you can do better.

you're entirely missing the point; i want to make him better. independent&selective political oc sideblog to hereditatem.

[essentialis]

                            “ god help you when that girl realises her potential, causer. ”                                          independent political original character                                                              written by anna

[essentialis]

                            “ god help you when that girl realises her potential, causer. ”                                          independent political original character                                                              written by anna

[caustis-arc]

         “I’m not avoiding you,” he lies. He takes another bite of his meal to stall their communication for a second or two. “You’re my assistant. I don’t have that luxury.”

[backboen]

“And yet, you found a way.” The waiter comes back and places a glass of water in front of her, sending a flirty smile in her direction before leaving, which she only sees for her attempt to look away from Lesley. Still, she smiles back. “ Are we going to talk about it? ”

[caustis-arc]

         “Have it your way,” he says, too quickly by his standards. “But it isn’t pretty.”

[backboen]

“ Yeah, yeah. ” She sits opposite him, gesturing for a waiter with the confidence of a woman who is used to giving orders, her heel brushing against his leg as she crosses hers. “ If you're going to avoid me, I'm going to ambush you. It's not meant to be pretty. ”

[caustis-arc]

         “You don’t get to interrupt my fuckin’ lunch.”

[backboen]

          “That’s cute.”

[oliviaswilde]

“Beatrice had attended a rather strict educate school on a biweekly basis. And doing so, Beatrice had been quietly instilled with a certain victorian idolatry, a paragon of virtue.”

[backboen]

psa: starting on wednesday, this sideblog will become a inspiration blog for sadie and a proper blog will be created for political sadie, with a bump on her age to her early thirties and a change in faceclaim to olivia wilde.

[lilmartinimami]

[backboen]

❧

send ❧ for a morning after between our muses – accepting!

There is a breeze coming through the window. It's cold and it makes her pull the comforter tighter against her bare body; it makes her roll over to steal some warmth from the body next to hers.

Sadie doesn't register right away who it is, it wouldn't be the first time she ends up waking up next to a stranger and trying to make the arrangement more intimate than it needs to be – no, this feels right, a sort of natural intimacy that makes her feel more comfortable in her own skin, so she doesn't question it.

No yet, at least.

She doesn't question it when a beard brushes against the curve of her shoulder, or when she can feel a smile against her ear and a low, throaty chuckle vibrate her body when a finger traces her torso and slides down to palm over her stomach.  

It's a bit of a stretch, but she'd recognise that voice anywhere; she'd recognise the effect that voice has over her body anywhere: the butterflies on her stomach, like she's a teenage girl, the goosebumps running over her skin and the unexplainable smile that blooms on her lips almost instantly.

She's almost scared of turning around and checking if her instincts haven't fooled her. So instead, she opts for reaching for the hand on her stomach, twining their fingers and sighing contently when the smile now touches her cheek, broader and followed by a chaste kiss. She risks a peek and is faced with his rarest smile, and the overwhelming feeling of being right about her own happiness for once.

“ Good morning, boss, ” she says groggily but contented, gingerly turning on her spot to look at him but never letting go of his hand.

“ Good morning, Davenport, ” he responds, staring at her quietly for a few minutes before pulling her closer and pressing a kiss to the top of her head, protectively.

And if Lesley was praying to a God he doesn't believe in that he won't wake up and she'll be gone, just a figment of his imagination, who could blame him?

[yoursenator-blog1]

          there’s something quite entertaining about watching someone wake up, especially someone like sadie. he’s not even upset that she didn’t remember his name right, a smile still on his face as he goes back to the door to lean on the frame. he doesn’t say anything, content in watching her close the window as he sips his coffee in peace. her confidence is admirable and quite frankly, so is her body. ❝ of course i do, sadie. ❞ he smiles as he speaks, fingers drumming rhythmically against his cup. honestly, it’s a miracle he remembers her name at all, since he’s never been good with names. 

[backboen]

Her shoulder is raised when she looks over it at him, a cheeky smirk playing on her lips as she rests her chin there and gives him a good look. She doesn't know why she went for him last night, or even remembers if she was the one to initiate whatever led to her being shamelessly naked in front of him but, quite honestly, she can't complain about this outcome. It's with that thought in mind that she strolls towards him, coffee still forgotten at the bedside table and leans in for a kiss, adorably furrowing her brow and scrunching her nose at him when she can't outright reach his lips. “ Were you this tall last night? Because my heels surely weren't. ”

[wildeikis]

Olivia in The Longest Week

[weheartbollywood]

[biestmodus-archived]

@empathiises

[rpmemesalot]

Send ❧ for a Morning After between our Muses

[backboen]

☎

Put ☎ in my ask for your muses info in my muse’s phone — accepting!

I think it’s safe to say that Sadie has a work phone and a personal one, so for the work one:

NAME: LESLEY CAUSER

RINGTONE: the loudest of the standard ones

PICTURE: probably the one on the white house website

LAST TEXT RECEIVED: ‘what if i say please?’

LAST TEXT SENT: ‘teddy is waiting for you (annoying me). you better be on your way.’

personal phone:

NAME: mr. grumpy pants (les)

RINGTONE: welp.

PICTURE: 

but when they get together it’s probably a variation of this:

LAST TEXT RECEIVED: ‘tell him the speech isn’t ready and that he’ll know when it fucking is.’

LAST TEXT SENT: ‘there’s a bra on my sofa and it isn’t mine. wanna explain yourself?’

[brittsmemes]

Put ☎ in my ask for your muses info in my muses phone:

NAME:

RINGTONE: 

PICTURE: 

LAST TEXT RECEIVED: 

LAST TEXT SENT: 

[backboen]

                             “you better hope that girl never realizes her potential, causer”.                                                                                    indie&selective political oc                                                            sideblog to hereditatem

[caustis-arc]

He’s read her file more than once. Now he’s just got to decide whether or not he’d like to share this information and risk betraying his well-hidden ability to give a shit.

         “Couldn’t have missed that name even if I hadn’t,” he says. “But my question wasn’t whether there was family money. It was whether you used it.”

[backboen]

“ I didn't, technically." Sadie doesn't much care for this conversation – she's gotten over the fear of her talents being overlooked in favour of her family name, but it doesn't mean she's overly fond of speaking about it now.  “ I told my family about the job and the next day my gram was telling me about this lovely flat she'd purchased near the White House, and if I could take it out of her hands."

She chuckles, “ Genie Davenport is the most persuasive woman you'll ever meet, Les– specially when you can see right through her bullshit. ”