still living in this glory

Can we just take a moment to clap for Jyou Kido please?

This guy thinks about all of his friends and cares about wanting to make sure they all get some food and rest and a decent and safe place to sleep. Then without a second thought he dive bombs a guy because Kido has no sense of self preservation, not when someone is messing with his kids. And the way he catches Sora, damn girl, forget about Yamato and Taichi, Jyou’s the one every girl and Takeru should be chasing.

Break Part Two

Break Part Two

Lance Tucker

Warnings: sex, unprotected sex, oral sex, swearing

Tags: @littlevelvethearts @hoepalace @anitavalija @jesslovesfandom @dokuroskull23 @angelsdeadromance @potterhead7656 @breakingsupernaturlbad101 @sebastian-stans-thighs @buckysteetime @casandcaffrey @thatbandchick39 @insickopedia @carabarnes13 @petals-overdaisies @canadiancoven @laurenxyz @hoopluh @cassandralallorona @spiritassassins


Part One

Part Three

Part Four



Lance isn’t entirely sure how he found himself in this position, this had never happened to him. He’d trained a few girls in the past and never once had such an issue.

That issue being that Lance was incredibly, absolutely, painfully rock fucking hard.

And, well, the thin material of his track pants wasn’t doing a damn thing to cover it up. He couldn’t even put a hand over it because both of his were being used to rub kinks out of Y/N’s back.

He’s not sure what caused it, having multiple reasons why it could’ve happened. It could’ve been the sports bra he picked was pushing her breasts out, or how the shorts she wore were up her ass. But, he thinks it’s definitely the fact that he’s seated on the round of her ass, driving his thumbs into her skin.

There’s a lot of reasons as to why he’s uncomfortably hard. Every slight brush against his crotch when he’d move, every sense of friction against his pants - his cock was taking it all in and pulsing even harder with every touch.

It really didn’t help when Y/N would let out a soft moan whenever he hit the right area. Or when she’d wiggle into his touch, silently pleading for more. Or, when she’d look back at him and smile.

Damn, that smile did things to him that he never even knew could happen.

“You need to get loose. I’m not going to be able to rub out your back halfway through your routine when you make it to the Olympics.” Lance sniffs, hips shifting so he can lean forward and reach her shoulder blade.

She hums, lifting her foot up behind him. “Maybe not halfway through, but before would be great.” She digs her head into the mat below her, sighing when he hits a particularly tense muscle.

He can’t help it when his mind races to thought of how she’d look under him, undressed and begging. If he had his way with her she’s be so entirely fucked out that she wouldn’t walk for the next few days.

“Alright, what else hurts?” He asks, clapping his hands together to get her attention.

“Lower back.” She groans, eyes clenching when she adjusts her hips below him. She brings a hand behind her, pointing to the lowest dip of her back before the arch of her ass. 

Lance nods, blinking rapidly. He brings his hands down again, rubbing at the bare skin between her bra and her shorts. The muscles are so wound together, he’s shocked that she was even able to complete half the routine. 

“When’s the last time you went to get stretched?” He asks, driving the pads of his thumbs into her skin.

She sighs, looking back at him. “Caleb stretched me out last night before I left the gym. Hope asked him to do a full body with me.”

Lance scowls, pushing her rising body back to the mat. “Caleb’s been here for two days, he isn’t allowed to touch you again. You understand me? Not going to allow some newby to fuck up my protege.” He seethes, feeling overwhelmed by the unreasonable anger rushing through him. “And Hope isn’t your coach, tell her to fuck off next time she tells you to do something.”

“She said you told her to have me do it.” She murmurs, placing her head on her forearms. “And that - oh!” Y/N’s body jolts up, pressure being released under Lance’s finger.

And shit, he would give everything (probably not everything but a decent amount of whatever) to hear her make that noise again.

“Right there?” He nudges, watching her head nod. He digs his fingers deeper into her muscles, pulling and pushing along them. “Don’t listen to anyone but me. Hope’s just jealous of you.”

“Well no shit. She’s still living in her glory days when she was America’s Sweetheart and she fucked you all the time. I can see where she’d be jealous.” Y/N sighs into the mat, wiggling in Lance’s hold.

He smirks down at her. “Is someone jealous that Hope got to fuck me? It was only a few times for fun, babe.” He hums, an amused look crossing Y/N’s features. 

“No, not really. Not at all, actually. Plus even if I was jealous, I could fuck you if I wanted to.” She huffs, moving her shoulder when he drags his hands back up her back.

Lance furrows his brows, a small frown on his lips. “What do you mean you could fuck me if you wanted to? I wouldn’t fuck you, you’re my athlete, I’m your coach. And I’m older than you.”

“As if that’s really stopping the raging hard-on you have pinned to my ass.” She scoffs, smiling up at him. He swallows, unaware of how much she could feel through his pants. 

He stands up, his lips tweaking up at the edges. “You didn’t say anything earlier? Did you enjoy feeling my cock pressed against your ass, or what?” His snarky nature comes out, covering the embarrassment he would have.

“Well I didn’t complain about it, did I? Plus I was getting a massage, why would I want that to stop?” Y/N brushes off her hands, chalk particles floating up in the air. “I’m just happy my ass got you hard.” She laughs.

Lance nods, looking at her fully. “You do have a huge ass.” He chuckles, walking around her to survey her body. She pats a hand on it, looking behind herself.

“Guys seem to like it so it can’t be as bad as you make it out to be.” She smirks, brushing some chalk off of the black material. Lance looks up at her, shaking his head.

“No more guys, no distractions. I need you focused on the Olympics, focused on the gold we’re going to win.” He snaps, feeling the unreasonable anger flowing through him again.

Y/N rolls her eyes, crossing her arms. “Aren’t you the one who told me I need to get fucked more often only 8 hours ago? What happened to getting loose, huh?” 

“I didn’t think sex was that big of a deal for you. Didn’t know you needed sex to live.” He smirks, sauntering around her. She shakes her head slowly, laughing at his words.

“I don’t need sex to live. But, while we’re on the topic - I fucking love sex. I think it’s quite great, if I do say so myself. So I’m going to have as much sex before, during and after the olympics as I want.” Y/N leans back, eyes on Lance.

He stays quiet for a moment. “Okay.” He says, watching her cock an eyebrow. “If you want sex so badly then fine, I’ll be the one to fuck you. No distractions means no distractions.”

“I’m not going to have sex with you.” She scoffs, her eyes unashamedly moving down to the bulge in his trackies. “You’re my coach. I’ll tell you about my sex life, I will not have you be part of it.”

Lance shrugs, stepping towards her. “I don’t know if you heard me right. I will be the one to fuck you. The only one to fuck you. The only one you’ll even think about fucking. Got it?”

He steps until his chest is pressed to hers, his head tilting down to look at her. Her eyebrows are furrowed together, annoyance crossing her features. “Got it, Coach.”

“Good. Back to the routine.” He swats at her ass, pointing at the uneven bars. She stands in the same position, looking at him without any emotion on her face. 

“No.” She defies, a hint of a smirk on her face. “I want to have sex. Now.”

