#i got those weak lungs babey

[queenofsantacarla]

Heyyyy 😊 if you're still taking requests could you possibly do one with numbers 7, 9, and 11 with Paul ? I love your writing so much btw 🥰💕

Heck yeah thank you lovely 💛💛💛 this kind of ties in to the other affection prompts

7. squishing someones cheeks & 9. wiping away someones tears & 11. back hugs

Warnings: recreational drug use by reader and paul, implied poly!tlb

You had been thinking about it more and more recently.

More than once, you've caught yourself staring intently at the ornate bottle the boys passed around in their nightly rituals. You knew what was in it, you knew what they were, and yet you hesitated.

You loved your boys and they loved you. Forever... was just an intimidating thought.

As time went on, though, it was becoming more desirable. And that thought scared you too.

It was why you had snuck off with Paul to engage in some stress relief in the form of the fine cannabis he kept stashed away in his own corner of the cave. You were watching the way the smoke swirled above you as you exhaled, and Paul's long fingers explored your stomach and thighs with gentle caresses. You could hear him humming softly, and it brought a lazy smile to your features.

After a long drag of his own he leaned in, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. "What are you thinking about?"

You turned, getting lost in his amber eyes. They seemed to swirl with shades of gold as you stared, and it made your smile grow. "How pretty you are."

"Hey, that should be my line." Paul scooched closer, capturing your lips with his. You could taste the lingering smoke, but there was an underlying taste that was all him, indescribable, that made you dizzy every time.

You loved your boys and they loved you. And when you thought about forever... it looked a lot like this. Simple moments of tenderness that still made your heart race and your head fuzzy.

And there was the thrills that came along with them, too. Sailing through the night on the back of their bikes with the wind in your hair, getting up to antics on the boardwalk every night. And you'd never admit it, but you'd dreamt more than once about what it'd be like to fly with them above the lights of Santa Carla, close to the stars.

It was beautiful. You couldn't picture your life being any different, how could you give this up?

The thought of not being with your boys forever was... painful. And that paired with the high and the tenderness of Paul's kisses made your eyes start to burn.

"Baby?" He whispered against you, and it wasn't until he pulled back and wiped at your cheek that you realized you were crying. "Aw, sugar, what's wrong?"

You reached up, carding your hand through his curls. "Nothing, I promise. I'm... just happy."

Paul laughed, the sound melodic as always. He squished your cheeks in his hands and bumped his nose against yours. "You're so cute when you're high."

"Oh, stop." You playfully shoved him away to sit up, but his arms went right around your waist and his face nuzzled into your neck.

"Hey, where ya goin'?"

"I... think I need to talk to everyone. Come on, this is important."

~

thank you for the request lovely 💛💛💛

[eatsbop]

After running five laps around the house I've decided to write this. Cause you're right @kaasjee we gotta extend some empathy towards those nerds. Like.. I'm very.. empathy. Em.. empathetic, empathic. Ya. Whichever of those two are correct.

I chose to write on glasses nerd's pov cause he uses big words like percentile. I'm not even sure I can pronounce that word. Percentile haha. Tf.

The day started as per usual.

I woke up at 4 am on the dot (not a second later) feeling totally refreshed. I, after all, got a solid 20 minutes of sleep after some extra revisions I did the previous night.

I meditated for five minutes, chanting affirmations to claim victory once again.. it goes "ballin ballin highballin babey". Afterwards I went through my usual routine to get ready for another, I'm sure, amazing school day. By time I was done it was already 5 am. Skincare takes a bit of work as I have to apply precisely 15 layers of sunscreen. Got to have all my bases covered.

After grabbing my schoolbag and phone, I left my room with a vigorous bounce in my steps. That's totally not a tic from lack of sleep, I already told you I slept a solid 20 mins.

Going in the kitchen, I procured one (1) crispy soda cracker. I had forgotten the face of my dad in my moment of weakness and ate ramyeon last night.. because I kind of got stuck on a problem and needed some energy booster! So ya! I'm already pretty full! After finishing my filling breakfast, I drank two glasses of water. Like a wiseman once said, "The light of the world will illuminate within you if you purify yourself." Yeah boi. I can already feel the headache that comes with having such big brain energy™ first thing in the morning.

Before leaving the house, I checked myself once more by the mirror at the entryway. Gotta make sure there's no unsightly wrinkles or ties askew. While clothes don't maketh the man, teachers give points for conduct.

I arrived at school one hour early for class. I always make sure to arrive an hour early to show the teachers who the real MVP is around here.

The day passed like a blur. Like. Ya.

I'm deskmates with the top student, Ji Yeonwoo. He's like.. a mega brainiac. Like I said, he's the top student. He's also athletic, charming, polite, handsome, popular.. all the good stats. When you're around him, you sometimes forget who you are. Like you're just a side character. Or an extra.

It's not because we're deskmates that we became friends. It's totally because you tend to attract the people with the same energy that you do!

Yeonwoo, straight A's? Me, straight A's. Yeonwoo, glasses? Me, glasses. And so on. Totally same. Almost identical.

Anyway we planned to head to a cafe after school to compare notes of today's lessons. But then.. something unusual happened before we could step out of school.

A guy intercepted us.

At first we thought he was Yeonwoo's friend. As I've said earlier, you attract the energy that is similar to the energy you give. We, of course, are excited! There isn't that many of us! But here he is, Yeonwoo's friend. Another tall, cool, good-looking guy with perfect stats. One of our people.

Then the next thing I knew, all the air in my lungs are gone and the world is turning black.

What happened?..

Is it something that we've said?

What did we even say.

My life flashed before my eyes.

What did we even say?

"Oh. Are you fighting to see who has the best scores?! Then we want in!"

Oh.

[sanchoyo]

Looks like you’re gonna have to gush some more cuz I meant in general uwu🌸

🌺😌🤟 Always happy to! Okay here’s just some General bnha Thoughts ™ Mostly Lov centric. You asked for them, and you said GUSH about them, so here’s. A Lot! :)

This isn’t a lov one but it’s really funny so I thought I’d put it out there:

-when bnha was first gaining traction on tumblr, it was all art of Tsuyu. I have no idea why. People were talking about the funky frog lesbian superhero anime. Maybe it was just the people I was following, maybe it was a general trend, but I LOVED her design!!! my fav color and frogs r super cute!!! And I already loved superhero media, so I was like. I’ll watch it. For Her. SO. FROPPY IS THE REASON I WATCHED/READ BNHA. I went in thinking she was the protag and I was sooo confused when Izuku was... tbh I still think it’d be more interesting if she was lmaooo aus where? ...seriously if anyone has good aus where this is the case send them LOL

-I don’t actually feel that bad abt what Shigaraki’s doing. I still feel bad for him. I’m this post. yes im an apologist. its not my fault hes sexy and has been running around shirtless. hes a lesbian icon like thor is. I want to touch his hair. hes never done anything wrong in his life. he could kill all might, deku, bakugo, whatever, I’d still be sayin this. I don’t feel bad for gt. like. was anyone genuinely attached to him? lmao

-well u know how spinner’s quirk is just sticking to things? We haven’t seen him use it in canon except like, (1) time iirc?? I think this is probably bc he’s embarrassed about it even in front of the league... I loooove the idea that he gets more comfortable with it around them :”) and also how shigaraki. um. does that falling asleep thing while standing up with his eyes open, canonly? (which I still love lmfao) Imagine someone in the league walking in a dark room, turning on the light n just seeing. Spinner upside down, stuck to the ceiling asleep bc heat rises and its Warmer Up There. (cold blooded thing like tsuyu?? come ON give him a big fuzzy coat and scarf...) and Shigaraki in the center of the room, slouched but still standing, eyes open and motionless. Theyre both sleeping. Whomever sees it just...slowly walks out. LMAO

-Toga roller derby au. No deep thoughts I just think she’d be good at it. 

