#illegal life pro tip
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Guide on how to jailbreak any paid laundry machines. Don't do this cuz I don't endorse crimes. This is very similar to landlords!! they provide an essential service and so I'd never ever promote stealing from them. Also there are usually cameras around so you'd have to make sure you wouldn't get caught.
https://launfree.neocities.org/
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Pro tip lifehack;
Don’t wiggle other peoples teeth!
Follow for more pro tip lifehacks😎
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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.
#bnha tickle#tickle fic#t word community#tickle community#tickle blog#lee!bakugou#sallage-mha#ticklish!bakugou#mha tickle#lee!bakugo#Ler!Midoriya#Ler!Deku#ticklish!bakugo
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Do you have any tips for people who want to get into cosplay? It both sounds and looks really interesting but I’m too nervous to try/start.
First off:
Don't worry about the acting part, it's less stressful than it really seems, and I'm saying this as somebody who suffers from anxiety since his teen ages and had an history of pretty frequent anxiety attacks. I started cosplaying in the year 2014, made my proper first "heavy duty" cosplay in 2016.
But do keep in mind, cosplaying comes with its ups and downs and I won't sugar-coat things, so I'll start with them.
Pros
RP in real life is very fun.
You'll probably be stopped by a lot of people if your cosplay is easily recognizable, so be ready. Pictures. A lot of pictures. Which seems a bit awkward but it's often pretty wholesome.
Interacting with other cosplayers (without bothering busy people) is fun.
Going with a buddy definitely makes the experience a lot better. D&D party irl with weaponized autism
Meet new people! Sometimes.
Do fun activities! You can even swordfight your friends and other random cosplayers in small arenas sometimes. FIGHT THE GENSHIN COSPLAYER WITH A FOAM AXE ANON
You can win a Tekken tournament with a full rotting rabbit animatronic costume on!
There is at least one Dance Dance Revolution machine. I don't need to say more.
Cons
Cosplaying is often expensive. You can cosplay on a budget but it comes with lots of in-place reparations.
Bring water and food with you. Drink. A lot. Especially if you have a full armor or a monster fullsuit. You could literally die from exhaustion and/or from overheating.
People are gonna probably take pictures of you without asking. Yell at them with rage because that's illegal
Awkward interactions do happen. Yours truly had to scold a child and her mother at the age of 16 because I was resting my cosplay head next to me (Springtrap cosplay) and the child was trying to pop the eyes of MY cosplay head while I was talking to my friends.
Bring a reparation kit. A little sewing kit, some strong glue, hot glue gun, a piece of cloth you don't have a problem using to keep things in place with, make-up wipes and the make-up you are using as well, if you have any on. That and an emergency kit with bandages and band-aids. Shit can happen.
You are gonna sweat. A lot. Take breaks.
If you have something like a helmet on you are gonna have blind spots. You are probably not gonna hear nor see people calling you sometimes lol
Conventions are expensive. But that's not a cosplay-only thing, keep that in mind tho.
People often forget you are a person outside of the character you are cosplaying as. Which could be both a pro and a con honestly.
Now, I'm not nor a woman nor feminine presenting, but if you are one of the two...gamers are fucking weird sometimes, so be prepared in case.
The actual making the cosplay part:
Do your research on the kind of cosplay you want to do. A partial armor? A full armor? Clothing/make-up? A full monster/animal suit? YouTube is full of good tutorials. Techniques are universal for any typology of cosplay, so don't worry.
If you need cosplay parts you don't know how to make, just look up for "pepakura template *insert thing*". Download a program called "Pepakura viewer" on your PC and look up for Pepakura tutorials if you need any help, there are plenty. You'll probably find templates for the specific part, maybe for free, but mostly for like 10-20 bucks on Etsy. You can also just straight up buy props. Keep in mind 3D printed props can be very fragile tho.
You don't need to make every single part, buy premade things if needed. Hell, you can even just buy a premade cosplay from a seller, doesn't matter.
Improvising is important to find solutions to cosplay making problems. Any technique is a valid technique if it works for you...but please, for the love of everything that is good, DON'T. USE. CARDBOARD. It's gonna absorb your sweat, get moldy and the fumes from the mold CAN KILL YOU. Not joking.
Important: buy a mask with interchangeable filters and safety glasses when you use paints. Also, wear gloves. Your health comes first.
If you are making an helmet...buy at least 2 small fans and install them inside vents below or next to the visor inside the helmet. Believe me when I say this. They do sell ones with premade circuits on Etsy, if you are not particularly good with wiring and stuff.
AliExpress is unironically good for supplies, if you don't want to spend too much.
Sewing and using strong glues makes things last for ages, hot glue does not and it sucks, as much as people use it. Use safety equipment while using glues, of course.
Again, YouTube is your friend in this case. Search for anything you'll need help for.
...you should probably look up at reviews if you plan on buying anything from sites like XCoser.
That's it!
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Imagine | ProHero!Bakugou x Villain!Reader #3
Summary: your sides on the field doesn't waver your loyalties to each other
a/n: i haven't posted any fics in a hot minute so i'll just.. yeah.
🌟
You don't even bother looking up when you heard your front door being unlocked, having gotten the heads up from the distinct way your bestfriend fucking stomps all throughout the hallway before he reached the door to your apartment.
"Oi. I haven't seen you in awhile."
"Mm. I've got a big mission to plan for," you mumbled distractedly, going over the newest tips your informant sent in.
Bakugou gave you a once over before walking over to nudge you aside from your laptop, save the document you were working on and promptly shutting it. "Hey-"
"Ass in the kitchen. Now," he all but demanded you, with an underlying threatening glint in his eyes. How dare he. In your own home too. You scoffed at the absolute gall of this man but begrudgingly shuffled after him anyways.
"You look like shit," He snarked as if your exhaustion was the greatest inconvenience in his life. "Stayed home the past 3 weeks and you didn't have time to look after yourself?"
"Its a big mission, Katsu," you clarified, as you slid into a seat at your little kitchen counter, resting your chin onto the palm your hand, watching your bestfriend squirrel around the kitchen with familiar ease.
"Could've asked me for help," he said, not sparing you a glance as he dug your drawers for forks. You raised an inquiring eyebrow at that.