He would’ve been taken aback if it wasn’t so damn early and if he wasn’t so fucking hard. So instead of speaking, he nods at her, shrugging his shoulders to let her know it was okay.

He actually liked the dominance in her voice. Of course he would never willingly let her take control, but the idea of it seemed fun enough for Lance to let her brashness off the hook.

He steps towards her again, knocking her a step back. “Then lets have sex.” He whispers, palming the back of her head until he pulls the ponytail out. Her hair flies around her body, giving Lance something to grab onto.

He tugs her head back, exposing her neck to him. Leaning down, Lance latches his teeth to her skin, nibbling softly - just enough to get a rise out of her, a whimper or something of the sort.

Her rise ends up being a hand in his hair, tugging him closer to her neck. Which absolutely fucks Lance to his core.

Lance only bites at her skin, not daring to press his lips against it just yet. He works his way up her neck, across her jaw at to her lips where he fans his breath across her smooth ones.

“How much do you want to have sex with me?” He grins, a shit eating grin really, that he knows will send her off with a sarcastic remark to slap in his face. But, he likes the sarcasm - it keeps him humble.

“Considering you’re the only person i can have sex with for a long time, very fucking much.” She breathes, her lips brushing against his with every word. “But, if I was allowed other options I wouldn’t want to fuck you at all.”

He smirks, holding in a laugh. “Them’s fightin’ words.” He snickers, sliding his hands around her to hold her waist. He pulls her into him, his cock resting on her stomach.

They stand there and stare at one another for a moment, but as the tension in the room rises, they both become aware of the growing situations in their pants.

“So, you gonna kiss me or not? Because I’m beyond okay getting myself off in the locker room shower.” She smirks, nudging her head up against his.

He chuckles, shaking his head ever so slightly. “I would’ve kissed you earlier but you never shut the fuck up.” 

“Says the one who has to have an entire monologue before even saying ‘good morning’.” 

“Fair enough.”

He bends down, catching her lips with his own. Its forceful and possessive, just shy of pain. It’s a bruising kiss, just molding to each other with no tongue involved. Lance lets out a small whimper when she tugs at his hair, pulling him even closer to her.

“Feisty, huh?” He chides, pulling away and tapping a hand on her bum. She shrugs, moving her hands to rest on his abs under his shirt. He knows where her hands are - exactly on the neckpiece of his medal.

He smirks inwardly at the knowledge, knowing he’ll be able to say some type of remark when his clothes come off.

He leans down again, pushing his lips into hers. This time he slots his tongue between her lips, licking his way into her mouth. She reciprocates the kiss, wrapping her arms around the back of his head.

She takes control for the moment, just enough time to push him back into a stack of mats, his back resting against it. 

“Wow.” He chuckles as she drops to her knees, placing her hands on his track pants. “Eager, are we now?”

Something changes inside of Y/N and fuck, Lance loves it.

She’s no longer fighting against him. Instead, she’s pulling out all the stops in order to show him exactly what she can do.

She rolls her fingers along the waistband of his pants before looking up at him from under her lashes. “Shirt.” She murmurs, beginning to pull the material down his legs.

Lance whips his hands to the bottom of his shirt, peeling it over his head and tossing it somewhere around the room. “Are you fucking serious?” She deadpans, putting her hands on his hips.

Lance smirks triumphantly, knowing she’s referring to the grand masterpiece painting his lower abdomen. “You asked me about it, you already knew I had it.” He shrugs.

“I thought it was a fucking joke. I also didn’t think it’d wrap around your cock. Are you really that materialistic as to get it near your dick?”

“Not materialistic, proud is the wo – oh – oh!” He’s cut off by Y/n placing the tip of his cock on her tongue. “Fuck.” He curses, palming the back of her head as she works her way down his cock with ease.

She suckles and licks at every ridge, pressing her thumbs along the pulsing vein at the base of his cock. 

She moves at an enticing speed and Lance can’t help but watch the way his cock disappears into her throat with every stroke. “Just like that, baby.”

“Shut the fuck up.” She pops of his cock, looking at him. “Ruining the fucking mood.” She mutters, licking her lips before diving back onto his cock.

“Feisty, feisty, feisty. Better watch your mouth.” Lance grins, rubbing a hand down her cheek to feel the hollow of it as she sucks on his dick, pulling him into the back of her throat.

She swallows around him, enjoying the little gasps and whimpers escaping his lisp every time she did a new move. “You’re quite good at this, huh?” He muses, chewing his bottom lip. “Might just have to cum in your mouth.”

“This isn’t about you, it’s about me. If anything, I should be the one to get off from some oral.” She smirks, stroking his cock in her small hand, twisting along the base. Her breath fans across his cock, causing it to twitch in her hand.

“Well baby, you’re the best I’ve ever had so far. So yeah, might have to cum in your mouth.” Lance smiles, lightly thrusting into her mouth, edging his hips from the mats behind him.

“Never heard that before.” She hums, stroking him. Lance peers down at her with a cocked eyebrow. “That I’m the best anyone’s ever had. The guys I sleep with just want half a blow job then some sex before they leave.”

“Well their fucked.” Lance groans, his head falling back against the mats. “So, so good.”

She takes him back into her mouth, sucking with some force this time.

“That’s it, just like that.” He moans, pushing hair from her eyes so he can look at her. “Fuck, that’s good. Keep doing that thing – fuck.”

He can’t help but swear when she does a particular twist-suck combo on his cock, her hands moving rapidly along the vein pulsating. She nuzzles him into her mouth so far that her lips curl around the base, sending a choked cough out of Lance’s mouth.

“Christ.” Lance purses from his lips when she swallows around him again, his tip tucked neatly in the back of her throat. He can feel the clenching of his stomach and he knows he’s closer than he’d like to be at the moment.

A shudder rolls up his spine, his fingers clasping along the mats behind him. His knuckles are turning white from the pressure. When her teeth rub against his length, he loses all control.

“So fucking close – ‘m gonna cum – like that, yeah.” He brushes another finger along her cheek, reveling in the feeling of his cock poking against the thin skin. She winks up at him, her cocky side taking over once again.

 He can honestly say that Y/N is by far the best sex partner he’s had, and he hasn’t even been inside of her yet. He used to think Hope was so great with her gymnastic moves but fuck, this girl had his cock all the way down her throat and she still managed to toss a sarcastic jab in there once in a while?

Yeah, she was the best he’d ever had.

Lance can’t even prep her for his orgasm, because when it comes, he’s blindsided. His hand slams down on the mats, eyes locked on Y/n’s mouth and teeth biting dangerously hard on his lips.

She manages to move back quick enough to avoid being drowned by a load of cum (which Lance will have to apologize about after he gains his footing again). She moves back to his tip, sucking on it as her hand drives up and down the skin.

Lance is a complete wreck above her, his body jolting in every way. He’s even shocked at how much cum he just poured into her mouth – enough so that it started spilling out the corners of her lips. 

But, just as he thought, she swallowed it all, with him in her mouth might he add, and threw a smile up at him two seconds later.

