My Heart Goes Out To The People Who Feel Like They Will Forever Be The Friend Who Walks On The Grass.

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My goth ass

As a type one diabetic, fuck capitalism. I literally just want to live and have to jump through hoops to do so. Isn't it enough that my life will be harder regardless of how much insulin costs or if my insurance will cover my pump supplies? Having a chronic illness/disability isn't fun. We just want to have as close to a normal life as possible. We don't need this shit making it even more difficult.

Insulin is a perfect counter to the "without a profit motive no one will invent anything" bullshit.

The inventors of insulin wanted it to be free and avaliable to everyone who needs it. The inventors invented it without a profit motive.

Then, capitalists inserted themselves as middle men in order to extract profit from it. It's now ridiculously expensive and people need it to live.

People are dying. The tool to save them exists. Capitalists hijack the lifesaving tool and hold it for ransom. Because of that, people die.

Capitalism is pure evil. Capitalists are murderers.

when you reblog a post because you think a specific mutual would enjoy it and then they reblog it from you

My brain as soon as I get even the faintest idea for a fic and don't immediately start writing it

Twice Is Too Slept On And Not Enough Slept With: Part 2

WC: 921

CW: dirty talk, oral sex, vaginal sex, MMF, Twice x Reader x Twice’s Double, praise kink.

Jin doesn’t always take you like he would a lover. 

Tonight, he fucks you like he means it. 

He starts off with pistoning his fingers within your sopping cunt, grinding the heel of his palm against your clit as he mouths at the dusky peaks of your nipples.

“More,” you mewl, huffy whines catapulted to the ceiling. 

“Greedy girl, aren’t you?” His stubble grazes your clavicle while he speaks into the salty warmth of your skin. “You want more, princess? I’ll fuckin’ give you more.”

A duplicate is separated from him, and you shiver, the thick head of his cock beginning to breach your entrance. You’re speared on his length, struggling to take the girth as another is prodding against your mouth. You comply with lust-heavy eyes, glassy and half-lidded, your tongue lolling out to receive him between your lips. You become putty for him. Limp and lax upon the bed, encouraging the Jin who’s thrusting into the slick at your center to angle you just right, to mold you until he can work your pliant body.

His double shoves his cock down to the hilt, spit dribbling from the corners of your mouth, his grip firm on either side of your jaw to ensure you’re taking him the way he wants. A damn near shameful whimper is the only thing that betrays the composure he’s holding onto, slinking from his chest as you run the flat of your tongue across his pulsing shaft. You can tell he’s starting to crack. His hips are stuttering, legs shaking, eyes twitched up when you hum against him. 

“This enough for you? Hmm?” His voice gravels an octave lower, the slightest quiver held within it.

Another pair of hands paw eagerly at your form, slamming you by the hips so that he can pound into your messy cunt, the tip of him dragging along a soft ledge deep inside of you. 

“Don’t worry about answerin’, princess. I can feel how wet you are. Ngh, such a wet, tight little pussy you’re lettin’ me fuck,” he shudders as you clamp around him. 

A strained whine is bitten back, “Gonna cum in this pretty mouth. Gonna—hah—oh, f-fuck.” The phrase lilts towards the end, breathy and heady, melting into a climbing groan as he spills his release onto your tongue. 

You look him directly in the eyes, his palm resting at the back of your head, and you swallow him as far back as you can manage, relishing in the way he sputters broken little phrases, so bliss-drunk and spent. 

“That’s right. Good girl, takin’ what we give you,” his praise is strained, a fire lit under him when he sees his cock pulled from your lips. 

You give a delighted whimper as Jin repositions you into his lap, rotating your back to his chest and spreading your pussy apart for better access to the unbearable ache at your clit. He gives the throbbing bud a few delicate swipes of his thumb, breath hot at the crook of your neck, his hips beginning to pick up the pace once more. 

“You gonna cum if I keep playing with you like this?” He asks teasingly, though the fog settling atop his eyes says he isn’t far behind. 

You nod zealously, “Uh-huh. ‘M so close.”

“Fuck, I know you are, baby,” his nails dig into the plush of your hips, free hand still working you in tandem. “It’d be a shame not to have it on my cock and my tongue, though.”

He nudges your legs further apart, the double’s hand replacing his, now kneeling in front of you as Jin holds you steady in his lap and ruthlessly pounds into your cunt. 

“Got such a cute little clit,” he laps your swollen sex in one long stroke. “Let’s see how quick we can get you off if I lick it.”

