovered about their operations.

Bakugo was expecting to be tortured. He’d mentally prepared himself for it the moment he’d woken up in this shit hole. And he was, just not in the way he was expecting.

Deku didn't want to dignify Bakugo with a formidable excuse for when he eventually gave up. He wanted to humiliate him.

For the first three days, he was brutally and sadistically tickle tortured.

When the method of torture was revealed, to say that Bakugo was flabbergasted would be an understatement. He’d imagined needles under the nails or flaying. Hell, he was even expecting something ironic like being branded or burned alive. So when he was finally forced into the chair, the last of his flailing limbs secured, he braced himself for the kind of pain that would match the reputation Izuku created for himself, only to be startled by harmless and rough fingers and hands, ticklishly squeezing sensitive spots on his body.

The pro hero sneered and taunted the goons, under the impression he was safe for the time being. 

But of course, he would be proven wrong.

The grunts took their time and expertly learned his body. They triggered reactions and sounds Bakugo didn't know he could make and tormented spots he didn't even know were ticklish. After hours of meticulous work and charting, they’d put the information they gathered to blindingly effective use. Bakugo learned a few things about himself that night, things he would pay top dollar to forget.

And he’d weathered the torture by the skin of his teeth.

The second day, Deku made a personal appearance, and cracked him in less than an hour. Bakugo answered every single question asked of him, relevant or not.

Still, it wasn't enough for the damn masochist.

Deku didn't just want answers from Bakugo, he wanted him to pay.

So now, in the fourth day of hell, Bakugo has nothing to say or give that would spare him from whatever Deku planned. 

Today was purely about revenge.

A hard hand clamped on his shoulder and the blonde blindly stepped forward, letting the hand guide him.

He swallowed his resistance and it slid down his throat like sand.

The hand lifted. He paused.

Then there was light.

Bakugo blinked several times after the blindfold was lifted. The intensity of the dazzling lights in the room made his eyes squint and nose itch. His eyes landed on a tall, colorful object planted in the center of the room.

The Wheel.

Deku had seen fit to inject whimsy into his revenge plot with The Wheel: a colorful 20-slice abomination that would randomly determine how Bakugo would be tickled that day.

A fucking Wheel.

 Bakugo sizzled in place. He wanted to rip the bastard’s guts out and make him eat it. He wanted to kill him.

Deku blew Bakugo a kiss and strode towards it.

"Let's see what The Wheel wants us to do today." Deku winked and gave it a spin.

Bakugo's sense of how much time had passed was determined by how many times the wheel had been spun: 5, and this one made 6.

The Kennel

The Carwash

The Gang

The Hog

The Milkman

The wheel began to slow, its revolution enrapturing both Bakugo and Deku...

The dial stopped on The Milkman.

The door suddenly busted open and two grunts walked inside, carrying something that reminded Bakugo of a weird combination of a padded sawhorse and a spanking bench. There were cuffs towards the front where his arms would rest and vise versa where his calves would be placed. Towards the back of the middle cushion that would support his waist and hips, was a custom cut hole that looks like it could fit…

Bakugo’s eyes widened.

The smile that slithered onto Deku’s face was maniacal. 

Bakugo clenched his jaw, continuing to stare at the contraption even after Deku smugly faced him and tugged at the leash. 

“No.”

Tug

“Fuck. off.”

Deku cocked his head to the side, an amused expression squaring his face, as if Bakugo was a stubborn kid not wanting to get into the bath.

Tug tug tug tug-

“You mother fucking piece of stupid shit. I said no.”

“I don’t care.” Deku slurred, playing with the leash. “You don’t have a choice.”

Bakugo remained still. He wanted to fight. He wanted to scream. But if the past few days had taught him anything, it was that without his quirk, resistance only lead to extreme suffering. The bitter pill? Deku knew his body better than he did. The largest explosion in the world wouldn’t be enough to tamper how he felt about that.

“I could force you,” Deku shrugged, reaching over to open the collar. “That would be easy. But I think it would be more entertaining for me to watch my men do it. And if they have to come in here again, they’re staying.” Deku smiled, encouraged by Bakugo’s visible frustration. “And participating.”

Bakugo’s eye twitched. He knew that no matter what he did, he would end up on that fucking bench. His violent objections in the past had made quick work of him. Just thinking back to that damned tree…

When Deku gestured to the bench, Bakugo reluctantly obeyed.   

“Take everything off and get on.”

This was supposed to humiliate him. To make him compliant to his own torture. A sick kick back to those days in high school when he’d scream at anyone who dared to give him orders.

Cursing obscenities the entire time, he stripped off his clothes and laid face down onto the bench, carefully fitting his groin into the cushioned hole. 

Deku restrained him accordingly.

Thick, fur lined straps secured his wrists and ankles tightly. Another strap looped around his waist, and an added infinity loop tightly secured his lower thighs right above the bend of his knees, forcing his legs slightly apart and flush against the legs of the modded bench. 

Bakugo clenched his jaw and rested his forehead on the cool leather as Deku circled, lingering far too long right behind him.

“You really kept in shape.” Deku whistled.

“Fuck off and get this shit over with.”

“Excited to start?”

Bakugo jerked when he felt something ghosting lightly along both of his flanks, and he instantly knew it was Blackwhip. The touch felt feathery and ethereal, like cool fingers made of harmless, tickly sparklers. He closed his eyes and bit the inside of his cheek, grateful Deku couldn't see his face from this position.

“We have so much to catch up on.”

The ghosting along his sides curved inward, tracing and slithering over his stomach and hips. It slowly dragged back and forth, up and down over the smooth skin, making Bakugo want to claw it off.

The way he was positioned arched his back slightly, so he couldn't close that small gap that gave Deku easy access to those spots. The fucking bastard.

“We don’t have shit to do with nothin’.” Bakugo spat through his teeth, uselessly forcing himself to stay as still as possible. His stomach muscles twitched of their own accord though, instantly snitching on his stoic facade. 

“I think we do. I plan to make up for lots of lost time, Kacchan.” He goosed his ribs.

Bakugo flinched and clenched his jaw so tight, he felt the hurt in his neck. “Stop fucking calling me that.”

“Mmm. It never bothered you before. What’s different now?” 

Bakugo ground his teeth together. He jumped when he felt more tendrils start teasing the muscles on his back, tracing agonizing patterns and small circles right underneath his shoulder blades. A lone tendril slithered up his spine, slowing down just enough to trigger an involuntary lurching reaction Bakugo did every time he was touched right below the back of his neck. 

“You ffffucking-”

“Whats different now?” Deku repeated, sliding two tendrils up his spine this time.

Bakugo tensed his entire body and cringed, waiting for the tendrils to touch down on that stupid spot. Instead, he jumped when he felt them split up and caress over the top of his shoulders, tracing down to the little dip that made up the corners of his armpits. Bakugo’s arms strained, trying to push them back into himself and close the gap.

“I called you Kacchan our entire lives.” More tendrils pushed out from his back, wrapping around each of his ribs, softly vibrating in place, still tracing. Randomly, one would squeeze.

“I don’t think you’ve ever told me to stop.”

Bakugo inhaled sharply when he felt the tendrils at his shoulder blades slither down his back, the slow trek brought a curse to his lips. 

Deku didn't speak again until it teased around his lower back and touched down on his ass. 

Deku drew long and sensual circles along the soft, toned skin, causing Bakugo to twitch and huff puffs of air through his nose. Discovering his ass was ticklish was one of the things he would die to forget.

Deku’s voice was low. “The question wasn't rhetorical.” A firm squeeze to his ass made him him jump. “Or optional.”

Bakugo snarled. “Fuck off, you piece of shit.”

Deku chuckled and Bakugo seized when all of the tendrils started moving in different directions at once, all of them teasing the fuck out of him. Circles were drawn on either sides of his back, tendrils pressed inward towards his shoulder blades, along his spine, and behind his flanks. Two wafted up and down his stomach in different patterns with two more teasing the edges of his stomach. Two ghosted the rim of his armpits, occasionally dipping in smoothly, making him jump. Two teased his hipbones, occasionally dipping inward towards the inner thighs, tracing the crease right before his thighs became his crotch. The two on his ass stroked abstractly, making him twitch with each pass. He felt two additional tendrils ghost the back of his thighs and the hollows behind his knees.

He was moving around a lot now. Frustrated noises and loud puffs of air through his nose were quiet in comparison to how loud he made the bench squeak with his erratic movements. The occasional gasp left him when the tendrils tracing his ribs moved inward, playing with the sensitive spot right underneath his pecs, or that delicious spot right underneath his underarms. The occasional squeeze anywhere on his body forced him to jump. Regardless of sensitivity, all of his nerves were absolutely on fire.

