#john f more jr

[laderniereseancedecedrique]

LE FLIC DE BEVERLY HILLS : AXEL F. (2024)

Alors que la fille d'Axel, Jane, défend entant qu'avocate un jeune délinquant impliqué dans une affaire de meurtre, Billy Rosewood qui enquêtait sur cette affaire disparaît. Axel Foley retourne à Beverly Hills pour retrouver son ami et résoudre cette affaire avec l'aide de Jane et de l'ex-petit ami de celle-ci, l'inspecteur Bobby Abbott.

[milliondollarbaby87]

Beverly Hills Cop: Axel F (2024) Review

Axel Foley returns to Beverly Hills after his daughter has her life threatened, which sees him reunite with John Taggart and Billy Rosewood. Managing to cause mayhem again but still manages to uncover a conspiracy. ⭐️⭐️⭐️ Continue reading Beverly Hills Cop: Axel F (2024) Review

[lifeonmarz-blog]

💰 Easiest Placements for wealth 💰

Creativity manifested into materials. These placements help creating abundance be more of a second nature. Rather through mentorship or investing time into particular interest.

Jupiter in the 2nd House

Mark Zuckerberg, Jay Z, Bill Gates, Selena Gomez, Madonna, Lee Van Cleef, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, William Shakespeare, Kylie Jenner, Julia Roberts, Donald Trump, Shakira, Justin Timberlake, Katy Perry, Celine Dion, Ivana Trump, Zendaya, Steve Ballmer (mircosoft)

Jupiter in the 8th House

Coco Chanel, Drake, Micheal Jackson, Tiger Woods, John F Kennedy, Joe Biden, Gigi Hadid, Janet Jackson, Al Capone, LeBron James, Pierre Balmain, Pink, Snoop Dogg, Ray Charles, Jennifer Lawrence. Naomi Campbell, Ellen DeGeneres, Eleanor Roosevelt, Ashanti, Mr Beast

Pluto in the 2nd House

Robert Downey Jr., Lauryn Hill, Cher, Robert Deniro, Johnny Depp, Arnold Schwarzenegger, Marilyn Manson, Michael B. Jordan, Usher, Bill Gates, Ari Fletcher, Phil Knight (nike)

Moon in the 2nd House

Elon Musk, Princess Diana, Pablo Escobar, Lee Iacocca, Blueface, Miuccia Prada, Lauren London, Drew Barrymore, Julia Roberts, Avril Lavigne, NBA Youngboy, Coco Chanel, Beyonce, AR AB, Raven Symone, Demi Moore, Kai Cenat, SZA, Kendall Jenner

Do you have any of these placements?

[deadpresidents]

You're suggesting that I read a book about LBJ???

Should I pick one from this bookcase, or the other FULL bookcase I have that entirely consists of books about Lyndon Baines Johnson and/or the Johnson Administration?

The idea that Lyndon Johnson had to be "dragged to sign the civil rights act by a republican congress" is as laughable as the claim that Donald Trump did more for Black people than any President since Lincoln. Republicans were absolutely essential to passing LBJ's multiple pieces of significant civil rights legislation but Lyndon Johnson was the driving force behind every civil rights bill that he signed into law. Any brief study of the Civil Rights Movement or time spent listening to the tapes of President Johnson's phone calls tirelessly working to win Republican votes clearly tells the actual story.

The passage of LBJ's most important civil rights legislation -- particularly the Civil Rights Act of 1964 and Voting Rights Act of 1965 -- was the result of LBJ's incredible mastery of the legislative process and fierce determination to enact meaningful civil rights laws. And if you don't want to take my word for it, go back and read what Black leaders since Martin Luther King Jr. have been saying for nearly 60 years about LBJ's essential role as a leader and as a partner in getting real legislation pushed through Congress and formally signed into law. John F. Kennedy couldn't have accomplished what LBJ did on civil rights and there's not a Republican President who would have even tried.

There are plenty of subjects that I am not even close to being an expert about, but I can guarantee you that I've studied Lyndon Johnson extensively and his accomplishments in domestic policy -- specifically civil rights -- is one area where I know what I am talking about.

[floralcyanide]

⊱ 𝑆𝑡𝑎𝑦 𝐺𝑜𝑙𝑑 ― 𝐶𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑜𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑢𝑠 𝑆𝑛𝑜𝑤 ⊰

[ ᴀ ʜᴜɴɢᴇʀ ɢᴀᴍᴇs ᴀʟᴛᴇʀɴᴀᴛɪᴠᴇ ᴜɴɪᴠᴇʀsᴇ ғᴀɴғɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ]

1960s ᴜs ᴘʀᴇsɪᴅᴇɴᴛᴀʟ ᴄᴀɴᴅɪᴅᴀᴛᴇ!ᴄᴏʀɪᴏʟᴀɴᴜs sɴᴏᴡ x ғᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑝𝘵𝑒𝑟 𝑠𝑖𝑥 (ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑐𝑎𝑛𝘰𝑛𝑠): 𝑖𝑛𝘵𝘰 𝘵ℎ𝑒 𝑏𝑙𝑎𝑐𝑘

౨ৎ 18+ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀs ᴏɴʟʏ !

⊹ summary: the years following you and Coriolanus’ wedding.

⊹ pairing: young!coriolanus snow / fem!reader

⊹ warnings: major character death, mentions of death, mentions of illness, assassination, violence, rioting, mentions of pregnancy, grief

⊹ word count: 1264

⊹ author’s note: I PROMISE I WROTE THIS BEFORE THE EVENTS OF YESTERDAY LOL. (the assassination attempt against trump) I noticed the other day it had been longer than I had thought that I had updated this fic. and I've only just gotten around to feeling like writing. but it's coincidental, I swear; this has been in the plot document for this fic for a while. I hope everyone enjoys this update and I'm sorry in advance lol

౨ৎ divider credit: @cafekitsune

౨ৎ sᴇʀɪᴇs ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ | sᴇʀɪᴇs sᴏᴜɴᴅᴛʀᴀᴄᴋ | sᴇʀɪᴇs ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ

౨ৎ this fic has been cross posted to ao3.

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ.

❝Let us not emphasize all on which we differ but all we have in common. Let us consider not what we fear separately but what we share together.❞ ― John F. Kennedy

✲ Being Coriolanus’ wife meant meeting a lot of people very quickly, including none other than Martin Luther King Jr. He and the Kennedys have worked closely together during Jack’s presidency, and since Coriolanus was leading the polls, the man decided it was time to meet the striking blonde politician to discuss some things.

✲ You and MLK Jr.’s wife, Coretta, chat at the dinner the Kings had set up while the two men wander off to talk privately. She asks you if you have thought about having children as of yet, and you sigh with a knowing smile, “We’ve been thinking about it.”

✲ It’s been a thing for the media and just about everyone to ask when you and Coriolanus were having kids. You felt pressure, but Coriolanus assured you that you could wait until you were ready. 

✲ The day after your dinner with the Kings, the names of the women who are the face of the Women’s Revolution are splattered across news outlets everywhere due to their march in Washington. Katniss Everdeen and Lucy Gray Baird Lead America’s Women!

✲ Coriolanus is bombarded with questions everywhere he’s seen. But he says to wait until the debate for any further comments about the matter. You worry about the escalation of the movement but decide to keep to yourself about it. Even though you’re nearly finished with your higher education, you’re still a woman, so your opinion doesn’t matter much politically at the moment. 