-Toga 100% is a social butterfly and could befriend anyone if they didn’t just judge the fact she was trying to stab them smh :/ (ok but seriously anytime I see cute friendships with her n the other kids im like :) aw. I feel like her and Camie...would be good friends. Camie feels chill enough to be like ‘ok whatever thats totally fine I forgive you!!’ LMAO we love airheads here)

-HOW DID TOGA GET SO GOOD AT FIGHTING? We know she’s been on the run since middle school or so, but good enough to pin Deku down after he’s been formally trained at a ~hero school~ for a while? (she pinned him TWICE I think, once when his arms were messed up, but, the other time as Camie, so? AND THEN WAS ONE OF THE 100 PEOPLE TO GO THRU TO THE 2ND ROUND OF THAT? even tho she didn’t bc she had to leave) good enough to beat Aizawa in a fight and stab him? A professional hero and teacher for YEARS? Is that seriously just street training??? Can people acknowledge how amazing her combat skills and reflexes are??? More Toga appreciation when?? Also her backstory??? SO subversive and incredible, hate when people reduce her to just a ~typical anime yandere~ :/

-Tomura doing stuff with his hands/fingers to train his quirk!!! And to learn to be careful with it!! obv I’m a Big Fan of him playing piano to do this and video games are prob the canon answer, but like, guitar or any stringed instrument that requires Hands would work too. Or knitting/sewing? EMBROIDERING? ??? Please, let me give you the mental image of him knitting aggressively while mentally scheming, watching a twitch streamer or smth too while doing it. (Doing stuff with your hands is a great way to let your mind come up with creative stuff, that’s how I come up with writing/drawing ideas 70% of the time)

-Tomura actually PREFERS cutesty, relaxing games. I mean, he does fighting and bloody stuff irl, games are a way to relax...he’ll play shooters and gta type games with The Lads, but. on his own?? animal crossing. pokemon. kirby games. mario. zelda. BIG ZELDA FAN (not saying this bc I, personally, am biased, but,) slime rancher, stardew valley, funny simulator games... he really enjoys those :”) God forbid he has a kid bc they’re 100% getting named after a viddy game character unless someone can talk him out of it LOL. Toga and Tomura are that animal crossing /doom meme where she’d be asking for doom and him asking for animal crossing :”)

-Bits and pieces of Before are kinda stuck in Kurogiri’s brain, but like. mostly useless stuff the doctor didn’t care about removing. Like, types of clouds. So Tomura kinda picks up on stuff like that. He can just look at clouds and tell you what type they are because Kurogiri used to take him up to high places in the city and point them out to calm Tomura down from a panic attack when he was younger. He can tell you if the sky looks like it’ll rain with a 80% accuracy rate too. 

-Kurogiri left food out for kitties in the alley beside the bar. They weren’t allowed in for Health Reasons (it IS a bar with sanitation standards!!) And Tomura really wouldn’t stop it or encourage it either way so long as Kurogiri did his job, but occasionally would stand outside with Kurogiri and just watch the kitties from a distance. If any approached he’d go back in (lowkey afraid he’d hurt them by touching them :( ) They kinda kept that between them tho, bc they both Know AFO is a big bag of dicks and no fun

-people have pointed out how similar aizawa and tomura look. this was 100% the intention. tomura has a hatecrush on him. THIS IS SO FUNNY AND HORRIBLY AWKWARD FOR KUROGIRI LMAO

-Sako??? Mr. Dramatic?? Opera fan. Drama kid. Like, obviously, but. Really. He is. I feel like he can speak a dozen languages. I also feel like he used to be an overachiever but got too ambitious. He was def some kind of leader at one point of a diff Group or something that fell apart. I LOVE how creative he is with his quirk and the magician theme??? incredible. I don’t show him enough love but I Love Clowns :o)

-I don’t care what their canon heights are. Spinner and Dabi? short kings. My height hcs are (tallest to shortest) Kurogiri, Twice, Sako (who also has heels on his boots and a tall hat, keep in mind), Tomura, Magne (Tomura and Magne are about the same height imo) Toga, Spinner, Dabi. LISTEN. Dabi has short energy. Sorry. it’s true tho

-This is a semi-popular hc I think bc I KNOW I’ve seen it before, but Dabi having Terrible Vision and needing glasses is so so good. (seriously, with burns THAT close to his eyeballs, how could he not?) 

-he tries to be a tough loner coolguy. you’d think he’d smoke, but I hc his ‘weak constitution’ comes with weak lungs (esp from years of a flame quirk?? inhaling smoke over so much time is SO bad for you, most people who die in fires actually die of smoke inhalation...) so he’s got like, an inhaler, can’t smoke, actually gets carsick, needs glasses, overuses quirk to save friends constantly, likes napping, a little awkward and rude. Tomura put him in charge of the vanguard so he’s smart, and good with strategies too, like a nerd. this is the Dabi I wanna see, not the popular fandom version of him tbh also step on hawks one more time sir :”)

-I wish all the lov fics weren’t?? villain!deku like I said earlier, but also, chatfics? I have nothing against them but most of them are just a bombardment of Memes with NO PLOT!!! Listen. text/chatfics CAN have plot and be an interesting way to tell a story. I almost want to write one just to show what I mean...

I know I’ve said I like spinaraki and blackmagic, but I am a multishipper, so a few ships I don’t talk about that I like that involve the lov in some way:

-toga/any of the 1A girls??? or Camie??? super interesting. ALSO in the radio drama, bakugo’s voice actor said Toga was his favorite girl??? so?? bakugo/toga ?? I WANT TO SEE IT. but specifically my fav dynamic with her is when someone ELSE is the one to like her first, it’s what she deserves.

-Kurogiri/aizawa/mic?? any variety of that is also 👌🏻 I also kinda wanna see kurogiri/all might bc. Dads. COME ON. they bond over ‘well, I raised him, and you want to have a part in his life now?? ok. earn it. prove it. I’ll screen you first’ or something LMAO they’re both genuinely concerned for the boy, and SOOO biased. let them bond.

