worse enemy

anonymous asked:

You've probably answered this so many times before but what are your top 3 fics that are a good length and have lots of smut. I love angst as well.

So, my top 30 longshot fics are here but with the curriculum of hella smut and angst, my top three would be :  

Unbelievers : It’s Louis’ senior year, and he’s dead set on doing it right. However, along with his pair of cleats, a healthy dose of sarcasm and his ridiculous best friend, he’s also got a complicated family, a terrifyingly uncertain future, and a mortal enemy making his life just that much worse. Mortal enemies “with benefits” was not exactly the plan.

You Are The BloodA seventh-year Hogwarts AU in which Niall gets all the girls, Liam goes on a journey of self-discovery, Zayn falls in love, Harry wants something more, and Louis tries to figure out once and for all why he, a Muggleborn, was sorted into Slytherin.

Love Is A Rebellious Bird : AU in which the boys still make music. Louis is the concertmaster of the London Symphony Orchestra, Harry is the New! and Exciting! interim conductor/ex-cello prodigy who “has made Mozart cool again” according to Esquire Magazine (Louis hates him immediately, which is definitely why he internet stalked him in his dark bedroom late at night that one time), and Niall is the best. Zayn and Liam are around too.

On a positive note: To anyone (like me) who sometimes gets worried their fics are OOC; the people who get paid real life money to write characterization for Len and Mick just did that so…yeah. 

fic recUnbelievers by isthatyoularry (130k+, chaptered)

high school au, enemies to lovers
SUMMARY: It’s Louis’ senior year, and he’s dead set on doing it right. However, along with his pair of cleats, a healthy dose of sarcasm and his ridiculous best friend, he’s also got a complicated family, a terrifyingly uncertain future, and a mortal enemy making his life just that much worse. Mortal enemies “with benefits” was not exactly the plan.

Or: The one where Louis and Harry definitely aren’t friends, and football is everything.

read on ao3

when the writers make dean show mary the door, be vocal about his feelings and call out sam on his crap

when the writers make dean wrong, his feelings also wrong and make him apologize and accept mary’s bullshit with arms wide open

The Enemy of the World takes place in 2018.
There’s an evil dictator, Salamander, plunging the world into disaster and convincing a public whom he keeps intentionally ignorant that he’s their only possible savior but all he really wants is power and he’s a total liar.

It’s 2017 now.
Trump is Salamander.

anonymous asked:

Hi! I really loved your fic recs based on Harry's album. Do you have any for mitam? (I'm feeling really nostalgic for ot4 today :/ ) thank you so much!

Hey Angel

Oh I wish I could be more like you
Do you wish you could be more like me? 

  • Pull Me Under : AU. As the first British footballer to come out at the prime of his career, it helps that Louis Tomlinson is in a long-term, committed relationship. Even if that relationship is fake. (Featuring Niall as Louis’ favourite teammate, Liam as Louis’ agent, and Zayn as Liam’s boyfriend, who just happens to be good friends with one Harry Styles.)

Drag Me Down

If I didn’t have you there would be nothing left
The shell of a man who could never be his best


And if you like having secret little rendezvous
If you like to do the things you know that we shouldn’t do
Then baby, I’m perfect 

  • Unbelievers : It’s Louis’ senior year, and he’s dead set on doing it right. However, along with his pair of cleats, a healthy dose of sarcasm and his ridiculous best friend, he’s also got a complicated family, a terrifyingly uncertain future, and a mortal enemy making his life just that much worse. Mortal enemies “with benefits” was not exactly the plan.


All I ever wanted was the truth,
How many nights have you wished someone would stay? 

  • Into The BlueAU. In which Louis is Harry’s scuba instructor and quite happy to provide the requested special treatment, pun fully intended. It can’t be all that difficult to convince Harry that they’re on the same page, right? Also, Niall and Liam may or may not be dating, and Zayn is surrounded by emotionally stunted idiots. He bears it with dignity.

End of the Day

If there’s something I’ve learnt from a million mistakes
You’re the one that I want at the end of the day

  • Relief Next To Me : AU. What happens when a baker and a graphic designer meet via a very specific Craigslist post? Fate, friendship, food, and maybe more.

If I Could Fly

I’ve got scars, even though they can’t always be seen
And pain gets hard, but now you’re here and I don’t feel a thing

  • Butterfly GunHarry has never been much of a fighter, but—as always—where Louis Tomlinson is concerned, a lot of things stop being true.1940’s AU. Even after six years apart, they can’t forget their shared wartime childhood.

Long Way Down

I try to forgive you,
But I struggle ‘cause I don’t know how

  • Wear It Like A Crown : AU. As part of a team of fixers hired to handle a gay scandal in Buckingham Palace, Louis expects Prince Harry to be a lot of things—most notably a royally spoilt brat. Never mind that the very same Prince Harry used to star in quite a number of Louis’ teenage fantasies.

Never Enough

I don’t need my love
You can take it, you can take it, take it 

  • Hiding Place : Louis never wanted a soulmate, didn’t really care for the whole Bonding thing at all, really. Enter Harry Styles, who’s wanted to be Bonded for as long as he could remember. With one fateful meeting in an X Factor bathroom, Louis gets a dagger on his arm and the realization that just because Harry is his soulmate doesn’t mean it’s mutual.From the X Factor house to Madison Square Garden, from the Fountain Studios stage to stadiums across the world, Louis has to learn to love without losing himself completely, because someday his best friend will Bond to someone and replace Louis as the center of his universe. 


Just thinking how I went about it wrong
This isn’t the stain of a red wine, I’m bleeding love

  • Soft Hands, Fast Feet, Can’t LoseAmerican Uni AU. Harry Styles is a frat boy football star from the wealthy Styles Family athletic dynasty. A celebrity among football fans, he knows how to play, he knows how to party, and he knows how to fuck (all of which is well known among his legion of admirers).Louis Tomlinson is a student and an athlete, but his similarities to Harry end there. Intelligent, focused, independent, and completely uninterested in Harry’s charms, Louis is an anomaly in a world ruled by football. A bet about the pair, who might be more similar than they originally thought, brings them together. Shakespeare, ballet, Disney, football, library chats, running, accidental spooning, Daredevil and Domino’s Pizza all blend into one big friendship Frappucino, but who will win in the end?