 He bit the inside of his cheek when he felt two new tendrils slowly ghosting down his calves, stopping just over the heels of his feet. The only ones on his body not moving, and he was hyper aware of it.

Deku let Bakugo stew, watching the blonde lose more of his composure with every passing second. Bakugo pushed his head against the cool leather and balled his hands into shaking fists, his body starting to work up a sweat.

This was the kind of tickling he hadn’t experienced yet. It didn't make him hysterical, didn't make him scream until his throat hurt, and didn't make him thrash like his life depended on it, but it made him want to claw his fucking skin off. It tickled so fucking much, but it wasn't nearly intense enough for him to justify letting out any of the building tension through laughter. He couldn't fucking stand it.

For a hot five seconds, he went berserk on the bench. He yanked hard and bucked attempting to kick and thrash. Spittle flew from his clenched teeth and he growled when Deku watched him with a smirk, using the tendrils on the sides of his stomach to dip into a pocket of sensitive nerves right by his flanks. 

Bakugo dipped his shoulder inward and to the left, as if he could close off the gap that allowed Deku entrance. He groaned out loud and used his arms to buck once, twice, before being so fed up he couldn't handle it anymore.

“Fucking stop already!” He boomed. “If you’re gonna do it, then fucking get it over with, you pathetic coward!” The slow and methodical sensations were making him so fucking frustrated. He couldn't help the way his back arched, the way his head snapped back when the tendrils behind it slithered too close to his neck, the way his shoulders and arms jerked violently in an attempt shake off the tendrils, or the way his toes flexed and splayed regardless of the threat that ominously loomed inches away.

Deku chuckled again. “You’re so ticklish.”

Bakugo cursed when he felt two tendrils slowly gliding up the insides of his thighs. They traced the sensitive skin right next to his balls, curving up and down, spreading out and caressing the skin under his ass and back again. Bakugo spluttered and yanked hard at the restraints, the ticklish muscles in his arms flexing under the mischievous and ethereal touch of Blackwhip.

“You fucking loser ass villain bah-” The tendrils on his feet twitched. Bakugo’s mouth clamped shut.

“Hm?” Deku hummed, leaning his ear toward the heaving blonde.

“Fucker.” Bakugo cursed. “What the hell is it you want from me?”

“I’ll give you three guesses.” Deku gleefully mocked. 

“You’re a goddamn fucking moh-morohon!” Bakugo cursed, busying himself with another bout of frustrated thrashing when more tendrils swirled under his arms. “I’m not playing your backward ass games!”

Deku smirked. Without letting up on Bakugo’s treatment, he grabbed a chair and sat right next to the blonde, who had to tilt and rest his head on his left cheek to look Deku in the eyes.

“You’ll do whatever I want you to do.” He slurred, kicking his foot up on the edge of the bench where Bakugo’s shaking arm rested. 

The tendrils around his ribs prodded firmly. Bakugo flinched hard, unable to hold back the gasp that choked him.

“The day I got suspended from U.A.,” Deku’s eyes roamed shamelessly over Bakugo’s trembling body. The blonde straightened his head and closed his eyes, still painfully aware the tendrils on his feet were still as stone. Anxiety bubbled up in his throat. He knew Deku did it just to fuck with him. He fucking knew it.

“I begged you to help me.”

“K-Kacchan? Wait, Kacchan! No! STOP! PLEASE!”

“Grrh! The school hahas rules, dumbass! Not my ff-fuckin’ fault you weh-went and broke ‘em!” Bakugo snapped. The damn tendrils never stopped moving, always switching places and finding new spots on his infinitely ticklish body. He was going to throw an aneurysm if it didn't stop.

Deku’s eyes darkened. “Not your fault, huh?”

Bakugo sneered. He couldn’t focus! “Damn it! If you got somethin’ to say, just fuckin- GAH!”

The tendrils on his heels traced slowly down his foot, spilling down his arch and wiggling slowly like a snake, tracing over his incepts, the sides of his feet, wrapping around to the tops and circling their tips around the balls. 

Bakugo released a large puff of air and slammed his forehead against the leather, breathing harshly through his teeth. He yanked hard on his arms, face turning red with titanium effort. He jolted and grimaced when two tendrils slithered under his toes, the others still circling along and around the balls of his feet. Just a ghost of a sensation, but it psyched the fuck out of him.

Two more tendrils, parallel of each other, traced down the sides of his feet, looped around down to the heal, then zipped up to the toes, following the outline of the undersides and back again to repeat. Two other tendrils appeared and started tracing the ticklish spot along where the arch melts into the heal and then two other tendrils outlined his calves and ankles.

Bakugo lifted his forehead just to slammed it again against the leather rest, frustrated agony sizzling at the corners of his mouth.

Deku smirked, reveling in Bakugo’s priceless reactions. “You’re acting like I’m shoving a burning knife through your gut. I bet you would prefer that.”

Bakugo huffed and growled, sweat dripping off his heated skin. “What… do you gohddamn… aaghh- want?!”

“Let’s play a game!” Deku quickly stood, knocking over the chair. All of the tendrils finally, finally stopped and Bakugo shamelessly let his entire body flop onto the bench. He barely took two much needed breaths before Deku whistled. Bakugo heard the door open behind him, but he was too exhausted to attempt to look. That was, until he felt someone crouch underneath the bench. His head jolted up and he was about to speak when he felt something wet squishy and warm envelop his entire manhood. Bakugo jerked up so hard he actually moved the bench slightly.

“What the fuck! What the fuck?!” Bakugo screeched, thrashing heavily again as the person underneath the bench fitted the squishy thing over Bakugo’s penis and balls. The person then stood and pulled two straps around Bakugo’s waist, tying them in a neat little bow above his ass. Bakugo saw a tan hand pass Deku a controller and without a word, whoever it was, left and closed the door behind them.

Deku palmed the controller, observing it as if he were a critic admiring a strokeless painting. Bakugo’s face turned red with anger, embarrassment, and everything in-between.

“What the fuck is that? What did your perverted ass minion put on me?! Answer me, damn it!” 

“These are the rules of the game,” Deku started, ignoring Bakugo’s whining. “First, if it’s not obvious, I’ll be tickling any spot of my choosing.”

Bakugo glared at him. “What the fuck is on my dick?!”

Deku smiled. He turned the controller and Bakugo strained to see it. It looked like a TV remote but it only had eight buttons on it. One circle button in the middle with four arrows around it. There were two buttons parallel to each other below it and one button at the top.

Deku rose his pointer finger, and made a show of pressing the top button.

The on button.

Bakugo flinched with a disgusted yelp when the thing around his cock and balls started vibrating. He anchored his back and tried to pull his penis out of the hole but he couldn't lift himself high enough.

“You’re fucking kidding me!” He screamed, a whole new wave of frustration coursing through him. “You have to be fucking kidding me!” Another bout of useless thrashing. He whipped his head towards Deku, sneering at him with all the hate he could muster. “You’re fucking dead! Do you hear me? When I get the fuck out of here, you’re- AHHH!”

Deku yawned and pressed the middle button. The squishy material Bakugo was encased in started moving. It squeezed and pressed and massaged in a sloping downward fashion, simulating a blowjob with winnowing pressure that caressed his entire length. The space that enveloped his balls started gently squeezing them, massaging them softly. Then, around his scrotum, he felt a circular object like thing close tightly, acting like some sort of cock ring.

It felt… amazing.

After almost an entire week of torture, Bakugo almost succumbed to the sensations right there, despite the makeshift ring. 

Instead, he bit back his carnal reactions and pressed his forehead onto the head rest. “N- St-stop… Fffuckin’-” He groaned and bit his tongue.

“Enduring the tickling will be something you’ll have to do. What you’ll not have to do will be so much harder. Get it?”

Bakugo growled, trying to think about anything other than what his body wanted to do right now. He felt his manhood instantly get harder, more susceptible and sensitive.

“Why… why the damn-”

“I’m glad you asked.” Deku’s green eyes sparkled. “If you cum while I’m tickling you, you cant cum again on that spot for the rest of the game. If you cum twice on the same spot, you lose. If you win,” Deku shrugged again. “I’ll let you go.”

Bakugo hardly heard anything until those last four words. “What?”

“If you win,” Deku enunciated, punctuating the sentence with a careless gesture. “I’ll let you go.”

A chance. A fucking chance. He knew he couldn't rely on Deku’s word, but it was the only opportunity to present itself in this goddamn nightmare.

“Not like I… have a fuckin’ choice.” Bakugo groaned, using every ounce of energy he had not to lose the game before it could even start. 

Deku grinned. “We’ll do two rounds.”

Bakugo assumed once the tickling started, it would be easy not to focus on the thing doubling his vision. It was the only silver lining he could think of, the only hope that he could cling on to. 

Funny how he suddenly needed the tickling to overwhelm his pleasure.