"Its for work, Katsu."
"And?" The bastard popped a pink mochi- your last pink mochi- left on the defenseless countertop into his mouth, chewing loudly. You felt your eye twitch. How dare.
"My villain work?"
"I am aware," he deadpanned.
You couldn't help but huff fondly at that, taking the box of takeout he offered your direction. You smiled at the sight of your favourite order. He even got you that cream cheese crossoint you loved so much even though he says the price is a crime all on its own. You'll forgive him for the mochi theft. Just this once.
"I'm planning to take down some pretty big names, you know?" You started, snapping your chopsticks to mix your food idly, before raising your gaze to meet his. "Dead or alive."
Red eyes held yours.
"My statement still stands."
You stared at each other for a moment, unwavering, both unwilling to back down from where you stood. Eventually, you conceded first.
"Katsu, you're the number one pro hero in Japan. You can't get caught being associated with a villain. Much less actively help me out with the illegal stuff."
"Who said anything about getting caught? I'm not number one for no reason."
You had to huff a laugh at that. "I doubt the reason is to help a villain though, Ground Zero."
"I'm helping you, dumbass."
You blinked at that, before tilting your head, confused.
"That doesn't change anything? I am a villain." Katsuki rolled his eyes like you were the being so fucking stupid.
"Are you now?"
"Yes? Wh-" you tripped over your own words, apalled at what Bakugou was trying to say. "I am. I'm villain Red. Top 5 most wanted villains in Musutafu. Succeeded in evading three top 10 Pro Hero during the biggest heist in Musutafu in the last decade. Responsible for the serial assasination of multiple big named Pros and political figures. Do I need to go on?"
"Yeah, yeah, no need to read me your entire evil resume-"
"ExcUse mE-"
"It doesn't matter," your bestfriend said with such finality, his eyes blazing with an intensity that made your jaw clicked shut. "You're still that snot-nosed brat I promised to watch her back because her situational awareness is shit."
"First of all. We were 8, Katsu. Secondly, rude. I've gotten way better and you know it."
"You're also the same Y/n that cried herself into a panic attack because you couldn't save that kid, even when it wasn't your fault. The same Y/n who has standards even when it comes to crime and isn't afraid to make it known to the rest of the world, good and bad. You may be gray but I know for a fact your victims aren't as sporadic as you make them seem. You're not the big, bad villain you let the world see. I know that."
You had to huff out a ghost of a laugh at that. Of course the great Ground Zero saw through your facade as a feral assasin with body counts piling up faster than
"Your point?"
"I trust you." with my everything went unsaid, but you heard it all the same. Clear as the day. You couldn't help but falter, any protests or arguments ready to slip of your tongue dissolving into exasperated fondness you had for this stupid blonde in front of you.
"..Thanks, Katsu."
You knew if he ever asked for help for his side of the job, you wouldn't hesitate for a second. It was a risk you're willing to take, every time, if it meant keeping your best friend alive. Sometimes it was hard to believe that this devotion went both ways.
"Ok. Now that we all that gross mushy stuff aside," Bakugou started, making you laugh. "Who are we killing?" And there goes the moment, you sighed, rolling your eyes.
"Katsu, I swear. You need to turn down the condoning crime thing. You're making me nervous."
"Tsk. And to think you were just bragging about being the top 5 wanted villains-"
"I can still make it to top three if I kill you now, you know. So, shut it, Ground Zero," you growled, only to bristle even further at the feral grin that spread over your bestfriend's face.
"There's the big scary villain-"
"I will throw you out the fucking window don't TEMPT me-"
🌟
a/n: i have a bunch of unfinished drafts that i might just post as is and call em drabbles bc CLEARLY. they're not gonna be finished anytime soon :')
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SUPPORT STARBUCKS UNIONS
Upton Sinclair tries to go up to the counter, but the Starbucks is closed. Starbucks fired all their workers from this location for unionizing.
Hi everyone! It’s been a while. We here at Literary Starbucks have followed the news about Starbucks workers’ fight to unionize, and we want to use the platform we have to support them and uplift their voices.
Starbucks workers across the nation have been unionizing their workplaces to ensure a more democratic, safe, and equitable environment for all employees. The first United States Starbucks to successfully unionize its workers was in Buffalo, NY, in December 2021. Since then, more Starbucks locations all over the country have voted to unionize!
Predictably, Starbucks is not thrilled about this, and has been actively union-busting. As linked above in the Upton Sinclair post, there are many examples of Starbucks closing locations that voted to unionize or firing pro-union workers, but Starbucks has gone even further. They have cut hours for pro-union employees, increased managerial presence in stores in order to monitor union activities, and, recently and abhorrently, claimed that Starbucks will support its workers who are seeking abortion services—but only if they aren’t part of a union.
The National Labor Relations Board (NLRB) has “accused Starbucks of more than 200 labor law violations spanning over two dozen types of unfair labor practices.” In addition to being morally despicable, Starbucks’ union-busting practices are actually illegal.
Literary Starbucks supports workers’ right to unionize and stands with the Starbucks partners who are unionized and/or fighting to unionize. We condemn Starbucks’ anti-union position.
To read more about Starbucks employees’ efforts to unionize, please check out Starbucks Workers United. Headquartered in Buffalo, NY, SB Workers United boasts 180+ stores unionized already. Check out their FAQ for more information!
Here are ways you can support Starbucks workers’ unionization efforts across the USA:
Donate to the Pacific Northwest Starbucks Workers United (PNWSBWU) to, in their own words, “provide financial relief to Starbucks workers in the Pacific Northwest for income [they] lose as [they] take the collective actions needed to win the workplace [they] deserve.”
Donate to the employees of the College Ave Starbucks in Ithaca, NY, since Starbucks closed this unionized location!
Donate to Black Union Leaders in Memphis, TN, to support fired Black union leaders.
Sign the No Contract, No Coffee pledge to support the unionizing workers!
Shop the SB Workers United store! All proceeds directly support Starbucks employees.
SUPPORT STRIKERS! For example, a location in Buffalo went on strike yesterday!
Attend a local “sip-in” rally at Starbucks to support unionization efforts. Here’s an example of a call for a sip-in—check out your local Starbucks stores to see if there is one coming up near you! And make sure you tip big!