-WAIT WHERE IS THE MIC/COMPRESS CONTENT. THEYRE BOTH DRAMATIC. ENEMIES TO LOVERS?? HELLO??? SOMEONE?? ANYONE. rarepair hours

-giran/twice is cute. like he was hyping him up so much and so ready to go save him...

-dabi/magne where is the content. when. why not everywhere??? I’ve also seen magne/compress which was cute!! or twice/magne? they’re the big sibs of the lov...

-dabi/spinner?? come ON dabi could get over his learned biases and spend time with him and they could hold hands. I want them to.

-dabihawks. Obviously bc the Drama. yes even still, don’t @ me. (also, shigahawks, seen some REAL interesting fics with it tbh) or spinahawks?? adding hawks to a ship is like adding extra chili powder. makes it SPICY dramatic)

-nine/tomura don’t @ me once again. both kinda afo’s playthings, nine obviously was the test for tomura’s new upgrades...they both love their friends...That Scene in the Flower field </3 hmmm tragicships are fun.

-tomura/mirko. more enemies to lovers. big fan of her and bunnies. remember when he wore bunny ears in bnha smash. (ok its crack but. CUTE.) 

-I’ve also seen shiganatsu and shigafuyu and I’m like. these are cute, but also Dabi’s reaction always makes me cry laugh. so good.

-MOST EVERYONE IN THE LOV IS LGBTQA+!!! heres my personal headcanons:

Toga: pan or bi (CANON BASICALLY)

Magne: transwoman (CANON BABEY) bi, leans towards men. (her crush on dabi in bnha smash... uwu content where)

Shuichi: gets sooooo flustered canonly, I think he’d go for the first person Who Hit On Him (I can see him being the target of those mean pranks where someone says ‘my friend likes you!!’ and the friend is like ‘eww!!’ :(((( ) he’s super hesitant for romance, lots of repressed stuff. gay but takes sooo long to realize it bc he thinks most women are conventionally pretty Aesthethically, feels obligated to Like Them, but has bad self esteem so never goes after them, then only likes (1) guy so hes like?? is this allowed?? is this allowed???? (HES LIKE. IN LOVE WITH SHIGARAKI)

Dabi: bi but rly hasn’t ever gotten to date anyone, so he’s actually more reserved about it and while he’ll tease, he absolutely is absent and kinda oblivious (again, I KNOWWWW bnha smash isnt canon, but. my god. when magne is hitting on him and he Just Doesnt Understand.) also hes ace

Tomura: doesn’t care. (just prob says ‘its whatever’) trans/nonbinary (i’M NOT PROJECTING, BUT. :’/) probably goes with like, the label queer if any but doesn’t care much for labels

Kurogiri: bi??? kind of??? I say kind of bc well, I hc U Know Whom as bi, I feel like thatd carry over but he’d be really avoidant to date anyone bc hes gotta Watch His Kid u know? this is gonna sound surprising but I think he’d be the type to be like ‘ok we can have a one night stand/fling BUT it cant get personal bc I have a Job to Do for my Son so don’t get up in your feelings’ and act a little coldly at first or very ..not personable... depending on who it was he’d prob turn around eventually, esp if that person valued his feelings/job :”)

Sako: that mans Not Straight. I hc him as gay and also trans :3c

Twice: Bi and HAS dated prob more than anyone else in the league imo, super comfortable with his sexuality and supportive of everyone else’s :)

ok that’s about all I can think of atm, come back in 5 minutes and my brain will refill with lov headcanons :3 thank you for asking!!

[babbushka]

Dead Man

Flip Zimmerman x Reader 

(word count: 2.5k ; warnings: N*FW babey)

                                                   -----------------------

You were zipping down the main road, convertible top down, wind in your hair and radio blasting. There was not another soul in sight, and you had just done some serious damage at the grocery store, taking advantage of all the new sales for the week. 

Dolly Parton’s new single had just hit the airwaves, and you could not get enough of it. You sang at the top of your lungs along to the heart-wrenching ballad, grateful that no woman could tempt your man the way Jolene seemed to be able to tempt Dolly’s.

You were so caught up in the song and the atmosphere of the beautiful Colorado mountains that you were driving through, that it wasn’t until the commercial on the radio started playing and you turned the volume down that you noticed the flashing red and blue lights behind you.

“Oh shit.” You cursed to yourself, checking your speed.

A decent twenty miles over the limit, you saw, and you groaned. 

You pulled over and turned the radio all the way off, hoping it was one of Flip’s friends in the car behind you, hoping that you could maybe maybe maybe sweet-talk your way out of a ticket.

You fixed your hair in the rear-view mirror, and waited patiently for…well speak of the devil, you thought, when your very own husband took his time walking over to your door.

Those cowboy boots of his crunched on the gravel of the side of the road, and you really couldn’t help but admire how good he looked in those sunglasses of his, cigarette poking out of the corner of his mouth.

“License and registration, ma’am.” He said, voice deep deep deep, the kind of voice that made you weak for him.

“Honey? What are you doing out here?” You asked, slightly confused.

“That’s Detective Zimmerman to you.” He licked his teeth.

You knew what game he was playing, you knew. He knew you knew.

You wanted to be difficult.

“Is Jimmy with you?” You asked, craning your neck around to peer through the windshield of the car behind you, the lights stopped flashing for now. Sure enough, there was your friend, looking as amused as could be. “Hey Jim!”

“Hi (Y/N)!” He shouted back at you, and you could hear the laugh in his voice.

Flip tapped on the side view mirror to capture your attention again, and you gave it with a raised eyebrow.

“Ma’am, do you know how fast you were speeding?” Flip asked, face perfectly stoic, perfectly professional.

Your man was nothing if not professional.

“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me.” You rolled your eyes, being a brat, being difficult, knowing you’d pay for it, knowing he’d pay for this.

“I’m perfectly serious.” He said, and there it was – the barest hint of a smirk, of a smile, as he sucked the last of the cigarette down, as he snuffed it out between his heel and the coarse gravel below.

His tone brooked no argument, so like a good, law-abiding citizen, you fished out your license and registration, handed it over to Flip who thanked you and took it back to his cop car.

Jimmy was shaking his head fondly when Flip returned, pretended to run it through the system, just to stall for time and annoy you even more. Hopefully you’d be feisty, you’d be aggravated enough to punish him later for it.

“You’re going to be in so much trouble, Zimmerman.” Jimmy laughed, smoked his own cigarette.

Flip didn’t tell him that that was the whole point.

“Drive her car back home?” He said instead, and Jimmy just shook his head again.

“Sure thing.” Jimmy replied, the two of them walking back to your car.

You had gotten out of the car in the meantime, had turned it off and was twirling the keys around your finger. This wasn’t the first time he had pulled a stunt like this, not even close. You knew what you were in for, and you couldn’t help the fluttering in your stomach.

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to bring you down to the station, there’s a warrant out for your arrest.” Flip said with mock disappointment.