“Alright!” Deku clapped his hands together. “Let’s start.”

“Set a.. Grrhh- S-set a fuckin’ timer.”

Deku tapped his temple. “It’s up here.” 

Bakugo was about to protest, but closed his mouth when Deku, with a diabolical grin, slowly unsheathed Blackwhip. The blonde watched with disgust as inky tendrils slinked toward him with twitching excitement and intent.

They touched down on his left side first, caressing his flanks and ribs and slipping softly under his arms. He cringed, the pumping sensation on his dick still prevalent. He flinched when a tendril squeezed his hips and ribs at the same time. 

“You… fuck… you said ohone damn s-spohot!” 

Deku chuckled. “I’m just trying to decide.” 

More poking and prodding, more flinching and cursing, then all of the tendrils traveled up and started tracing his shoulders, inner biceps, the lower outline and rim of his armpits.

“Here.” Deku said, joyfully. “Ten minutes starts now.”

Bakugo clenched his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut, expecting a burst of insufferable tickles, but the light tracing continued. The makeshift cock ring in the pump gradually released and he felt a rush of dangerous pleasure. With a long groan, the teasing and the tickles were completely obliterated from his mind, hardly able to feel them anymore as the pump expanded and closed in, the massage of his balls deepened causing him to shift around in his restraints, unconsciously grinding his hips to further the sensation.

He was close and was hardly resisting anymore. He teetered on the brink of ecstasy, a welcomed feeling afloat in a sea of agony and shit else. He felt something inside him swell, could have sworn the toy around his shaft pumped faster with excitement. Maybe just one time, just in this spot, wouldn’t be so bad. He could avoid it in the next round.

Yes, he’d decided. Who fucking cares if Deku watched. The sick fuck probably got off on it. Bakugo shoved his previous reservations aside and allowed the bliss to fully envelope him. Fuck everything and everyone else, with one final groan he-

“AHHHHHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! AHA! WHAHAAAA! DEHEHA- AAHHHHAHAHAHA! FUHUHUHK! DAHAHAMN IT!! YOHOU FUHKING- DAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!”

Bakugo exploded into a generous mix of curses and laughter, brought on by the four tendrils circling the rims on either sides of his armpits to suddenly close in and undulate into the sensitive flesh. One was squeezing and floating around the ticklish muscle right where the armpit and chest connect. Another was pushing and rotating just above but not quite on that delectably torturous spot above his ribs, and the last two were shamelessly digging right into the center, One stationary, the other circling largely and being sure to not to leave any spot untouched. 

Bakugo thrashed. He pressed his chest into the bench and slammed his forehead onto the headrest. His hands clenched and unclenched from their trembling fists and his shoulders bounced up and down from pure mirth. The surprise caught him off guard, although he would kick himself for not expecting it if he had the ability to think at all. 

Being denied a peaceful release at the absolute last second made his body tingle with newfound sensitivity. His stomach filled with frustration and his throbbing cock twitched as it was continuously and mercilessly pumped.

Quickly tumbling down from his euphoric high, he cursed and fought. One of the tendrils found a delectable spot at the top left inner muscle, where the edge of his shoulder creased into his armpit. Being caught so grossly off guard by the spike in sensitivity, it easily knocked and bursted through to the most secluded corners of his mind.

“GAHAHA! HAHAHAHAHA! AHAH AAAHHHAH! AAHAHAHA! FFFAAAHAHAHAHA- GGRRRAAAAH! GAHAHAD DAHAHMN IT STAHAHAHAP!”

Deku wore a toothy grin and just hummed to himself.

Bakugo tried to use his momentum to rock himself on the bench, hoping to tip the whole damn thing over but it held steady. Unable to manage anything more then a few stress creaks, Bakugo pushed each of his shoulders in and squished them against the bench, but the tickling never relented. He jolted violently when two random tendrils goosed his ribs.

“ARRRGGHH! GAHAAD DAHAMN YOU DEHEKHU! STAHPFUC- AAHAHAHA! STOP FUCKINGARAHAHOUND!”

Deku chuckled and raised his hands. “Sorry, sorry. I couldn't resist.”

“BAHAHSTAHAHARD! SHIHIHIHT! GAH! NO! NOO!! STAHAHAP!”

Deku feigned innocence as one of his lower tendrils slowly slinked more so towards the bottom of his armpits, causing Bakugo to thrash harder, doing a piss poor job of covering up his panic.

Suddenly, he yelled out when he felt the toy around his manhood start to squeeze. The tendrils under his arms gradually slowed their manic torment, leaving Bakugo huffing and puffing with each sensitive pass. Bakugo rested his sweat riddled forehead against the leather, squeezing his eyes shut in aggravation. The transition from obnoxious tickling  pleasure was rough and Bakugo felt his arms shake.

The smile in Deku’s voice was infuriating. “How are we doing?”

He didn't realize it until a surge of pleasure slapped him in the face but Blackwhip was no longer pinching and prodding. Instead, swirling and ghosting. The toy around Bakugo’s length suddenly started pumping, undulating up and down in an unpredictable pattern. Strokes, like a tongue, traveled up his length, the winnowing pressure taking him in deep while it massaged his balls. Although still there, the tickling quickly became secondary.

Bakugo couldn't help the carnal groan that left his tight lips. Everything fell away from him as he openly welcomed the only good sensation he’s felt since being in this shit hole. He wanted this and he didn't care if Deku saw and mocked him. This was only the first round, He’d be able to avoid-

Bakugo yelled out as he released the first drops of ecstasy. The slicked out muscles on his back rippled as he arched into it, riding the whole thing out. The tendrils never stopped teasing his armpits, and he didn't give a shit. He couldn't feel it anymore. Sparks ignited and bloomed across his vision. After a moment of shameful, shattering pleasure, he slumped. Spent and breathless.

Deku whistled.

The toy didn’t slow. He felt something brush across his reddened tip. Bakugo twitched and gasped, pushing his hips back as far as he could.

”Fff-Fuck!”

”That’s one for the armpits.” Deku commented, casually. “If it’s going to be this easy then I think you might be screwed.” 

“S-sta- Sh- I’m- I’m gonna-“

“What?” Deku’s eyebrows rose, amused.

”I’m gonna fffuckin’ k-kill you.” Bakugo panted, his pitch rising and falling in rhythm with the thing around his cock overstaying its welcome.

Deku’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “There’s the Kacchan I knew.” 

Bakugo opened his mouth but slammed it shut when Blackwhip started moving.

”After All Might gave me One For All,” Deku started, moving Blackwhip slowly, ever so slowly downward. “He told me to keep it a secret.”

“I’m sorry, young Midoriya. Please hold still.”

Bakugo cringed as he felt the tendrils slowly swoop over his ribs. He felt them expand so they caressed right underneath his chest. Two tendrils on each side teased the ribs that wrapped around his back, while two other sneaky ones still swirled in his armpits. He hissed through his teeth as chills iced down his spine and goosebumps appeared all over his body. He shook his head, as if he could will it all away. To his dismay, the teasing is so much more frustratingly ticklish than before.

He grunted when two guileful tendrils flicked and circled his nipples on either side.

“But I told you about it anyway, and I did it out of respect. Respect you didn’t deserve or appreciate.” Deku continued. “Even after All Might, The hero we both grew up admiring, saw it fit to pass his quirk onto me, you still told me I was worthless. Unworthy of U.A. A psychopathic freak.” 

A tendril goosed his upper ribs, another slithered down his stomach, drawing wide circles around his belly button. Two closed in on his hips, pressing into the bone with light pressure. Two teased the skin underneath his ass, two played with the tendons next to his groin, right along the edge of the toy. Another two slinked down his legs and teased his ankles while circling around the heels of his feet. He jumped when an additional pair circled around the balls, occasionally dipping in and tracing the skin right underneath his toes, massaging the stems and teasing the bases.

His heart rate picked up and his breath came fast. His skin tingled as his nerves fired at him with obnoxious sensitivity. He could feel every delicate stroke, every harsh poke, every sensual touch and squeeze, and couldn't help the giggles when they spilled out of his snarling mouth.

The fucking orgasm. It made him even more sensitive.

He was so fucking screwed.

Deku paused, letting the epiphany the other was clearly having, sink in. “I started to believe you.”

All of the tendrils poked their respective spots at once, causing Bakugo to let out an undignified yelp and jolt. Every little movement now started him to the core. 

“Funny how a worthless, psychopathic freak now holds the leash to your collar.”

“Is that what this bullshit is about?” Bakugo’s voice boomed with irritation, edgy nervousness punctuating the end of his accusation. “What the hell do you want, damn Deku? A fuckin’ apology or somethin’?”

Deku shook his head. All the humor was void from his face, his voice dark and emotionless. “I’ve never wanted anything from you.”