He pulls you betwixt his lips, sucking and flicking his tongue across the underside, and you clench like a vice in response. 

“Keep doin’ that. Fuck, she’s gettin’ so tight on me,” Jin grits as he opens your thighs even more with each hand.

Twice’s duplicate growls beneath you, that sinfully skilled mouth of his laving over your peak, Jin thrusting into your cunt all the while. His tongue circles your clit, a string of curses spilling incoherently from your lips as you feel yourself edging closer to your undoing. 

“Such a good girl. Doing such a good job taking me like this. Yeah, there ya go, just like that,” the sultry coo fans hot over your skin. 

Loud, wet slaps of skin against skin hang in the tepid air, that familiar coil winding tight within your core. He’s relentless now, humming onto your sensitive apex, sucking you into his mouth one last time before you’re sent crashing headlong into an orgasm that has you seeing stars. You gasp and writhe and moan his name.

“Oh my God,” he sounds so incredibly wrecked, sobbing at the feeling of you squeezing him, panting and bucking wildly. “Cum on my cock. That’s it, princess, cum all over this fuckin’ cock. Mmmff. Yeah, make a mess. That’s it. I’m gonna—gonna—“

He pulls back one good time to properly rut himself into you, stuffed down to the hilt as he pulses inside of your fluttering walls, thick, hot cum dripping down his shaft from your raw, puffy pussy. You’re trembling by the time he releases you from his mouth, the lot of you huffing to catch your breaths. Your head falls back onto his chest. 

“Hey,” Jin taps you on the cheek, duplicate standing, pumping his length, “you ready for round two?”

Me to myself any time I see a word or phrase I like in what I'm reading

♡ Kissed By The Baddest Villain ♡

Link To Masterlist

WC: ~3,000

Chapter 2: Getting To Know You

You all get back to the hideout in the middle of the night, having shaken down a few members of the Shie Hassaikai for information. Apparently there's a man who goes by Overhaul who's really making a name for himself. He's been working on bullets that can erase quirks, and with this rumor floating around, Shigaraki's interest has been sufficiently piqued. He had to know more, for the progression of the league--thus your involvement tonight. 

"I can't believe you made that guy think his ex came back just to have her leave again!" Toga comments as you lounge about in the den. 

Her golden eyes shine as she takes a spot next to you at the counter. There's something surreptitious about her expression, shifting behind her gaze, highly strung and neurotic. You think perhaps it's her desire for blood that wasn't quite sated by today's mission. 

"I can't believe he cried so much," Twice weighs in, gritting after, "I'll give 'em something to really cry about," 

"I can't believe something like that actually worked," Dabi scoffs, taking a swig of whisky straight from the bottle. 

You fold your arms behind your head, "Hey, I work with what I've got. He said he wanted his girlfriend back but couldn't handle it going both ways I guess. She must've fucked his shit up," 

It's still surprising for the league to hear you curse like this with as gentle as you are with them. But that's what happens when you grow up in a world of villains. The words have all but lost their meaning to you by now.

"Psh. What a pussy. I'd never let someone make me that weak and pathetic," Dabi checks his phone to seem disinterested in the conversation in the hope that this catches your attention, but no such luck. Having you around is the only time he's ever had to play mysterious and brooding and it's pissing him off. 

This elicits an eyeroll from Spinner, "It ain't weak to love someone. Maybe you're just not strong enough to handle it,"

"So you're an expert now? Got yourself a little crush and now lizard's an expert?" 

"Shut up, Dabi, seriously!" Spinner looks frantic, face beet red, fists balled at each side.

You could cut the tension with a knife. 

"Both of you need to shut up," Shigaraki interjects, "It's not like either of you NPCs have a shot at a relationship with anyone,"

Mr. Compress tsks as he folds one elegant leg across the other, sitting on the couch as if he were attending a fine theater production while Toga claps and kicks her feet. It feels like any time you get involved with the league, regardless of the shape or form, there ends up being some sort of argument. This has you wondering what exactly you're doing wrong.

"Guys, come on now. We're all a team. We should be supporting each other," Twice gives a thumbs up before turning to you, "Right, Yumemi?"

Dabi's grip on the whiskey bottle goes white-knuckled, though his face doesn't move. He isn't sure what's going on between you two, but whatever it is he thinks he's seeing, he better fucking not be. You're way out of everyone's league--his included--but Dabi knows he's the only one who can handle you. Twice and Compress need to back down. 