✲ The debate comes and goes, with Coriolanus still leading the polls. It seems this election is secured for him so far. However, some of the major events happening right now are bothering him, so he decides to pay Jack a visit in the White House, you tagging along, of course. Coriolanus asks him how he managed to make decisions during the Bay of Pigs invasion and during the Cuban Missile Crisis.

✲ “There are going to be difficult times, Coriolanus. But don’t let it scare you. In fact, let it inspire you to work harder to make a change.” 

✲ Coriolanus is more sure of himself after that. November comes around, and to no one’s surprise, Coriolanus wins the 1964 Election by a large margin, with Sejanus Plinth as his Vice President. 

✲ The first year is hard, but it is for every president. You eventually finish your research on Jack and present your work, earning your hard-earned diploma. You are now a doctor in political science. Everyone is extremely proud, including your fellow Americans. They beg the question of what you’re to do with your accomplishments if women don’t have the same opportunities as men. To which you answer, “We shall figure that out soon.” You are certain Coriolanus will go through with his promises.

✲ 1966 comes around the corner almost menacingly. Tensions are high- riots break out in the streets over economic trouble, and women are growing tired of the poor treatment of their employers. Bobby and MLK Jr. seem to fuel the fire when they speak out against the violence in the streets, saying there’s a better way to get the point across. 

✲ Jack falls ill and ends up in the hospital in late February. Coriolanus puts meetings and speeches on hold, clearing the entire week out of duties to visit Jack. You are by his side as he watches his best friend suffer. The family comes back together to take care of Jack. You try your best to console Jackie as she’s beside herself with worry. 

✲ “I don’t think he’s going to pull out of this one, darling,” Jackie frowns, “He isn’t young and isn’t able to bounce back like he used to. I’m afraid this is it.” You assure Jackie her husband will be fine, but you aren’t so sure. The pneumonia doesn’t seem to be resolving itself.

✲ A week after Jack is admitted to the hospital, he dies. Coriolanus and Bobby are on one side of his bed, Jackie and the kids on the other as Jack takes his last breath. You hold yourself together as long as possible until you and Coriolanus eventually return to the White House. When you settle in your room for privacy, you lose it. You burst into tears as you picked up and tossed anything readily available next to you across the room. 

✲ Coriolanus pulls you into his arms, trying to calm you to the best of his ability. Both of you cry together over losing a friend. A friend who happened to bring the two of you together in life and love. 

✲ More tragedy strikes the family. Bobby holds a convention to speak out in favor of women’s rights, but only under one condition- that the rioting stops. This angers many, causing a fight to break out and eventually, shots are fired. One was aimed directly at Bobby’s head. He doesn’t survive.

✲ You knew Bobby’s wife, Ethel, very well, and you and Jackie are there for her in her time of need. The Kennedy family is in shambles at this point. Everyone seems to think that the women from the movement are responsible for assassinating Bobby, but no one has proof. It isn’t until August that someone is held responsible.

✲ Martin Luther King Jr. Shot in Memphis is across every headline around the world. Yet another significant figure is brought down. Yet another friend is murdered. Yet another wife is to be consoled by other women who have been in her shoes, losing a husband suddenly. You aren’t sure what to think anymore.

✲ The radical members of the Women’s Revolution refuse to take sole responsibility for the assassinations, but some are arrested for conspiracy anyway. Many suspect Katniss Everdeen or Lucy Gray Baird as the masterminds of the plots.

✲ With the darkness of the world growing as each day passes, you don’t realize you’ve missed your period. When you do, you figure it’s from the stress of losing dear friends. But Coriolanus urges you to go to the doctor anyway.

✲ In December 1966, you find out you are pregnant. You decide, no matter the gender, their name is to be Kennedy, after your dear friends you’ve lost.

✲ The First Lady being pregnant is a beacon of hope for the nation in its darkest hour. Everyone waits patiently for you to start showing and to find out what gender the baby is. 

✲ Coriolanus decides to be bold and requests to do a motorcade through D.C. to lift the spirits of the people. The Secret Service is weary but obliged to Coriolanus’ wishes. 

✲ When in the motorcade, you clutch Coriolanus’ hand nervously. “Go on, sweetheart,” Coriolanus mumbles in your ear, “Wave to the people. They love it, they love you.” You stare at your husband for a moment in absolute awe as he basks in the glow of attention from the crowd. He effortlessly smiles, his eyes twinkling in unbridled pride- a rare emotion you see from him. Sure, he has his moments of pride, but not like this. The last time he looked this happy was the day he married you. 

✲ It’s been hard for Coriolanus, you’ve noticed. Juggling the presidency while losing those close to him. But you think today has helped more than you possibly could have, especially since you’ve been grieving, too. 

[sillybigbird]

OKAY, SO. Silvie here, before starting I'd like to remind you my IC accounts is @babsggordon and its the only one I mannage.

Previous recaps:

Now

This are are the events of the past week (In order from I remember):

Lazarus Pit

Gothamites started to randomly sip them, encouraged by the numerous PSA's saying to not to.

Alzhul discovers that his pit is being used underground by a lot of other organizations including the court of owls. But also he discovers the experimental additions to the pit are making people expell their organs off, he decided to work on a antidote to add at the pit because theres no way to get gothamites away from it (LMAO). Hes having a lil redention arc

Multiverse

Theres a lot of alternative versions appearing, the most popular are more Dick Grayson's appearing out of nowhere and a lot of there people crashing, so far this are the ones that I know.

Spiderman everywhere, it started with our lovely Peach.

Starfire

Tommy Shepard

Deadpool and one of his variants

Julian Gordon

This is not multiverse but since we're talking of additions we should mention Lux and his initial arc who consisted in dating Crimson, Deadpool, Nightwing by Circus-champion, Kyle, and John Constantine (who also joined this week).

Duke also joined us. (Hi Duke o//)

Helena also joined us

Kidnapping

This was a popular topic this week, this were the kidnaps and consecuences:

Jason: A guy named Evangeline claiming being Jason's original partner appears in our universes Dick Graysons Anons with threats of kidnap Jason, and he does but Constantine, help us rescue him. And they're chilling with Hinata, Deadpool, and Crimson in there where Giovanna Talon appears to attack everyone. Lux f*cking kills her and revives him

Giovanna: That attack was useful to kidnap her and so, Hinata, Crimson, Lux and Babs are trying to debrainwash her.

Dick Grayson: Babs and Wally kidnaps Renegade and retrieve them back to the "Bat's army" (idk how to call it).

Random and pending events

Damian and Jon Start dating

Hinata and Tommy start Dating

Aswell Bart but I missed with who

JJ is apparently fine!

Blackhawk (Hal Jordan) is kinda having his redemption arc but as Talon where he just stopped pushing g everyone away lmao

An apple, TWO faces and joker are fighting for gothams mayor elections

Update on Babs events

She and Dick adopted a new kitty

James Gordon Jr is back and she's losing her head everytime he's around

She's also trying to protect Julian not only from the pit and Talon mess, but now James can find him and she's kinda stressed out

Food poisoning :(

Current events I know of but there still going on and it's not mostly of common canon knowledge

Deadpool did an feather errand for the coos (oh boy)

Jason is getting an ultrasound 👍

If I missed something feel free to add

Additions

By @why-rock-look-tasty-if-no-eat

(Bart got with Jamie. Jason and Roy adopted Damians little brother (Yao I think?) not to long ago to. Jason, Liang, and Joker also had an arc or are still going with it I don't remember. Dick "notnotnightwing" got bought by the COO apparently because he asked them out as a joke so that he wouldn't get killed. Damian got another animal, RR totally got mauled by a (different) cat. Another Nightwing "officialnightwing" is like, flirting(?) with a reporter whose trying to prove that the Waynes are the Bats.)