“Is that so?” You asked, crossing your arms.

“Yep.” Flip nodded, “Being too goddamned beautiful. Can’t have a menace like that running loose on the streets.” And there it was, there was that big smug fucking grin that had you rolling your eyes, had you handing your keys over to Jimmy, had you grow wet between your legs.

“There’s ice cream in the trunk Jimmy, could you put it in the freezer for me?” You asked sweetly, innocently, as Flip’s hands already started roaming over your sides, as he already started pulling you towards him, right there off the interstate.

“Yes ma’am, you two have fun.” Jimmy winked, getting into the car and driving away.

As soon as he was out of sight and there were still no cars coming in either direction, Flip was on you, big hands crushing your arms and pulling you to the cop car.

“Flip I’m going to kill you!” You laughed, because he was ridiculous, because he was so fucking handsome, was going to treat you so right, you just knew it.

“Threatening an officer? Now you’re in real trouble.” He said, gripping your jaw, bringing you in for a deep wet sloppy kiss.

“What are you gonna do to me?” You asked once he pulled away, taking your breath with him. 

He dipped his big thumb into your mouth, and you sucked on it, entirely too suggestively, right there out in the open where anyone could drive by and see.

“I haven’t decided yet. Hands behind your back.” He ordered.

You figured you’d let him have this, let him have you like this. At least for now.

You turned around, leaned your tits against the cop car and crossed your wrists. He cuffed you tight, tight enough that it was going to chafe, tight enough that you wouldn’t be able to break free. He pressed himself right up against you as he did it, as he slowly clicked the metal into place, and you could feel his cock grinding against your ass.

He sat you in the back of the cop car, locked the doors and drove down the main road a ways before pulling off to a lesser known path, one that wound the two of you up in a nice clearing just on the outskirts of the big mountain trails.

The clearing was beautiful, tall wild grasses and flowers lining the road, old asphalt bleached from the sun that came with the summer months. You were going to get dicked down, you knew that, knew it as you pushed your chest out, tried to make yourself look good. 

“My husband’s gonna be looking for me.” You said with a glimmer in your eye as he parked the car.

“Oh yeah? He a big guy?” He asked you, meeting your gaze through the rearview mirror. He didn’t look down at his hands as they undid his belt, he didn’t need to, he’s done it a hundred times.

You licked your lips.

“Mhm, real big. Strong. Knows how to shoot.” You noded, and he huffed a laugh at that, one that turns into a groan.

You try and peer over the seat, try to get a glimpse of his cock, because you know he’s jerking off, you know. You can see it in the way his arm is moving, how his shoulders are tensing. You wish you could do it for him, fuck your way out of this speeding ticket.

“He take care of you?” He asked, breathy, and you nod, rubbing your thighs together.

That tone of his voice does shit to you, it’s the same tone he uses when he begs for you, when he pleads. You’re going to make him beg tonight, you decided, as he spits in his palm and tugs at his cock a little faster.

“Yeah he does. And he’s not gonna be too happy that I’m not home working on dinner.” You pointed out, making him laugh again.

“Maybe I’m hungry now.” He said, eyes dark with lust, face flushed.

“Are you?” You ask, and just like that, he’s out of the driver’s seat, out of the car.

He rounded on you, pulled the door open and yanks you out, shoves you roughly against the side of the car. He could fuck you on the hood, but that’s no fun, not when he’s got you cuffed like this.

He kicks your feet apart with those heavy boots, and you comply eagerly, spread them and stay still as his hands slowly slowly slowly push up your skirt, as they smooth over your ass. He pulls back the elastic waistband of your panties and lets it go, lets it snap harshly against your skin, and when you whine, he does it again.

“Flip,” You’re fluttering all over, your pussy so wet, aching, desperate to be touched.

He’s hungry, he said, and he wastes little time getting his fill as he drops to his knees behind you, yank your underwear down so it’s caught between your ankles as he eats you out from behind. He’s got fingers and tongue prodding at you, massaging you, sucking and biting and licking in a way that’s got your knees buckling.

Flip spits on your cunt, uses it as lube even though it’s not nearly enough. He withdraws his fingers to keep your legs pried open, grip tight on your thighs as he buried his face in your ass, as he fucked you with his mouth. His facial hair is harsh and stinging in all the right ways, it scrapes and scratches against your inner thighs and you’re drooling from both ends at the rough treatment.

It’s not enough, not nearly enough, and you tell him so.

“If you don’t shove that cock in me soon I’m gonna scream.” You warn, wrists straining against the cuffs as you try and reach for something to ground yourself with.

“You wouldn’t dare – ” He pulls back, scrambling up to clamp a hand over your mouth when you absolutely do dare, when you take in a deep breath and let out just the tiniest fraction of a second of a scream loose. “Shit (Y/N)!”

“Told you.” You grin, muffled against his hand.

He growls, holds your head down against the side of the car with one hand and frees his cock again with the other, belt and zipper clinking together from the fury behind it. A stunt like that could get you both caught, could lure someone, anyone, to the scene. Some poor hiker might just find you getting fucked blind, and then what would you do?

“Fine, you want to be a brat, be a brat.” He sucked his teeth, growls at you as he guides his cock into you, shoves it in roughly, so so rough. You’re going to be bruised by the end of this, you know that, you moan for it.

“Yes!” You gasp as he splits you on his dick, all ten inches of it forcing its way into you, barely giving you time to adjust.

His hips shove you up and up and up, until you’re up on your tippie toes, and you’re moaning these breathy little whimpers, unable to move, can’t go anywhere with how he’s got you pinned to the side of the car, right out in the open clearing, right there. 

He fucks into you fast, balls slapping your ass, and he wants to see your tits but he can’t, and that pisses him off.

“God you’re fucking filthy.” He hisses, seethes as you push back against him, meeting each of his thrusts in time.

“Pot calling the kettle black, c’mon detective, fuck me like you mean it.” You can’t help but laugh, tease, always teasing.

He grabs a hold of your hair and hauls you off the side of the car for a moment, before dropping you down onto the backseat inside the car. It’s easier to fuck you like this, easier for you to take his cock, and you’re moaning loud into the leather upholstery, hands grasping at nothing from where they’re bound behind your back. 

You love being manhandled like this, love love love it, love it when he smacks you hard, the back of your thighs stinging from the blow. He does it again, watching as big red welts form, welts that are only going to chafe as he fucks you with his jeans still on his hips. 

He bends himself over you, draped himself across your whole back. He covers your mouth with one hand and shoves some fingers down your throat, holds your pelvis down with the other, holds you in place as he rails you so hard that the shocks squeak.

“You gotta be quiet, be quiet for me, be good.” He says over and over, low in your ear.

Your hair is clinging to the sweat on your face, and you’re clenching so tight around him that he knows he’s going to come soon, he knows he will. He doesn’t give a shit, he knows he’ll come again later after his shift, knows you’ll punish him for taking control like this.