Bakugo blinked when Deku raised his hand with the remote and pointed it at him. He couldn't see what button he pressed, but he gasped when suddenly the toy started vibrating. Teasing strokes evolved into sensuous pumping. He was hard again in seconds.

The tendrils eased off. All except the ones stationed at his ribs. Three teased the bottom, two on his left, one on his right. Two on each side teased the middle of his ribs, swirling and poking, following the curve of his back, and another  two danced across his upper ribs, rubbing back and forth, up and down, ghosting underneath and the sides of his chest.

“I’m sure you can guess which spot is next.” Deku clicked his tongue. “Looks like you might lose before I even start.” 

Bakugo’s head snapped up from where it was resting. “Fuck you!” His biceps strained with the titanic effort of trying to lower his arms. He arched his back, pushed himself forward, tried to dip his shoulders and chest hard against the leather, but nothing phased the tendrils determined to take me straight to hell. They encouraged the sort of panic that he felt like he could taste. The toy’s vibrations increased, the flesh of the toy slowly starting to suck, doubling his vision with pleasure.

“There was a spot around here… where was it again?” Blackwhip poked and nudged at his entire rib cage. Bakugo spluttered and hissed through his teeth, body jolting and flinching with every jab.

“Fucker! You, mother fuc-!!” Bakugo spat. “Stop this- Mmgghhm- bulh-bullshit! III’ve fuckin’ had it with y-AH!”

“Mmmm.” Deku mused. Blackwhip paused, pinpointed tendrils vibrating softly right on that dreaded spot. Bakugo froze as well, looking at Deku with the most hateful glare he’d ever given anyone.

“I wonder if-” 

Squeeze

Bakugo inhaled so sharply, he choked. “AUGH! Damn it, stop!” He tried to haft and throw himself around on the bench. Deku only smiled, a sadistic glint in his eyes.

Blackwhip softly, softly undulated once more and Bakugo would have hit the ceiling if he wasn't so tightly restrained. “MMGGHH! STOP! Don’t you fucking do it, you fuck!”

The toy around his needy length pumped faster and his attention was quickly averted to the sudden burst of pleasure that wracked through his body and made him shutter. His mouth opened in a silent groan, which transformed into an unrestrained yell as Blackwhip again, teased one of his death spots.

He hafted himself up hard, creaking the bench. “NO!” He cursed, shoving all of the authority in his voice that he could muster. “Just fucking stop this! I swear to FuhuahaHAHAHAHAHAHAHAK! SHIHIT!”

The three tendrils teasing the bottom of his ribs dove in, rubbing fast and harshly between and around the bone, the third tendril went rogue and snuck over his quivering stomach and down to his thighs. Bakugo shook his head in delirium and fruitlessly bucked his hips up and down. Even with the torturous tickling rerouting his mind, the pleasure he was feeling from the toy was still very much present. Slowly, he felt himself twitch and glisten with pressing need.

Deku hummed. “Oh, does that tickle?” 

“FAHAHAK YOU! GAAGHH! NAAAAHAHAHAHA STAHAHAHAP!” 

The tendrils stationed at the middle of his ribs came alive, mimicking the same unpredictable technique as the ones on his lower ribs. Bakugo fought hard, knowing what was next, knowing he couldn't stop it. Two tendrils slowly wrapped around his thighs, goosing and tickling the whole way. Bakugo expected them to attack his thighs again, but unexpectedly, they slipped their teasing tips underneath the sleeve of the toy, now slowly stroking and wrapping around the bare skin of his penis. Aside from dissolving into harsh thrashing and seizing like he touched an exposed cable, something else instantly came over him. In a moment of panicked weakness he opened his mouth.

“AAHHH! GAHH! WAIT! FUKIN’ WAHAITWAIT! WAHT DOYOUWAHAHAHNT?!” 

Deku answered simply. “This.”

Two things happened at the same time. 

The tendrils resting and teasing his death spot pulled back and dove right in. Viciously rubbing into that incomprehensibly ticklish spot without a shred of mercy. Four more vibrating tendrils latched on, squeezing, rubbing and scratching torturously. 

The tendrils that snuck into the toy, wrapped around the entirety of Bakugo’s heat and lightly squeezed, following the rhythm of the toy. It pumped Bakugo excitedly, the two tips reaching his pre-cum soaked tip to swirl and rub, lick and tease. One of the tips pressed underneath the head, flicking under it like like an experienced tongue, while the other teased and stroked the slit.

Torn between two incredibly overwhelming sensations, Bakugo’s voice instantly gave out. For a moment, there was silence. Bakugo’s mouth was open in a silent, lustful, tortured scream, his sweat glistened muscles rippled with the intense single pull he was imposing onto all of his limbs. His toes clenched and his nails bit into his fists. After one sharp intake of breath, 

Bakugo fittingly exploded.

“AHHHHHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! FAHAHHA! NONONOHOHOHONOOOOO! GAHHH! NAHA- I CAHHAHA- ST- GAHAHAHAHAD OHHOHOH FUCK! OHFUUUUUCK!! DEHEHE- PFFTAHAHAAHAHA!! AHAHAAAASHIHIT! SHITSHITSAHIT!! AHAHAAAAAAAAHAHAH! GGRRAAAAAHHH!!! -AHAHHAHAHAAA————OOOOOPP! STAHAHAHAP STOPSTOPSTOPFUCKINGHELLSTOHOHOHOHP!! AHAHAHA————”

 Deku watched Bakugo fall apart, a maniacal, sadistic smile creasing his face. “Found it.”

“AAAAHH! FUCKDEKUSTOOOOOOOOOOOP! FAHAHAK! I CAHAHA- GAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! I CAAAAHAHAHAH-”

“What was that?” Deku stuck his tongue into his cheek. “You can’t what?”

Bakugo’s mind was blank. His entire world was encompassed by all of the sensations saturating every recess of his brain. He whipped his head around, slamming it repeatedly against the headrest, the cushioning not even allowing him the relief of pain. He quickly approached the lower level of laughter, where it became mostly screams.

“ICANTTAKEIT! OHFUCKINGSHIT I FUKIN CAHAHAHAHA! AHAHA AHA AHA AHAHAH! ICAHAHAHANT! STOOOOOOOOHOHAAAAAAAAP!”

The toy picked up its pace, encouraging the tendrils wrapped around his dick to follow along. A few new tendrils squeezed his balls, Two flicked and rubbed his nipples, one even licked up the side of his neck, right underneath his jaw. His eyes flew to the back of his head.

“Want me to stop tickling or stop pumping?”

Bakugo’s face was alight with fire, he wasted no time. “TICKLING! STAHAH THE TIHIHIH-TIHIH- FAHAHAHAK! STAHAHAHAP TIHIHAHAHA-!”

“If I stop the tickling, you’ll lose the round. Are you sure you-”

“YES! YEHEHEHS! YESYESYESJUST- SHIHIHIHT!! STAHAHAHAP! FUCKINGHEHEHELL!” 

Deku instantly stopped and focused his energy into on the blonde’s dick.

“MMMMPHHHHH FFFFFUUCK!” Bakugo moaned, arching his back and shaking his head, grinding his hips along the bench. “FFFFFFFFUHHHHHK!” Bakugo groaned, lost in a new kind of torment.

He closed his eyes, everything instantly fell away from him when he felt a tendril slip over his tip again. He felt the build up burn in his stomach, felt his penis throbbing, his tip glistening, ready for release. He felt the most powerful orgasm he’d ever had gather, aching in his swollen balls. Despite the need for air, he held his breath as the first drops of-

“GOD FUCKING DAMN IT!”

Bakugo’s voice cracked when everything simply stopped.

The tendrils and the toy fell limp. His body tingled as if all of his limbs fell asleep. Sweat dripped off his chin as he gasped. Opening his mouth to curse, a strangled sound came out instead when everything resumed. He flinched and jolted in his restraints, but the pumping and “licking” resumed, throwing him right back into that agonizing build up. Right when he could see stars, it stopped again.

He jerked his head up and seared his eyes into amused green ones with a guttural growl, only to force his head back down and clench his fists when it all started again.

“You…. You ffffuh- ffucking b-”

“I’m just helping you out.” Deku cocked his head to the side, chuckling. “Trust me, you don’t want to cum again.”

Bakugo closed his eyes, but he couldn't have a moment of rest before the pumping started again. He filled his cheeks with curses and air, releasing them in a flurry when rogue tendrils buried themselves into his ribs, his worst spot spared for now, as he was thrown head first into more ticklish chaos. He couldn't handle this much longer. He couldn't handle this now. He felt his sanity slipping through the cracks, but it didn't matter.

“I’ll make you a deal.” Deku trilled after a few more minutes. “If you beg me to cum, I’ll let you. Then we can move on.”