[truth4ourfreedom]

GESARA (THE GLOBAL ECONOMIC SECURITY & REFORMATION ACT) IS HERE AND THE ROTHCHILDS, ROCKEFELLERS & THE MONEY CONTROLLERS ARE SHAKING IN THEIR SHOES!!!!!

John F. Kennedy Jr. Declares ‘GESARA Will Soon Be Available Worldwide’: Insight into the Largest Wealth Redistribution in Human History!

John F. Kennedy Jr. has declared, “GESARA WILL SOON BE AVAILABLE WORLDWIDE.” This isn't just a policy shift—it’s the signal of a global revolution. GESARA, the Global Economic Security and Reformation Act, stands ready to reshape the world’s financial system in ways most cannot imagine. It’s not just about redistributing wealth—it’s about reclaiming power.

The United States, once a towering force, is no longer at the helm of this change. The BRICS nations, led by Russia, China, and others, are stepping up, enforcing GESARA and forcing the global economic system to shift. Why has the U.S. lost its grip? It’s because the global elite who controlled the U.S. financial system can feel the ground shifting beneath them. Their time is up.

The dollar—once the pillar of global finance—is being dethroned. Nations are rejecting the fiat system and returning to gold-backed currencies, heralding a new era of economic sovereignty. For too long, the Rothschilds, the global bankers, and their corrupt system have enslaved the world with debt and manipulation. But GESARA is their reckoning.

Behind the scenes, a global financial reset is already in motion. The Quantum Financial System (QFS) is about to obliterate the corrupt frameworks of the old system. QFS is incorruptible, impenetrable, and designed to secure global finance from the hands of those who have manipulated it for their own gain. The old guard is scrambling, concocting distractions like alien invasions or wars to maintain their fading grip.

They’ve gone so far as to orchestrate tragedies like September 11, all to distract and control. But now, GESARA promises to end their reign. The elite's ultimate nightmare—First Contact—is nearing, an event they’ve tried to suppress for decades. This revelation of extraterrestrial life would destroy their power, exposing the depths of their lies and manipulation.

But in the face of this global awakening, what can you do? More than you think. Knowledge is power. By simply understanding what’s at stake, by recognizing the forces at play, you are reclaiming your power. The elite thrive on ignorance, but awareness is their greatest enemy.

GESARA is not a distant dream—it’s here, already rewriting the rules. The old systems of control, manipulation, and disparity are crumbling. A new world order is emerging, one where sovereign nations rise without the chains of financial enslavement. This is more than an economic shift—it’s the largest wealth redistribution in human history.

As we stand at the brink of this new era, remember this: the revolution has begun, and it’s unstoppable. GESARA is the storm sweeping through the old world, and what will rise from the ashes is a world reborn, free from the shackles of the past.

Get ready. The time is now.Join and share my channel immediately:

https://t.me/JulianAssangeWiki

[d-criss-news]

Darren Criss, Rachel Zegler and Broadway's Best Strike a Pose for PEOPLE Backstage at Elsie Fest 2024 (Exclusive)

Darren Criss kicks of Elsie Fest 2024 at The Rooftop at Pier 17 in New York City. Photo:Jenny Anderson/Laurel Hinton/Elsie Fest

Elsie Fest, the theatre-themed music festival created by Emmy-winner Darren Criss, returned to New York City for its seventh installment on Sunday, Sept. 8 with a star-studded panel of performers belting the best of Broadway and beyond to a crowd of eager fans gathered at The Rooftop at Pier 17.

The fun kicked off as the sun set on the city and continued as the lights of Manhattan and Brooklyn lit up the late summer sky.

"It's important for me to keep this distinctly New York, but also distinctly about showcasing the breath of talent and strength of this industry," Criss, 37, tells PEOPLE of the festival, which he first launched in 2015 (it returned this year after a two year absence). "It is a personal investment; not a financial one, but a spiritual and emotional investment in this community that has given me so much."

Criss, who is a veteran of Broadway and will tread the boards again this fall in the upcoming new musical Maybe Happy Ending, shares that he's in "the service industry."

"For me, this is a service to our community of people who love this world, this material, these people, this music, this tradition," Criss says. "So anything I can do to try and give more back to those that I've also been a part of my whole life is also of great importance to me."

Among the performers taking the stage were Rachel Zegler, Jordan Fisher, Joy Woods, John Gallagher Jr., Will Butler, Lizzy McAlpine and RuPaul's Drag Race alum Alaska.

----------

03 Jordan Fisher The Hamilton vet also duetted with Criss on "Dear Theodosia," the ballad from the Lin-Manuel Miranda hit.

----------

06 Darren Criss

[HQ] Darren Criss. PHOTO: Jenny Anderson/Laurel Hinton/Elsie Fest

Criss offered Glee fans plenty to cheer about with five nods to the show that made him a household name, beginning with "Teenage Dream" — the Katy Perry hit he famously covered when his character, Blaine Anderson, was first introduced on the series. He also sang "Cough Syrup" and "Arthur's Theme," two others tunes he covered on the Fox hit.

Later, Criss reunited with "Warblers" Telly Leung and Curt Mega, as well as Max Adler (who played Dave Karofsky on Glee) for a performance of "Sincere" from The Music Man.

The special guests kept coming when former costar Chord Overstreet came out to end Criss' set, reprising another song they duetted on while on Glee: Billy Joel's "Movin' Out (Anthony's Song)."

07 JC Chasez Elsewhere in his set, Criss brought out Chasez — who is penning the musical to the upcoming Frankenstein musical, Playing with Fire — for a performance of two *NSYNC hits: "It's Gonna Be Me" and "Bye Bye Bye."

"I’ve known JC Chasez for a long time from my time in Los Angeles," Criss tells PEOPLE. "I met him and we got on really well. We were writing music together and he’s just been such a bench in my life. I’ll ask him to show up for shows that I’ll play, if I’m doing ‘90s songs, he’ll come up and say yes, which is beyond my wildest dreams."

"I have to play it cool as if I think I belong singing his songs with him on stage," Criss adds." I was — I think people say this to be nice in interviews, like, ‘I was such a fan.’ But I was a f---ing fan! I am a f---ing fan of *NSYNC. I know that whole album like the back of my hand, No Strings Attached. And he was always one of my favorite singers so getting to be with him is pretty amazing."

08 Jordan Fisher, Dez Duron, Helen J Shen Other guests in Criss' set included an appearance from his Maybe Happy Ending costars Dez Duron (center) and Helen J Shen (right)

Criss and Shen performed the title track, while Duron sang the ballad, "A Sentimental Person."

09 Dez Duron, Andrew Barth Feldman and Joe Serafini Shen later joined Criss and boyfriend Andrew Barth Feldman (center) for a performance of "Granger Danger" from A Very Potter Musical.

----------

16 Darren Criss and Rachel Zegler

[HQ] Darren Criss and Rachel Zegler. PHOTO: Jenny Anderson/Laurel Hinton/Elsie Fest

Of course, no musical could be complete with a finale. And for Elsie Fest 2024, Criss brought out the full-lineup of performers and guests for a group singalong of "Defying Gravity" from Wicked.

[shoshiwrites]

Band of Brothers Ages: IRL vs. Actors

Did you know that according to a 1947 study, almost half the men who served in WWII were still under age 26 by the end of the war?