“Flip – honey please, please please please.” You’re muffled against his hand, drooling all over his fingers, crying now, because of course you are, because it’s too much, it’s overwhelming, it’s so fucking good.

He pets your hair back and kisses your neck, grinds his cock into you slowly, drags it against your gspot again and again and again.

“Shh, shh, be good. My good girl, c’mon.” He whispers, licks at your cheek, bites your ear. “You can take it, you can take me.” 

You’re pressing your sweat and tears into the leather and he wants to make you lick it up, but you do without even being told, wanting to be good for him.

He yanks your head up by your hair and fucks you until he’s coming, until he can feel you gush on his cock and you’re coming too, until the both of you are panting and your throats are dry dry dry from all the gasps you’ve pulled from each other’s throats.

 When you’ve both calmed down, Flip is quick to un-do the cuffs around your wrists. He kisses them, soothes them with massaging hands, lavishes love and apologies into the skin there. You let him, let him pull out of you and turn you over, let him fuck the come that’s spilled out back into you with callused fingers.

“You’re lucky we didn’t get caught.” You said, a big grin creeping up on your face.

He stuck his fingers into your mouth and you sucked them clean, and only once they were clean did he go back to carefully righting your clothes, fixing your hair, like you were both at home and not in the back seat of some cop car in the middle of a clearing off the interstate.

“Let’s get you home.” He said, ignoring you, making you roll your eyes and swat at his shoulder.

“Whose car is this anyway?” You asked, suddenly terribly curious as to whose property you just defiled in such a dirty way.

“Trapp’s. He’s sick, me and Jimmy were bringing it to the station for him.” Flip explained, hauling you out of the backseat and opening the passenger door for you like the gentleman he was.

You only shook your head and sat primly in the car, buckling your seatbelt while he went around to sit in the driver’s seat, as he lit his cigarette and turned the car back on.

“You better go through a carwash before turning it in, you asshole.” You laughed, making him grin, because of course he would.

“Keep talking like that and I’ll add on to your speeding ticket.” He teased, and for a minute you thought he was just joking.  

“Wait, that ticket was real?” You asked all of a sudden, eyeing the little slip of paper in the cup-holder that had your name on it, literally.

He didn’t say anything as he pulled onto the main road, and it was all you could do but groan and let out an exasperated,

“Flip Zimmerman you’re a dead man!”

------------

Tagging some pals, lol sorry i just had to get this one out of my system!  @adamsnackdriver @dreamboatdriver @kylo-renne @callmehopeless @kyloxfem @formerly-anonhamster @thepilotanon @solotriplets   @fullofbees @spinebarrel @bourbonboredom @driverficarchive @rosalynbair @redhairedfeistynerd @glitzescape @adamsnacc-kler  @ladygrey03 @venusianmaiden marvelous-blog-221 @edwardseyelashes @softcrybabykid @tinyplanet-explorers

[reverseblackholeofwords]

Do’s And Don'ts With A Reunited Legion, Part 3

AKA This is the fifth closet Legion popped into, because the first four were occupied by Anti, Bim, Sharper and Ollie respectively. In all seriousness, I originally planned for this story to be very angst-filled with a side heaping of the noose dealio that @ferociousfangirlofmanyfandoms wrote. Lucky for you folks, that never made it in, but I’m saving it on the back-burner for the next angst surprise. Also, since this is a double whammy with a second submission, the next piece is not angsty! Have fun.

…

Eric hadn’t spent as much time with Legion as he wanted to when they got back, considering the fact that Mare stayed rather close to them. And despite the ghost’s apparent friendliness, Eric was still pretty terrified of him.

That wasn’t to say that he had avoided Legion. They would spend small moments together, usually with him knitting and them watching intently while they sorted out the yarn. Or talking in soft voices when headaches came along, each respectful of the other’s pain. One time he even cooked with them, and it’s then that he learned Legion had a selective range of cooking abilities and that they were terrible when it came to high-concentration cooking. Like making sure the pot didn’t boil over. At least there wasn’t a fire.

When he looked back on this, Eric had no real idea why he was in that particular hallway. It was nearing the evening, and the slowly falling sun casted distorted shadows through the window panes. Some of the trees helped to give each shadow it’s own shape, but they were light enough to be rendered separate from Dark or the Void’s signatures. Eric remembered the sensation of warmth against his skin, probably falsely conjured up in his own subconscious, but it felt lovely. The air was tranquil and there was no booming floor, rattling doors or even a groan of defeat (those were caused by the ‘old folks’, mainly Dark, Phantom, Mad, and Google). Just blissful quiet.

…And the barely noticeable hiccup that came right after a long, hard wail from sobbing.

What?

Eric wasn’t one for confrontation, and if this were any other time and any other place, he would’ve ran off to grab his Dad or most anyone else for backup. But with the peace of the previous moment still within him and a sense of curiosity that had begun blooming again (once he moved here), he wanted to see what was happening. Of course he knew that sound, he had sounded like that many times in the past, usually on the cusp of or already into a full blown panic attack. So to hear someone else sounding like that, well, loneliness wasn’t good for situations like that. He could help? Right?

He moved slower to trace the sound, and he eventually got to a plain looking door, no label to it. Probably a broom closet or something. A perfect place for someone having a panic attack.

Personally, he preferred the closets on the ground floor.

Don’t think like that. He scolded himself, before taking a deep breath in, trying to instill his confidence before raising a fist to knock against the door. The wavelengths shattered the silence, canceling out all other thoughts and sounds. Including the weak gasps.

“H-h-hello? Uh-um, an-anyone th-there?” Nothing greeted his question, and he began to wonder if he was hearing something. But that sound was so accurate…? “Its-s-s  Eric-c?”

hic

There it was again. The barely perceptible sob. “I-I’m com-m-ming in? No-no, I’m coming i-in.” He grasped the handle and tried to turn it, but found it was locked under his grip. His fingers were already trembling, and he had to take another breath to try and steady them. “Cou-could you open t-t-the d-door?”

“No,” The voice took him by surprise, but he recovered once he realized who hid beyond his reach, separated by an oaken wall.

“L-L-Legion?”  Oh goodness, this wasn’t good. He had yet to see them hurting like this, besides when they had first come back from that place, when they had been with that scary man. He could remember those moments when the Actor was in the house, the way the terror of his presence constricted his throat and his lungs. And those visits were short, lasted fifteen minutes at most. Legion was with him for weeks. Stuck beside him with no escape.

Eric knew he wouldn’t have made it, and standing outside this door, it finally struck him that Legion couldn’t have gone through all that unscathed. They had to have been hurt too. And now, now maybe they were working through it.

“L-Legion,” He started, slowly settling himself onto the floor beside the door, taking time to lay his prosthetics against the carpet. “Legion, I-I’m here. An-and if y-you need me o-or you wa-wanta talk about it-t, I-I’m here. You-you’re not al-alone.  N-n-not anymore.” He settled himself beside the door and waited, letting the silence settle within the hall. Letting the fading sunlight warm his skin. Letting himself hope that his presence in the hall would be enough for Legion.