What A Feeling

Everybody needs someone around
But I can’t hold you too close now

  • Where Your Heart IsLouis is ready for his brand new adventure. So what if he suffers from a genetic condition that prevents him from being touched? College is going to be awesome. It has to. Karma kind of owes him right now. Forget about his overprotective mother, or Liam– his entirely too chipper step brother– or his mess of a roommate. Forget about the gloves he has to wear at all times. He’s here to expand his knowledge, write and drown himself in books – No matter how distracting ‘Hallway Boy’ may be– The obnoxious, flirty frat wannabe determined to become the bane of Louis’ existence.

Love You Goodbye

It’s inevitable everything that’s good comes to an end
It’s impossible to know if after this we can still be friends 

  • Pinkies Never Lie : AU in which Louis hates his job and loves Harry, Harry just wants a distraction, everyone else wants them to get their shit together, and Louis learns the hard way that new beginnings are only possible when something ends.

I Want to Write You a Song

Everything I need I get from you
Givin’ back is all I wanna do

  • Wild and UnrulyHarry is a cowboy sitting on the biggest oil reservoir in Wyoming, and Louis is the paralegal assigned to pressure him into selling his land.


You and me got a whole lot of history 
So don’t let it go, we can make some more, we can live forever

  • Perfect Storm : What do you do when your best friend asks you and your (now) ex to be the best men at his destination wedding? You can either tell him the truth, tell him you’re not together anymore, and deal with the consequences, or you can pretend you’re still together and roll with it, just pray you don’t spiral. Fake it ‘til you make it. You know, for the sake of the wedding.Harry and Louis choose the latter.
today i was reflecting in the shower.. where i normally do all of my deeper thinking.. and i couldn’t stop thinking about 2016. i know.. we’re in a new year.. time to let it go.. but i don’t think i properly cleansed myself or made peace with how my year went. and because a lot of what happened to me throughout the year continuously comes to mind.. i knew it was time to sit down and write out my feelings. what has made me the writer or “poet” that i am today.. is i’ve spilled my heart out on paper, time and time again, but lately i’ve been extremely distant. i’m not sure whether it’s because i feel a burden to always be positive and uplifting or because i find myself more afraid than ever. last year i cried. and cried. and cried. more than i’ve ever cried in my 22 years of life. i even made a habit out of watching really sad and emotional movies just so i could find an excuse to. also.. i’ve smoked more than ever before. longing to both - feel.. and be numb. i’d smoke before writing so i could pull certain stories out of me. then i’d smoke after, to forget them. often times.. i just got high enough to make myself fall asleep so i wouldn’t have to deal with anything. in the midst of one of my episodes.. i realized i suffer, and have always suffered, from feeling like nobody really understands me. i’ve always felt like i was someone who was constantly mistaken for an entirely different person. i always feel like i don’t “fit”. i don’t fit around friends.. i don’t fit around family.. i don’t make sense at social gatherings.. i don’t feel at home in my own home. i think a lot of these feelings have come up, from time to time, because i’ve never really known my true identity. all i’ve ever known myself to be is someone that everyone clings to. and not in a “she’s the life of the party” kind of way, but more so, “she’s the person to get advice from” way. and although.. this may sound selfish, sometimes i wish i had someone like me. i wish i had someone who was willing to help solve my problems before solving their own. as i’m typing, i’m starting to cry again. and i’m crying because i don’t know when exactly this will end. or if this discomfort is how i’m meant to live life. maybe this is just the life of an empathic. maybe when i started asking god to “use” me, i signed up for this. the truth is, 2016 should have been the best year of my life. i released a book that hit the best sellers list, i bought my dog that brings an unlimited source of awe to my life, i signed a major publishing deal, i moved out of my parents house and into a new home, i lost friends that never clapped for me, and gained friends who’ve been there for me in every way since, i built this whole “brand” into something much bigger than i ever expected myself to, i found out i was cancer free, i promise the list could continue on. but depression got in the way. of everything. i never once celebrated myself. i never once intervened, and took control. i never even thought to. i felt like whatever i was going through.. i was supposed to. and still.. i’m not sure the reasoning.. i just kept living with a kind of sadness i have yet to find a name for. instead of focusing on all of the goodness that god was placing in my life, i had tunnel vision on everything that i felt was going wrong. i couldn’t see life in a positive light no matter how good things may have got. my parents split up. i was forced to move out. i lost my home base. i went, and still go, months without speaking to either one. my boyfriend was dealing with an ex who continuously threatened to take her life at the account of us being together. all i wanted to do was help her. but couldn’t. i had a new life to take care of, when i could barely take care of my own self. i lost all my friends. literally, every single one. i never ever could leave the house because of how bad my social anxiety was getting. i found out i had a fractured jaw because of the size of a tumor that was holding it in place. i found out i had a fucking tumor that could have been cancerous. i had reconstructive jaw surgery that ruined the nerve and feeling in my mouth. i could not eat or sleep or talk straight for months. i’m still dealing with the pain. i was consistently working and doing interviews right after my surgery. i was and am still extremely exhausted from this. i never properly allowed myself to rest or heal. i started working with a team that could not fully ever understand me which only added to my frustration, loneliness, and sadness. and again, THIS LIST could go on. but more than anything. i was bullied. as my brand kept getting bigger, i was bullied more. and more. and i couldn’t understand how my work, trying to help and heal people, could bring in such negative responses. i couldn’t understand why there were people who were so eager to tear me apart, they would start to attack my image. everyday people attack the way i look and sound. and this kind of bullying brought back a lot of old feelings that i never dealt with as a kid. growing up i was constantly brought down and picked on because of the way i look. i was never skinny enough. or pretty enough. or i was too hairy. or my teeth were too crooked. or my hair was too nappy. or i was too dark. or i was too “black”. or i wasn’t “black enough”. now, i’m receiving - i’m too stupid or i’m too fake. my writing isn’t good enough. my writing is cliche. i look like a monkey. and so on. and so forth. and as i’m typing these things.. i find myself giggling a bit, wondering why i even allow these things to bother me. but truthfully, all negativity from outside sources bothers me. no matter what form it comes in. i always question, “what have i done to deserve this?” and although i often ignore these nasty comments, i’ve realized i harbor the feelings i receive when i see these comments. embarrassment. frustration. confusion. hurt. disappointment. betrayal. i let these statements affect me to the point where i’m starting to silence my voice. i’m starting to be more afraid to speak up for myself. the thought of confrontation makes me nervous. the thought of even receiving any awful comments makes my stomach flip. so i won’t say anything at all. i’ll keep everything to myself if it’ll keep the mean people and their nasty opinions away. but i’m trying to break out of this. i really am. i’m trying to be more understanding of the way people work. i know.. that the way we treat people is a reflection of the way we treat or view ourselves. meaning.. those who are willing to go out of their way to attack a person for absolutely no reason, ultimately feel that they need to. either because, they don’t have enough love for themselves, to be consumed within themselves and their own positivity, or, simply, they hate themselves just as much as they hate me. and not personally, but mainly, their views of life are formed in a negative and hateful way.. more often than not. idk.. maybe i’m getting too ahead of myself. or maybe i make sense and i’m afraid no one will understand it. lol. but anyway. idk. i’m just glad i got to get these things off my chest because i feel like my readers.. and supporters.. or those who just fuck with me, for whichever reason.. are always looking forward to hearing from me. and i’m trying to, again, be more accepting of the fact that not everyone is going to always like my shit. my writing. my poetry. my points of view. my ideas. and that’s okay. that doesn’t make me any less of an artist or woman or idealist.. and that doesn’t make whomever else any less than either. i’m thankful. for these moments of clarity because they really ground me and put me back in my place. i get to reflect on how i’ve sabotaged my own life.. and i pray that god help me heal from it. the reality of this all is.. i’m my own worse enemy. and i have been.. for most of my life. and i know this because i would have never ever allowed myself to go through all the hardships that i did. i would have never allowed myself to not only deal with half the people i’ve dealt with - but also.. i wouldn’t have allowed myself to be as affected by negativity as i was. all i was doing, and all i’ve been doing, is place energy in places and spaces that my energy was never meant to be. 2016 was the ending. i firmly believe this because there is always a storm before a sunny day. there were times last year when i thought i was out of touch with myself and i couldn’t hear god as clearly as i’m used to.. but really.. s/he was with me all along. guiding me to this place i’m in now. this place of - understanding, acceptance, and gratitude. i’m finally understanding that sometimes we go through shit. sometimes a lot of shit. but what we go through doesn’t define us. it shapes us into the people that we’re ultimately meant to be. stronger. wiser. and happier.. if anything. i’m finally accepting that some things, many things, are out of our control. but we have much more control than we think. the way we react to life will result in our karma. we can choose how to react and ultimately this will help affect all of our situations moving forward. i’m also learning to accept people as they are. everyone will do as they please. and not everyone will be considerate of mine, or anyone else’s, feelings. in knowing this, i have to constantly remind myself to not take anything personal. the longer i feed into other peoples negativity, the longer i’ll be miserable. misery is the result of not fully understanding or not fully having control over certain situations. but the more intuitive we are.. the easier it will be to keep away from misery. and finally.. i’m grateful for the one friend i had all along.. whom i never give enough credit to. my best friend and boyfriend. every single tear that came strolling down my cheek.. he was always here to help wipe and then uplift me. the more silence i become the more he encourages me to speak. even if he, himself, doesn’t fully understand. i’m grateful to god for showing up in all forms. people. places. numbers. symbols. etc. i cannot be anymore thankful for my relationship with god. for not only helping me get through one of the best/worst years of my life.. but also.. for giving me the strength to open up about it. knowing.. that everyone’s perception of me is that i’ve “got it all together.”
—  Reyna Biddy