What this is : A (very long) post comparing the ages of the actors in Band of Brothers vs. the IRL figures they are portraying.

Background: Did I need to do this? No. Did anyone ask for this? Also no. Did I do it anyway? Yes.

Disclaimers: This is SUPER approximate for the most part. I based IRL ages off of D-Day unless otherwise noted, and actor ages off of January 1, 2000, the year filming took place (the latter is where the most variation will be because I didn't try to figure out what month filming started). I also didn't fact-check birthdays beyond googling. Most are sourced from the Band of Brothers and Military Wikis on fandom.com, Wikipedia, and IMDb.

I broke them up into rough categories, which are, again, approximate. I know I often forget how young the real life people were here, and this was a good reminder of that. I also found it interesting to see which actors were actually younger than their roles!

Check it all out under the cut ⬇️

~10+ years older

Dale Dye (55) as Col. Robert F. Sink (39) (~16 years)

Michael Cudlitz (35) as Denver "Bull" Randleman (23) (~12)

Marc Warren (32) as Albert Blithe (20) (~12)

Rocky Marshall (33) as Earl J. McClung (21) (~12)

Frank John Hughes (32) as William J. Guarnere (21) (~11)

Neal McDonough (33) as Lynn D. (Buck) Compton (22) (~11)

Dexter Fletcher (33) as John W. Martin (22) (~11)

~5+ years older

Simon Schatzberger (32) as Joseph A. Lesniewski (23) (~9)

Richard Speight Jr. (30) Warren H. (Skip) Muck (22) (~8)

Jason O'Mara (30) as Thomas Meehan (22) (~8)

Ron Livingston (32) as Lewis Nixon (25) (~7)

Donnie Wahlberg (30) as C. Carwood Lipton (24) (~6)

Matthew Settle (30) as Ronald C. Speirs (24) (~6)

Nolan Hemmings (28) as Charles E. "Chuck" Grant (22) (~6)

Douglas Spain (25) as Antonio C. Garcia (19) (~6)

George Calil (26) as James H. "Mo" Alley Jr. (21) (~5)

Rick Gomez (27) as George Luz (22) (~5 year)

Scott Grimes (28) as Donald G. Malarkey (23) (~5)

Stephen Graham (26) as Myron "Mike" Ranney (21) (~5)

~less than 5 years older

Shane Taylor (25) as Eugene G. Roe (21) (~4)

Tim Matthews (23) as Alex M. Penkala Jr. (19) (~4)

Matthew Leitch (24) as Floyd M. "Tab" Talbert (20) (~4)

Peter O'Meara (30) as Norman S. Dike Jr. (26) (~4)

Tom Hardy (22) as John A. Janovec (18) (~4)

Rick Warden (28) as Harry F. Welsh (25) (~3)

Kirk Acevedo (28) as Joseph D. Toye (25) (~3)

Eion Bailey (25) as David Kenyon Webster (22) (~3)

Craig Heaney (26) as Roy W. Cobb (29) (~3)

Damian Lewis (28) as Richard D. Winters (26) (~2)

Robin Laing as Edward J. "Babe" Heffron (~2, 21/23)

Ben Caplan (26) as Walter S. "Smokey" Gordon Jr. (24) (~2)

David Schwimmer (32) as Herbert M. Sobel (33) (~1 year)

Michael Fassbender (22) as Burton P. "Pat" Christenson (21) (~1)

Colin Hanks (22) as Lt. Henry Jones (21) (~1) (age around Bastogne)

Bart Ruspoli (23) as Edward J. Tipper (22) (~1)

~Same age

Peter Youngblood Hills as Darrell C. "Shifty" Powers (21)

Mark Huberman as Lester "Les" Hashey (19)

Younger

Lucie Jeanne (23) as Renée Lemaire (30) (age around Bastogne) (~7)

Ross McCall (23) as Joseph D. Liebgott (29) (~6)

Simon Pegg (29) as William S. Evans (~33) (~4)

Philip Barantini (19) as Wayne A. "Skinny" Sisk (22) (~3)

James Madio (24) as Frank J. Perconte (27) (~3)

Stephen McCole (25) as Frederick "Moose" Heyliger (27) (~2)

Matt Hickey (~16) as Patrick S. O'Keefe (18) (~2)

Incomplete/not found

Phil McKee as Maj. Robert L. Strayer (34)

Rene L. Moreno as Joseph Ramirez (30)

Doug Allen as Alton M. More (24)

David Nicolle as Lt. Thomas A. Peacock (24)

Rebecca Okot as Anna (Augusta Chiwy) (24) (age around Bastogne)

Alex Sabga-Brady as Francis J. Mellet (23)

Mark Lawrence as William H. Dukeman Jr. (22)

Nicholas Aaron as Robert E. (Popeye) Wynn (22)

Peter McCabe as Donald B. Hoobler (21)

Marcos D'Cruze as Joseph P. Domingus (not found)

[darkmaga-retard]

In a recent explosive interview with Tucker Carlson, Robert F. Kennedy Jr. dropped a bombshell about his willingness to take on a role that would shake Washington to its core: CIA Director. But the revelations didn’t stop there.

When asked by Carlson whether he would accept the role of CIA Director if offered, RFK Jr. didn’t hesitate but acknowledged the political hurdles he would face in securing Senate confirmation.

He explained that the intelligence agencies are fiercely protected by powerful committees in both the Senate and the House, committees that have long been “safeguarding” the interests of the intelligence community.

Kennedy acknowledged that his appointment would be a direct threat to the entrenched powers within these committees, making his confirmation an unlikely prospect.

Tucker Carlson: The CIA, I mean, a lot of roads lead back, unfortunately, to our most powerful intelligence agency. If you were asked, would you run it? Would you become CIA director if you were asked? RFK Jr.: Yes, I would, but I would never get Senate confirmation. As you know, the intelligence agencies are protected by very, very powerful committees in the Senate and in the House that are already into the project. The people who serve on those committees are safeguarding that directorship, and I would be very dangerous for those committees. Tucker Carlson: Yet in your joint appearance on Friday, President Trump introduced you by saying that he plans to, if elected, establish a commission to declassify the remaining documents regarding your uncle’s murder in 1963. RFK Jr.: Yeah. Tucker Carlson: I think everyone at this point knows the truth, which is the CIA is implicated in that. Those documents protect the CIA, maybe, among others. RFK Jr.: Well, whether they do or not, it’s odd that they’ve not allowed them to be released. Tucker Carlson: What could possibly be the reason? RFK Jr.: More than 60 years after my uncle’s death, almost 65 years. None of the people who were implicated in that crime are alive now. The last ones have died off in the last year or two. It clearly is to protect the institution. That’s wrong. It’s just wrong. It’s wrong for a Democrat, and it’s wrong for a Republican.

But the most shocking revelation came when RFK Jr. discussed President Trump’s 2020 campaign promise to declassify the remaining documents related to his uncle, President John F. Kennedy’s, assassination.

[celticcrossanon]

M is going to smash plates in Montecito, lol. NY Post has a scathing op-ed shredding M's fantasy to be like Carolyn Bessette-Kennedy, the wife of John F. Kennedy Jr. FYI, M has tried to emulate CBK before by copying her outfits as a working Royal. NY Post article "Why Meghan Markle is no Carolyn Bessette Kennedy" by Caroline Bullock. CBK and John Jr had a tragically short, dysfunctional marriage but they never sat down and complained to Oprah in a tell-all interview about their problems either.