Or he'll make them.

"Way to suck up, Twice..." Spinner mutters under his breath with a barely audible "kissass" grumbled from Shigaraki.

Compress stands, hands animated when he says, "I, for one, will not be partaking in their squabbles. I'd like to instead thank you for getting us that information, Miss Saito. We couldn't have done this without you,"

Your face is going up in flames over all of the recognition being given to you, stating, "I'm just doing what I came here to do,"

"And so modest. We really don't deserve you," Compress continues, and you blush like mad, fiddling with a lock of your hair. 

Your bright doe eyes dart up, lashes fluttering, cheeks dark, the gentle parting of your lips just enough to show how pouty and kissable they are. The realization hits the group simultaneously in some way or another: you look so cute and flustered like this because of none other than Mr. Fucking Compress. 

"You're probably quite tired now," he says with the flick of a gloved hand, reaching to brush the hair out of your face. 

He wants to see you like this all the time. Wants you so gorgeous and emotional beneath him so that he can take you into an embrace. But so does everyone else in this room, and he knows that. He has to get you alone somehow. 

"A little, but I'm sure you guys all tire out when you use your quirks. I'll be alright,"

"What can I do to help?" Mr. Compress sets a hand upon your shoulder. The intimacy behind behind this touch combined with the secrecy of his mask is throwing you.

"I'm fine, really, I--"

"No, what can I do?" Dabi asks sardonically, "These chucklefucks will just mess it up. But you can trust me to get whatever you need," 

From your peripheral, you see Spinner pad away down the hall. At least it seems as though he's had the good sense to evacuate before things become tumultuous once more. 

"I don't even have to leave to get you something. I can have a double get it and still keep you company," says Twice, looking quite proud of himself. 

Shigaraki removes the hand which he calls Father from across his face, stuffing it into the pocket of his hoodie, "I can just have Kurogiri warp me to get whatever you need. Don't even bother with these noobs, Yumemi. I have whatever you want at my fingertips," he draws a sharp breath, "Unless I've misjudged, and you're actually stupid enough to rely on one of them to get anything done for you,"

Spinner returns with a pillow and a sleeping bag, then lays them out onto the couch, fluffing them purposefully as he says, "There. Now you don't even have to leave to get comfortable," he casts a bashful gaze over his shoulder, "We could relax and watch a movie if you're not tired enough to sleep,"

Toga nods her head in approval, taking you by the hand and leading you to the couch where she snuggles up next to you. 

"Hey--!" Spinner is all but seething. 

"Oh no, was this spot for you, Spinner?" She smiles, wide and genuine, "If anyone wanted to sit here next to Yumemi, go ahead and tell me and I'll get up so you two can cuddle. At least, that's why I would assume someone wanted a seat next to our little Mimi,"

Tomura's stomach is in knots, Spinner is more red than he's ever been before, Compress is squeezing the counter so tightly it's a miracle it hasn't splintered, Dabi's hands are actively smoking, and Twice is kicking around at the floor like he might actually cry. Damn, did everyone really want to sit next to you that badly? You know it's wrong, but it makes you feel kind of special. You never had a chance to experience the social hierarchies of public school, however, this makes you feel popular.

"A movie is a great idea, Spinner," he smirks as the other men shoot him a grimace, "Why don't we have a movie night? That's what I do at home when I want to relax," the group seems to ease when you suggest this. 

Everyone settles down to watch a movie, the first of which you've agreed upon being Scream with Halloween right around the corner. This ends up being fun at first, the room filled with phrases of "don't go in there" and "you better run". However, it's closer to morning than it is to night, and the day has been long. You and Mr. Compress end up being the last ones awake as the movie comes to and end.

"Aren't you tired, Miss Saito?" He leans over the arm of the couch with his question. 

You shift in your seat to face him, "I have trouble sleeping sometimes. What about you? Not tired after compressing Shie Hassaikai loot?"

"It's the same for me more often than not. I'm quite the night owl," he nudges some space between you and Toga as gingerly as he can manage to sit next to you. 

This is the opportunity he's been waiting for... so why is he so nervous? 

"Hey. Would you still be able to do me a favor? If your offer from earlier still stands, that is," your words send a chill down his spine. He finds himself backed against the couch's arm now, peering down at you as you bat those beautiful lashes at him.

Christ, you're pretty.

And now it's suddenly sweltering to the point that he feels like he's going to burst out of his skin. 

"Anything," he says just above a whisper. 