Beg him to lose the game. Beg him to take away the small change at freedom and hope that he had. Beg him to keep him here and torture him until help eventually came or he went batshit.

No, no he couldn't.

Bakugo snapped out of it. He returned Deku’s wicked glare and sneered. “Fuck. You.”

Deku narrowed his eyes and smirked, as if he was hoping for that exact answer. “Tickling it is then.”

First, there was a moment of silence.

Then pure, unadulterated madness.

Blackwhip attacked every inch of Bakugo’s ribcage. Bakugo screamed, a high pitched uncharacteristic shriek that shocked both of them. Then, he fell into manic, hysterical unrestrained laughter. Laughter that only maddened when his worst spot was finally targeted. Bakugo couldn't feel when the toy started again, couldn't feel the bubbling build up, or the burn of release that taunted him from mere inches away. He couldn't feel any of it, not until the tickling abruptly stopped and he stole greedy breath before countless tendrils converged on the entirety of his tip, sliding and slinking over the crimson peak it while the tendrils wrapped around his dick pumped up and down his length with mouth watering speed. His eyes stung with mirthful tears before he was thrown right back into ticklish oblivion. 

Once his death spot was awarded another short break, Bakugo used that opportunity to quickly give up.

“OKAYOKAYOKAHAHAHAHAYE! OKAHAHAHAHAY JUHUSTFUKINGDOHOHOHIT! I GIHIHIVE! IGIVE! JAHAHAAST MAAKEMECUM! DHAHAMNIT!”

“Mmmm,” Deku considered for a moment. “Say please.”

“AAGHHAHAHA!! GAHAHAHDDAHAHMN YOU!” Bakugo was slapping the edge of the leather wrist rest with his hand, trying to physically tap out. “PLEHEHESE! FUCKINPLEHEHESE! JUHUST STOP TIHIHIHCKLING!”

The tickling didn't stop completely, but it was enough. Bakugo was hardly afforded the gift of relief as tendrils immediately pumped and licked, massaged and caressed his entire length. The toy suddenly closed up around the tip and so similar to a warm mouth, he felt licking, swirling and even sucking. The rest of his twitching member was caressed and abused with soft and fast lustful strokes. Spit dribbled out of his mouth and beads of sweat glided down his sides and back as he arched.

 He had no idea how many tendrils were pleasuring him now, but every damn spot was zapped with unbelievable, world shattering, sinful pleasure. Tendrils slinked through his toes and circled around the balls of his feet. Others lightly ghosted up his long arches and more teased his heals. New, lustful feelings seared from his feet straight to his dick, which pulsed in tandem with the activity. He didn’t dare start to unpack that.

The tendrils reappeared at his nipples and neck, his eyes once again dug into the back of his head.

He lasted an impressive 50 seconds.

He groaned out loud with his long release, his damp rob and body twitching through each pump of glorious rapture. His orgasm, almost matching the duration of his endurance, forced his twitching toes to curl, the squirming tendrils undeterred by even that. His abs and back muscles flexed, the light reflecting off of each sweaty twitch and convulsion.

He slumped heavily after it was through. He bucked and hissed when the tendrils around his ribs hardly gave him a second before teasingly slinking down, tracing over his twitching sides and pressing into his hips and thighs.

“Two for two.” Deku counted, unapologetically. “I’m not sure I like your odds.” 

Bakugo couldn't muster a response. The tendrils around his hips and thighs forced a few half assed curses and poorly held back giggles from him. He arched his back, huffing when they pressed into the soft spaces inward next to his hips, ticklishly stroking down between his thighs. Oh shit.

“Agghh staha- Mmmhh. No mohore.” He murmured. His once silky ash blonde hair was now dark and matted, sticking to his eyes and head. “I-I— God, I fffucking can’t- I can’t d-do this shit anymore.” His body sizzled with heightened sensitivity. Even the breeze across his fucking feet tickled.

 Deku looked at him for a moment before shaking his head slowly. “The game isn’t over yet.”

The tendrils found a ticklish tendon underneath and inward along his ass and inner thigh, and pressed into it. Bakugo barked out a surprised laugh and squirmed weakly.

Deku was silent as he teased that spot, longer than the pro hero thought he could tolerate. 

“One more spot,” Deku announced, pushing his tendrils down over his thighs, creeping over the back of his ticklish knees, lingering there for a moment before tickling toward his calves. “Then round two starts.”

The tendrils slowly slithered down this calves, forcing him to half groan, half whine and bite his cheek. When they grazed over his Achilles heal and brushed down around the sides of his feet, Bakugo felt a surge of adrenaline course through him, energy he pointlessly wasted by yelling a stream of obscenities and fighting hard as he could. He’d never felt more helpless, he’d never been so tortured, he’d never felt as if he could be reduced to begging, but here he was, those sinful words dancing at the tip of his tongue, tempting him like food tempts a starved man. 

All from tickling.

Blackwhip paused and Bakugo knew it was over. His fatigue caught up moments before and he stared at Deku with wide pleading eyes. Deku drank that up like a craved cigarette. He’d gotten exactly what he wanted.

Well, almost.

“Wait! Deku, wai-”

The rest of his plea fizzled and died on his lips.

He felt it everywhere and nowhere. Tendrils raced over and under his flailing toes, some scratched right underneath and along the stems and pads, more circled and scratched the balls of his feet, playing with the plump, overly sensitive pads. Additional ones scratched just at the creases underneath the balls, which at this point hadn’t been touched and absolutely drove him up the metaphorical wall of madness and hysteria. Others stroked up and down and side to side, playing along his creamy arches, paying special attention to the spot where the heel melts into the arch, while more circled and teased his heels. Two tickled and scratched along the sides of each foot, a few, Bakugo couldn't count, even tickled the tops of his feet along with some slowly stroked up and down this claves and two stragglers unfairly burrowing into the back of his knees.

Bakugo couldn't comprehend anything except how much it fucking tickled.

His mouth was wide open in a silent scream, his eyes squeezed shut, saturated with mirthful tears. When additional tendrils started stroking and alternating between the arches and balls of his feet, a switch flipped in him. He started bouncing up and down, moving the bench slightly as he tried to lift and drop his weight, trying to use pure strength to break it or at least flip it over. Aside from a few cracks and creaks, it was silent as he wasted precious, limited energy.

More at the top and sides. Extra in between the toes. Something evil goosed his ribs.

That was all he couldn't handle.

“NOOOOOOHOHOHOHOHO! NONONONAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHA! FUUUUUCK! AHA AHAHA! AHAHHAHAH! AHAHAHAHAHAHA! STOOOOOOOOOOOP!YOU STUPID FUCKING PIECE OF MOTHERFUCKINGSHIT ILL FUCKING KIHIHIHIHLL YOUDEAAAAD! MMMGGHGHHMHMHMHMMMAAAAAH!! GOD! STAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAP!!!”

Pure, tortured belly laughter bellowed out of him like a fog horn. His laughter only evolved, turning pained and high pitched when the thing on his cock started vibrating.

“NOOO!”

The tendrils along his feet started slowing, sensually rubbing and tickling his toes. Electricity flitted through his dick, standing to attention within seconds.

Curses temporarily overwhelmed his laughter when Blackwhip wrapped around and pulled his toes back. The sweat coating Bakugo’s body created enough slip for the tendrils to wreak absolute havoc just along the undersides and stems of his toes, where the sensitive skin had been pulled and crueley exposed. Bakugo thrashed and screamed and spat and heaved, but nothing stopped it. Nothing topped it.

This time, Deku didn't edge, didn't relent, and didn't change the pace. Either Bakugo was going to cum like this, or he wasn't.

“PLEHEHEHEHEHESE! AHAHAHA! OOHGADDAMNITPLEEHEHESE!!”

“What are you begging for?” Deku inquired. Bakugo couldn't care that he was being mocked, couldn’t even take the few seconds of brain power to register or understand it.

“AAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH ST- AHAHAHA! MA-AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! FUCKFUCKFUCK I CAAAAA————”

Silence. Deku furrowed his brows and leaned forward, cupping a hand to his ear. “Hmm?”

“——————PAHA- PH- PLEHE- PLEHEHEHESE! WAHAHAH- WAIHIHIHT! NAHAHA I- I GOHOHAHAH! MMMMMMHHHHHFFFFFAAAGGHHHHH!!!”

The tickling hardly slowed as stars blurred his vision. A loud, animalistic moan burned his raw throat. He came hard, the tendrils slipping and sliding gleefully inside the wet toy.

Even after he was done, it continued for a few more seconds, prompting a loud continuous scream from him that only relented a few moments after everything truly stopped.

He collapsed, breathing so hard and deep that his chest ached.

He only knew one thing; He couldn't fucking handle this anymore.

Deku slow clapped and whistled. “Bet you never thought you could be tickled into an orgasm.”