Follow SB Workers United on Instagram for the latest news and updates.
Follow SB Workers United on Twitter for the latest news and updates. We pulled most of the donation links directly from that Twitter, so that’s the best place to check to see how you can best help!
Hell, follow us on Twitter as well. We’ll be retweeting stuff from @SBWorkersUnited, @VentiSolidarity, @JortstheCat, and other pro-union accounts to help raise awareness for Starbucks employees working to unionize.
The baristas were always an essential part of the Literary Starbucks mythos. Help support the real-life heroes working in Starbucks locations across the nation today!
In solidarity,
Jill, Nora, and Wilson
#nocontractnocoffee#literary starbucks#literarystarbucks#starbucks#pro union#union#unions#tobeapartner
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round 4 of medieval au incorrect quotes cause nobody can stop me that's why
Shoutout to @accidental-spice for giving me some of the quotes!
Ahsoka: I’m a multitasker!
Ahsoka: I can disappoint fifteen people at once.
---
Caleb: My life isn't as glamorous as my alter ego's wanted poster makes it look.
---
Adenn: Pros and cons of courting me.
Adenn: Pros. You'll be the cute one.
Adenn: Cons. Dear manda, where do I begin—
---
Ahsoka: You know what? Let’s give it a go! What’s the worst that could happen?
Korkie: Humiliation, embarrassment, fire, explosions, collisions, tears, nudity, and death.
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Caleb: Relax, I'm keeping my vigilante life and my private life totally separate.
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Merrin: I scare people a lot because I walk very softly and they don't hear me enter rooms. So when they turn around, I'm just kind of there and their fear fuels me.
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Rex: I left instructions for everyone while I'm gone.
Ahsoka: Mine just says "Ahsoka no."
Rex: I want you to apply it to every possible situation.
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Kelleran Beq: Your daughter started a food fight in the creche today.
Alrich: That’s not good.
Ursa: Well, did she win?
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Omega: Oh, dear...
Merrin: This is horrible.
Omega: I know, someone was just murdered and—
Merrin: No, it’s not that, it’s Cal.
Merrin: I can’t get him out of my head, and every time I look at them I have these pains in my chest, and I just know it’s his fault, that jerk!
---
Ahsoka: Is this a good idea?
Ahsoka: Probably not.
Ahsoka: Do I care?
Ahsoka: No.
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Cal: What’s up with Caleb? He’s been laying on the floor for like….an hour now?
Zeb: He's just a little overwhelmed.
Cal: Why?
Zeb: Hera smiled at him.
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Ai-kel: I think I mostly want to see what happens when this whole place breaks apart.
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Merrin: Is something burning?
Cal, sighing happily: Just my love for you.
Omega, swatting at flames: OUR RESEARCH NOTES ARE ON FIRE—
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Ahsoka: Oh, man. I hope that looked cool, because it REALLY hurt.
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Barriss: I only have two emotions: exhaustion and stress. And I’m somehow always feeling both simultaneously
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Caleb: What did you get on your shirt?
Ezra (age 5): Rust.
Caleb: From what?
Ezra: Weapons.
Hera: Time for more adult supervision.
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Ahsoka: Rex always shoots down my ideas and I’m sick of it. Two sentences in and he’s always shouting “are you serious? that’s illegal!” and “you can’t do that!”. Like, c'mon, let me talk!
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Cal, furious: What do you mean we have lessons tonight? I have books to read.
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Ahsoka: So, he kissed me.
Makheta: And you kissed him back?!
Ahsoka: No, I kissed his mouth!
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Caleb: I love you.
Hera: How many people have you said that to?
Caleb: Everyone.
Hera: What?
Caleb: I told everyone that I love you.
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Cal: I cannot believe I let you talk me into this.
Omega: I literally said “I have an idea,” and you just went along with it without question.
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Ahsoka: I love hearing Rex shouting at someone else. It makes such a nice change.
---
Hera: What did you get Ezra for his sixth birthday?
Sabine: I got him a kitten.
Hera: Really? Me too!
Caleb: ...I also got him a cat.
Zeb: Looks like we had the same idea.
Caleb: Luke, Leia, please tell me you didn't get Ezra a cat as well.
Leia:
Luke
Luke's pocket: *tiny meow*
*later*
Ezra, in his room surrounded by cats and kittens: This is the best birthday ever!
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Skira: Helpful grammar tip: “farther” is for physical distance, “further” is for metaphorical distance, and “father” is for emotional distance!
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Ahsoka: Be careful, I thrive on negative attention.
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Zeb, to Caleb and Hera: Woah dude, premarital hand holding? That’s just not cool or groovy.
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Cal: I'm gonna need a skull but you can't ask why.
Merrin: Only if you also don't ask why.
Merrin: *pulls four pristine skulls out of her bag*
Cal: ...
Cal, grabbing a skull: This one will do.
---
Ai-kel: I'm not funny, I'm just really mean and people think I'm joking.
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Ezra, age 12, carrying a box: What would you say if—if I, hypothetically, came home with 7 kittens one day?
Hera: …
Caleb: …
Hera: What’s in the box?
Ezra: What woul—
Caleb: Son, what’s in the box?
Ezra: I think you know.
---
Carthage: I was born for politics. I have great hair and I love lying.
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*Hera holding baby Jacen*
Zeb: Wow, I can’t believe one of us actually has one of these.
Ezra: I know! I still am one of these!
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Ketsu: Sabine, where were you last night?
Sabine, climbing in through the window: I refuse to answer that question on the grounds that I don't want to.
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Carthage: May I ask you a personal question?
Hadrian: If you have to.
Carthage: Have you ever been tested for idiocy?
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Ezra: This is horrible! This is the most humiliating thing to ever happen to me!
Sabine: Oh-? Even more humiliating than the time when Chopper stole your—
Ezra: We are not doing this!
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Carthage: We’re having a moment, aren’t we?
Sabine: If by 'a moment' you mean me not wanting to strangle you for the first time since we met, then...
Sabine: Still no.
---
Ezra: I’m gonna die alone.
Leia, rolling her eyes: Ezra, you’re not gonna die alone.