anonymous asked:

Okay so I was thinking about the langst rescue thing and I just can't stop thinking about the lengths the others (besides Hunk and Coran) would go through to convince Lance everything was real and that they did care about him

Kieth would lose his shit, honestly. Kieth is probably low key the most protective of them all, in a really low key way. And he just can’t handle the fact that he and the other made Lance feel unloved to an extent where the Galra where too nice. Kieth never really felt like his Galra side was bad, until that exact moment. he was worse that the enemy. He made Lance feel like a seventh wheel. The bounds he would go too to make up for it would be huge. Like I’m talking, staying with Lance and snuggling with him at night, making sure Lance eats, trying to show how much he cares without showing how gay he is how much he cares. 

Pidge tries her best too show how goddamn sorry she is for every snide comment, for every mean word, for a lot of things, and she doesn’t cry. She doesn’t she swears. But she sees Lance as a brother, she really didn’t mean too make him feel that way. And she really really really despises herself because of it. Needless too say, but her and Lance have this biiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiig convo about how to avoid it, and how she needs too stop blaming herself for what she did in the past, versus how she can be in the future. 

Shiro flat out blames himself, and can’t even look at Lance without being reminded of how bad a leader he was. Like, strategically he was the best, and when it comes to leading on the battle field there is no one better, but fuck, if he didn’t mess up his team emotionally. He’s the only one that Lance doesn’t forgive right away after an apology or three. 

Fic Rec: Fic That I’ll Read Over & Over Again

•         Love Is A Rebellious Bird

•         Wild And Unruly

•         If You Asked Me If I Love Him (I’d Lie)

•         baby we could be enough (i’ll make this feel like home)

•         If Tomorrow Never Comes (We Had Last Night)

•         Sing When You’re Winning

•         Unbelievers

•         Naked & Proud

•         Nicotine

•         Loving You Is Free

•         Want you to want me

•         Absolutely Still

•         for now (and forever)

•         These Roads We Stumble Down

•         Take My Breath Away

•         Cold

•         why don’t we go there?

•         I’ll Crash Until You Notice Me

•         These Constant Stars

•         To the Ends of the Earth

•         Behavioural Ecology

•         my heart is breathing for this moment in time

•         After Hours

•         so keep my candle bright

•         So Much We Didn’t Say

•         like a boomerang

Read more for summary

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Hi! Can you do a fic rec with the most iconic and classic larry fics ever like the ones everybody knows and everybody has read. Thank you in advance

Sure ! (Warning : so this is a iconic larry fic rec, meaning 1/ it doesn’t necessarily reflect my own taste in fics or what I think about it. , 2/ it’s my own choice of what I think are iconics fics . Just saying. )

- And Then a Bit  :  Or, take a parallel universe where Louis and Harry were never together, mix in a two year hiatus and an impending comeback, pour in a dash of lost fans, two tablespoons of strong friendship and a Modest! employee with a good idea. Add a squeeze of pretending to be a couple, lots of kisses and a tattoo or two. Stir. Serve: the mother of all publicity stunts.(aka Harry and Louis fake a relationship for publicity. Eventually it becomes a lot less fake and a lot more real.) (128k)

- Relief Next To Me  : AU. What happens when a baker and a graphic designer meet via a very specific Craigslist post? Fate, friendship, food, and maybe more. (333k)