She stands, licking her plump and swollen lips. And Lance, well he’s utterly fucked out after that. He’s not even sure how he’s standing at the moment, let alone breathing.

When she steps closer, her thigh brushing against his overly-sensitive cock, that’s when Lance snaps back into the real world. 

“Welcome back, Coach.” Y/N teases, pressing small kisses to his neck, chewing on his skin.

“You’ve been holding out on me.” He chuckles, sucking in as much breath as he possibly can in order to get his head to stop spinning around the fucking room.

“You never asked what i could do with my mouth, so I technically wasn’t holding out on you.” She murmurs against his neck, biting harshly to create a dark mark that he won’t be able to cover up.

He nods, blinking the haze from his eyes. “Let’s take care of you now, doll.” It takes only a second for Lance to hook her legs around his hips, his body holding her up.

He’s able to get her sports bra off with ease, his mouth attacking her collar bones and the swell of her breasts as her fingers thread through his hair. He sucks marks on her skin, smirking at the final product.

He crouches down, laying her on her back against the floor. Running his hands along her stomach, he lowers himself down her body. After he gets her shorts and paints off, she spreads her legs for him and smirks.

“So fuckin’ wet.” And Lance is actually really amazed by the sheer glistening droplets that are clinging to her skin. He can feel his cock getting heavy at the sight.

He kisses his way down her thigh, pulling his fingers along her folds to spread her juices evenly. When Lance looks up he finds Y/N with her eyes closed, one hand on her breast and the other tangled in his hair.

God, his hair’s going to be a fucking mess after this.

He flattens his tongue along her clit, dragging the rough pad of his muscle along it to emit a whimper from her mouth. He does it again, also moving his fingers to her opening.

He knew from the first taste of her slick that he was completely enamored with her.

It didn’t take long for Lance to find himself lost in his job, his eyes closed and his fingers soothing their way inside of her as if it wasn’t his first time touching her body. Everything just felt so natural to him.

“Please, more.” She breathes, tugging at the roots of his hair. He reaches his free hand up to grip her breast, tugging at the nipple and running his callused fingers along it.

“Lance..” He likes it. Fuck does he like it. The way his name rolls of her tongue - he really fucking likes it.

Bucking her hips into his face, Y/N moans out for him. The noises she’s making sends a throbbing sensation throughout Lance and he’s sure he could cum just by the sounds she’s emitting.

“Taste so fucking good.” Lance mutters against her heat, pulling his fingers from inside of her. He brings his hand up to her mouth, watching as she encloses his digits in her warmth.

She sucks and licks along his fingers just as she did for his cock, something he wasn’t even sure he was expecting. He kisses he clit and crawls up her body, nipping at the skin along the way.

“Fuck me.” She whines, sending a fuck load of blood to his cock. Lance nods, pressing his lips against hers in a sloppy manner.

“You on the pill?” He breathes, not even caring if she was because his cock needs attention and it needs attention now. She just nods up at him, sucking his bottom lip into her mouth.

“Can you get on all fours for me, baby?” He grabs her hips, helping her to turn over. “Perfect. That’s it,..” He runs his hands down her ass, getting a handful of the plush area that’s been the center of his masturbation thoughts all week.

He’s happy when she dips her shoulders to the mattress, lifting her ass so far that the slope between her ass and her head is a huge curve.

Lance positions himself behind her, running his tip along the slick of her heat. “You ready?”

“Would you just fuck me? Sick of this damn commentary.” She smirks up at him, tossing a wink in there as well. 

He chuckles, slapping her ass. “Watch your fucking mouth.” She laughs at his words, wiggling her bum in the air.

Once he finds her hole, Lance sheaths himself entirely inside of her. He has to stop himself from moving because fuck, she was so warm and inviting and so, so tight.

“Fuck.” Lance groans, feeling the pulsing of her walls against his cock. She nods, moving her ass around to get him to move even an inch. Lance pulls out the whole way until just his tip is left inside, then plunges back into her at an alarming speed.

“Lance.” She prolongs his name as it tumbles from her lips, her head digging into the mat below them. He nods to himself, appreciating the way she chanted for him.

She felt fucking amazing around him. So warm and tight, making him want to nuzzle his cock inside of her and never pull out.

He places his thumbs in the divots at the base of her spine, using it to pull her back against his cock. He enjoys the way her ass looks whenever it bounces off his hips, rippling and smacking against his skin.

He smirks when her moans grow louder. Made him want to make as much noise as they possibly could. Made him was to have her scream his name so loud that every other guy will know to stay away.

“Feel good?” He leans down, placing his fingers against her clit and drawing fast circles with no particular rhythm other than that of getting her off before him.

She lets out a broken moan, her breathing becoming labored. “Fuck, fuck! Right there!” She gasps, her hands pulling at the mat below.

“So, so tight.” He groans, slamming into her with such force that he can feel the mat moving along the floor. He watches his cock glide in and out of her, glistening with her juices.

He angles his hips differently, nudging his cock against her furthest wall. “Lance! Oh, fuck. Coach Tucker..” She groans, her hips starting the shake from the pleasure.

He doesn’t stop, he couldn’t imagine stopping that this point anyway. He keeps swiveling his hips, rolling them into her to explore her. Lance leans down and sucks a mark on her shoulder blade, feeling her quake against him.

He ruts relentlessly into her, her moans bouncing off the walls of the gym. He didn’t care that it was around 3 in the morning and that she would have to sleep in tomorrow to catch up. She clearly didn’t care either.

“Fuck – fuck! Lance, fuck me!” She curses, clutching to the mat. He feels her stiffen against him before a wave of pleasure knocks her down. She whimpers and screams, shaking uncontrollably in his arms. 

She clenches hard around him, not allowing him to have any movement what-so-ever. She screams again, an echo of his name that bounds off the walls and circulates back to him.

And he is absolutely delighted by the sound.

It only takes a few more thrusts for the coil in his stomach to spring open, exploding inside of her. He paints her walls with stuttering hips and a dropped jaw.

“Well, that was better than expected.” Y/N chuckles breathlessly under him. Lance moves away, laying on the ground next to her so she could flip onto her back.

“Much better.” He agrees, lifting a hand to high five her. Their skin slaps against one another and Lance can’t help but grin.

love’s journey

*
i can’t say
i’m able to consistently
write beautifully

i merely hope
i’ve developed the ability
to detect, capture & reflect
without diminishment

any beautiful thoughts
encountered
on my journey to love.