Ezra: Sabine and I were each other's if-we-don't-find-anyone-else backup plans, okay? But she got betrothed and now I have to get more cats.
Luke: Uh-huh. Why is that?
Ezra: If I’m gonna be an old lonely person, I’m gonna need a thing, you know?
Ezra: So I figured I’ll be “Crazy Man With The Cats”, you know? Crazy Cat man.
Ezra: Then I’ll get even more cats, call them my babies. Kids won’t walk past my place, they will run! RUN AWAY FROM CRAZY CAT MAN!
Leia:
Luke:
Leia, to Luke: We have to prevent this at all costs
---
Sabine: A fistfight CAN be romantic.
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Sabine: I’m in love with you.
Ezra: We called off the prank war last night at midnight, remember?
Sabine: I know.
Ezra: Ah. Okay. Um. Cool. Neat. Very cool. Cool. Cool. Coolcoolcool—
---
Carthage: You tricked me!
Sabine: I deceived you. ‘Trick’ makes it sound like we have a friendly relationship.
---
Ezra, hugging the feral wolf in the menagerie: Every zoo is a petting zoo unless you’re a coward.
Sabine: I’m worried about you.
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mistake: What's the worst mistake your OC ever made? What led to them making it? Have they been able to fix it? How have they moved on?
hide: What does your OC hide? Why do they hide it?
For Hélianthe? 🙏
From this ask game ! :)
Okay funnily enough you picked two questions that straight up give you a plot summary of like, half of the book.
Mistake : What's the worst mistake your OC ever made ? What led to them making it ? Have they been able to fix it ? How have they moved on ?
Not checking if it was legal for him to be in Eshda (his assumption is that it is. Legal to exist. In life. As a normal person would assume !), and being incredibly careless, one might even say sloppy, when deciding to just destroy an entire village for the hell of it (and filling a bunch of bottles with blood to have some advance before needing to kill people next time, but that's not really a long-term thing).
In general, the fact that he didn't imagine he'd stay in Eshda for very long, and just assuming he could leave and get away with whatever the fuck he was up to, combined with his general inability to plan for the far future, led him to be pretty fucking stupid. Pro tip, don't murder a little under 100 people if you don't want the rest of the duchy to be suspicious that there might be magic afoot.
He didn't "fix" much, he's been hiding it. Sweeping it under the rug. He's having A Time doing it. Which brings us to our next question --
Hide : What does your OC hide ? Why do they hide it ?
--three things.
One : The massacre.
Two : The fact that he's a vampire.
Three : The fact that he's a mage.
These two things will straight up get him killed. The first one for justice, the second one because being a vampire is illegal in Eshda, the third one because being a mage without a license is also illegal in Eshda and WILL be an aggravating factor for the two other crimes.
So he wants to not die, and Atropa gave him the possible solution of committing identity theft about it, and he's been doing that. For most of the book. It's very fun ! The narration uses his real name to refer to him while everyone else (except Atropa when they're alone) calls him Nielle, which is the fake identity.
#ask games#thanks for the ask ! :D#hélianthe et atropa#hélianthe#as much as he's around 220ish years old#i do believe this is the worst mistake he's ever made#and that's counting the murders back when he was a teenager#and also the ones while he lived in Forge#because at LEAST he didn't GET CAUGHT back then#so he had less consequences for his actions !
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blorbology resources:
follow up to this, under the cut
my tutorial how to get images from the nhl website in 4k (you can do the same thing w lots of other websites esp news sites, you can kinda reverse engineer it if you have a basic understanding of how it works but i can try do a full explainer if ppl want? it varies site to site on how to do it so its kind of hard to explain you just kind of have to play around with it)
paywall bypass for chrome, firefox
ios shortcuts for downloading hq content from instagram, twitter, youtube ... pls do this instead of screenshotting/screen recording which will badly degrade the quality.. also my fav thing about these is you can set it so it saves the date to be when it was posted, not when you downloaded, and the account is in the file name for easy reference purposes. you will need the (free) apps scriptable and a-shell mini
download livestreams (and more, including nhl website videos) with hls loader
(feb 2024 edit: i no longer can recommend this bc it doesn’t work anymore 🥲) 🏴☠️ dl stock images (g*tty etc.) choose the 3k option, this works the best of all the sites ive found
t*rrent games 🏴☠️🏒 site 1, site 2 (disclaimer use a vpn dont be an idiot if youve never done this before pls follow a tutorial or something. also just use google translate for the russian LMAO)
a pro tip also is to search your blorbo/team/etc places other than google/youtube, like vimeo (this is where the cream of the crop content is hiding, i search nhl on vimeo every few days), photo websites like flickr, vsco, etc. really try to think outside the box with this! for example u can search inside books with the internet archive/google books. i found jack was randomly featured in a book about sidney crosby this way.
learn to use google and twitter etc search tools so you can filter through searches easily. this is more useful the more common of a name your blorbo has, and unfortunately for hockey there is many a tyler.
these are all varying degrees of copyright infringement so do at your own risk etc etc mr. bettman if u see this i have never done anything illegal in my life i dont know what piracy is and am making this post for nonprofit media archival purposes!!!
#i hope this was helpful#anon who asked (or anyone else) if you want something different pls lmk#i feel like i’m bad at explaining things 😭😭
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A Really Bad Idea 4
Pairing: Fighter!Howie Stark x Writer!Reader
Warnings: Lies, secrets, cheating, scandal, criminal history, spice, obsessed Fangirl, violence, anger, and honestly no idea cause I’m not finished writing this just yet.
There is no such thing as an instant spark.
In books, sure. Real life? Not so much.
Till I met the perfect stranger.
It honestly was a case of mistaken identity in my own panicked state. I didn’t mean to grab a strangers hand. I just needed to avoid my ex and his shiny new fiancee. I never planned on the stranger kissing me.
I sure as hell didn’t plan for the stranger to by my friends brother. It never was in the cards for me to find someone else after what my ex did to me. Especially a Fighter with a closed off past. I’m struggling to write my book and move on with my life, but what do I do when he comes in and starts changing things for me.
But the thing my ex taught me people aren’t who they say they are, what if Howie isn’t who he says he is?