Legion, that silly ‘kid’ who knew more than they let on, who held in their eyes ages of knowledge that betrayed their form. Eric saw them as an older sibling, playful and confident of themselves, always encouraging what he wanted to do and serious in their promises. Host’s kid, the one that he knew the older man would fight for. Just like his Dad.

And wasn’t that something amazing? That he had a real Dad now. And that Legion had a Dad too. They both had someone that loved and protected them, that didn’t want anything from them. It still took Eric by surprise sometimes…

“Eric?” The voices asked hesitantly from the wood, speaking through the crack between the frame and the door itself. Eric shook himself out of his musing, turning his head so that his ear was beside the crack. He wasn’t sure why there were multiple voices, unless this was what Legion meant when they said they weren’t alone upstairs. 

“L-Legion?”

“We’re sorry. For keeping you here. We’re… we’re fine.” That was a lie, and he knew that both of them knew it. And well, he wasn’t going to be dissuaded that easily this time.

“It-it’s fine. Hon-n-nestly Le-Legion. I g-g-get it. S-s-sometimes-s you need to b-b-be alone. S-sort through it-t. Y-ya know?” There was a weak laugh from the crack, a hollow laugh.

“Never really alone. Not with so many of us fighting. To be heard, to say Something. To be alive in us.” There was a pause before they continued, their voices tampering down into one again, even if there was the slightest reverb to it. “We were beginning to lose it, and we didn’t want to scare anyone. We get, scary when we’re losing it. Didn’t want to worry Dad or Mare. Just… just needed to breathe again. Breathe without scaring anyone.”

“A cl-closets-s nice l-like that.” Eric said, trying to keep his voice steady. “S-small to k-keep the w-world from cl-closing in o-on you. Its secluded, q-quiet and m-makes you b-big.”

“Yeah, I guess a closet is ideal. Bright side of things.” There was some shuffling, and beside Eric the lock popped open. “You can come in, if, if you want?” The nervousness in their voice was obvious, but they were in good company. Eric was always in a state of nervousness.

“Sure,” He reached up and grasped the handle, turning it with ease this time. He gave it a gentle tug and opened a crack, letting enough fading sunlight in to illuminate the figure in the little room. Legion was bracing themselves against two shelves, their hair falling in messy, tangled waves around their head. The hood hung like a deflated balloon on their shoulder, and the cloak had stretched to cover all of their body. Like a giant blanket. Protective and cuddly.

“Nice place y-you got.” Legion titled their head, their eyes lighting up despite the redness that tainted them and the puffiness of their skin.

“Prime real estate.” Eric pulled himself in, opening the door wider to paint Legion in the last rays of orange light. They glowed radiantly, like something out of folklore. “Eric, you sure you aren’t an angel?”

“Huh? What d’ya m-mean?” They grinned.

“The light is a halo around you. You look like an angel.” He blushed, rubbing the back of his head.

“Th-thanks!” He settled beside them and they stared out the top of the window, holding hands up to keep the bottom rays from blinding them.

“Makes us think of that time we tried to convince everyone Dark was a vampire in the Retro.” Eric turned to them.

“What?”

“Oh, that story’s great. Okay, so, it was right after Dark over in the last universe had kinda turned over a new leaf and we wanted to give him a proper ‘welcome back.’ So, first we rigged up this giant spotlight with Wilford’s help…”

Submitted by: @englishbreakfastandquills​

*to the tune of John Mulaney’s Monkey Man joke* Babey, babey, babey man

[forgedwild-arch]

𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑹𝑨𝑪𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝑺𝑯𝑬𝑬𝑻.

repost, don’t reblog

basics !

FULL NAME. August Wesley Wilder NICKNAME. Gus. Gus the Grizzly. GENDER. Cis-Male (He/Him) HEIGHT. 6′9 AGE. unknown, physically appears around 55-60 years old. ZODIAC. taurus sun / libra moon / virgo rising. earth sign dominant chart babey!! SPOKEN LANGUAGES. fluent English, Spanish, and French. has picked up a little Dakota-Siouan from frequent run-ins with the Ghost Nation over the years. he’s not really fluent in it, just knows enough to talk himself out of trouble lmao.

physical characteristics !

HAIR COLOR. salt and pepper grey, with natural black undertones.  EYE COLOR. light hazel that fade to a deep forest green around the edge of the iris (central heterochromia) in both eyes. SKIN TONE. he’s white but he’s very sun-weathered and darkly tanned, with lots of sun spots and freckles all over his body. BODY TYPE. broad, big, bold and bear-ish. just the dictionary definition of a Gentle Giant. well, mostly gentle unless pushed. ACCENT. southern appalachian drawl. VOICE. deep, husky, and gravelly yet nothing short of soothing. his voice claim is Colter Wall. DOMINANT HAND. he’s ambidextrous! POSTURE. Gus is always generally seen standing tall and proud. he’s definitely a man who’s comfortable in his body, and the stark juxtaposition of his formidable physique and utterly gentle nature often catches the townsfolk and westworld guests by surprise.  SCARS. deep, jagged scars that run diagonally across his back and over his biceps. supposedly a bear gave him the scars when he fought one off a young boy. in reality, he fought a guest off one of the teenage hosts in one of his first loops, and said guest struck August down with a searing hot fire poker from his forge while the young android ran for safety. that was the first and last time Gus was ever killed during his loop, and he has rarely been updated since. TATTOOS. he has some beautifully intricate tattoo sleeves on both arms, each image representing one of his favorite western tall tales that he often retells to his forge guests (especially crowds of kids). Gus actually gave himself the tattoos to hide the scars on his arms (the ones he could reach anyway), and the westworld writers never corrected the feature since they found them aesthetically pleasing and appropriate for his host role as both a blacksmith and self-proclaimed cultural mythologist / historian of the town.  MOST NOTICEABLE FEATURE(S). we stan a sweet old android with dimples and laugh lines. and those bright eyes of his visibly twinkle when he smiles!

childhood !