Hi Nonny,

It is so nice to see Meghan being called out in the media instead of all the sugary articles about her that we have had to endure in the past. Yes, the sugar is still there, but it is no longer wall to wall, thank goodness.

Meghan cemented herself as 'not one of us' with that interview. I don't think she has ever recovered from the hit it gave to her reputation (in terms of manners, class, good taste etc) and the interview itself seems worse the more time that passes, imo.

Link to article in ask

[hengqarae]

to the victor go the spoils

PAIRING ❄ lee chan x afab!reader WORD COUNT ❄ 11.3k GENRE ❄ chan is a bartender au, romance, smut (minors dni), mutual pining, angst WARNINGS ❄ legal alcohol consumption, making out, swearing, oral (f receiving), not proofread

chan is the bartender at your favorite restaurant, and you're his favorite patron: the person that comes in every single week with a new guy, always wearing the same perfume and always ordering the same thing, always complaining to him about the losers that your father keeps setting you up with. he'll lose his mind soon if he keeps having to watch you on these shitty dates. how much longer until he's declared the winner and you finally choose him?

PLAYLIST ❄ love language by sza / go crazy by leslie odom jr. / vanilla by kai / lies by marina and the diamonds / what can i do by reneé rapp / nervous by john legend / chance with you by mehro / maroon by taylor swift / toy by block b FROM THE AUTHOR ❄ thanks for reading <3 the beginning is stronger than the end because i got covid in the midst of this and lost my motivation, but i hope you enjoy it regardless! have a safe and fun transition into the new year, if you observe it :)

Chan thinks that he must be losing his mind. 

He started bartending when he was in college, just as soon as he was legally able to do so. Known for having a competitive streak, the fact that he needed to pass a test to obtain licensure to serve alcohol spurred him on more than it should have. He was even more motivated when his friend, Soonyoung, wasn’t able to pass it himself. He landed a job at one of the more upscale restaurants almost immediately and being downtown meant that the people were more affluent and, thus, more generous. It was a total win for him, and nearly three years later, he’s still around. Chan only really bartends on weekends, reserving his weekdays to get his schoolwork done. In all honestly, he doesn’t need the job. He’s never needed it, but he’s stuck around for so long because he enjoys meeting different types of people; he likes hearing the deep, dark secrets that spill out once enough alcohol has been consumed; and he really appreciates the ego boost that he gets every time an older woman comes in and tips him generously, just because they think he’s cute. 

It’s not his job that’s making him feel like he’s losing his mind. He likes his job, and he’ll be satisfied with the time he’s spent behind his bar once he finally graduates and moves on to something more applicable to his degree. No, he feels like he’s losing his mind because of one specific patron. There’s this one gorgeous individual that comes in every Friday night, always meeting a different man, but always wearing the same floral perfume and wearing the same silver necklace that dangles around their neck, resting on their sternum, glinting in the dim lights of the restaurant. This person always arrives early and sits at the bar, talking with Chan about school, about their family, about how poorly they know their date will go. They’re always sitting at the same table, one of the ones closest to the bar, and they always order the same thing. The dates always last two hours and not one minute longer, and Chan always feels a sense of longer after they bid him farewell and leave the restaurant, the scent of their perfume never lingering for long enough. 

Chan is absolutely enamored with this one individual, but he’d rather plead insanity than admit that. 

“Hi Chan,” You sigh, sliding onto the barstool that was situated directly in front of him. You shift until you’re comfortable, placing your bag on the counter. Chan, in the middle of washing and drying his shaker, offers you a smile without actually looking up at you. His heart has been racing since he caught sight of you walking in, and he’s afraid that if he looks at you, it’ll induce a heart attack. He could already tell from across the restaurant that you looked good, even better than usual. You smell even better than usual, too. He’s sure that nothing has actually changed, though, and that serves as just another sign that he’s losing his mind. “How was your week?” 

You follow his movements with your eyes as he places the shaker on the counter, throwing his hand towel over his shoulder and wiping his forehead with the back of one of his hands. One of his rings catches the light and you’re drawn to his hand, shifting uncomfortably on your stool when you notice how pretty his hands are. It takes you another minute to notice, but his hair’s lighter this week than it was last week. He must have had more free time than usual, dying it and all. “It was okay. I lost a bet and had to dye my hair. I’m also considering sleeping with my neuroscience professor so that I pass the class. “ 

“Your exam didn’t go well, then?” Chan shakes his head. “Is she cute, at least?” 

“Yeah, he’s pretty easy on the eyes!” 

He’s able to make you laugh so effortlessly. You throw your head back, hands gripping the countertop so that you don’t lose your balance and slide off your seat. Chan smiles to himself, turning so that he can start mixing you up a drink. This week, like every other week, you were going to get whatever he decided to give you. It’s not like he charged you for drinks anyway. When you finally settle your laughter, wiping away a tear that had started to collect at your waterline, you watch him make his drink. You smoothen your expression when you realize the fond smile that was plastered on your face for everybody to see, and your heart aches when you think about leaving Chan to sit through another dry, humorless, boring date for two hours. 

This was the reason you always made sure to arrive early at the restaurant. You always insisted on driving yourself, you always made sure to arrive thirty minutes early, and you always soaked in as much time as you could get with Chan before you were subjected to yet another torturous date that your father had planned out for you. Your dates were never able to hold a conversation as well as Chan could. With him, words flowed naturally. He didn’t talk about himself too much, and he remembered anything that you told him, and you had considered, on multiple occasions, skipping your dates in favor of sitting with Chan through your shift. Up until now, you had never been able to find the courage to do so. 

Only recently, you had realized that maybe, possibly, you had started to harbor a little crush on him. Keeping that in consideration, it was unlikely that you would ever find the courage to engage in anything further with him. Your weekly chats were doomed to remain as weekly, thirty-minute occurrences, no matter how much more of him you found yourself craving. 

“What about you? How was your week?” 

“It was okay.” You echo his words, eyes trailing his movements again as he sets your drink in front of you. He steps away to tend to the other patrons, and your heart aches again as you watch him laugh and flirt with the females perched at the bar. You aren’t jealous, per se – you've known Chan for long enough to be able to recognize his fake, polite smiles from his genuine ones, and you’re able to find some comfortable in the fact that the smiles he gives you are different from the one he’s offering to those other customers right now. You hum quietly and take a sip of your cocktail, eyebrows knitting together as you taste it. When Chan returns, you ask what he made you. 

“It’s called a Painkiller.” He grins, grabbing the bottle of rum he had mixed in to show you what he had used. “I figured you were going to need one. Today is lucky number seventeen, right?” 

You raise your eyebrows, a smile growing on your face. “How did you remember that?” 

“It’s a good number.” He shrugs, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back against the other side of the bar. “So, your week was okay? Why’s that?” 

You sigh, massaging your temples to prevent the headache that tended to appear whenever you recounted everything that was stressing you out. “I have my thesis proposal in a few weeks, and my defense closer to the end of the semester, but my dad is still incessant on setting me up on these dates. He wants me to be engaged by graduation, but I don’t even know if I want to be married. It feels like a war of attrition.” 

“Should I make you another one? A little stronger?” 

He’s just joking, evident by his grin, but you almost want to take him up on his offer. Tonight’s date, whose name you couldn’t even recall, was projected to be especially bad. The guys that your dad seemed to like the most always ended up being the worst. You straighten yourself back up with another sigh, and Chan curses under his breath as you offer him a tired smile that makes his stomach somersault in response. Your lipstick smudges against the glass as you take another sip of your drink, and he thinks that the shade you’re wearing tonight would look good on him, too. 