He couldn’t help but stare. What the hell were the chances, that the gorgeous stranger he kissed, was friends with his brother. That he just happened to find her again. He spent the whole week and weekend thinking about her and the kiss they shared.
He isn’t dwelling hard on the guy, Sam, sitting next to her. He didn’t mind a little competition. It kept things interesting. But when her attention slips from him to Sam, an uneasy, unsettling feeling grows in his chest. He doesn’t like it, it makes his back teeth grind.
“Howie,” Bucky chuckles, setting down his beer. “how was your fight, it was this weekend, right?” His head comes up, nodding as he takes a drink himself. Her head whirls, eyes focused on him.
“Yeah. Won.” He nods. Peter laughs.
“The fuck detail is that? He won with a stone cold knock out in the second round.” Peter brags for him. He pulls his bottom lip in, nodding.
“It’s true.” He smirks.
“Damn man!” Buck high fives him over the table. “Sorry we missed it.”
“You’re a fighter?” Something dances in her eyes. Something like excitement, perhaps curiosity.
“I am.” He smiles at her.
“No shit?” She grins. “How did you get into that?” He has her sole focus.
“Underground fighting is illegal.” He laughs. Bucky and Peter laugh as well.
“Wait, what?” She looks between them.
“That’s how we know each other.” Buck points a fry between the two of them.
“He picked me up.” Howie nods. “It’s how I know Clint. I actually train with him and Pietro.” Howie explains.
“That’s my twin brother.” Wanda grins.
“You’re a twin?” Sam looks over at her. She nods, they slip into their own conversation.
“You got arrested by Clint and Bucky?” She laughs.
“No, just picked up. This fight got raided, I bailed out the side exit. Made it about a block away, and dumb and dumber pull up.” He smirks, jutting his chin towards Bucky.
“Clint offered you a chance.” She nods.
“He did. Turns out it’s one of the best choices I’ve made.” He admits.
“One of?” She lifts a brow.
“One of.” He smirks at her.
“Huh.” She sips her drink.
“What?”
“You’re not like what I thought most fighters are.” Her head tips.
“What, not an angry, meathead?” He laughs.
“Pretty much.” She pops a shoulder.
“Howie is not like most of them.” Peter snorts.
“Explain.” She nods.
“He doesn’t date.” Gwen snorts.
“He’s never angry.” Peter shrugs.
“I have an IQ in Einstein’s territory.” He nods.
“The fuck you do.” She gaps.
“He’s two points higher than me.” Peter sighs, with distaste.
“Of all the mundane shit you say Peter Stark. Of all the boring ass bullshit you tell us. You didn’t think maybe mentioning how you have a pro fighter brother with a IQ higher than yours?” She scoffs at Peter.
“It’s not that much higher than mine.” Peter mumbles.
“Of all the stupid shit you’ve said to me, this isn’t one of them?” She blinks at him.
“You’re mean.” Peter smirks at her.
“She’s fucking evil.” Gwen pouts.
“You’re just mad cause I haven’t written the last book.” Y/N rolls her eyes.
“It’s been four months and you don’t even have chapter one!” Gwen throws a fry at her. “That’s cruel, how you ended the last one.” Y/N laughs, popping the fry into her mouth.
“Do you have writers block?” Sam looks over.
“I don’t know. I think so.” They drift into a conversation and that feeling comes right back.
“What’s the book supposed to be about?” He asks, shifting to give her his full attention. She sighs, but there’s a smile on her lips as she shifts to face him. Her back practically to Sam.
“Okay, so it’s an intertwined series. So, each book is a different set of characters, but they all play parts in each book. So, like they each have a POV from each of the characters at one point.” She explains.
“Okay, so you see each story from more than the two main characters.” He nods.
“Yes. Not the whole thing but every so often. So, at the end of the last book I put out. The last chapter is of the only character left. She’s the only single one, and she meets a stranger. That’s literally where I ended it.” She nods.
“You just ended it like that. She meets a stranger?” He lifts a brow.
“Okay, the problems from each book, all connect the characters and their books. She’s got her own problems, a nasty break up. Her friends all have their issues. She’s sitting in a bar, and this stranger sits down next to her.” She nods.
“That’s actually how she ends it.” Nat points out.
“I hate you a little and I have no idea what happened in the previous books.” He laughs.
“So literally he sits down, they do the whole eyes connect. He asks if he can buy her a drink. Boom end.” She nods.
“What are your plans for the next one?” He asks, genuinely interested.
“Nothing.” She presses her lips together.
“What?”
“I wrote it. It was this amazing path I was on. But I honestly have no idea who this guy is. Which makes writing the next book twice as hard. I want him to be this piece she didn’t know she was missing. All the conflicts are coming to a head in this book and I want to throw in their own. But I don’t have a clue who he is.” She runs a hand through her hair.
“You’re single.” Nat shrugs.
“I am?” She sasses.
“Fuck off.” Nat laughs. “I was going to say maybe you should try meeting a stranger in a bar. You know see if you can get into the mindset.” She shrugs.
“Meet a stranger.” Howie nods, a small smile on his lips. She’s turning pink in the cheeks.
“There is no saying it would even help me at this point.” She struggles with a smile.
“Do you two know each other?” Bucky watches them.
“Huh?” They both look over, fighting grins.
#Marvel#OC!Howie Stark x Reader#Avengers#OC!Howie x Reader#A Really Bad Idea#Marvel Fanfiction#OC!Howie Stark Series#Avengers Fanfiction#OC!Howie Series
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Dr. Ruth Barnett
Dr. Ruth Barnett was an abortionist in Portland Oregon from 1918-1968.
At 16 she became pregnant, the boy who got her pregnant wasn't going to help: "He was not to blame, he said... 'You got yourself that way, now get yourself out of it.'" She had an illegal abortion, this experience made her decide to become an abortionist herself.
She was known to befriend those often discarded by society, including gamblers and call girls. She was also on first-name basis with many prominent politicians, police, judges, and businessmen. "Certainly a lot of men in this town slept more comfortably because they knew Mom’d take care of their secretaries and mistresses," For most of her career she did not hide in fear because of her work, there were no "pro-life" protesters outside her door, in fact doctors referred patients to her regularly for abortions.