**

a journey
can insinuate
with a single step,
a jog, a jaunt, literally
anything we want, as long
as we stop to listen for the song
& the scent of the roses, heaven-sent
along the way-sides, roadsides - trod outside,
felt inside - this royal ride upon the road
traveled less, but God bless, we’re still
able to live & attest to the storied fable
in all its glory - hallelujah, for the
clues we’ll imbue to the ones
who remain true to the
gain contained in this
brief refrain or
word trip, as
letters
d
r
i
p
for
you to
step gently upon;
don’t slip into silence yet,
before it’s gone - until you
come to grips with the lesson 
you’re here to get - of the beauty
encountered throughout your stages:
in prayers, songs, in person or
on pages, attending to the
ordinary magic of this
non-sage’s signals
without pretense,
a sensibility
& a sense 
of the immense
ability of the way
word sounds resound
& revolve, reverberate &
resolve relationships to the totality
with which we’re called to be involved
on the reality of the path, the
eternal, perennial math
in matrices of minds
pulsing toward our
hearts, provided
we’re kind
enough
to start,
drop the veneer
pretending we’re
tough, or too tender
to hear to whom to render 
our simple thoughts - because
we love - not because we ought  
& make the time & space each day
to grace the place, as grandmas say
because we’re blessed
to have our way,
one day more
until
beckons
that final,
great good night.

sleep tight!.
*
8/17 - lebuc - love’s journey

Give Me That Gold *Lance Tucker x Reader* NSFW

Originally posted by rikkisixx

Summary: You’re considered a ‘has been’ since winning a silver at Worlds, after always getting golds in previous competitions. You run into Lance, things get heated up and you score him on his sex.
Ratings: Mature Content (+18)-No oral, other than Lance finger fucking you! I tried to write acrobatic smut, didn’t go so well, so I kept it mildly average with a few weird positions. (I promise, the more comfortable I am with writing him, the more it will get better- I already have a series idea, if people are interested in me writing that?)

Note: First time ever writing Lance, I’ve seen the movie a handful of times and I am in no way, a good smut writer. So, this may be all types of bad. Forgive me if so. Such an original title. I don’t know what it is, I fucking love Lance, I love him more than Seb’s Bucky atm! God, I think it’s his cocky attitude but jfc I love it! I shouldn’t because he’s such a cunt, but I’d let him do all sorts of things. - Rosalee (please be nice! This may be shitty, so please go easy on me)


You walk into Amherst gym, a confidence in your step. It had been a while since you last stepped foot here, it hadn’t changed much, apart from the fact Pavleck’s gym was now owned by Hope. You dropped your duffle bag into the ladies changing rooms, pulling your hair into a tight but slightly messy bun and exiting to the actual gymnasium.

You pushed the doors open, the familiar gym coming into view. Balance beams and mats laid out, vaults and bars placed. It was like you had never left to Miami all those years ago, a few younger gymnasts practised with their coaches. You instantly recognised one of them, rolling your eyes instantly as soon as, you saw him. You had hoped you’d never see him, it would have seemed likely considering he’s a gold medalist and they tend to get too big for their sweats. You’d know since from the age of 4 you had been winning golds, till you got your first silver, ever.

It was obviously, better than Hope’s bronze which actually made her a celebrity, much to the despise of Lance. Lance Tucker, the obnoxiously arrogant, sleaze ball. He basically dripped egotistical, cocky dick. You hated him, you’d still hate him even if he didn’t win that gold and parade it around but his personality still stood. In fact, winning gave him a god-complex with every shiny gold medal, it was just another pat on the behind for his ego. It irked you.

Since you got your silver it’s like all your credibility went down, you made it to the big leagues and leave with a silver rather than a usual gold, suddenly you’re the laughing stock. It was difficult, you went from being seen as one of the greatest gymnasts to people pointing out you won a silver, like all the golds before that meant nothing. It still kind of upsets you today, you used to hang around people like Lance, talking yourself up and now you can hardly step into a gym that you know anyone in because of the fear of being mocked. No one wants to believe that their favourite gold medalists athletes are up their own arses, but they are; a few are humble most are Tucker.

“Well, well look who we have here.” You sighed and refrained from rolling your eyes, spinning on your heel to glare up at Lance who had his arm crossed, smirking as he gave you a once over. “Didn’t expect to ever see your face again, Y/N!”

“Let me guess,” you cross your own arms, “still living off the former glory of your old gold wins, I see?” His steel blue eyes narrowed, his jaw locking as you simply smiled cockily.

He uncrossed his arms and stepped to you, “still trying to hide the fact you’re huge fucking failure by giving attitude as if you’re still a gold medalist.” He towered over your small frame, a glare so intense you almost squirmed under it; like one of those girl amateurs meeting him for the first time.

“I am still a gold medalist winner, I didn’t come here to be mocked Tucker, so go fuck your way into winning some competitions.” You regretted the words as soon as they flew from your mouth.

Lance loves to prove a point, he especially loves to win gold medals by his sheer talent. Proving that he didn’t fuck any female judges to win, you hated to admit it but he’s talented. One of the best you’ve seen, it only made you hate him more. He repelled back an inch as if what you said hurt him, it would anyone, you stood your ground against him by glaring. His jaw locked as he glared, pointing a long finger in your face, you raised your eyebrows at the man. God, you’d love to slap him and not even in a sexual way, one hard slap across his face.

“The only one here that should be fucking their way into gold medals is you, you need all the help,” he remarked coolly, you bite your tongue and just glare as he steps around you going back to coaching some teen. You let out a shaky puff of air, feeling a little hot from that exchange, due to being angry- definitely anger.

You walk to the mats, unzipping your jacket and shrugging it off leaving it in a pile just to the side. Stretching your arms above your head, the black sports tank top clinging to you, you felt your muscles contract underneath your skin. You bent forward touching your toes, pressing your palm flat against the cold blue mat and stayed like that for a few seconds, you slowly dragged your left leg up straight and turning your torso to touch left arm to your foot. Torso arching, the tight feeling bunching in your abdomen.

“I’d recognise that ass anywhere,” you chuckled at Hope’s crude behaviour as she yelled walking to you, “you gonna give every man in here a boner or hug me?”  

You lowered your leg, pushing yourself off the floor with your palms and standing straight. Turning to take in the small-but-big attitude-Hope, she hadn’t changed all that much, hands on her hips as she also looked you over. Both chuckling as you stepped forward embracing her, you were the same height as her, small but with a lot of attitude.

“I see you bumped into Lance,” she gave a chuckle as you let out a loud exhale. “I haven’t seen him that tense since… you were last around here, you really get under his skin,” she nudged and wiggled her eyebrows, “he wants to fuck you.”

You coughed loudly in shock, forgetting how crass Hope is. “Okay, that’s definitely not it. We hate one another, we do not- I do not want to fuck Lance Tucker!” You walked away heading to the balance beams, Hope following and she scoffed brushing her blonde bangs out of her eyes.

“The sexual tension I can smell it from five miles away,” you rolled your eyes prepping before jumping up, steadying yourself. “You both need to fuck the hatred out of one another or you know, fuck one another and still hate each other, at least you get rid of the stank.” You barked a laugh and going into a handstand, “point your toes.” She barks unconsciously, instantly doing as asked.

“There’s no sexual tension between us,” you say through your teeth, pointing your right hand out straight and balancing all of your height on your left. “We’re both competitive, needing to prove ourselves through winning. Plus, he’s just an egotistical asshole, he doesn’t care about anyone but himself and his medals.”

Hope crosses her arms watching as you get back into a standing position, barking little comments to you as you leapt and did an arabesque. It’s silent for a few minutes as you done some scissor leaps. “Do an Omelianchik!” You sighed, giving her a glare as she gave a little shrug with her right shoulder.