Bakugo didn't respond, he hardly heard him. He flinched hard when the tendrils teasingly retracted from his reddened and raw feet, traveling up his trembling body once again.

Bakugo moaned. “N-no… Please…Just … please just stop.” 

Deku shook his head and beamed. “The game isn’t over yet.”

Bakugo shook his head, entirely defeated. “No more.”

Deku eyes glittered, the emerald hue glowing as though the devil himself had possessed the soul behind them. “Remember,” Tendrils slithered up to his aching ribs. Bakugo gritted his teeth and pulled his arms. Deku’s eyes crinkled. “You cant cum in the same spot twice.”

Tendrils slipped under his arms, waving and stroking like wheat in the wind.

A noise, almost like a disgruntled whine slipped out of Bakugo. “Please. Deku, please just fucking stop this.”

More tendrils. Bakugo inhaled sharply. “I-I know what I di-did wahas fucked a-”

“Is that all it took?” Deku murmured, voice low. “Hours of tickle torture for you to realize that?”

“No!” Bakugo winced as tendrils spilled down his ribs. “Damn it! I’ve known, you fucktard! I- Fuck! I just- SHIHIT! Just- FUCK! Let me goddam taHAHAlk!”

“No.” Deku put a hand up, silencing the quivering blonde. “It might come as a shock to you, but I haven’t thought about what happened in a long time.”

Tracing along the heels of his feet. Bakugo cringed.

“I’ve wanted this for a while. To torture you, and make you beg.” Tendrils slipped into the hollows behind his knees. “To make you answer for each and every horrible thing you did to me, down to every dirty look.” Tendrils teased up his spine again, causing him to lurch forward as much as he could. “I wanted to break you and make you pay. I still do.” Tendrils ghosted down his arms, teasing the skin under his biceps. “Maybe one day, I’ll let you explain it to me. But right now,” Deku stood, straightening his back. All the tendrils lifted themselves from his body, pointing their tips over their respective spots.

“It turns out, I don’t give a shit.” 

Tendrils burrowed into his underarms. As if he were being repeatedly tased with a stun gun, he convulsed and seized, immediately dissolving into loud, unrestrained guffaws. His entire being was now just a big ball of overly sensitized, ticklish nerves to which Blackwhip took full advantage of. It dug, scratched, wiggled, pinched and squeezed all over his body, the main event  taking place in his armpits. He fell into silent laughter once, twice, three times within the span of a few minutes.

He couldn't fight when the toy started vibrating, when he felt more of Blackwhip dip into the sleeve of the toy, when the tendrils ghosting and tickling his thighs pinched and traced along his ass, and when tendrils teased the newfound egregious zones on his feet. He gave in to the torture, unable to protest when the freedom he had no chance of earning burned out of him for the fourth time.

Everything stopped. His head fell in misery. 

Then snapped back up.

He felt it in his armpits, ribs, thighs, groin, feet, knees, calves, arms- everywhere. 

Every spot Deku had learned was put to merciless use. 

Bakugo’s screams echoed throughout the room, down the hall, and drifted outside, haunting the grounds like loitering ghosts.

He didn't know how long it took for him to finally pass out.

—

His eyes groggily flitted open.

It took a few minutes for his vision to fully come back to him. It took even longer for him to remember where he was. Eyes locked on the water damaged ceiling, his head felt like it had been stuffed with cotton balls. When his brain started to catch up with his body, he felt it. 

Holy shit, he ached. 

His throat felt chipped and raw, his head pounded hard at the side of his temples, his fucking ribs and stomach…

He groaned and pushed himself up, stomach muscles screaming as he held his head in his hand. One glance around the room and one more zap from his aching body confirmed that what happened to him wasn’t just a fucked up nightmare.

Catching a glimpse of something in the corner of his eye, he turned his attention to the flimsy nightstand next to his bed. Three bottles of water were placed onto it, along with some dark steaming, floral smelling liquid inside of a beige mug with a spoon sticking out of it. In front of that was a bottle of Advil, a sandwich on a small, circular paper plate, and an envelope. All neatly placed together.

Any reservations he’d possessed about eating and drinking had been thwarted long ago, so he downed the first bottle in seconds as well as half of the second before deciding to swallow three Advils along with the rest. He placed the third bottle underneath the mattress and observed the contents of the mug, deciding it was tea. He took a tentative sip, sighing when the hot liquid velveted down his sore throat, soothing it and warming his stomach. A hint of ginger left a subtle, spicy tang and he could have sworn he tasted a bit of honey. He ate his sandwich as he sipped.

He didn't want to think about who left all of this stuff here for him, much less why. As far as he knew, everyone in this fucking place had access to his room and everyone was a damn scumbag for it.

His gaze turned to the envelope. He finished the tea, pulled the lip open, and pulled out something small and rectangular, wrapped in white tissue paper. 

He tore the paper off and his stomach dropped.

“K-Kacchan? Wait, Kacchan! No! STOP! PLEASE!”

It was old and worn. It looked exactly like his.

“PLEASE!”

It was Deku’s All Might trading card.

[sleepingdeath-light]

relationship hcs ; dark cacao cookie

requested by ; anonymous (25/07/22)

fandom(s) ; cookie run

fandom masterlist(s) ; hub | specific

character(s) ; dark cacao cookie

outline ; “Would you do relationship headcanons with Dark Cacao cookie, both fluff and angst.”

warning(s) ; mild angst, but mostly fluff!

dark cacao has been through a lot in his life, plenty of ups and endless downs that led to him becoming relatively isolated in his later years — closing off his kingdom to the world and entrusting its protection and care to those beneath him (namely caramel arrow, affogato, and crunchy chip) — so being able to form a close relationship with him would be incredibly difficult if you weren’t already close before the great flour war

he tends to call you ‘dear’, ‘my love’ and just your first name — with his preference changing from moment to moment based on your location, company, and his mood (with him being much more open and affectionate around his friends and more formal around his subjects and staff)

he’s fine with limited pda depending on the company he’s with at the time — always being comfortable with kissing you on the knuckles or placing a hand on the small of your back, but when with friends he expands his range to include kissing you on the lips and allowing you to sit on his lap

he’s incredibly protective over you and insists on keeping you within his kingdom as to keep you as safe as possible — and if you insist on venturing beyond the outer walls then he’ll either accompany you himself, or send his best guards with you (even if you’re more than capable of protecting yourself, he just fears losing you and refuses to take any chances with your safety)

whilst you are, of course, his beloved and his fellow ruling monarch, you’re also his equal and his most trusted advisor — he’ll often come to you to get a second opinion or otherwise discuss matters involving the kingdom because he values your input and suggestions greatly (and he’s become more suspicious of his main advisor in recent years…)

he doesn’t talk about his son much aside from the basics (a vague description of what happened and why you’ve never met him — and likely never will), but there are times where you’ll be able to piece together more of their story — like when you wake up to him having a nightmare and he cries out in a broken voice for his son, or when you’re walking through the kingdom and a small child carrying a toy sword rushes past and you’ll see his eyes soften as his grip on your arm grows gentle (he seems younger then, less burdened and more nostalgic, but it rarely lasts as he’s soon brought back to the present and swiftly regains his usual stoic demeanour)

he makes sure that you’re always well tended to by himself and his staff — whether that’s by having all of your clothes tailored to suit your body type and status as his spouse, ensuring your favourite foods and drinks are always available in the markets, or by making sure that all of your needs are met (be that specialised mobility aids, keeping healers on staff to deal with any chronic or short term ailments, or having all your immediate staff trained in alternate forms of communication if there are periods where you are nonverbal or if you’re hard of hearing)

he is much softer and more forgiving with you than anyone else and, naturally, that means you get away with a lot more than you should: braiding or playing with his hair, getting him to wear face masks with you, using ‘silly’ pet names for him, etc. — he’s not strictly playful himself but he will indulge your playful side when you’re alone

(even if he then suffers the endless teasing of hollyberry cookie and golden cheese cookie after the fact once they figure it out — as well as the amused support of pure vanilla cookie, but he tends not to react much to their antics after knowing each other for so long)

[spidereggs888]

MIGUEL IMPREGNATES EVERYONE IN A 69 FT RADIUS!

🤰🫄🫃🕷

/j 💀

Miguel and You

Miguel O’Hara & y/n, any gender or non gender. Very casual writing style. TW Dark humor, dangerous situations, 18+. Y/n are sorta attracted to Miguel (why else would you be here?) but he doesn’t know you lol

ACT 2 | BLACK MARKET DEMONS

This has a drawing

If you haven’t read ACT 1, click this

•°《🕷》°•

You can’t remember how much time has passed or what you were doing. Those freaky eyes fade from your vision, and now you can barely see your own legs and shoes. It’s dark. Horror movie dark. You hear a scuffling sound from nearby. This so feels like a b-horror where the main character keeps surviving somehow. You hope this is the case.