Abortion not being covered by the government made it a wealthy business to be in, and Dr. Ruth definitely reaped the benefits, making about $182,000 per year. But she also charged on a sliding-scale charging the rich a large amount of money, and offering low-income women services for free. She also tipped her service workers well.
Dr. Ruth performed and supervised an estimated 40,000 abortions in her 50 year career. No one died under her care.
In 1951 she was arrested by a Portland police officer who had extorted her for $10,000. None of the influential people she had helped were willing to help her. "Where are those thousands of people you helped over the years? Where are all the people with influence and money and position?" asked her lawyer. She said: "I haven’t been able to find them." From the 1950-60s Dr. Ruth was in and out of jail, she continued to practice despite her arrests. She retired in 1968 due to her health and being jailed again.
In 1969 the Oregonian wrote: "[T]he abortion business exists today, just as always,---For the rich there are the Portland travel agencies with package plans for Japan, including airfare, hotel reservations, hospital bookings and a weekend in Tokyo. … Another package is to Mexico, and the newest ‘vacation’ is to Poland, where even the Scandinavians go for abortions."
#dr. ruth barnett#ruth barnett#abortion#roe v casey#roe v wade#abortion is a human right#abortion is healthcare#healthcare#pro choice#abortion rights#keep abortion legal#the rich and powerful will always have access to abortion while they take it away from you
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The more I argue with pro life (aka forced birth) people the more I run into the fact that they sincerely do not know (and refuse to be corrected) that MISSCARRIGE is legally considered abortion. Especially if it is late term and surgical removal of the (dead) fetus is necessary. They also (stupidly) often believe that the only way to get pregnant is by choice. I VERBATIM had someone tell me yesterday "no one is forcing you to get pregnant". It blew my damn mind, and not in a good way. I reminded them that RAPE exists and they back peddled quickly with "well obviously that's different" but buddy, pal, friend, not to the law. The law doesn't care if you have a "legitimate" reason for an abortion, the law states that ANY abortion is illegal. Saving someone's life via abortion is ILLEGAL. Inducing one to save your own will get you put in JAIL for MURDER. There's women in jail RIGHT NOW for that shit. Don't believe me? Look it up.
This isn't the 60's or even early 90's anymore where your only source of information was a tiny local library that had only "approved" books on sensitive topics. You have all the education in the world at your finger tips. Educate yourself. Listen to the stories of women who have had abortions, or needed one and *couldn't* get one.
Listen to people speak about their dead mother, sister, wife because they couldn't get an abortion. Because the pregnancy was entropic. Because the miscarriage happened late term and they died of sepsis from the rotting CORPSE inside them doctors refused to remove. From husbands and boyfriends who decided that if she wouldn't do it, he would. From starving to death because having a child ruined their ability to get education and employment. From their own hand due to post partum depression.
Abortion is a human right, and if you deny people that right you are inhuman.
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Illegal Life Pro Tip: Want to ruin your competitors business?
https://oppositeinvictus.com/illegal-life-pro-tip-want-to-ruin-your-competitors-business
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Moonlight Chicken
Watched: 02.03.2023
It felt like the highlights of a greater story.You know what? I want to watch either the show they teased in the trailer one year ago, because what we’ve got was just completely different material, or what we’ve got here, but in a longer format.
I’ll start with the biggest flaw I saw, to get it over with. Earth was miscast. To everyone who honestly thinks Earth fits the role - drop me the name of your country, I gotta go and find myself a 40 but looking 20 daddy. Don’t know what kind of fountain of youth your government is selling for you to think he is believable “about to be” middle aged man, but I want some of it.
And please don’t start with: some people look younger than their age. Sure, but this is literally not the case in this story. Not once was it part of the discussion how he looks good for his age. I mean, the fact that Wen even asked Jim if Li Ming was his son suggests, Jim is supposed to look his age. He just looked way too much like a peer next to Mix and Khaotung.
Because of that, many scenes that were more hard hitting and emotional, felt simply not sincere. He is the main character, so if I cannot connect to him, the whole show starts to fall apart. This is what happens when profiting from a popular and established pairing is more important than proper casting. Pro tip to directors - if you are not willing to cast age appropriate actors, do not try to make shows with big age gaps between characters or about characters who are in their late 30’ and 40’. (Putting this casting into perspective - the actor playing Heart’s father is 45).
That said, I’m not gonna act as if it will for sure ruin the watching experience for everyone - it will not. It’s just something that I personally cannot ignore, especially since the character’s age was brought up over and over again in conversations.
Putting Jim aside, I actually enjoyed a lot of other characters and their interactions. Wen and Li Ming were truly adorable, with this older/younger brother dynamic, and Wen did a good job being the bridge between the uncle and the teen. He made them both understand each other better.
I also found Wen’s and Alan’s relationship fascinating and wish we would see more of it. It seemed like they made almost every possible mistake to end up in this situation, and trying to fix it right away would be an impossible task.
Heart and Li Ming were obviously fans’ favorites. Did I like them? Yes. Do I feel like their interactions were too similar to My School President and it was a bit like watching the same characters just in a different context? Also yes.
Honestly speaking, Alan was my favorite character and one that I was most curious about. It should also be illegal to give Khaotung such a tiny role taking into consideration his talent. I find it a bit funny how, in my view, two most talented actors in the show were sidelined like that.
While I enjoyed Earth and Mix in their other projects, I did not quite like them here. The main couple was for me the weakest aspect of the whole show. I enjoyed the characters far more with other people, compared to watching them interact with each other.
Giving credit where credit is due, Moonlight Chicken tries to tackle more serious issues and steps away from the typical high school romance. It does not follow the “one relationship for the life” idea, showing the past relationships of the main characters. It gives us a deaf community representation in a tactful manner. It shows that at times putting more effort will not save the relationship, and the most healthy way is to just end it and leave. It shows various types of parents-kids relationships, and how there are no right and wrong universal answers, it all depends on the circumstances.
While I appreciate the writer and director bringing all these important issues to the table, I also feel like they were more of an appetizer than a whole meal. It’s undeniable that they did not have enough time to truly dive deep into any of these topics, so at the end it felt more like highlights of a greater story. Personally, I prefer my slice of life character driven shows in a slower pace, that gives me time to digest everything that is happening on the screen.