You gave a few deep breaths, going into a back dive with a one-quarter twist landing with a handstand. Your eyes glance over to where Tucker was on the steady rings, currently holding a handstand. His hands gripped the rings tightly, his arms straight and bulging, contracting under his weight. His back to you, the muscles defined nicely through the thin white top he wore.

“You need his cock inside of you, I know it.” Hope’s ‘jokey’ comment made you lose balance and fall from the beam, “oh shit! Y/N, you okay?”

You groaned from the floor, landing on a mat didn’t really stop it from hurting as landed with a loud ‘thump’. Hope let slip a few chuckles as you pushed your upper body up, holding a hand to your head as you groaned, flipping her off which only made her laugh a little harder.

“Is she okay?” A deep voice asked from a few feet away, “what happened?” it took a few seconds to figure out it was Lance who was asking. Probably, came over to gloat at how dumb and unprofessional you are.

Hope sighed, “I told her how she needs a good fuck and she lost balance! I think, she’s okay.”

Lance let slip a laugh at Hope’s honesty as you once again, flipped her off. He walked over to you, offering a hand to help you up, you swatted it away and he chuckled holding his hands up as you tried to lift yourself up. You wobbled, your right leg felt stiff and achy due to the fall. Lance put a hand on your shoulder to stop you from swaying, raising his eyebrows at Hope who was smirking lightly.

“I’m okay, I think.” You shrug Lance’s hand off of your shoulder lightly, ready to get started with training again but Hope pulled you back, you gave a defiant look.

Hope shakes her head, “No way, I can’t let you continue after that fall. You need to go back to your hotel or whatever, rest that bashed head. Lance drive her home!” She pushes Lance as best she could to you, he frowned also. “She can’t drive, she hit her head, stop being an asshole for five minutes and give her a ride!”

“I’m fine, Hope.” You grit through clenched teeth and she gave you a cold glare, challenging you to a fight if needed. “Plus, I don’t need him giving me a ride anywhere!”

Lance scoffed, “You’d be lucky to get any sort of ride from me, sweetheart!”

“Oh my god,” Hope yelled angrily, “Don’t you dare talk to her tight pussy like that, she’s a silver medalist plus gold, she has more flexibility you can deal with Tucker. So, shut your whore mouth.”

You frowned but smiled, Hope had a weird way of sticking up for you, Lance didn’t seem fazed as he sighed and nodded, pushing you to the doors where you went to the changing rooms. You didn’t bother getting dressed, grabbing the duffle and walking out to see Lance leaning on the far wall, arms crossed as he waited for you. You walked over, he pushed himself off the wall and walked a little beside you in uncomfortable silence, going out into the carpark you headed towards you own car before you feel of Lance tugging you towards his own.

“We’re taking mine because I need to drive back,” he mutters some excuse as he opens the passenger side for you, you frown.

“I need to drive here tomorrow, let’s take mine.” You go to slam the door closed but Lance stops you, you make a sound of annoyance at him.

He rolls his blue eyes, “I’ll drive you here tomorrow or text Hope to pick you up, I need my car.” He insists, instead of arguing with him, you make another sound of annoyance before sliding into the passenger seat. “Thank you.” He drawled out before walking round to the driver’s seat as you buckled in.

It’s uncomfortable between you both, you had cut the tension with a butter knife. You looked out of the window, watching as houses rolled past, you leant back a little and glanced to Lance. Admittedly he was handsome, anyone would say so, even you. He had a strong jaw, nice head of hair and his athlete’s body was always in top shape. 

When you first met him you were instantly attracted, then he opened his mouth and the more he talked, the less you wanted him to shove you up against a wall- maybe. Hope’s words played on your mind a little too much, you’d never… maybe. No, you wouldn’t. You swore you’d never have sex with Lance ‘The Fucker’ Tucker.

“Why are you back in Amherst?” You kept looking at him, he briefly cast his eyes to yours before looking back at the road, “you belong in LA with all the other gold medalists.”

He chuckled at that, “I came to see some raw talent, see if any of Hope’s and Ben’s amateurs have what it takes. Talent spotting, I guess.” He shrugged, “why’d you come back? Last I heard you were a Miami girl, also dating that Gold medalist from the United Kingdom; hate that guy!”

“Just cause he got the gold whilst you got the silver,” you chuckle and he doesn’t look at you, “I decided to come back and see Hope. Whilst everyone mocked me, she was the one who really stuck by me, I owe her something… I guess. And that ended, I’m not great at being in relationships where I’m constantly surrounded by people better than I am.” You didn’t mean for it to slip but it did, to Lance of all people.

“The British are not better,” he remarked and you couldn’t help but chuckle. “I thought, your quote not mine, that the British were more humble with their wins?” He had that arrogant tone as he repeated what you said many years ago.

“Well, they’re more humble than you,” you quip and he shrugs. “He liked hanging around the gold medalists, people would comment about my silver, as if I wasn’t a gold medal winner before. It’s amazing how one silver can bring down a whole career, suddenly I was losing my touch, I don’t know. Loser problems,” you laugh as he pulls into the hotel you’re staying in the carpark. “Plus, I don’t compete anymore or go to those events, he did and it just brought back all the wrong memories.”

You unbuckle your seatbelt, looking up as Lance watches you with raised eyebrows, you frown letting the seatbelt leave your upper body. “You proved today you haven’t lost your touch, apart from the bit where you fell because Hope said you needed my cock inside you, was it?”

You stop and look at him wide eyed, he has his cocky grin on but you’re too stunned to even say something witty or snide back. “You heard that? I forget how loud Hope’s voice is.”

Lance nodded, “And pitchy, listen I’m gonna ask this once; do you want to fuck me or not?”

“With that face, it would be a yes,” you see his grin spreading, “but with that fucking attitude, it’s a clear pass.” You grab your bag from the backseat and shove open the door, slamming it shut and stomping your way towards the hotel.

You hear his door open, “Y/N, stop! Wait a fucking minute.” He pulled you back by your jacket sleeve, you sighed and pulled your arm away and crossed them, “I’m sorry didn’t realise you were so finicky over who fucking fucks you.” You opened your mouth to retort but shake your head before turning. “Okay, I’m sorry, okay?”

“Lance, you could be the best guy I’d ever fuck but at the end of the day I know what it is,” he frowns at you, “I don’t need a pity fuck from a gold medalist to make myself feel better about myself, okay? I’ve been around enough guys willing to fuck me, let me wear their gold medal as they fucked me! That used to be me, I used to be able to offer that but my golds mean nothing like I would to you after.” You shuffle on your feet under his gaze, “I can’t handle you parading around that you got to fuck the ‘has been Y/N’, okay? Another ego boosts for Lance Tucker.”

It’s silent between you both as you stand in the carpark, he looks as though he’s going every word you spoke to him. You heft the bag over your shoulder some more, looking at him and sighing. “Thanks for driving me back, I appreciate it. This doesn’t mean I like you, I still hate your guts.”