- Wear It Like A Crown  : AU. As part of a team of fixers hired to handle a gay scandal in Buckingham Palace, Louis expects Prince Harry to be a lot of things—most notably a royally spoilt brat. Never mind that the very same Prince Harry used to star in quite a number of Louis’ teenage fantasies. (141k)

- Love Is A Rebellious Bird : AU in which the boys still make music.  Louis is the concertmaster of the London Symphony Orchestra, Harry is the New! and Exciting! interim conductor/ex-cello prodigy who “has made Mozart cool again” according to Esquire Magazine (Louis hates him immediately, which is definitely why he internet stalked him in his dark bedroom late at night that one time), and Niall is the best.  Zayn and Liam are around too.Don’t hum Bolero. (134k)

- Empty Skies: For three years, Harry has been running from his past. Now, he is moving to London and pledges to fulfil his only dream – making it big in the music industry. Not everyone has a place, though, and the competition is tough. As is his past catching up on him.Louis is part of the biggest boy band of the world, and getting there had meant a lot of hard work, as well as sacrificing parts of his heart and soul. He’s still happy. Maybe not as happy as he could be, but who is he to complain?Featuring Perrie as Harry’s adorable flatmate, Niall as his manager, and Liam and Zayn as Louis’ bandmates. (134k)

Keep reading

|| Challenge Accepted || Luke Skywalker Smut

Pairing: Luke Skywalker x Reader

Word Count: 2521

Warnings: smut, swearing, submissive Luke(?)

Summary: Luke bets you, his mechanic, that he can take anything you could throw at him. You thinks he’s wrong.

Today was one of the rare days that all pilots were on base. You were taking this opportunity to make minor repairs to the pilots X-Wings, ones you’d overlooked before. Currently, you were working on Luke Skywalker’s X-Wing and, boy, was it in rough shape. Not that Luke was careless with his aircraft, but he was always so close to battles, his X-Wing usually came out looking worse than the enemy. You were just finishing rewiring some of the cables, when you hear Luke’s voice behind you.

“You know, I appreciate you doing this.” His voice is soft, but sure.

“I know. You need to be more careful, Luke, or one of these days you and your X-Wing won’t be around.”

“Don’t worry so much! Believe me, I can handle it.” Luke laughs, a musical sound. You smile to yourself in spite of your irritation with him and finish your work, stepping away from the aircraft. You wipe your hands and put your jacket back on, motioning for Luke to follow you out of the hangar.

“That’s your problem, Skywalker. You’re so sure of yourself when it comes to piloting. You’re starting to sound like Han.” You laugh at the face Luke made at your remark. The both of you soon find yourself at Luke’s door and enter.

The two of you had been friends since Luke’s arrival on Yavin IV. You bonded quickly over your knowledge of mechanics and soon, you were the only one he wanted to touch his X-Wing. You couldn’t count the amount of times you had been in his room - and he in yours - talking about anything and everything. Somewhere along the way, you found that you sought his company more and more. Butterflies formed as you spoke and sometimes you lost all coherent thought. Luke seemed to act the same way.

Your suspicions of Luke’s feelings towards you were confirmed when Han Solo marched up to you several days ago, and demanded that you two work things out and told you he was tired of hearing Luke talk about you. Disbelieving, you turned to Leia, one of your closest friends, for advice. She, too, agreed that Luke spoke of you often. And so you promised yourself you’d make the first move. To ease your friend’s pain, of course.

You sat on the couch in Luke’s quarters and took the drink he’d passed you, taking a sip and setting it on the table beside you.

“Listen, I know you’re worried but like I said, I can take anything anyone throws at me.” Luke smiles at you, and you know it’s all an act. He’s trying to make it seems like he’s not afraid of the Empire or of anything. Trying to impress you or himself or a father watching from beyond. You don’t know who exactly he’s trying to convince, but you do know that you have a perfect chance to get him to admit how he feels. Despite every fibre in your body yelling at you not to say anything, you refuse to be scared anymore. Han and Leia would lead you astray. Would they?


“You bet. I’ll be fine.” Luke pulls a lopsided grin and you smile back, a plan forming in your mind.

“I bet a ride in your X-Wing that you can’t.” Luke sits beside you, a mock offended look plastered on his pretty face.

“I accept that challenge!” You smirk, heart racing. You dig your nails into your thighs momentarily and your eyes meet his.

Luke’s breath catches as you capture his lips with your own. His lips are slightly chapped from the harsh Hoth weather - as are your own you assume - but they’re warm and you find yourself smiling into the kiss. Luke hesitantly begins to kiss you back, a little sloppy and inexperienced, but it’s a kiss you know you’ll replay in your mind every night for the near future. You guide him in the kiss, slowly and softly, like a dance. You put one of your hands on the back of Luke’s neck, fingers extending out to curl in his hair. Your nails scratch his scalp and catch some of the locks, pulling a breathy moan from his throat.

Luke pulls back from your lips, pink dusting his cheeks. His baby blue eyes are wide, lips slightly swollen and red, an obscenely innocent image. You let out a slow breath, clenching your thighs together. Tugging on the strands again, Luke’s lips part to allow a small whine to escape, his eyes falling shut. You bite your bottom lip, feeling your heart pick up pace. You’ve never met anyone as responsive to your movements as he was, and you resist the urge to pull on the hair again, just to see if you could get him to make that noise again. ‘Over and over again..’

You gently your other hand on his jaw, feeling the heated skin beneath your fingertips. His eyes flutter open, and you find yourself wondering how he’d respond to sex. You had only kissed, but he looks wrecked, lightly panting and blushing like mad. Gently, you pull his lips back on yours, scraping your nails lightly against his jaw. This kiss is better, Luke seeming a little more confident and you get lost in the motions. You feel his lips against your own, slowly, never once picking up pace. You briefly entertain the thought of what it would feel like to have him kissing your thighs. The thought has you clenching your hand in Luke’s hair a little sharper than before, forcing a high-pitched whine from the blond.

You lick at his lips, rubbing your fingers on his scalp lightly in apology. His mouth opens timidly, and you gently brush his tongue with yours. The hand that was on his jaw drops to his chest, resting on top of the heavy jacket. Luke meets your tongue next time, hesitantly brushing against yours, unsure. You release a small moan, partly to ease Luke’s mind and partly because you’ve waiting so long to kiss him like this, and he does not disappoint. You figured he’d be a little inexperienced and easy to please, coming from a planet such as Tatooine, but you hadn’t anticipated he’d be like this. He responds to everything you do, shifting his breathing, letting out the most beautiful sounds you’ve ever heard. You clench your thighs together again, feeling the weight and warmth settling between them.