The quality of the production fluctuated quite a bit. Some scenes were a true perfection and there was not a detail that had to be changed to improve them. But then some scenes had such sloppy lighting I actually laughed. What I loved for sure though were the set designs. Aesthetically pleasing, but not over the top that it looked unnatural. You saw it and you believed - yes, someone lives/works here.
Overall, it has many great messages, many great lines. Could have been one of the best BLs if the production was a bit more daring, but also selective in terms of the story and the casting.
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“It’s a frustrating chicken-or-egg scenario: The ability to think outside yourself, to imagine a set of circumstances different than your own and to suspend your judgment on them — in other words, to empathize — is both the solution and the roadblock when it comes to talking about abortion.
“If you can’t walk a mile in someone else’s shoes, if you can’t fathom or imagine or ever encounter a situation where abortion might be the best alternative,” Glass says, “then of course it becomes impossible for you to move the needle away from the belief that abortion is just murder.”
I lack the personal experience to fully appreciate how someone’s faith leads them to that belief. I think barring someone from getting an abortion is cruel, no nuances, knowing that those on the other side feel the same way about abortion itself. We are having two parallel conversations, both of us failing to grasp — or to even try to grasp — where the other is coming from.”
In the conservative Houston community where Stephanie grew up, abortion was a concept so heinous that adults almost never mentioned it by name. Both her parents are refugees from El Salvador; her father is Catholic and her mother is an Evangelical Christian. The message she received from her family, over and over again, was that ending a pregnancy amounted to “the murder of a child, the worst thing a woman can do.”
“According to some people, God forgives all, but for the people that I was raised by, God does not forgive abortion,” she says. A woman who got an abortion would go to “hell for eternity and burn and there is nothing else.”
But when Stephanie was a senior in high school, she found out she was pregnant on a dare. A high-school classmate, disbelieving she actually had a boyfriend, goaded her into taking a test in the middle of class. Sitting in the bathroom and watching the positive result materialize, she knew instantly that she wasn’t continuing the pregnancy. “In that moment, there was no other thought,” she recalls. “I thought abortion was going to leave me infertile, and that I was going to have depression and breast cancer and I would never have sex again — so many bad things were going to happen, and it was irrelevant. It was just, I’m not having this child.”
Because her mother and grandmother would always stop to say a prayer when they drove by Planned Parenthood, Stephanie knew where to go. She kept the whole thing secret, scheduling an appointment at a clinic an hour and a half away, cobbling together about $300 from her McDonald’s wages and her sister’s tips from waitressing. She forged two absence excuses for her high school, three days apart, and terminated her pregnancy just before her senior prom. “I went through two weeks of stress,” she recalls, “for a procedure that lasted like ten minutes.” Afterward, she “felt relief and for the first time, joy,” but never regret.
That kind of evolution on abortion is uncommon. In many cases, people who oppose abortion will never experience a life-altering event that immediately flips a mental switch. Some will gradually shed their opposition over time, as they encounter different viewpoints that wear down their beliefs. But among the most committed antagonists, the idea of abortion as an absolute evil feels fixed; members of this group are resistant to data and research documenting the procedure’s safety, as well as personal accounts from patients who say access improved their lives.
This is one of the most frustrating things about covering abortion: the sense that there is no way to reach this vocal and committed minority, and no way to make them listen. Poll after poll — even one conducted by Fox News — suggests that the majority of U.S. adults want to keep abortion legal, at least in some capacity. Largely, those who believe “abortion should be illegal in all or most cases,” per the Pew Research Center, identify as Christian. Their faith now dictates federal law, the Supreme Court’s conservative majority having overturned Roe v. Wade on June 24. From a public-health perspective, and for those who value personal autonomy, the decision stands to devastate thousands, maybe even millions.
As we lurch into a future without Roe, a few questions play inside my brain on a loop: What moves the needle for people who oppose abortion? What makes them change their minds, or, at least, allows them to soften their opinions? What causes a person to shift even from the position of abortion isn’t right to abortion isn’t right for me, but what do I know about other people’s lives?
Of the ten people I interviewed about changing their minds on abortion, only three described lightbulb moments that influenced their thinking. Most framed their past views as an inherited religious teaching (all identified as formerly conservative Christians and Catholics), a given they never thought to question until they left their community. In every retelling, the process sounded more like erosion than a sudden collapse, an unwitting shift that occurred over years and usually after they had begun to rethink other aspects of their faith. Some cited new relationships that challenged their stance on, for example, gay marriage. Some reported disillusionment with a church that seemed apathetic to their needs in times of crisis. Others simply moved away or went to college — and that’s typical, according to Hugo Mercier, a cognitive research scientist at the Jean Nicod Institute in Paris.
A person’s moral and religious beliefs tend to conform to their environment because “essentially, you’ve been trained to get along,” Mercier explains. As long as you remain in an environment where views on abortion — or any charged issue — run one way, there’s little incentive or opportunity to consider a divergent perspective. If the top-down message tells you abortion amounts to infanticide, and you don’t have any other information, of course you’re going to oppose it. “As long as it remains a mostly theoretical matter, the only costs and benefits to having an opinion on abortion are social,” Mercier says.
But once abortion becomes personal — when your future stands to change depending on whether or not you decide to continue a pregnancy — the real-life implications often “swamp the social costs and benefits completely,” he explains. “If you live in a society where you know you will be completely ostracized if you have an abortion, still it’s a huge social cost, but there’s something else in the balance. It’s not just, what are other people going to think of me if I think such and such idea, it’s more like, well, what’s going to happen to me.”
It’s also crucial to remember what community likely means in this context. A popular refrain on the left, often splashed across protest signs, proposes that people who don’t like abortions simply not get them. But that attitude reflects “a fundamental misreading of what’s going on on the religious right,” says Jennifer Glass, a sociology professor at the University of Texas at Austin and executive director of its Council on Contemporary Families, a nonprofit dedicated to social-science research on family issues. Within a conservative or fundamentalist worldview, natural law dictates that “creating life and supporting life is a woman’s essential function, and therefore destroying potential life becomes not just the ‘murder’ of a human being,” Glass explains, but also “an unnatural rejection of this natural order.”