"Call me Yumemi, please," he watches your lips as you speak, "I'd like to hear you call me by my first name,"

Oh god oh fuck. 

You two are the only ones awake, and you're looking up at him with stars in your eyes, practically begging him to say your name. He feels every single ounce of courage and composure leave his body. He's reduced to nodding his head in agreement. 

"Thank you, Compress," you smile warmly at him, and his heart skips so many beats he's concerned for his wellbeing. You're going to give him fucking hypertension at this rate. 

"Atsuhiro," he states. 

"Hmm?"

Mr. Compress removes his mask for the first time since you've met. Granted, it's only been a few days, but he's the only one you haven't seen in civilian clothing yet, all of the others often out of their costumes shortly after they arrive at the hideout. He's very handsome when he takes off the black ski covering which lies beneath his white mask of magic. You weren't entirely positive what you had expected him to look like, but he certainly wasn't this good looking in your head. 

"My first name," he murmurs, "It's Atsuhiro. You.. you can call me that. If you want to,"

You place a hand on his arm, your scorching touch seemingly burning him through his clothes as you tell him, "I'd like that,"

He swallows so thickly he can hear his throat click. What are you doing to him? This isn't like him at all. He's a character, a performer, a modern and revolutionary trubidore--not some kid who just met the girl next door. He finds himself missing the heat when you return your hand back to your lap, nestling back down into the sleeping bag. You're so cute like this. So casual and sweet. 

"Atsuhiro," your voice calls out into the dark, like honey atop the TV glow, setting his skin to prickle in lines. 

"Yes?" He exhales sharply, previously unaware of the breath he'd been holding. 

"Wanna do something else since we're up?"

It's happening.

This entire stupid torturous week was all worth it because something is finally happening. 

He should play the lottery tomorrow because he is the luckiest man alive.

"I'd like that if you would," his tone has nearly taken an octave lower, husky and deep in his chest, his heart beating so wildly he's afraid it may leap from him entirely. 

You're leaning in now. This is it. You're about to--

Grab the remote.

Fuck. 

"What kind of movies do you like?" You ask him, exiting out of Scream. 

Compress settles himself, tries his best to calm his expression, which is no longer hidden behind the shield of his mask. He can feel how red and damp his face is getting, which is, in turn, making him even more red and damp. 

"Mostly classic film, old cinema. That sort of thing," he manages to reply.

"I love old films. I think I saw The King And I on here earlier if you like that one,"

His tongue is sticking to the roof of his mouth, hands beginning to tremble. Atsuhiro isn't normally someone who lacks finesse, having always been charismatic and fearless; but you have him feeling oddly nervous, palms wet inside his gloves.

"I love that one," he resigns himself to this simple, lacking sentence.

"Perfect. That's what we're doing, then," you select the movie on the screen, "So what other things do you like?"

You seem so eager to get to know him. 

It isn't often that you have opportunities like this in your line of work. Sure, getting close to people can end up biting you in the ass if they get taken down by whoever you're up against at the time--but they call it team-building for a reason. Bonding strengthens the odds being in your favor, both for him and for you.

"Hmm. Well, I like to read," 

"What do you read?"

"Mysteries, mostly. Classics,"

"Oh, like Agatha Christie?" He appears excited by your recognition.

"Exactly like Agatha Christie!" He straightens in his spot, "Are you familiar with her works?"

You mull over his question, "I've read a couple of her books. And Then There Were None, Murder On The Orient Express. I think that's it, though,"

"Do you read often?" Compress finds himself longing to continue your conversation.

Why? This, he can't say. All he knows is that he needs you to keep talking. 

"Yeah, I've always read a lot. Always watched a lot of movies, too, since my parents made sure I was home pretty much all the time growing up,"

"You were held captive by them?"

"No," you giggle, "Well, not exactly. My family is notorious for villainy on both sides so they were seriously protective,"

"A kindred spirit, then. My own family is infamous as well," 

The sound of old, wobbly violins ends the chatter for you both. It's soft, a little eerie, and absolutely captivating. You hum along quietly to the music, causing his heart to stutter, sloppy and rough behind his ribs. He looks down to see you getting drowsy, head bobbing and eyes glassy as Getting To Know You lulls you to sleep. Your head rests on his shoulder for a moment before you jerk awake once more. 

"Sorry," you mutter, too sleepy to be embarrassed by the sudden close contact. 