He shrugs his shoulders lightly, side smirking as he stepped away from you. “It wouldn’t be a pity fuck, I don’t do pity fucks and the gold I have with me, you can’t wear it.” You frowned but knew what he meant, people talk and you simply chuckled. “The only thing I’d parade around is the fact I got to fuck Y/N Y/L/N, former gold and silver medalist, but I get it. You can’t handle me being the best fuck ever, so much so, you’d have to come back!”

You scoffed and he raised an eyebrow, “You’d have a challenge since the British may lose to Lance Tucker in gymnast but in fucking, they get a solid 10.5 overall.”

“That’s not very fair, the judge hasn’t me perform for herself,” he stepped closer than he was before. His body almost pressing up against yours as he looked down at you, “I’d very much like to compete.”

You were about to talk, maybe stop whatever was building but it was if Lance knew you were backing away. He gripped firmly on your hips, pulling you to him and connecting his lips to yours, it was so sudden that you didn’t react instantly. His lips were soft, unbearably soft against your own and you eventually fluttered your eyes closed and kissed back. He holds you a little tighter, releasing a little moan from you- unintentionally, he slips his tongue into your mouth. He pulls away with a satisfied smirk, you narrow your eyes pulling away from his hold and walking back towards the hotel.

Lance frowns, a little confused. “I’m not fucking you out here, Tucker.”

**

You unlock the door, throwing your bag to the ground and hear Lance kick the door closed. His hands grabbing hold of your hips pulling you back towards him, grinding slightly and moving your hair from your neck. His lips biting gently at the exposed skin, you bite your lip to keep from moaning, not wanting him to know the effect he has on you.

“We really shouldn’t do this,” You muttered more breathlessly than intended, Lance smirked against your neck, biting your earlobe teasingly. He spins you around, grinning devilishly at you.

“You have permission to stop this if you really want to, but I don’t think you want to… do you?” he winks and you shiver at the implications of his words.

After that it was a flurry of clothing, Lance unzipped your jacket and throwing it to the ground and hiking the tank top you wore up and off of your head. Hands palming at your breasts as you work on unzipping his own jacket, trying to shove it off of his broad shoulders as he continued to roughly play with your tits.  He unclasped your bra in a second, pulling it off and letting it drop to his feet and finally he did something with that arrogant mouth of his. He pushed you up against the wall, not caring for how hard he slammed you against it- despite the fact you bashed it not an hour ago, mouth latching onto one of your nipples and biting down harshly with his teeth causing you to whine.

Bucking against his hips you could feel his growing erection through the track pants he wore, you grinned inwardly at the feel of him against you, running a hand through his perfectly styled hair and tugging harshly but his assault continued with the other nipple. Taking the one he lavished between two knuckles and tugging, you tried to hold back the gasps by biting down hard on your bottom lip.

“If you don’t fucking make me cum in two minutes, I’m deducting points on execution,” Lance couldn’t help but chuckle around your nipple, causing the vibrations to shake through your body and you let your head fall back against the wall, groaning lightly at the contact.

Lance pulled back, mild concern, “You okay? You’re head earlier-”

“Don’t get sappy on me now,” You snap cutting him off and he smirked at your impatience.

Lance yanked down your shorts and panties, practically ripping them off of your legs and then made quick work on his own clothes, minimal help from you as you drank him in. One thing is for sure, he has every right to brag. He was toned, lean and just magnificent all around from head (lol sex puns) to toes. Your eyes danced over his tattoo, a small little giggle erupts from your mouth as you take it in, of course, Lance Tucker has the tattoo.

His abs clenched and contracted under his tanned skin, your eyes drift up to find him showing you the same intense stare. His own eyes washing over your body, falling over every muscle and feminine curve of you, licking his bottom lip as if what he was looking at was something delectable. You smirked as his hand reached out, pulling the hair-tie, letting your locks flow down, hand weaving into the strands and pulling you in for another heated kiss. All teeth and tongue, your hand lazily scratch down his chest, finding his member and giving a few light strokes.

“How about you show me your Needle Scale, you’ve always done them so well and look so fucking hot,” he clicked his tongue at the end of his sentence. Cocking an eyebrow as you gave a little smile.

Stepping around him and closer to the bed, knowing he is watching you intently emitted goosebumps over your skin, sending a thrilling wave of heat and tightness through your body. Without much hesitation you lift your right leg up, arching your torso as you held your ankle, grasping it and pushing your leg a little to stretch it. Looking up and watching your foot, you could feel Lance come up behind you, hands gently tracing down your calf and thigh.

His fingertips skimmed through your wetness, you let out a soft sigh and he gently prodded at your entrance. Taking his time, you gulped as he slowly pushed his digits inside of you, almost throwing you off balance on the one foot keeping you upright. You gasped as both of his fingers were now buried to the knuckle, gently scissoring your insides. You were shaking, your left leg quivering trying to keep the same balance.

“So,” Lance pulled his fingers out, “Fucking,” he punctuated the word by slamming his fingers back in, and out again using his other hand to hold your leg up, “Tight.” He did the same, except adding a third finger causing you to groan out.

His hand quickened it’s pace, you could hear the sounds of him fingering you in the silent room and you could feel his left hand tighten on your ankle. Keeping your body in the Needle Scale, possibly the longest you’ve ever held this position for, you weren’t going to complain about the circumstances. Although, the stretch you felt in the tops of your thighs. The feel of Lance’s erection prodding your straight, quivering leg. 

The coil in your lower tummy tightened considerably, the warmth rushing through your body. Then he withdraws, pulling his wet fingers from your aching, needy core and letting your leg drop.

You turn to glare at Lance, asking what his fucking problem was but was met with him licking those fingers. He’s such an asshole, he knows it from the smug smirk on his face. You were so close to smacking him, till he pushed you on the bed, crawling over you with a predatory smile. “I was gonna properly taste you, but having you like this, well… they’ll be other times.” He winks cockily.

You were about to retort before you felt Lance aligned himself, giving no hesitation he slammed all the way in, groaning in your ear and you let out a loud moan. It had been a while since anyone had been inside of you, plus with Lance’s impressive side it took a few hard, deep thrusts to get used to. You panted as he set a good rhythm, your nails scratching down his back, your hands gripping his tight ass to encourage him to go faster.

“God, you’re so fucking tight still,” Lance moaned, growling as he started to pound into you, you dig your nails into his hard flesh and close your eyes, mouth open to keep yourself breathing.

Lance grabbed a hold of your legs, spreading them wider, keeping his pace as he stretched your legs to rest on his shoulders.  “F-fuck! God, Lance.” You groaned as the new position made him go deeper, the sounds of his groans and skin slapping skin, filled your ears. Sweat covering both of your bodies.

He leant down, pushing your legs down towards your body as he kissed your lips roughly, biting on your lower lip and tugging as he felt your walls clench around him. You were so close, you pulled back from the kiss, throwing your head back as a series of profanities and his name mixed spewed from you. Lance began sucking, biting and teasing the soft skin on your neck, keeping him from releasing loud moans of his own. A few hard thrusts had you on the tip of orgasm, he could sense that as he reached down between your stretched legs and began small, tight circles onto your clit.