PLACE OF BIRTH. Technically? The Westworld Mesa Hub. But for his written backstory, his birthplace is unknown.   HOMETOWN. Hinton, West Virginia. a small railroad and coal town that sits at the edge of the New River in the Appalachian Mountains. when Gus was a boy, the town was essentially split between “trash” and “old money”. Gus came from the run-down side of the tracks, raised as a laboring blacksmith’s son, but he had a happy childhood. FIRST WORDS. “god dammit” after hearing his father shout it when he struck his thumb with a hammer. Almanzo found it hilarious, but also spent days trying to get the baby to say something else, ANYTHING else because the town population at the time was made of a few hundred southern baptists. suffice to say, Almanzo’s efforts were fruitless, and little baby August shouted it to the world in the middle of that sunday’s church service. his hometown community loved him dearly, but he’d always been labeled a little troublemaker ever since. and he was quite the prankster in his youth. all harmless of course. Gus hardly has a cruel bone in his body, but won his peer’s attentions and affections by being a bit of a class clown. SIBLINGS. none that he knows of. PARENTS. Almanzo “Manny” Wilder. should be noted that Almanzo is not August’s biological father. Gus was dropped at the door of his forge as a baby, and the identity of August’s biological family remains a complete mystery to both him and his caretaker. Almanzo played himself off as his biological dad for some time, but once Gus shot up to be about twice his old man’s size at age fifteen, well. he kind of figured it out on his own. he never resented Manny for it, though. in his mind, he is his real father. his only father. since he was the only one who was ever there for him. PARENTAL INVOLVEMENT.  Almanzo was a very attentive surrogate father and loved Gus with everything he had. Gus always had a sharp mind and vivid imagination as a kid, and Manny told him time and time again that his brain was far too big for a place like Hinton, always urging him to apply to those fancy universities along the coast or over in England and become a novelist or engineer. August looked up to his father however, and wanted to grow up to be just like him, and therefore was not only Almanzo’s child, but also his apprentice. He stayed in Hinton until Manny died from lung cancer, and by which August was about 25 years old or so and a freshly professional smith. He took over the family business, sought to pave his own way out west, and has been tending to the needs of the people in Sweetwater ever since.

adult life !

OCCUPATION. a blacksmith and self-proclaimed “cultural mythologist”. fancy way of saying he really loves to wow kids with the tall tales of the west. CURRENT RESIDENCE. his forge that sits on the edge of town. CLOSE FRIENDS. well he spends a lot of time with his two pets, Teddy Bear and Sundance Kid. they’re about the closest friends he has. oh he cares about the other hosts of Sweetwater, dearly! and he craves human connection something fierce. but his work (and his emotional walls) keeps him a bit too busy to really... dive deep in any of those friendships. sadly. RELATIONSHIP STATUS. single, although was married to @forgedwest​ in a past loop. FINANCIAL STATUS. he’s definitely not filthy rich, but growing up poor taught him to be good with his money and while he doesn’t have a luxurious life by any means, he has all he needs. lower class but not at all bothered by it.  DRIVER’S LICENSE. N/A. CRIMINAL RECORD. a few bar fights, but he was never guilty of starting them. just ending them.  VICES. if you ask August, he’ll say he sleeps in just a little too long on Sunday mornings, rolling and smoking hashish to unwind. if you ask me, i say don’t buy him more than three amaretto sours if you wanna have a drink with him. he can generally control himself and hold his liquor, but he can get to a point where he won’t stop lmao. luckily, he’s a happy drunk. also enjoys cigars, but smokes them more for celebration of special occasions. 

sex and romance !

SEXUAL ORIENTATION. bisexual ROMANTIC ORIENTATION. biromantic  PREFERRED EMOTIONAL ROLE. submissive  |  dominant  |  switch   PREFERRED SEXUAL ROLE. Submissive  |  dominant  |  switch ( he’s primarily a service top ) LIBIDO. average, i guess? i wouldn’t say his libido is anything insane, otherwise he’d REALLY be suffering being the lonely bachelor he is lmao. but he likes sex! TURN ONS. he loves a good sense of humor and has a weak spot for well-meaning troublemakers  TURN OFFS. people who take advantage of others. that’s a broad category, but it’s a personal thing. LOVE LANGUAGE. gift-giving, physical intimacy, protection and quality time! he’s not so good at expressing his feelings with words, but you will absolutely know if he fancies you because his actions will show it. you will NEVER wonder about his intentions. the old boy wears his heart on his sleeve. RELATIONSHIP TENDENCIES. despite how obviously loving he is, August has a tendency to assume people don’t want to be with him. one could argue it’s likely rooted in an abandonment issue of some kind. Almanzo was a plenty attentive and very caring dad, but the knowledge that one was orphaned and dropped off on someone’s front step is would be a little jarring when just about anyone hears it. though it’s likely less so much that, and more so how his peers in school were downright TERRIFIED him just because of his intimidating physique alone (despite his kind nature). he was taken advantage of a lot in his youth due to just how naturally people pleasing he can be to compensate for his scary appearance, and his kindness was therefore mistaken often for stupidity. its a compulsion that he’s gotten better about controlling as he grew older, and is now much more discerning re: who deserves the clothes off his back. but little insecurities regarding it remains, and as such his assumption that no one harbors affections for him has become a self-fulfilling prophecy. August is very sweet and outgoing, plenty handsome, great with kids and would make a very loving husband and lifetime best friend! but he doesn’t exactly make himself romantically available.

miscellaneous !

CHARACTER’S THEME SONG. “ take me home, country roads ” by john denver. shocker, i know. HOBBIES TO PASS TIME. he’s a blacksmith by occupation, but August can make just about anything with any material you can think of. he’s a jack of all trades type, and spends a lot of his rare spare time gardening, sketching while he’s people-watching, writing stories, blowing glass, and creating little animals and character figurines from his stories out of hide / wood/ metal. the latter are gifts that he gives to any young park guests who come to the forge. he also likes playing his guitar or banjo and singing to himself on warm summer nights. MENTAL ILLNESSES. i mean. everything truly traumatic that ever happened to him was basically wiped clean from his slate so u kno. none. for now lmfao.  PHYSICAL ILLNESSES. N/A. LEFT OR RIGHT BRAINED. right-brained, i guess. he can be plenty logical, but he’s definitely a creative type!  FEARS. there is a Vague Fear that he will die alone but it’s not pertinent enough to cause him a lot of anxiety. because he’s generally pretty independent. more so, it’s just a source of intense longing when he’s got a crush, but then he never actually acts on it. also, he’s got a bit of a fear of vulnerability. mostly because his kindness has been used against him plenty and no, it has not made him any less kind, but he doesn’t want that kindness tied into real emotional potency and then turned against him. vulnerability and intimacy also come with the pre-conceived knowledge of loss, because relationships ( be they romantic, friendships, family etc ) either end in break ups or death. and yes, it’s better to have loved and lost than never loved at all, but that doesn’t make August’s unease re: loss any less real. SELF CONFIDENCE LEVEL. hmmm. i’ll say about an 6 or 7 out of 10? he’s plenty sure of himself and his abilities, he just keeps himself humble like the well-mannered mountain boy he is. VULNERABILITIES. best way to hurt him is to strike anyone close to him. cares WAY MORE about others. though on a kind of....emotional note? personal note? idk. he’s quite aware of how he’s perceived to be a bit “simple-minded” all due to his accent. it’s something that Gus will get defensive about if you poke at him for it. not out of pride, but out of love for the people and culture from where he hails. he LOVES Appalachia deeply, and while he admires the west for all of its available adventure and promise, the people of the Blue Ridge Mountains remain the kindest he’s ever known. don’t talk bad about them, he’ll be quick to knock you into next tuesday. 

tagged by: @noiseofthunder​​ thank u grunk u always tag me in the Quality Shit (n this really helped me finally flesh some character basics out) tagging:  @forgedwest​ bc i’m the worst friend n force erin to do every dash game ever. also @copiesofme​​ @defactomatriarch​ @bountyman​ & thieves are valid.