Just not on his lips. 

“It’s so tiring.” You take another long sip of your drink, your tongue poking out to collect the liquid that had gotten caught at the corner of your mouth. Chan has to look away, face nearly contorting in pain as he feels himself straining against his pants. He’s thankful to be hidden behind the bar tonight; you looked and smelled even better up close. He’s more thankful that your outfit is a little more conservative than what you had worn last week. That white outfit had revealed just enough to put his imagination into overdrive. He was still thinking about how good you had looked. He had jacked himself off to thoughts of removing the outfit, draping it carefully over the back of his desk chair before fucking you into his mattress, more times than he’d feel comfortable admitting to anyone. He has to squeeze his eyes shut and take a few breaths to keep from getting hard again, turning around only when he’s ready. You had descended into a rant about your love life, and he wishes that he hadn’t entered the conversation that you were having with yourself. 

“--like, what if I don’t want to be married? That’s not crazy, it’s almost 2023! I haven’t even had sex in months because my dad keeps setting me up with losers. It’s not for lack of trying, either; these stupid dates occupy all of my free time, and the only redeeming part of these dates are the free meals and being able to sit with you beforehand. I’m exhausted, though, Chan. Seriously. I-I don’t even know who I’m supposed to be meeting tonight! My dad says that he really likes him, but I don’t even know what his name is. It’s either Minho, or Mingyu... it could be Minhyung, too, though. I don’t--” 

As much as Chan would enjoy talking about your sex life with you, his attention is brought from you to the door of the restaurant, and he straightens up as a young man walks into the space. There’s no doubt that he’s your date, Minho or Mingyu or Minhyung or whatever, if his Armani suit, Rolex watch, and excess of hair gel is anything to go by. Chan clears his throat, looking from the man to you and then back as the man continues his trek toward the bar. “Should I start a tab for you?” 

That was code. You straighten your own posture, taking a deep breath before turning in your seat, a saccharine smile decorating your features. Chan knows you too well by now to be fooled by the mask that you slip on whenever you’re on a date. He collects your bag as you’re led away by your date, tucking it underneath the bar while he starts washing some glasses. The sight of you getting whisked away had become nausea-inducing for him, and tonight was no exception. As soon as you had taken your date’s hand, Chan had looked away to avoid getting sick. He keeps an inconspicuous eye on you as your date pulls out your chair for you, busying himself as you get your date started. He knows that you’d much rather be spending your time with him – you'd said so just earlier, after all – but he can’t help the dull ache in his chest at the sight of seeing you with another man. 

The only consolation for him was that he would see you again in a week’s time, laughing once again at his jokes, further exacerbating the symptoms of his lovesickness. He mutters under his breath as he finishes cleaning his glasses, setting them on the countertop to dry. He offers one final glance in your direction, his chest clenching when he sees that you’re already looking at him, in a plea for help that you both know he can’t answer. 

The bar gets crowded as the night continues, and Chan occupies himself with other patrons. He’s trying to compartmentalize, trying to forget that you were somewhere else in the restaurant, but it’s hard; with every fake laugh that he hears from you, a warmth blooms in his chest. He’s the only person in the whole joint that has ever made you genuinely laugh, and he carries that knowledge with pride. 

Two hours come and go, and just like clockwork, you bid goodbye to your date. It was unusual for you to settle back at the bar following your dates, but you chose to do so tonight. Chan knows that usually, you’re so tired from listening to your dates talk about themselves without reprieve that you just bid Chan farewell and leave immediately after your dates. He’s happy that you’re back, but there’s always a fear that lingers in the back of his mind that one day, the reason that you’ve come back is to tell him that you had a really good date and that you’d be going on another one with the same guy. He hasn’t prepared himself for when that day comes. 

“That fucking sucked,” You groan, covering your face with your hands. Chan tries, and fails, to bite back a smile, setting a glass of water down in front of you. You grumble a quiet thanks, sipping your water as the bartender floats around behind the bar, checking in and cashing out his patrons. You lean back as best as you can while sitting on a barstool, watching him as he starts cleaning up. His shift should be over soon. You always scheduled your dates halfway through Chan’s shifts so that, whenever you stuck around, you could walk out with him. It felt like a reward for getting through the awful date in the first place. 

Your breath hitches every time that Chan breezes past you, and you curse yourself for that. While your date with Minhyuk – you had learned his name, finally – hadn't been the worst date that you’d ever experienced, he was definitely getting struck from your father’s (dwindling) list of potential sons-in-law. You try to wrack your brain and figure out how many people were left on that list. Once you reach the end, you’ll need to find a new reason to come to the restaurant every week; having a crush on one of the bartenders, you’d rationalized, was not a good enough reason to come all the way downtown every Friday. 

It feels like your heart is being squeezed when you dare to look to your left and see Chan flirting with one of his female customers. Her fingers are dancing on his chest, and you nearly fall off your stool when she dares to unbutton his shirt a little more. You know that you can’t fault him for someone else’s behavior, but if generous tips meant that you could help him out of his shirt, you’d start bringing some cash with you. 

“Gimme a few more minutes!” Chan offers in passing, causing you to perk up a little. It was cathartic, spending time with him. Your dates were draining but being with Chan had the opposite effect. You felt like being with him recharged you, like you could endure another two hours with another loser if you had time with him in between. Two hours with one of your father’s dates felt like a torturous eternity, but two hours felt like ten minutes with Chan. It didn’t feel fair. 

Your stomach does a flip when Chen rounds the bar. The sleeves of his black button-down have been pushed up to his elbows, and his shirt is unbuttoned dangerously low. You knit your eyebrows together, beckoning him closer so that you can button him back up. He laughs quietly as you do it, and you hope that by ignoring the warmth that’s flooding into your face, he won’t notice it. You use his shoulder to steady yourself as you dismount from your stool, smiling as he offers you your bag. You take it, slipping it over your shoulder, tailing him as the two of you make your exit out of the restaurant. He bids farewell to the remaining staff, holding open doors for you until you’ve both made it into the elevator. 

Chan’s heart is thudding heavily against his ribcage, and he hopes that the elevator music is loud enough that you can’t hear it. This wasn’t a weekly occurrence, per se, but it was still rare that he was afforded the opportunity to walk you back to your car. His fingers itch to reach for you, to pin you against the wall of the elevator and to press his lips on every inch of your exposed skin, but he refrains. Instead, he leans against the wall, trying to appear nonchalant, while you stand, rigid, next to him, wringing your hands together. It’s not necessarily awkward, but you’re suddenly missing the bar that usually separates the two of you. Conversation flowed easier when you were able to sit safely on the other side of the bar. 

“How was your date? Bad, you said? N-No, wait, you said that it ‘fucking sucked,’ right?” 

You groan, shaking your head at the reminder of why you had come to the restaurant in the first place – something that had been lost as you sat at the bar, daydreaming about what it would be like to go on a date with Chan instead. “I-I don’t know what I’m doing wrong. It would be so easy to just, like, tolerate someone, right? I don’t know why I can’t just find someone that I can tolerate and call it a day.” 

“You have standards. Big deal.” He scoffs, trailing after you once the elevator opens. Your pace is slow as the two of you meander through the parking garage, in pursuit of a goal (your car) but with no sense of urgency. You shake your head, letting your hands fall to your sides. 