Luke responds to your moan by brushing his tongue up against yours again, a bit more confident this time. The two of you continue your dance, almost lazily, despite Luke’s hints to speed up. You shift in your seat, fully turning your body to face Luke and throwing one leg over his lap. You rest mid thigh, pulling from his lips. Luke grips your thighs in protest until your lips find his pulse point. His grip on your thighs return a little harder and you feel him shifting beneath you. Your fingers find the zipper to his jacket and slowly pull it down, pushing the clothing off his body.

Your lips travel farther down his neck, teeth scraping and sucking, biting gently and licking. Surely there will be marks along his skin tomorrow and the thought sends shivers through your body. Luke’s fingers are rubbing your thighs and you reach down to grab his hands, pulling them up to the zipper on your own jacket. Pulling away from his neck, you stare at him as he takes off your jacket. His eyes wander your body, and your fingers travel under his shirt, dragging your nails down in stomach. You feel the muscles clench beneath your fingertips, and you look down towards them, repeating the action. Luke’s hands move down to your ass and you catch sight of the tent in Luke pants.

Smiling to yourself, you pull yourself all the way up his thighs, core now resting against his bulge. His hands are still resting on your ass when you slowly roll your hips down onto his. Luke’s head falls back against the back of the couch, his Adam’s Apple bobbing as he gulps. Your mouth finds his neck again as you continue to slowly - torturously- move your hips against Luke’s. It doesn’t take long for Luke to start squirming beneath you, whimpers coming from his perfect pink lips, his eyes squeezed shut. His cock twitches in his pants as you tugs on his hair once more, and you moan at the feel of it. You can feel him pressed against you and your heart flutters in anticipation. Every time his cock moves against you, you moan quietly, grinding your soaking core down on the masterpiece below you.

Pulling away from him, your hands move to the waistband of his pants. You can hear Luke’s breath catch and his hips lift as you pull the clothing down his legs. You run your fingers lightly up the inside of his thighs, brushing your fingertips against his cock before you tug his shirt up and over his head, unwrapping him like a gift. You scratch your way down his chest, nails scraping over his nipples, taking pleasure in the racing of his heart. Your hands drop to the band of his underwear and your eyes meet his. Blue eyes blown wide and cheeks so pink it’s sinful. His lips came out of your dirtiest fantasies and what he says has you fighting yourself, tempted to ride him right then and there.

“Please..” Luke whimpers out, rocking his hips into air. He says your name and you’re in love with the way he says it when he desperate for your touch. You’re hand rests on his hardened cock, and you gently move your hand along its length. Luke let’s out a sharp breath, rocking his hips up to meet your hand. Your fingers scrape the tip of his member, feeling the wetness that has formed on his underwear. You grip him through the cloth, slowly but firmly moving along his dick. He whimpers loudly when you give his cock a sudden, hard squeeze, but go back to the painfully slow pace you’d set before.

Thanks to the feel of his cock in your hands and the noises Luke makes, you soon find yourself rocking back and forth on Luke’s thigh, desperate for friction yourself. You’re so wet now and wish you could just fuck him (God, you needed it), but you wanted to make him cum like this. Luke shifts his leg beneath you and suddenly it bounces you up, sending sharp pleasure through you. You moan Luke’s name, gripping his cock tightly, rolling your core down on his leg, feeling the pleasure spike through you.

You draw your attention back to Luke loosening your grip on him and gently stroking him. He whines your name and continues thrusts up into your hand. You pause the movement, looking into his eyes.

“Please. It feels so good when you do it.” Luke closes his eyes and lets out a cry when you squeeze him. “I need to.. It hurts, please let me..” You give him a questioning look despite knowing exactly what he means. “Please let me cum.” His voice is small and somewhat ashamed. You grind his thigh again automatically, releasing his dick. He cries but is silenced when your thumb brushes over his slit. You’d reached your hand inside his underwear, pulling out his cock. You pumped him firmly, squirming on his thigh. Luke bounces his leg again - on purpose or by accident, you don’t know - and you moan, squeezing your eyes shut. Quickly, you stand, pulling off the pants you wore along with your panties and sit yourself back where you were. Luke lets out a breath when you grind your naked core against the skin on his thigh, raising his hips up again, whimpering lowly.

“Luke, it feels so good when you do that.” You see the effect your words have on him, his cock twitching as his bounces his leg again. You grip him hard and pump his cock, kissing him slowly to swallow his cries. Your hips never stop moving against Luke’s leg and soon, you hear Luke’s breath start to stutter. Pulling back from the passionate kiss, you stare into his desperate eyes.

“Cum, baby.” Luke’s eyes are locked in yours as his pink lips part and cum spurts in streaks along his stomach. He’s thrusting into your hand, and you rub your thumb along his head until he whines and cries out for you to pull your hand away. You gently run your fingers through his cum, raising your fingers to his lips. He looks down, embarrassed, but takes your fingers into his mouth. You let out a whine at the feeling of his tongue against your fingers and pull them from his lips.

Situating yourself so you are straddling his lap once again, you take the fingers from Luke’s mouth and plunge them into yourself, crying out at the feeling. 'Finally, finally.’ Luke watches you, breathing heavy and his eyes flick up to yours.

“I want to touch you.” Your eyes widen at his bold statement and you take his hand, guiding it to your clit. Taking his thumb, you show him what you like and soon, you’re the one squirming. Eyes closed, you feel Luke’s other hand pull your fingers from your body. Curious, you open your eyes, being greeted by his mischievous smile and his fingers entering your body. His fingers are longer than yours and you rock your hips, whining at the feel of them. He pauses, unsure and you take him by the wrist, showing him. Luke gets more confident as you rock your hips on his hand more desperately and lay your head against his shoulder. You feel the heat in your stomach, anticipation building.

“Luke, please, make me cum.” Luke shifts his fingers inside you and you cry out. The wave comes crashing down over you as you repeat his name, over and over again, gripping his wrist. As your movements slow, he pulls his fingers from you and you pull them to your mouth, sucking on them much like he had to yours.

Blue eyes were locked on your lips, mesmerized by your tongue on his fingers. Pulling his fingers from your lips with a pop, you kiss him instead. Slow and loving, your tongues dance together in a way that shows that Luke has been learning. You two stay that way for a while, until you pull away, placing your forehead against his. You pull him down with you until you’re both laying back on the couch.

“You’re amazing.” You whisper to him. Luke smiles shyly and blushes slightly, thankful for your praise.