“You close?” His breathing erratic, all you could do was a nod, “I want you riding me when you cum.” Is all he manages to say, you whimper as he pulled out of you after one hard thrust. Your legs drop as he grabs a hold of your hips, landing on the bed beside on his back, helping you straddle his waist and guide you back to him. His fingers dig into your hips, helping you set a quick and hard pace on top of him.

One hand sneaking up your ribs and groping a breast, kneading and pulling at the hardened peak as you gasped. Your own hands resting on his chest, nails digging in as rubbed and circled your hips over him; thighs burning from the position earlier and now the task of raising and falling on his dick- it was a strenuous task. Lance planted his feet on the mattress and started to pound up into you, his thumb sneaking back to gather wetness where he entered you and exited you to rub against your nub.

Bringing you to the brink of orgasm again, only this time with one punishing thrust he had you coming undone, repeating his name like it was a prayer. Your walls fluttered around his cock, riding your orgasm till he hit his. His back arched up as he came suddenly, spilling inside of you, erratic hip thrusts as he milked himself of his cum into you.

The only sounds now in the room was your panting breaths making you realise how loud your sex actually was; mattress creaking under you, skin on skin, Lance’s groans and your high pitched moans. Your hands still clung to his chest as you body was still spasming, twitching from the orgasm. Palms sliding down his sweaty torso, his own hand dragged carelessly down from your breast to your waist, clutching you there. Your hair clung to the sweat on the back of your neck plus forehead, cheeks flushed pink and you were still fully sheathed on Lace.

“So,” Lance’s voice hoarse and rough, “what’s my score?” His eyes blinked open, half-lidded as he looked up at you. You frowned, still too dazed to fully get what he was saying till you remembered the conversation from earlier.

You leant down, resting your elbows on his abdomen as you smirked. “What’d you think you got?”  

“Above those fucking British snobs?!” He grinned at you, raising an eyebrow in question.

You chuckled lightly, “13.8.” His eyes narrow darkly as you grin broadly, quirking an eyebrow of your own. You gasp as he circles his own hips, reminding you he was still inside of you, bringing himself to half-mast already.

“Give me that gold, Y/N.” He grins cockily as you push yourself up again.

“Then earn it, Tucker!”

(God, if this is terrible I am so sorry. I edited this for two days straight, plus first ever Lance thing and it was smut- which isn’t something I am too confident with. Like I said, the more I write about him the better I’ll get, so by all means… Request some Lance Tucker stuff! I also have a series idea, should I consider writing that? - Rosalee) When you’re British and make Lance hate you, I’d stil fuck him even if he spoke shit about my Nations athlete’s 


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The Signs as Conscious

Aries: Are You Home
Taurus: We Had Everything
Gemini: Conscious
Cancer: Bedroom Door
Leo: Heartlines
Virgo: All of Your Glory
Libra: Full Blown Love
Scorpio: Worth the Fight
Sagittarius: Free
Capricorn: Recovery
Aquarius: Freak of Nature
Pisces: Couldn’t Believe

In case you don’t know, this is Broods’ newest album, and it really needs more appreciation so you should check it out :)

Sometimes we think it’s all over now when we sinned, we go back to our old ways because we’re just a disappointment to a holy God. When Peter goes back to fishing with a discouragement in his heart, Jesus came to him not to pinpoint his sins but to show that He still loves him. God is still merciful, it’s not too late to ask for forgiveness and live for His glory.
10

Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon: Special Act pt 1

Preference #125: When He Gets Drunk

Liam: Liam is the definition of a good time whenever alcohol is involved. He never pressures anyone to drink (he didn’t for a long time) but if people express interest, he’ll buy whole rounds for everyone, even people he didn’t know. He was more than generous, and would never admit it, but loved being the one to pop open a champagne bottle, or start a round of tequila shots with everyone cheering and hollering around him. He never shied away from a camera, and he would always smile when he would find hundreds of blurry selfies with friends on his phone the next day. Liam is never afraid of looking stupid when he drinks, and if he wants to do something, he’ll make it happen. He’s a stubborn guy, and once he or his friends have their eye on something, nothing will stop him from getting it. If there’s a silly photo booth that a friend of yours wants to go to, Liam will be the first to hold up the silly props while all the other guys shy away. If one of Liam’s favorite songs comes on, he’ll grab your hand and pull you to the dance floor, jumping up and down even if no one else is. Furthermore, since Liam is so set in his ways, if he gets the idea that he wants you, it’ll happen. Once some liquid courage is in his system, his hands will grip you tighter, pull you closer, no matter how many people are around. His words grow darker and dirtier as they get whispered in your ear. Liam’s the life of the party when he drinks, but he’ll shut it down once he realizes that all he wants in the room is you.

Harry: Watching him while he was drunk was secretly one of your favorite things to do. He didn’t drink often, but when he did, you couldn’t miss a second. The goofy, adorable boy that Harry normally hides behind his professionalism comes out with every sip he takes. He laughs at everything with that cute, loud, crinkled-eye, huge-grin giggle and his long limbs often are slow to respond, sending him stumbling like Bambi on ice. The best part is he’ll start sentences that he doesn’t know how to finish, and you wish you could record half of the things that come out of his mouth. “Can I sit here… platonically?” he’ll hiccup as he sits down next to someone at the bar, before breaking out into another smile as he covers his face with his hand, “Fuck, I have no idea what I’m saying. I meant…nevermind…sorry!” You shake your head with a smile, rubbing Harry’s back as you remember all of this stupid stuff to taunt him with later. A few minutes later as you look out at the snow collecting outside of the club, Harry murmurs: “Look at all this snow, guys… like, imagine if it was sand… but still cold, no wait, even better: warm snow. How sick would that be? I love the beach!” The group you’re sat with at the club cackles, waiting for what’s going to come out of Harry’s mouth next. “(Y/N),” he whispers hotly into your ear as you head back over to the bar, “you better not use any of this against me tomorrow. I know’m gonna say something stupid. Probably already have…” “Wouldn’t dream of it, babe.” You say with a smirk as you take another sip.

Niall: For Niall, drinking has been as much of a past-time as football or guitar. He cannot get enough of beer, and always has plenty of it stocked in the fridge for when he needs to unwind after work or on the weekends. He was proud of the Irish in him, and could down more alcohol than most anyone, and hold it well too: it took a lot of booze to get him even slightly tipsy. He was the most heavy-weight drinker you knew, but there was always someone that popped up who could do more shots, finish another pint… That’s when you got worried. Niall wasn’t aggressive or dangerous when he did decide to finish that extra drink, but he was stupid sometimes. Especially around his friends back in Mullingar, who always egg him on. Every now and again you see a new scrape or bruise on him, and when you ask him about it, he laughs before beginning a story about how Sean dared him to jump the table or throw a dart with his eyes closed. One day you know he’ll learn his lesson, but for now, while he’s still living his glory days with his best mates, you let him have some fun, within reason. “Just don’t get a tattoo after drinking, okay?” you say, resting a hand on his shoulder, “you would be the type to do that.” He laughs and pauses, his mouth forming into a line. “Oh, well actually…then I have something to show you…” he reaches for the hem of his shirt and your face blanches. “Nah, I’m just kidding ya!” he says with a grin before you playfully smack his chest.