“Dis shit’s useless!”

As your vision returns, you squint to the side and see someone’s back to you, crouching on the ground with a laptop. You assume it’s the guy who led you down here, but who the hell is he? And how does he know you?

You check your surroundings without moving your head too much in the hopes you’ll find a clue. You appear to be under the maintenance level of Nueva York, since there’s pipes all around the walls, all filled with the deafening roar of ocean water. This is far below your home level, down in the bottom where Nueva York was called New York. The place stinks of rot that would have made you gag if you weren’t already used to the dumpster near your apartment cube.

Through all the steam hissing you hear the familiar clinking sound of your data sticks.

“Fiddy grand here…. Four dere… not enough…”

This fucker is probing through your savings! It’s not much to him but you need it for your bills!

“Oh shock it!” He grumbles. You see his head turn, so you immediately return to your hypnotized pose. You can hear him clamber over and lean in close. His breath stinks of rationed mineral chips, food people buy when they are facing starvation. Alchemax wanted to save face in the public eye years ago, so they made those nasty mineral bars to fight starvation. You made it a point to never eat them since Speshall told you what’s in them. You feel bad for this black market demon. He’s probably also down on his luck despite his skill set.

You don’t feel sorry for him for long. He briefly presses something metal against your ear, and with a click sound he administers a sharp jab. You flinch but try to remain in a fake stupor. He rubs something against the wound, and you feel warm blood trickle down your lobe. He Sméagol-crawls away to his laptop light and you carefully squint his way again. You can’t see what he’s doing but you hear the clinking of glass.

You finally recall his voice again. He was following you after you parked your car before going in for the O’Hara interview. He must have been trying to snatch you up in broad daylight, because that’s how fast the black market demons are.

“No illnesses… a lil’ iron deficiency but dat can be overlooked…”

Oh fuckin hell, he intends to sell your organs.

You move your hands and see they are taped together. Your pants are stapled together (who the hell even does that?!) and you are stuck on your bum. You raise your gaze ahead of you and see a man in the same pose as you, except he doesn’t look well at all. In fact, there’s a dark pool at his stomach and his pants are drenched.

Holy shit!

You nope the fuck out of there and the demon hears you. He slams down his little science project and chases after you. Your pants are ripped from resisting the staples. You dash down the dark alley of tubes and pipes. He almost grabs you but he is hit with steam.

“Augh my fuckin eyes!”

You keep running. You can feel a cool breeze coming from somewhere. You have to get to the street. You have to get away. You left your data sticks behind but so what?! He’s AFTER you!

“DON’T LET ‘EM GET AWAY!” he screams.

Multiple freaky masks and eyes appear in the darkness! More demons! They are clambering out of their dwellings. You run past one of them flaying a body under a red light. You don’t stop to investigate, you keep running. The air smells even more rotten this way, a blend of ocean water and dead bodies. You keep running, your legs burning. Damn the sedimentary lifestyle of your office job. You are out of shape and trying to run for your life.

More creepypasta masks appear from the dark. You stare straight ahead. You can’t look at them. They mean to stop you. They mean to tear you apart. One grabs your scarf and you spin out of it. One grabs your jacket and you slip from the silk sleeves. Your lungs are on fire. You escape between stacks of broken monitors, shoving them behind you to slow down your assailants, but you are getting slower, too. Your path is getting wider, but also darker. There’s very little light here.

You stop at a completely dead and dark end. You can’t see anything in front of your face. You try to quiet your ragged breaths. You can hear the demons getting closer, but if you run more, you risk crashing into something you can't see.

“Turn around!” the demon demands.

You do nothing except stare bug-eyed into the darkness.

“Turn AROUND! Are ya deaf?!”

The vast darkness is barely illuminated by all the masks that strobe behind you. You can see a ledge before you, with nothing visible down below. What a drop off!

“LOOK AT ME!”

He grabs your shoulder and turns you to face him. He’s even closer now, his weird eyes pulsating black and white.

“Das right… look into my eyes…”

You feel your senses numb again. Your mind goes foggy. Maybe it was better to jump than face the horrors of the demons who will tear you apart. Then you hear someone else moving in the dark.

“Found you.”

Your demon is grabbed by the neck. Near him a whole illuminated bodysuit of a man materializes from the darkness. Bright red designs light up his massive chest and shoulders, and his mask has abstract eye marks that emote into a scowl as he tightens his grip on the demon’s neck. You feel as if you are trapped in the deep ocean where no light reaches the floor and you are witnessing one of its denizens about to be devoured by an even bigger one.

A giant red palm pushes you away onto the ground. You crumple down and watch the demon being raised off his feet like a rag. He is gasping for air and thrashing his pathetic legs around.

“You guys wanna see something?”

The mask of the larger man vanishes, but you can’t see many features with the strobe light of the demon’s copypasta mask. What you can make out are a set of terrifying fangs, a gaping maw opening unnaturally wide at the demon who makes a strangled shriek. You hear a nasty chomp sound, like someone taking a bite into a roll of hamburger meat! The demon kicks his legs helplessly, which looks even more horrible in the strobe light. The other demons bolt, and you instinctively lay down as they dash around you for their own escape. You try to ignore the icky gasping sounds. You hear a low, deep chested hum of satisfaction from the bigger predator. You try not to look, but you hear no more sputtering and kicking.

It’s over. The attack is over and the demon is not moving. Even his mask’s light dims in defeat. You close your eyes, unsure of what to expect next. All you know is that you do not want to be the center of attention. Your eyes snap open when you hear the demon's body fall to the ground.

“Lyla, scan the body.”

“He’s alive. The venom is doing its work.”

“And the other one?”

“Also alive. Probably still under the effects of the hypnosis.”

“That should wear off soon. We need to get back to the surface.”

“Affirmative! I’ll map out the quickest route!”

No fucking way. Accent and everything, even down to having an AI helper named LYLA. If WTF was a sensation, you would be feeling it now.

The black market demon is dragged away. You raise your head and see the large fellow wrapping the demon up in a bright red web. No fucking way is this happening! He’s rolling this guy around and around like a dead fly. There is no other person this could also be!

This man, Miguel O’Hara, has been moonlighting as the illusive vigilante Spider-Man!

You should really be more discreet with your spying but you can’t help it! Spider-Man stands upright, his whole suit fully illuminated with tech not yet known to the public. Dark blue and bright red, the patterns akin to the original Spider-Man who lived a hundred decades or so ago, except more minimalist to match the 22nd century aesthetic with a touch of ancient Mexican design. His mask re-materializes but you didn’t need to see his face to know who he was, there’s too much personal evidence to be mistaken. He stands proudly at 6’9” feet, like a beacon in the darkness. Then you hear a weird gurgle coming from him and he doubles over.

“Eugh!”

“I told you they added cream again. Why did you drink it anyway?”

“I was in a hurry.”

“Haste makes waste! You ended up spending an hour in the bathroom, which canceled your SM society meeting.”

“Not everyone was there anyway- Dios Mio I think I’m dehydrated…”

He groans then comes over to you and grabs your bound hands. With surgical precision he scratches off the tape with claw-like protrusions from his fingertips. You don’t move. The last thing you need is for him to know that you know him. You don’t know what to do with this information right now, it’s too much!

You are lifted off the floor with ease. You keep your eyes closed but wish you could see what’s going on. He cradles you in his giant arms and you assume he must be checking you over. It’s like being hugged by a couch.

“A scratch on the ear… no severe damage.”

You hear a small sound of indifference in his throat before you are rolled around in webbing, round and round like a burrito.

He slings you and the demon onto his shoulder like a couple of grocery bags, and you come cheek to cheek with your attacker. You scowl at his stupid face. His creepy eyes are all crossed and his jaw is slacked with his tongue poking out, so you turn your head away discreetly. Your savior walks a bit, jostling his luggage around to get comfortable before lunging straight up.

You can hear screaming from below. The demons didn’t run away out of fear; they fell back for reinforcements. You peek down and see their hypnotic faces flashing up like angry ghosts from outer space. As you and your company ascend higher, projectiles fly up, nearly hitting you in the head.

“Over twenty black market demons are on your tail,” Lyla announces.

“Got it.”

Spider-Man throws you and the demon straight up and you let out a yelp. The world is spinning out of control and you try not to feel sick. This must be what it’s like to be a shirt shot out of a t-shirt cannon. You are at the mercy of the bright red web pinning your arms to your sides as you fall back down to earth like a corn. You catch a glimpse of what’s going on below and see red streaks of lights. Demons are being flung all over the place, their projectiles not fast or strong enough to stop this even bigger monster from tearing through them.