“I think you won.” He meets your eyes after a moment. “We should do this again.” You grin, kiss the tip of his nose and lay your head on his chest. You fall asleep listening to the pounding of Luke’s heart and the promise of more sinful sounds passing your lover’s lips the next time he decides to challenge you.

ACOTAR fic, part 2

As I exited the dining hall, I loosed a breath, and I began to walk back to my chambers-not fast, so’s not to draw attention to myself. I passed many faces on the way to my rooms, High Fae, lesser Fae, I gave them all bland smiles, being the High Lord’s pretty pet they all expected me to be. As I was beginning to near my chambers, I heard footsteps behind me, and turned to see Lucien standing there, the sun shone through the glass panels at the end of the hall and it made his skin glow and his red, coppery hair shine so brightly it looked like it had been set alight.

He stepped closer to me, and I gave him a genuine smile. He seemed to be just as shocked as I was at this. Had he again been the only one to notice how miserable I had become in this place? As I stared at him, I waited for him to say whatever he came to find me for.

Another second passed, as we just curiously stared at each other. “Care to take a stroll in the gardens with me?” Lucien asked casually, but in his face, his eyes, it seemed as though he wanted to say more.

I needed to prepare, prepare how I was going to reveal all the truths that had been hidden these many, many long months. But his eyes seemed to plead with me, whether he was aware of his silent begging I was unsure. I gave him a curt nod, but asked him to wait a moment while I went into my bedroom to recieve a shawl. I entered my rooms and looked towards my bed and saw something lying on it; a dress-from the Night Court, a pair of silk slippers and a crown that sat atop a black velvet cushion. I sucked in a breath between my teeth as I saw the note that lay with it, with a pen lying beside it this time. I quickly shoved all of this in the closet, delicately so’s not to damage the crown or rumple the exquisite dress. I shoved the note into one of the drawers of my desk, and reminded myself that later, later I would send Rhys a reply asking him why in hell he would send these here when anyone, any member of this court could have walked in and saw what was blatantly a Queen’s crown and dress, worse, an enemies crown and dress.

I quickly remembered to grab a shawl that I came into retrieve and rushed outside into the hall where Lucien was still leaning on the wall. He nodded his head towards the stairwell to indicate which way we would go. We walked in comfortable silence, down the stairs, and then out of the manor completely. We carried on walking in silence until we reached the spot in the gardens that was farthest away from the manor and the space that also happened to be surrounded by hedges that towered around us, when he gently grabbed my elbow, silently asking me to stop. He looked around as if to be sure that there no one else was around.

“I know what you are, who you are.” He said, not a question, but a statement. I stared back at him with an innocent expression as if to say I don’t know what you’re talking about.

Lucien started again, “I’m not afraid of you, I won’t tell them, him.” I waited for him to finish what he desperately wanted to say. “I want to help you. Help you with… whatever these plans you have been scheming.”

I didn’t say anything, I stayed silent, calculating the risk of telling Lucien-my friend of my plans. Lucien stared at me incredulously while i was still debating.

“Please,” that word clanged through me, “Please, Feyre, I want out of this court. It’s not right what they’re doing here.” He didn’t need to say their names for me to understand-Ianthe and Tamlin, planning for the arrival of Hybern’s forces. “I want to see her… my mate.” his voice, so vunerable, at this my eyes softened.

I may have been stupid, but the way my friend looked at me, he reminded me of myself in a way. Trapped in a place he no longer wanted to be, I refused to keep him here, I wouldn’t let him break-break like I did. So I told him everything, what I planned to reveal tonight.

After I was finished I looked at him and I could see that he understood, understood why I came back here. As he turned his back to me to walk to the manor, I said “One last thing Lucien,” It had taken me a while to accept his actions, but “I forgive you. I know you had tried, and I forgive you.”

I recieved a small smile from him, he nodded his thanks but his eyes still seemed to say sorry, sorry for not trying harder to save me.
Once I returned to my rooms, I slid the lock home on my door so no one could disturb me. I pulled the note out from my drawer, and read my mate’s writing. For my Queen, I wish I was there to see how delicious you look.
I blushed, how was my mate able to make me blush when he was on the other side of Prythian? I wrote back to him, Anyone could have walked in and saw this lying on my bed. before the note could vanish I quickly wrote I wish you could see me too.
Within seconds the note had returned with the words Have you missed my irresistable touch? I sat there, and i could imagine the smirk that was across his face as he wrote that.
Prick. I watched the note vanish, back to my mate.

I stood and headed towards the closet, which held my Night Court attire. I first pulled out the gown, it was a blue black colour which sparkled like the night sky, and it had a plunging neckline. I carefully put it on, and I was hit by smells of my home, of Rhys that clung to it, and I embraced that small comfort. Next I slipped on the black silk slippers, and I once again felt comfortable, wearing the clothes I adored so much. I sat before my vanity, using the tricks Mor taught me by darkening my lashes and sweeping a line of kohl at the outer corner of each eye. I painted my full lips a bloodred colour, almost identical to the shade of Amren’s drink of choice-Lamb’s blood. I arranged my hair into loose curls, and sweeped some away from my face with combs that were near invisible in my hair.

Finally I stood up and walked over to the chest of drawers I’d set my crown upon. I stared at it for a moment, at the sheer beauty of it, the power it seemed to exude, and I thought about how once something like this would have scared me, but not anymore-I embraced it, the power, I knew it wasn’t something to run from, to hide from. I picked it up and delicately placed it upon my head. I took long, elegant strides towards to mirror, and glanced at myself, and after so many months, I finally recognised myself, and I felt beautiful.
I slipped into Tamlin’s mind, and looked through his eyes to see Ianthe and Lucien loundging across the settee in front of him. Once i knew where they were, I winnowed to them bringing the darkness, the shadows and the stars along with me.

I stared each and every one of them in the eyes, and turned the corners of my mouth into a small, cruel smile that I knew could terrify even the strongest warriors. “It seems as though the High Lady of the Night Court has infiltrated your walls.”


So this is part 2 I guess? I want to thank everyone who read, liked and/or reblogged part 1, it meant a lot to me! I’m not a confident writer so it did mean a lot, thank you. I hoped you enjoyed this part as well :)
Also I’m not sure howto link part one, so if someone could help me out that would be appreciated lol

Magic student AU

Person A is a student of magic (Potion brewing, Herbs, spells whatever). And is trying to get the hang of magic but things keep going terribly wrong.

-Person A practicing spells/potion making and accidently shrinking themself or other people.