Louis: Three things in Louis’ life were known to rile him up: other guys hitting on you, paparazzi, and alcohol. So God help you if someone were unfortunate enough to mix the three. Even with one drink in his system, Louis held himself higher, became more critical, and suddenly saw himself as better at most everything. “Psh, I can do that” became one of his most common catchphrases after a drink.  But his confidence was sexy, and you loved that he would lose what little inhibitions he still had, and would just go all out for anything. Dancing like idiots to Timber in the middle of a club? Done. Trying (and finishing) the disgusting concoction of mixed drinks your friends made? Done. Calling out that guy for his rude comment that normally would be ignored? Done. Sometimes, though, it did get to be a bit much, especially when people upset him or you in some way, even unintentionally. He could never shake it off or ignore it. Louis wasn’t the biggest guy, far from it, but that never stopped him from tensing up and trying to shove a guy that spilled his drink on you, or from nearly screaming when he emphatically insisted that he was right in an argument that made no sense. He became even more protective than normal, and LOVED to talk shit to the paparazzi that always waited outside of the clubs. You clutch his arm as he stumbled slightly over the bumpy walkway of the club’s exit, and the normal stampede of paps swarm you. “Fucking paps!” Louis shouts, waving his arms, “Bloody leeches, go screw yourselves! Get yourself some real jobs!” You get into the back of the limo and sigh, pulling Louis in before he can raise both his middle fingers to the paps.

anonymous asked:

20, Bamon

20. Exhausted parents kiss

Damon collapsed atop the bed more than a little dramatically, giving a long, attention-demanding groan. 

Amused, Bonnie raised an eyebrow. “How many this time?” 

He huffed. “Four.”

Four?” She clucked her tongue and put her book away on the beside table. Rolling over onto her stomach, she rested her chin on her upturned hand. “I thought you were going to cap story-time at two?” 

“I know. I was. But then she gave me the look.” His eyes narrowed and his lips pursed. “I blame Stefan. He’s getting back at me, still. Just wait until he and Blondie adopt; I’ll get my revenge then.” 

Bonnie snorted. “She doesn’t need a look, Damon. She has you wrapped around her finger. It’d be sweet if I didn’t know she’d be cranky getting up tomorrow because you let her talk you into staying up another hour…” 

“In my defense, they were educational stories…” 

“Really?” Unconvinced, she shook her head. “So there was no reliving your glory days as a badass vampire happening in any of them?” 

“Hey, I’m still living my glory days as a badass human… But if there were a few details about a certain vampire and witch taking on a whole hoard of power-sucking witchpires, well, who can blame me? She loves a good action story, especially when it ends in a happy ending for her parents.” 

“Mmhmm.” Bonnie leaned over, her lips curling slowly. “Well, now that you’ve educated your daughter, why don’t you spend a little time with your wife…?” 

“I like the sound of that…” He wiggled his eyebrows, smiling as she leaned down to kiss him. He buried a hand at the nape of her neck and leaned up to meet the enthusiastic slant of her lips. Until a few seconds in, when he started yawning. 

Bonnie leaned back. “Should I be offended?” 

Groaning, he closed his eyes. “Give me fifteen minutes. I’ll down a cup of coffee and be right back…” 

Before he could roll off the bed, she grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back. “Damon, go to sleep, seriously. You can make it up to me in the morning.” 

He frowned at that, but eventually dropped his head back to the mattress. “Fine. But I’m waking up extra early to reassert my masculinity.” 

Snorting, she turned over and crawled off the bed. 

While Bonnie wrapped her hair and changed for bed, Damon eventually gathered the energy to get up. Having a rambunctious four year old daughter took more out of him than he’d expected, but he wasn’t really complaining. He loved his little girl, even when he felt every day of his real age as he dragged his ass to the bathroom for a quick shower. 

Twenty minutes later, he crawled in next to Bonnie, sighing tiredly while she switched off the bedside lamp. 

Settling down under the covers, she wondered, “So how many times did the witch save this badass vampire’s ass in your stories anyway?” 

Grinning, he said, “More than he deserved. But I think he made it up to her in the end.” Settling down against the pillows, he pulled her in against his side and kissed her temple. 

Bonnie smiled. “Yeah, he really did.” 

[end.]

At the peremptory request and desire of a large majority of the citizens of these United States, I, Joshua Norton, formerly of Algoa Bay, Cape of Good Hope, and now for the last 9 years and 10 months past of S. F., Cal., declare and proclaim myself Emperor of these U. S.; and in virtue of the authority thereby in me vested, do hereby order and direct the representatives of the different States of the Union to assemble in Musical Hall, of this city, on the 1st day of Feb. next, then and there to make such alterations in the existing laws of the Union as may ameliorate the evils under which the country is laboring, and thereby cause confidence to exist, both at home and abroad, in our stability and integrity.

—NORTON I, Emperor of the United States.

Pictured here is Joshua Abraham Norton, first Imperator of the Imperial States of America and founder of the Norton dynasty. 

Norton I began in the former United States as one of the most successful businessmen ever to grace its shores. Arriving in 1859 from South Africa with only a $40 000 bequest, he quickly tripled and then quadrupled it by a series of sound investments into Peruvian rice markets. A perennial political theorist, he self-published his first book Imperialism and Democracy: A Sound Examination in 1862. The book proved wildly popular, selling over 300 000 copies and further increasing Norton’s fortune. By this time, he was the third-richest man in the former United States. 

After the American Civil War, in 1868, Norton ran for President on the Imperialist ticket, promising that his first act as President would be to install himself as Emperor and dissolve the Congress. Norton, whose ideas had remained popular on both sides of the Civil War, handily defeated both mainstream candidates, and he was withheld from office only by an emergency act of Congress. In the meantime, his legions of followers kept growing, and by 1870 his Imperialist Party had close to two million members, many of whom were beginning to openly (and sometimes violently) express their disapproval with the American system of government. 

When, in 1871, three Imperialists murdered five New York Police Officers, covering the dead bodies with Imperialist graffiti, the government decided to act. On 18 September 1871, a detachment of the 22nd Infantry moved in on Norton’s estate outside San Francisco. Unbeknownst to the American troops, Norton had, over three years, equipped and trained a substantial private army, which would become the Imperial Army of the Americas. Armed with Mausers and Nordenfeldt machine guns, they drove off the Americans and advanced into San Francisco proper, where he issued the above-printed Declaration of Regency. Two months later, the United States of America was officially dissolved and Norton crowned at San Francisco’s Grace Cathedral. The Capital itself was relocated there in 1877, and the Imperial Palace completed just after Norton’s death in 1880.

Norton’s coronation initiated the Golden Age of the American Empire, with whose glory Columbia still blesses us today. Long Live The Dynasty Of Right, Long Live, Long Live, Emperor Norton XXI!

© 2015 Imperial Ministry of Interior Affairs, Informatics Section