“Standards are one thing, Chan, but I haven’t had sex in months, and I haven’t even kissed anyone in weeks. I’m just so worn out from all these shitty dates. Between writing my thesis, studying and reading for my classes, and then carving out three hours every Friday night to listen to a different loser talk about himself and his stocks, I feel like I’m on a downward trajectory.” 

Chan’s eyebrows raise, but he quickly smoothens his expression because you’re turning to look at him, expectant, like he should be offering something insight or helpful. He has nothing prepared. As soon as you mentioned kissing, he started thinking about how it’d be to have you pinned against the flat surface, to have your lips on his. He clears his throat. “W-Why haven’t you been kissing your dates?” 

“I used to!” You groan, propping your hands on your hips. “I used to, but then they’d always call me the next day. So, I stopped kissing on the first date, and they stopped thinking that there would be a second date. None of them were any good, either! It was like kissing cement.” 

“Soft yet firm?” 

“Cold and wet.” 

“God, where did your dad find these guys? Reddit?” 

You laugh, and it echoes through the parking garage, and Chan feels light on his feet. He tucks his hands into his pockets, looking down at the asphalt as the two of you continue your stroll. He’s considering his options of what he could say next, and suddenly, he wishes that he’d thrown back a shot or two during his shift. “Y-You can teach someone how to be a better kisser, though. I don’t think that should be, like, a dealbreaker.” 

“I mean, sure. Yeah, that’s true. It’s... less about the actual kiss, though. Y’know?” Chan knits his eyebrows together, confused, and you sigh before elaborating. “Like... I didn’t feel anything. There should be sparks or something, but there was nothing like that. It’d probably be more gratifying to kiss a piece of cardboard.” You catch a glimpse of a column and an image of Chan pushing you up against it, lips fiery against yourself, causes you to grimace. If only. 

Chan hums in response, at a loss for words, afraid that there’s nothing left that he could offer to the conversation unless you were looking for him to get on his knees to beg, to plead, for you to give him a chance. He was a good kisser and everything! You stop walking and he lifts his head, his heart falling as he realizes that the two of you have reached your destination. He’d wasted all of his precious time convincing you that you should be less harsh on your dates if they were bad at something teachable. 

How nice of him. 

“Thanks for walking me.” You say, eyes fixating on the strands of hair that had come undone and that were resting in front of Chan’s eyes. You're itching to reach forward and sweep them out of his face, but you refrain. 

“You’re welcome.” 

The two of you lapse into silence, staring at each other. There’s a warmth that’s creeping across your body, starting in the pit of your stomach. Maybe it was tactless to talk about kissing other men in front of Chan, but a small part of you had been hoping that he would contribute differently. Maybe he would offer to kiss you. Maybe you could fulfill your desire to have his hands on you. Maybe he would press his lips against yours, and there’d be fireworks, and you wouldn’t have to feel guilty about coming to the restaurant to see him instead of going on your stupid dates. 

Chan is kind. He’s handsome. He’s gentle, and he’s funny, and he’s sexy, and there’s nothing more that you want in this moment than to have his tongue down your throat. 

He forces a smile, nodding before turning on his heel, but you reach forward to wrap your fingers around his forearm. He turns back to you, eyebrows quirked upward. It’s sitting there, right at the tip of your tongue. Can you kiss me? Can we kiss? 

You aren’t able to convince yourself to verbalize your desire, though. Instead, you open your mouth, and then close it, and release him. “S-Sorry.” 

“Are you okay?” 

No, I’m not okay, but it would make it better if you kissed me. “Yeah! I’m good. Sorry.” 

He doesn’t seem convinced, and he hesitates to say or do anything else. He’s providing you with a window of opportunity, but you aren’t ready to take it. You want to take it – God, you want him pressed against you so badly – but you just aren’t ready. You’ll suppress your feelings, at least for another week. Maybe you’d have the courage next time that you see him. 

“You’re sure?” 

“Yeah. Yeah! I’m sure. I’ll see you next week.” 

He knows you too well to accept the fake smile that you offer him, but he’s too dejected to say anything. Next week. On another date. Another date with a different man. What did he need to do to show you that he was better than all of your stupid dates, combined? 

“Okay.” He offers you a fake smile in return. “Goodnight.” 

+ + +

You should have kissed Chan. 

It was pathetic, the way that you got home that night, unable to stop thinking about him. You couldn’t stop imagining him, imagining what could have been, even after slipping your fingers into your underwear and making yourself cum... twice. You had hoped that you could scratch the itch and it would go away; that was not the case. You touched yourself while imagining that it was him, deep and slow, planting wet kisses along the column of your throat while your hands roamed all over his body. Even after orgasming, you still felt unsatisfied. 

Maybe, if you had kissed him, your curiosity would have been squashed. Maybe there wouldn’t have been any sparks. Maybe he could have told you that he wasn’t interested, and you would have been able to return to the platonic relationship that you’d had before you’d fallen in love with him. Maybe you would lose out on Chan but, eventually, you’d meet someone that you could tolerate. 

Or, maybe, you would have kissed, and it would have become something more. Maybe you could have asked him to take you in your backseat and he would have, deep and slow, fogging up the windows. Maybe you could have ignited the spark that’s always been there, and you would be able to convince your father that you were happy, that you didn’t need to meet anybody else. 

That’s why it’s Saturday night, the very next day, and you’re contemplating getting dressed up and going down to the restaurant. You didn’t have a date – you never scheduled dates outside of your Friday nights. You would be getting dressed up and fighting traffic just so that you could sit at the bar and talk to Chan. Just so, for one more night than usual, you could bask in the attention that he gave you. You could take advantage of his availability and take more than you deserved from him. 

Your body trembles at the thought of seeing him again. You could wear something more revealing; you could dress up even nicer than usual, and you could tempt him. You could dangle yourself in front of him and see if he, too, has an itch to scratch. 

But would that be fair to him? 

No, it wouldn’t. You might as well be throwing yourself at him, showing your tits and forcing him to look. Chan is a sweet guy. He’s kind and gentle, he’s funny and he’s compassionate, and you don’t need to stoop to the level of some of his other patrons, the ones that touch him and flirt with him and make him work even harder for his tips. As much as you’d love to have your hands on him, to flirt with him (and have him flirt back), you know it wouldn’t be fair to him. You’re friends now, after everything. 

You’re friends. That’s how you rationalize showing up to the restaurant in a hoodie instead. 

He spots you as soon as you walk in, smiling and laughing with the hostess, and your heartrate quickens as you cross the space. His eyes are on you the entire time, like he can’t believe that you’re real. It’s Saturday night, right? You wouldn’t be wearing that on a date, right? 

“I never thought I’d see the day.” He laughs, nervously, arms crossing over his chest as you situate yourself on your usual barstool. Why are you here right now? Should he be worried? 

You offer a bashful smile in response, face already feeling warm under his gaze. “Jenn said the same thing.” Chan continues staring at you, still trying to gauge if you were a mirage or not. You adjust the strings of your hoodie, shifting uncomfortably on your stool. “W-What?” 

“It’s not that I’m not happy to see you,” He starts, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. “I just don’t know if I should be worried that you’re here right now. This is out of character for you.” 

“I just wanted to see you.” You scoff, suddenly scrambling to add to that once you realize how it sounded. “T-To hang out with you for m-more than, like, thirty minutes.” 

Chan keeps his expression even, but internally, he’s screaming gleefully. Still, he can’t hide the small smile that blooms on his face. “Are you drinking tonight?” 

You hold up hands up, absolving yourself from the responsibility of choosing a drink. “I have no free will here, Chan. You know that.” 