Gravity is merciless, but before you can land anywhere more red webs fly at you from the dark, snagging you and your company on a light pole. You look down and see some of the demons below trying to reach you, scaling the light pole with crackhead energy. There is a loud ringing sound and the pole vibrates for a split second, making your teeth rattle.

The light pole shifts, cut in half like paper by something red moving lighting fast. The demons screech to each other (something about getting the hell out of there), and you are too stunned to scream for help as the whole metal pole is now falling. [Do you know how freakin big metal light poles are? Just walk up to one, they are actually ginormous. Blew my goddamn mind.]

The pole crashes down and gets stuck across two large machines, the top end jammed into the massive machinery. The webbing took all the shock of the fall, so you and the demon are dangling like a pair of converses on a telephone wire. You jerk your head around as the demons come crawling like ants, their pursuit hindered by the violent shaking of the metal pole. One flings herself close and grabs you by the head, and you lock eyes with her freaky face. She got mouths where her eyes should be!

The she-demon is knocked away with a nasty slap sound, ragdolling away into the vast darkness.

“-- Yiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii—------”

Your hero is slapping the demons around, just pimp-slapping them all over the place.

“¡ESTUPIDO!”

*THWACK*

“¡PENDEJO!”

*SLAP*

“¡VETA A CASA CON MAMA!”

*POW*

“BYE BITCH!”

*SLAP*

(that last one had their whole mask slapped off. Contacts went flying, too.)

The demons get the hint and refuse to be humiliated further. They scatter off in the dark, and you can hear cursing and swearing as they go back to their deep dark dwellings.

“THAT’S RIGHT! ¡LARGATE, FUCKERS!”

He crouches on the metal light pole with great balance and listens as the demon squalling grows distant. He huffs with satisfaction.

“Shocking idiots…”

Spider-Man crawls his way across the shaky pole and retrieves his spider sacks with people in them. He leaps off as the machine finally rips through the pole, sending it falling all the way down into the darkness. Spider-Man listens to it hit the bottom.

“Okay, we leavin’ this ass-crack of the city for real this time.”

“A few of those people are critically injured,” Lyla reports, “I saw someone’s eye pop out.”

“Well I guess someone’s gotta keep an eye out, right?”

You always heard OG Spider-Man was a notorious wise-cracker, but this guy goes a little darker with his brand of humor. He was right about one thing.

Fuck those guys.

•°《🕷》°•

You and the demon are plopped down on the ledge of a building.

"Alright, time to put you back where you came from. And I'll just leave ugly here-," he says, hanging the black market demon upright on some wrought iron decor, "Even if he wakes up and frees himself, he'll still be stuck on this roof... unless he decides to jump off... then Godspeed, heh heh."

He takes you into a one arm embrace and scales down the side of your apartment using his web as a cord. Your face is being mushed into one of those monster pecs of his, and you try not to protest the fact that you can't breathe well. You hear a crash of glass.

“Yeah, your foot just went through a window,” Lyla announces.

"Ah shock... I'll pay for that sometime. This must be the bedroom."

He kicks in the rest of the window and deftly slides indoors, holding you against his waist. You barely open your eyes and see, by the arrangement of LED lights, you are home in your one-room studio apartment. He plops you down on your bed and rips off the red webbing.

“Yeah, you are in for a throbbing headache tomorrow,” Spider-Man says, keeping his voice low.

You are still pretending to be asleep as you hear him poke around at your stuff. You can hear your apartment hub terminal activate. You wonder what he’s doing messing with that.

“I’ve ordered nausea and pain relief to be delivered to this address,” Lyla confirms.

“Good. Those visual-hypnotic masks do some nasty damage. They need to get booted from the black market somehow. You got any ID on cara de moco?”

“Jeff Landers. Lost his apartment in Queens. Pretty much plinko’ed all the way down.”

“Ah, uh huh.”

“His last known location was in the Thor Memorial Housing,” Lyla continues, “his caseworker was the last person to see him.”

“Little did they know he’d go from praising Thor to harvesting organs,” he says, a little amusedly.

“He had a bad history of abuse from his father and lived in poverty. Can you really blame him?”

You hear Spider-Man walk near the foot of your bed. There’s a pause.

“I do blame him,” he finally concludes, “you can have the worst upbringing but still try to be a decent person. His shitty life doesn’t warrant torturing other people. He coulda been more like this one here, doing everything within reason to get by while still being a good person…”

He means you.

“Whelp, time to go torture that dummy. Gotta find out where he got that stupid mask.”

You can hear him stepping over your things and slipping out of the broken window. As soon as he leaves, you spring up and run to the window. You watch this giant man scale up from below. You didn’t mean to or expect it but get a direct buckshot of his backside for a moment [Why the heck is his suit so TIGHT? WHY?! You never seen a crotch so sculpted like that, what the fuck. Do he know this?! Is he aware he looks practically naked?! It’s like his suit is painted on- ]

He jumps from your apartment to the adjacent building where he left the black market demon. There’s no mistake of who he is, especially with that body, but now he’s gone and you are left to pick up the pieces both literally and figuratively. Now what the hell are you gonna do?! Your phone and your lanyard of data sticks (basically your wallet) are still down in hell with the other demons!

There’s no time to lose. You must cancel all your credit cards and change the passwords on every account you own, because it’s not like those demons are gonna pay your bills for you!

Turning on your computer interface in the wall, you video-call your landlord. The only thing you can really explain to him is that you busted the window when you were moving furniture around. He’d never believe Spider-Man kicked it in. You find that Spider-Man is cool in more ways than just looks, your landlord thanks you for a forwarded payment with the attached note sorry about the window.

After allowing him 10 minutes to lecture you with no interruptions other than a nod or sound of agreement, you close the video with him, then begin the long hunt down of all your credit and banking connections. You use your email to recall every important account. You even find some that are out of service and close them down. It’s a humbling experience, but not in the same way as being kidnapped by that black market demon. You feel like you are dissecting your life choices, reviewing things you hadn’t thought of in a long time. You unsubscribe from the health newsletters you don’t even read anymore. You delete the emails you swore you were gonna read later. All of it, fuck it, throw it in the trash. Guilt chain letters be damned, they will have to get their money from someone else, because you won’t ever be rich enough to become a philanthropist.

You are satisfied to some degree. You look out the window Spider-Man left through. Even though he met you as Miguel O’Hara, how did he find you? How did he know you were in trouble? You’ll have plenty of time to think of that in the shower, since you smell like sea water and dead skin particles.

.°˖✧🖫✧˖°.

The next morning, you reactivate your old phone after your mother sent you some money. She’s always offered, and every time you refused, but this time you didn’t need to be spending all of what you have left. You send her a text thanking her and promising to pay her back. Afterwards, you open a video chat with Speshall.

“Hey!”

“Sup, poser?!” She sings back. You were always caught off guard by her humor, but you needed that shit today.

“I had the most fucked up day, yesterday!”

You spend the next thirty minutes telling her what happened. She laughs, she screeches, she squawks, and she groans. Then you get to the horrible parts with the black market demon, then the larger-than-life rescue from Spider-Man.

“He musta been spying on their asses or something”, she says, “how else could he know you were in danger?!”

That is a pretty good question. It must have everything to do with his identity as O’Hara. You both exchanged information, after all. Maybe he was tracing your phone? But no, you decide not to tell her about this, about the possible correlation between Spider-Man and O’Hara.

“No idea but I’m glad he showed up.”

“Yeah, maybe you were in the right place at the right time or whatever. Hey, what do you have planned for dinner? My boyfriend flaked, maybe you can come over later. Hang on, I gotta make sure he’s really not coming tonight-“

Her voice drowns out as your mind shifts to thoughts of O’Hara. Did he remember who you were? He must have, right? Maybe he will also take pity and hire you, now that he’s seen your pitiful house. And what’s more, what if you become some kind of keeper for him?! Maybe knowing who he really is might be a kind of bargaining chip for getting hired? No, that’s something Brody would do, the goon. No, Miguel O’Hara’s secret identity is good as safe. Besides, he thinks you are a good person! You need to keep being that. You feel glad to have covered for him.

“Hey, did you hear me?”

“Huh?”

“I sent you some money! Check your email!”

“Oh!”

You open your inbox and see a few new notifications. Money from Speshall, a newsletter from Maglev Motors that you kept the subscription to, and an email from Alchemax Business Bureau. You click on that first, it might be important.

Employee 2232

By request of the CEO of our parent company, you are no longer scheduled for the meeting in the major temp office of Alchemax Business Bureau. We apologize for any inconveniences this may cause and wish for the best in your future endeavors in your department. This is by no means a termination to your current occupation. Thank you for your time.

— Management

“Oh no no NO!”

“What is it? Did the money not go through?!”

You sit back and put your hands on your head.

“O’Hara just canceled the meeting!”

__________________________________________

Next: ACT 3 | INTERVIEW WITH THE VAMPIRE