Under that line of reasoning, ending a pregnancy would be shirking a divine duty, akin to “men deserting from armed conflict,” Glass says, and “deserving of the same kind of moral opprobrium and probably the same kind of horrible punishment.” If you truly buy into the idea that a woman’s one true purpose in life is to bear children, and that God does not err in judgment, then you really might consider even a pregnancy that results from rape as “a silver lining.” And yet, Glass says, some people may still experience “moments when exactly how terrifying it would be to have to go through pregnancy and birth and support a new baby become real.” Those moments can be pivotal.
Elaina Ramsey “grew up very sheltered” outside Cleveland, Ohio. In her parents’ household, sex wasn’t up for discussion. “I’m from an Asian American family, dad was in the navy, I had a very strict upbringing,” she says. Her world shrunk further when her neighbor brought her to their Evangelical church as a teen. “I got saved,” she recalls, “and part of that worldview is that you go out and you save everyone else from their sins, and the sins that were a big no-no … had everything to do with our bodies: homosexuality and abortion.” She socialized in a small group with people who were just as faithful as her. And she stayed firm in her beliefs until, she says, “I was raped by a trusted Christian friend” in college.
“That’s how I lost my virginity,” she explains. “My world just crumbled at that point because I really blamed myself, and I thought that I could no longer be a Christian anymore, that I wasn’t saved.” Standing in line to buy her first pregnancy test, Ramsey recalls “deep, deep shame and dread.” She believed that the rape had somehow been her fault, even as she understood she had been violated. She felt conflicted. “I was taught that good people don’t have abortions, and here I am deciding, Okay, if I am pregnant, would I?” she remembers. “Very clearly, in my conscience, I knew that I would. That I would choose myself and my future and my life after college over giving birth.”
Realizing that there were situations in which abortion felt acceptable complicated Ramsey’s beliefs, as did her rape. “What does this mean, that I’ve been a part of this community, and now I feel I can no longer be a part of it because I didn’t follow the rules, or I’m not as pure as I was told to be?” she asks. But even then, Ramsey did not experience a lightbulb moment. Her reconsideration of abortion would take years, as she moved away from her Ohio circle to work in the Bronx. “Connecting with people and hearing their stories,” she realized that “abortion is not just this bogeyman thing,” but “part of what it means to be human, so we have to leave room for people’s humanity and for grace.”
As Ramsey’s experience demonstrates, even grappling with an unplanned pregnancy (or the possibility of one) may not prompt an automatic about-face on abortion. In the absence of a personal experience — your own, or that of a loved one — Mercier says that a person’s ability to change their mind often involves a physical change in community. Encountering new people with new viewpoints, cultivating trust; all of that can set the machine in motion. The bubble pops when you leave it.
That was the case for Dr. Katherine Farris, a family medicine doctor who grew up staunchly anti-abortion and is now the chief medical officer of Planned Parenthood South Atlantic. Farris was raised in the Catholic church and stayed active into college, where new friendships and new relationships challenged her closely held beliefs — about who gets into heaven and why; about sex and marriage and abuse. As one domino fell, it knocked over another, making space for her to consider her faith as a whole. Farris also knew, from about age 7, that she wanted to be a doctor; later, the moralizing she’d been taught in church didn’t square with what she learned in her medical school courses. “For a million different reasons, science says that not every pregnancy that is formed should continue,” she explains, “and science has ways of making that inevitable, through miscarriage or loss. But we use the science of medicine to help people who need our help.” Moral absolutes don’t apply.
One of the reactions Farris hears most often from her abortion patients is, “I never thought I would do this.” “The story of the protester who comes in and gets an abortion is a common story for a reason,” she says, referring to the anti-choice sidewalk counselors often clustered outside of clinics. They cannot conceive of the true stakes of pregnancy until they find their own autonomy on the line. Unfortunately, “Some people stop there and say, my justification is good,” Farris explains: They bend their rules, but don’t change their position. “They say, ‘I’m an exception, my story is different,’” Farris says, “and the reality is everyone’s story is different and unique, and that’s why everybody has to be able to make the choice themselves.”
It’s a frustrating chicken-or-egg scenario: The ability to think outside yourself, to imagine a set of circumstances different than your own and to suspend your judgment on them — in other words, to empathize — is both the solution and the roadblock when it comes to talking about abortion. “If you can’t walk a mile in someone else’s shoes, if you can’t fathom or imagine or ever encounter a situation where abortion might be the best alternative,” Glass says, “then of course it becomes impossible for you to move the needle away from the belief that abortion is just murder.” I lack the personal experience to fully appreciate how someone’s faith leads them to that belief. I think barring someone from getting an abortion is cruel, no nuances, knowing that those on the other side feel the same way about abortion itself. We are having two parallel conversations, both of us failing to grasp — or to even try to grasp — where the other is coming from.
In the end, that may be the biggest barrier to this conversation: “The ideal medium to change someone’s mind,” Mercier says, “is a one-to-one discussion, where you can really exchange arguments” — maybe about what conservatives do, after birth, to care for new parents and their children, or about what it actually means to support a family — and where you can make someone “realize that you’re a trustworthy person and that you’re sensible.” But even then, there’s no silver-bullet story that will make a steadfast abortion opponent change their mind on the issue right then and there.
The evolutions the people I interviewed underwent occurred incrementally, over years, a timeline that feels painfully slow to me in this moment. I can’t find that patience right now, nor can I summon up empathy when it comes to the religious right. A doctrine that forces people to give birth, specifically because choice on that matter threatens to level out gender and racial power imbalances: That’s extremism. The obligation not only to engage with it, but also to work to understand a perspective from someone who is unwilling or unable to do the same — to exercise patience, to chip away at your differences while the right to bodily autonomy crumbles in the background — all of it grates. At the same time, it feels reasonable to expect that the pool of people suddenly faced with the possibility of an unplanned birth will soon expand. The conservative agenda that axed abortion skews hostile to contraception and comprehensive sex ed; when those resources become scarce, pregnancy rates rise. Maybe the inflexible viewpoint will create the conditions necessary to finally bend it, but at an unconscionable cost.
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