-A accidently burning their eye brows off.

-A accidently summoning B, a demon.

-Accidently turning themselves into a pigeon and trying to tell their room mate.

- “I enchanted your paint brush to make things that you draw come to life. What do you mean there is now a dragon in our backyard???” -Person A is the magnificently unlucky.

-”I shall now make this object float- whoops I just uprooted your house and it is now hovering in the air.”

- Person A wanting their plants to grow quicker and quickly realising that was a mistake as they have just recreated the beanstalk from jack and the beanstalk.

-Working as a vet is hard, so I enchanted your pet so it could talk now it wont stop screaming profantities at me as I am a vet, it’s worse enemy.

-”My endless coffee mug got knocked over as I left the house and I came back to find my house drenched in coffee- can I please stay with you?”

anonymous asked:

so i dont know if this opinion is valid or w/e but like, i feel like tumblr really dismisses the fact that anne boleyn ordered for mary to be abused. she was only seventeen when anne became queen, and was beaten and sworn at by the others at hatfield on orders from anne. i just think anne isn't as lovely as people make her out to be, and although i find her v interesting, i just think she is romanticized and made out to be some sort of angel? it seems as though the abuse mary got affected her.

i agree and acknowledge that the abuse mary endured at hatfield affected her; but i’m not certain it was at anne boleyn’s behest. i haven’t been able to find any primary sources that attest to that. from what i’ve read, what seems more likely is that it was at the behest of henry viii.

understandably, at first glance it seems logical that lady shelton, given that she was anne boleyn’s paternal aunt, may have been acting at her command. however, i find this less likely given that the two didn’t seem to like each other very much. if anne truly did encourage madge shelton (the lady anne boleyn-shelton’s daughter) to be the mistress of henry viii, as is speculated, her mother may not have taken too kindly to that! later, shelton is one of the ladies that attends on anne in the tower of london, and it was reported that anne said it was “a great unkindness in the king to set such about me as i have never loved” (the cited source for this is cavendish, and other than wikipedia i’ve been unable to find a more direct quote)

when henry visited the household of hatfield in january 1534, mary was ordered to stay in her chamber. thomas cromwell and the captain of the guard instead went to mary to urge her to renounce her title; which she refused. she asked to see him again; and was denied. instead she went out to the terrace at the top of the house as he prepared to leave. he bowed and touched his cap in response. however, he didn’t see her again for over two and a half years and it’s important to remember that he is the one that made that decision; not anne.

it was henry that ordered mary to serve elizabeth at hatfield as a punishment for refusing to publicly accept the acts of appeal and succession. it was henry who deprived mary of her personal staff, henry who denied mary permission to attend the funeral of katherine of aragon and refused to let her have a few objects of value from her mother.

lady shelton was, in fact, ordered to deliver this message to mary by henry viii, according to chapuys:

“The King, for his pains, told him he was not loyal to him, and that all he said was in behalf of the Princess’s desire to go to her mother; but he would take good care not to send her thither, for, the Queen being so haughty in spirit, she might, by favor of the Princess, raise a number of men, and make war, as boldly as did queen Elizabeth (Isabella) her mother. There was no thought of the King seeing the said Princess or sending her a word of consolation. On the contrary, word was sent by her gouvernante that he had no worse enemy in the world than her, and that she was the cause of mischief to the greater number of Christian princes, and the King declared publicly that her conduct was calculated to encourage conspiracy against him.

according to chapuys, anne even wrote to lady shelton herself asking to cease any ill treatment that might have occurred (or basically, at least not to push her further) and relates a copy of anne boleyn’s words:

Mrs. Shelton, my pleasure is that you do not further move the lady Mary to be towards the King’s Grace otherwise than it pleases herself. What I have done has been more for charity than for anything the King or I care what road she takes, or whether she will change her purpose, for if I have a son, as I hope shortly, I know what will happen to her; and therefore, considering the Word of God, to do good to one’s enemy, I wished to warn her before hand, because I have daily experience that the King’s wisdom is such as not to esteem her repentance of her rudeness and unnatural obstinacy when she has no choice. 

By the law of God and of the King, she ought clearly to acknowledge her error and evil conscience if her blind affection had not so blinded her eyes that she will see nothing but what pleases herself. Mrs. Shelton, I beg you not to think to do me any pleasure by turning her from any of her wilful courses, because she could not do me [good] or evil; and do your duty about her according to the King’s command, as I am assured you do.

the only source i’ve been able to find that’s said mary’s placement in hatfield at all was anne’s choice is alison weir’s the lady in the tower, saying anne ‘vindictively insisted she wait on her’…unfortunately, like a lot of weir’s nonfiction work, it provides no citation or source for this passage.

what makes me think that the mistreatment stemmed from henry is that it didn’t lessen after the execution of anne boleyn, but in fact worsened

“On 15th June 1536, King Henry VIII sent members of his council, led by Thomas Howard, 3rd Duke of Norfolk, to visit Mary at Hunsdon. The aim of the visit was to persuade Mary into accepting her father as supreme head of the Church in England, and acknowledging that she was not the legitimate heir to the throne. However, their idea of persuasion amounted to bullying. Eustace Chapuys, the imperial ambassador, recorded the visit of the council members in a letter to Emperor Charles V:

‘To induce her to obey his commands and accede to his wishes, the King sent to her a deputation composed of the duke of Norfolk, the earl of Sussex (Robert Radcliffe), the bishop of Chester (Roland Lee), and several others, whom she literally confounded by her very wise and prudent answers to their intimation. Upon which, finding that they could not persuade her, one of them said that since she was such an unnatural daughter as to disobey completely the King’s injunctions, he could hardly believe (said the interlocutor) that she was the King’s own bastard daughter. Were she his or any other man’s daughter, he would beat her to death, or strike her head against the wall until he made it as soft as a boiled apple; in short that she was a traitress, and would be punished as such. Many other threats of the same sort did the said deputies utter on the occasion, assisted in their task by the Princess’ governess, who happens to be the same as before, having then and there received orders not to allow the Princess to speak a word to any one, and to watch over her so that she should never be left alone by night or day.’”


the opinion is certainly valid, mine can mainly be summed up here. 

it’s rumored that instructions were given to lady shelton to ‘box mary’s ears’ if she refused to obey, and chapuys accredited the words to anne. but otherwise; i’ve read nothing to confirm it. 

because i’m aware of ives’ potential for bias (he greatly admires anne boleyn), i even looked for opinions from historians that seem to dislike her. g.w. bernard, who theorizes that anne was actually guilty of adultery, still says:

“all these accounts of humiliations and pressures that Mary was subjected to are readily believable, but whether Anne’s part in the them was quite as independent and as decisive as Chapuys suggested is open to some doubt: Henry may have been as responsible as Anne, perhaps more so.

i certainly don’t think anne is a saint; i know she had a lot of flaws. and it’s okay to find find her interesting but not necessarily like her– there are plenty of figures i, personally find interesting without necessarily liking…

anyways! i am curious about the sources from which you read mary ‘was beaten and sworn at by the others at hatfield on orders from anne’. if you’d like to come off anon, i swear i don’t bite– and i’d be interested to read them if you’re interested in sharing!  ❤️

A Couple Minutes- King George III X Reader

request from anon:  no King George? :c Still a great blog though! Keep up the good work! Love your blog

a/n: thank you ???