"It's alright. More than alright, actually, if you'll just let me do something," Compress wriggles out of his overcoat and folds it on the couch behind him, in part so that you can rest on the softer shirt beneath it, and also so he can get some much needed relief for how hot he's become, "There. This should be more comfortable for you Miss--ah--Yumemi,"

Your eyes are so heavy that you don't even think twice before lying against him again, "That's sweet, Atsuhiro. Thank you,"

Atsuhiro watches the steady rise and fall of your chest, studies your features as they become lax and peaceful. The screen splashes colors of light across the contours of your face, the arch of your lashes casting shadows over the apples of your cheeks, new hues blooming in your hair. With the lightest touch he can offer, he tucks the few strands of hair behind your ear that have fallen into your face. His thumb lingers for a few seconds to graze your bottom lip.

He removes his gloves to trace the pad of his finger across your jawline, to quell this ever-growing need to have you close to him. It's a feeling he can't quite understand. You're more than ornamental to him now, excelling past a pretty face. And you're so soft. So warm and comforting. Having you draped over him this way is like being covered in a blanket. He finds himself drifting off, eyes so heavy it's as if they're weighed down by rocks. 

When he next awakens, he's being tapped on the forehead by Twice, who whisper-screams, "You piece of shit, you're sleeping with her?"

"What?" Atsuhiro is barely awake, the vestiges of sleep still present in his bones.

"She's all over you! You snuck onto the couch when the rest of us were sleeping so she could fall asleep on you and then you could fall asleep with her like this!" Twice points animatedly at your still sleeping form. 

At some point during the night, Mr. Compress had slid further down onto the couch, with you and Toga adjusting in kind. While Toga was pressed and almost folded into the far corner, you've dropped over his chest, arms wrapped around his neck and legs caging him in at either side of his waist. Atsuhiro gasps, cheeks slapped crimson, leading you to groggily groan and nuzzle into the crook of his neck. You're using him like a pillow. So fucking cute. 

"What's going on?" Dabi shuffles over, rousing Spinner in the process. They both stretch and yawn as they approach the new hub of the hideout: this godforsaken couch. 

"Compress slept with Yumemi!" Twice accuses, the whisper sharp in his throat.

"Excuse me?" Shigaraki hisses from his corner of the room. 

"Shh, you'll wake her," Compress holds you closer against him in a shameless display of superiority, "Twice is being literal, she fell asleep on me last night,"

Everyone else scoffs at his admittance, the room growing silent so you can continue to rest peacefully. 

"I'm still pissed," Spinner says with arms crossed.

You begin to wake soon thereafter, rustling beneath the sleeping bag, and everyone scrambles back to their original placements. When you open your eyes, lids undulating, you're face-to-face with Mr. Compress, his eyes wide and nearly panicked. 

"I'm sorry," you say, rubbing at your eyes as you press against his chest to rise, "That's so embarrassing. I can't believe I was all over you like this," you cup your blushing face in your hands. 

"No need for apologies. You kept me warm the entire night. I should really be thanking you," He remains horizontal, soft-spoken and slightly mussed, thumbs rubbing circles on your shoulders in a manner that feels intensely intimate. 

"Yumemi," the way he says your name is hushed, like a feather on the wind. 

Just as your mouth parts to speak, Dabi leans over Atsuhiro's face, locking eyes with you when he states, "I'm hungry. You want breakfast or what?"

"Breakfast? Sounds yummy," Toga says through the gravel of morning. 

"Y'know, I-I can make breakfast since I actually know how to cook," Spinner pipes up, "But I'd only be able to cook for us. I've never made for more than a person or two, so, feeding outside of me and you ain't really within my abilities,"

"Or I could take you out to eat since I'm the only one here who has any money," Shigaraki tells you frankly. 

"It's not even your money!" Dabi responds heatedly, his cerulean gaze flickering.

"Doesn't matter, I still have it,"

There's smoke billowing from the kitchen, followed by, "Nobody worry, I'm taking care of breakfast!" From Twice. 

"Oh man. Okay, I'm making breakfast, you guys just chill," you begrudgingly tell them, flipping the sleeping bag off of you. 

You don't normally like to cook, but this incident with Mr. Compress has you desperate to keep your mind off of it. You didn't dislike waking up like that, yet, that's what has you feeling some sort of way about it. 

But at least nothing like that will end up happening again. 

Chapter 68: Encounter

Me becoming immediate best friends with the people who Kudos and comment

I love when people Kudos my fic, because that means I get to stalk their AO3 profile and steal their bookmarks to read later >:]