[deepwoundsandfadedscars]

can I request something from the ‘bad things happening’ bingo where Diego is hiding an injury of some sort and everyone finds out and takes care of him? (could be a broken rib that leads to a punctured lung, fill up two of those squares babey but idk do whatever you feel) just read the manhandling one and it was wicked good :)

Of the three tropes you mention I only actually have one, which is punctured lung 😆 so that's the one I'll be doing (with the other tropes too, don't worry, I just can't claim multiple squares for one story and I don't actually have broken ribs or hiding an injury on my board. I have "doesn't realize they've been injured") Thanks for the request and thank you so much for reading the last one too!

_____-----_____

Improvised weapons were cheating, Diego decided, when used by the enemies at least. He wasn't afraid of throwing around a broken bottle or two, but the huge guy rivaling Luther's size who ripped a pipe right off the wall? That was low.

Diego had the advantage of being quicker at least, bobbing and weaving, throwing blades left and right, but the big guy was hardy. Two blades stuck from his shoulder and another in his forearm, the arm holding the pipe was starting to drop and Diego took the opportunity to dart in and get a few good hits on his face.

The weakness was a deception, before Diego could properly block it the pipe was coming in hard, smashing into the left side of his chest. He roared, anger and pain bubbling up the back of his throat as he grabbed the guys neck, launching himself upwards to smash the top of his head into his opponents nose. There was a sickening crunch and the big guy fell, Diego going down with him to land sitting on his chest.

He sat there gasping, trying to catch his breath. A sharp shock of pain shot up his chest and he pressed a hand to it with a wince before flopping onto his shoulder, rolling to the side to get off the big guy and lay on his back next to him. His hand landed on something cold, the pipe the big guy used against him.

"Cheater," he muttered as he hurled the pipe into the corner.

Loud footsteps echoed in the hallway before Luther charged into the room, Klaus on his heels.

"There you are," Klaus gasped, a sheen of sweat on his forehead, as though he'd ran a marathon to get there. "How did uh- how did this all go?" He asked, pointing around the room with a finger, including Diego and the big guy.

"Peachy," Diego said, grasping Luther's offered hand and hoisting him to his feet. He quietly hissed between his teeth, but Luther heard it.

"You ok?"

"What? Yeah, I'm fine. Where's everyone else, let's get out of here," he said quickly, leading the way out of the room.

____----____

An hour later everyone was back home at the Academy, some more reluctantly than others, but for now they were gathered in the living room. Luther was wearing a hole in the ground as he paced back and forth across the floor going on about how everyone could have done better today, but it fell on deaf ears. Klaus was draped over the couch, waving his fingers around as though orchestrating a tiny choir only he could see, Allison leaned against the bar quietly judging Five as he mixed himself an oversized martini from the cabinet. Diego sat in a chair against the wall, unnoticed by the rest.

He was stubborn. He knew that, everyone else knew that, but there was no way he was going to admit anything was wrong. His chest was tight and it only got worse when he tried to take a deeper breath. No one was paying any attention to him, but he knew if they glanced over they would probably see how pale he'd turned.

He coughed and the pain ratcheted up another notch, chest tightening like a vice and his breath coming in short gasps. His vision dimmed around the edges and he looked up at his family, despair washing over him. Allison was closest with her back to him and he whispered her name before everything went black.

____----____

"Allison."

It was so quiet she almost didn't hear it, but she glanced over her shoulder to see where it came from. She turned just in time to see Diego lean forward, his hand reaching towards her and then his eyes roll back. She jumped forward and he collapsed into her arms, his face on her shoulder where she could feel his wheezing breath against her throat as she fell to her knees under his weight. "Guys!"

Luther was there in an instant, taking their brother out of her arms and rushing towards the medical room with a holler at Klaus to go get Mom. Five disappeared from behind the bar, likely getting to the medical room before everyone else.

Allison hurried behind Luther, just barely clutching onto Diego's limp hand that dangled under Luther's arm. Her stomach did flips as she looked at his face cradled in the crook of Luther's elbow. His face was too pale, his lips too blue. His breath whistled deep in his chest.

Luther laid Diego on the gurney in the medical room, jostling a cough from him and his eyes shot open with a harsh gasp. His wide eyes fluttered around, taking in the change of location and who gathered around him. Allison stood to his right, squeezing his hand and leaning close to talk calmly.

"Hey, it's ok Diego, we got you." She said with a smile as Grace pushed Luther to the side so she could get close. "Look, Mom's here, she's going to figure out what's wrong."

"Ribs," Diego gasped out, raising his shaky left hand towards his torso.

Grace nodded firmly, already deducing what was wrong and moving quickly as she ripped his shirt open. Allison gasped as Diego's chest was revealed, a dark red bruise already blooming across the left side from sternum to armpit. She looked up at her brothers. Luther looked just as shocked as she was, Klaus was leaning back and hissing in sympathy while Five's lips were pressed into a tight line. "Did he say anything about this to you guys?"

They all shook their heads and her attention was dragged back to Diego as he squeezed her hand. "Didn't- didn't want anyone- to- to worry."

"Be quiet dear," Grace said softly, gathering stuff from the table next to her.

"Diego, what the hell, why shouldn't we have worried, this is bad!"

"I'm- sorry," he gasped.

"Please be quiet, Diego dear," Grace said, turning back to him, a large needle cradled in her fingers. Diego's eyes went wide and a strangled noise came from his throat as his hand went limp in Allison's, his eyes rolling back in his head for the second time today.

"Some of you might not want to watch," was the only warning they got before Grace plunged the needle into Diego's chest. A whoosh of air could be heard and Allison held her breath as Diego's chest relaxed. He gasped in a huge breath and she sighed in relief, quietly laughing as she heard everyone else in the room do the same.

"Is that all? Will he be ok?" Luther asked Grace.

"I'll need to look him over more, but he can breath at least," she said with a smile, fixing an oxygen mask over Diego's nose and mouth. "He'll need to stay here at the Academy and take it easy for a few weeks so I can keep an eye on him and make sure this doesn't happen again, but he'll be ok."

As if on cue, Diego's eyes blinked open, rolling tiredly around in their sockets. He slowly focused on Allison as she leaned over him.

"Hey, there you are," she said with a smile. "Is that easier to breathe?"

He closed his eyes and nodded. The mask fogged up as he muttered something, too quiet to be heard.

"What was that?" She asked, leaning closer. He raised his voice a bit so she could hear him.

"Hate needles."

She smiled again, a small laugh slipping out. "Yeah man, you're a big baby. Go back to sleep, we'll take care of you."

He pinched the back of her hand, but smiled weakly before letting his eyes drift closed again.