You felt someone tap your shoulder and you turned around, ready to smile and nod and engage in yet another conversation with either a foreign diplomat, another White House employee, or someone else that was connected to politics in someway.

This was the second inaugural ball you had attended for the night and people were eager to meet you, since you were the White House press secretary for President Washington’s first four year term, and with him winning the election again, his second four year term as well.

You smiled as you saw British Ambassador to the U.S, George Frederick the third - better known to the White House staff as King George the third.

“Mr. Frederick, to what do I owe the pleasure?” You smiled.

“Please, call me George. But since you asked, isn’t this your tenth inaugural ball you’ve attended this evening?” He joked and you laughed.

“It feels like it but the reporters will not be happy if I can’t give them every single detail from every ball.”

“Isn’t that the president’s or the first lady’s job?”

“Would you like to tell them that?"He laughed and shook his head.

"Can I offer you another drink?” He asked as he signaled the bartender and you shook your head.

“Like I said, if I am going to be asked about all ten inaugural balls I am going to have to attend, I need to be fully present here and not have a hangover tomorrow.

"He smiled, ordering another drink.

"It’s for me, don’t worry. The press are going to be asking about the hungover British ambassador tomorrow.”

“Just don’t do anything that’ll make my job harder.”

“Such as flirting with you?”

“Ha! I can see the headline already. White House Press Secretary and British Ambassador: Close Friends or More?”

He smiled charmingly and he took your hand in his.

“I imagine the president wouldn’t be too pleased that they are focusing on his press secretary rather than his foreign policy.”

You pulled your hand away.

“You are quite correct.”

You felt someone tap your shoulder and you looked at the secret service man.

“The president is moving to the third ball of the night, should I arrange transport for you as well?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“Of course." You turned back towards the British Ambassador, only to see that he had left, presumably to go talk with other foreign diplomats. 

 You started walking out of the building before you heard someone call your name.

You turned around and you saw George there, pushing through politicians to get to you.

"So much for not making a scene.” You joked.

“I’m sorry but… can’t the First Lady tell the press how the inaugural balls are- or isn’t there reporters here?” He asked.

“In all honesty, I’m just moral support for the chief of staff, who is currently fighting with the secretary of the treasury. I can’t have them trash talking each other in the press because that would most likely result in the vacancy of two positions or the murder of one and the other in jail. Speaking of, the treasury secretary is motioning me over so I hate to cut this short.” You told him, taking a deep breath and then you made your way over to Alexander Hamilton.

“If you called me over to ask me to help hide Burr’s body, the answer is no." 

"I’ll keep that in mind but seriously? King George?” He made a face, laughing.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You said firmly. 

“You like him!”“Shut up, there are press practically crawling around here.”

“So it’s true?”

“Oh shut up I didn’t tease you when you met Eliza.”

“Yes you did.” Eliza reminded you and you shushed her playfully.

“And here I was hoping you both had forgotten.”

“Hardly. But now that you’re in love-”

“I’m not in love.”

“-we can tease you about it.” He finished, smirking.

“We’ve only talked for a couple minutes.”

“That’s what I told you when I met Eliza, isn’t it? We only talked a couple minutes.”

You stormed into the conference room and you shut the door, glaring at Alex.

Everyone in the meeting was staring at you and Alex looked like he didn’t know what he did to warrant this level of anger.

“Everyone except Hamilton, out.” You said through gritted teeth. Hamilton nodded and dismissed everyone.

Once everyone was out and the door was shut, you turned on him.

“What did I do?” He asked you and you shook your head in disbelief.

“Apparently, Maria Reynolds. And I had to find out from the press.” You shook your head in disbelief.

He paled.


“She came forward to the press. And they bombarded me with questions. I learned that my best friends husband had an affair because of the press. You have a son!” You hissed and he applied pressure to his temple.

“I need to talk to Eliza.”

“Do you want a career in politics when this is over? Because you made a choice by not telling her right away. You have to talk to the press if you want a chance at ever having a career in politics. We would need to start congressional hearings to make sure that you aren’t guilty of embezzlement-  they already found out that you paid her husband so that he wouldn’t tell your wife and you could keep on having sex with her.”

“How can you spin this?”

“You want me to spin the story so she’s the villain?”

“We were just talking for a couple minutes and then-”

“No. I’m not slutshaming her and believe me if I didn’t care at all about my job, I would be slutshaming you. I’m not your friend right now but I could be so much worse of an enemy.”

“And I am one of your superior’s. Spin the story or I want your letter of resignation on my desk by tomorrow. Clear?”


“Good, now go home. I can handle this.”

You stormed angrily out of the conference room and you went over to the British embassy, knocking on George’s door.

George let you in and he watched you sit down on the couch and slump over.

“Bad day?”

“Hamilton- ha! He has the nerve to ask me to spin a story to slutshame someone who probably doesn’t even deserve it!”

He turned on the TV and he changed the channel from the news, which was reporting on the lawn of the Reynold’s home to Doctor Who. 

You rested your head on his shoulder.

“He wants me to spin the story or to quit.”

“What are you leaning towards?” He asked gently.


“We could move to England together. We could have a life together, if you would want that.” He looked at you expectantly and it took you a moment to realize he was actually asking.

You thought of everyone here, everyone you would be leaving behind but for someone that you loved. For someone that loved you. You thought of the president, him urging you to find and sit under your own vine and fig tree. You thought of Angelica, her exclaiming that this is your chance at happiness and she’ll be damned if you don’t take it.

You thought of Alexander and the mess he made.

The mess you needed to clean up, not for Alexander.

No, not for him.

But for Eliza, Maria, Angelica and the President. 

“Not yet."