“If you had done better research before showing up and asking for a ‘blue motherfucker,’ whatever the hell that even is, then I wouldn’t have taken away your freedom of choice.” He scoffs, turning around to start concocting you a drink. Today, you’ll get a vodka martini, just to keep things simple. Chan still isn’t fully convinced that he should be happy that you’ve come by, even though the warm feeling in his chest says otherwise. 

You’re grateful to be able to take your drink and gulp it down. Hopefully, the alcohol will loosen you up. You’re practically buzzing, as if you were being risky or adventurous by visiting the restaurant just to see Chan, outside of your normal routine. He’s alarmed that you’re drinking so much right from the start, and so he leans forward, resting his arms on the bar top and speaking as low as he can. “Are you okay? Seriously.” 

“Stop harassing me.” You frown, waving him off. “I’m fine, Chan. I’ll let you know if that changes.” 

He’s not convinced, but still, he steps away and takes some time to check in with the other customers. It was slow for a Saturday night; you were surprised, and also thankful, that there were barstools open. Had you not been able to sit at the bar, you probably would’ve turned around and driven home. There was no reason to come to this place if you weren’t going to be able to see Chan. 

“I’m just worried.” Chan sighs, sliding back in front of you. You groan and he holds his hands up. “Look, this is the first time I’ve ever seen you on any day other than a Friday, and this is the first time I’ve ever seen you in casual clothes, too. I’m trying to figure out if this is one of the signs of the apocalypse. There’s gotta be something you aren’t telling me.” 

“I already told you that I came to hang out with you.” 

“I’m not worth that.” 

“Says who?” 

You realize what you’ve said only after the words tumble out of your lips. You’re quick to raise your glass back to your lips, turning your face away. If Chan heard you, he doesn’t act like it. Instead, he clucks his tongue at you and steps away to tend to one of the waitresses that had approved the bar. You feel like you can stop holding your breath only after he’s stepped out of your zone of proximity. 

Chan heard you, though. He heard you loud and clear, and now he’s afraid that his heartbeat is so loud in his ears that he won’t be able to hear anything else that anyone might tell him tonight. He fumbles his way through two Cosmopolitan orders and chooses to clean his spills immediately so that he has some time to even out his breathing before he faces you again. You really came all the way downtown to see him? It doesn’t seem real to him. Was this an episode of Punk’d? 

He’s gone for long enough that you start to panic. You hadn’t betrayed yourself that badly, so why was he keeping his distance? Maybe he’s known all along that you have a crush on him, and maybe you just confirmed it for it, and now, you’ve ruined your friendship and any possibility of becoming more than friends, which means you can’t come back to the restaurant anymore and-- 

“Do you want another, or do you want something different?” 

Chan gestures to your drink. You look down, see it’s empty, and realize that you hadn’t even realized you had finished it off. “Surprise me.” Preferably, with something stronger. 

Your knowledge of cocktails and liquor in general was, admittedly, poor. However, you feel proud of yourself when you’re able to identify what Chan has made you before he even hands it to you. In fact, if you had to pick a favorite cocktail, you’d probably say Shirley Temple. Chan notices how wide you smile when he sets your drink down, and he makes a mental note to add Shirley Temples into your rotation of drinks. 

“How much longer ‘til you’re off?” You ask, stirring your drink. Chan takes a moment to check his watch. 

“In... eight minutes.” 

You raise your eyebrows, checking the time for yourself on your phone. You had intended to leave your apartment right at seven, but it was already almost nine. You must have spent more time than you realized to deliberate coming here or not. “What are you doing after you’re off?” 

“Usually, I’d be going home. Unless...” Your heartrate quickens in anticipation. Chan takes a breath, steeling himself. “I have another neuroscience exam coming up in a few weeks. What are the odds you’d want to help me study?” 

“I’m better at human anatomy, but I can try.” 

Chan realizes what you’ve said before you do, and he’s laughing so hard that he has to turn around to compose himself. You groan, rubbing your temples, a nervous smile decorating your features. If you had only used a different tone, you could’ve taken the opportunity to try and flirt with Chan. Instead, he wipes tears from his eyes, still laughing quietly. You’re left to ruminate while he starts his final rounds, cashing out patrons and bidding his farewells with a newfound pep in his step. You don’t notice, too focused on cursing yourself internally. 

You’re forced to chug down your drink only when you notice that Chan is already rounding the bar. He gapes at you before laughing again. “You’re gonna be so drunk later.” 

“I’ll be fine.” You huff, taking his outstretched hand to help yourself down from your stool. You almost whine at the loss of touch when he pulls his hand back, but your chest flutters when he settles behind you, hand pressing against your lower back to usher you through the restaurant that had finally started to become crowded. He bids one final farewell to Jenn, the hostess, his cheeks burning as she gestures between the two of you and winks. Chan’s thankful that you didn’t notice. 

He knows that it’s only a matter of time until your intoxication hits, and since he’s never seen you drunk before, he needs to get you to a more controlled setting. Chan can only assume that you’re a lightweight based on the partying stories you’ve told him, and his hand had been a little heavier tonight than usual – he was going to blame that on you, breaking your routine and thoroughly shaking him up. 

“This is the part where I find out that you’re actually a murderer, right?” You tease, rocking back and forth on your heels as the elevator makes it descent. 

Chan laughs, shaking his head. “Unfortunately, I’m not a murderer.” 

“Unfortunately?” 

“That’s what I said,” He’s nonchalant as you follow him out and back into the parking garage. You’re getting déjà vu, but you’re trying your best to swallow down the same urges that you had last night. Instead, you’re quiet as you follow him through the garage to his car. Chan hums quietly to himself, his hands tucked into his pockets again. Only once you’ve reached his car does he pull them out, opening the passenger door for you. You quirk your eyebrows at him, an amused smile ghosting your lips. The tips of his ears bloom red almost immediately. “D-Don’t look at me like that!” 

“Like what?” You laugh, feigning innocence as he closes the door, and you twist to buckle yourself in. He shakes his head at you again, climbing in and getting the car started. Almost immediately, his fingers itch to reach out and lace with yours, but he swallows thickly, choosing to ignore that urge. “Your car will be safe here while we’re gone.” 

“This means that you’re committing to bringing me back here, though. No matter when we finish tonight.” 

Chan holds up one of his hands while he eases his steering wheel with the other. “I promise to uphold that commitment.” 

“You’re annoying.” You scoff, without any real bite to your words. Chan smiles in response, and soon, the car lapses into silence. The radio of his car plays softly while he navigates the car through downtown, but to your surprise, he’s pulling into another garage only a few minutes later. “Wait, do you live downtown?” 

“Is that surprising?” 

“Yes, actually. Why aren’t you walking to work?” 

“Because it’s winter. Plus, I don’t want to get kidnapped.” 

“Why would you get kidnapped?” 

“Cute people get kidnapped.” 

“So why are you worried?” 

Chan sucks in a breath before he reaches over and pinches your thigh. You swat him away, laughing, warning him that he was going to crash if he didn’t pay attention to the road. Begrudgingly, he returns both of his hands to the steering wheel, but not without muttering a few insults back at you under his breath. You left that slide since you’d instigated it, but if it meant he’d put his hands on you, you’d probably try to rile him up a little more time. 

He parks the car without any further hitches. He lets you open your door for yourself while he opens up the backseat, pulling his backpack over his shoulder. Your heart skips a beat at the sight of him, messy hair and unbuttoned shirt with a backpack slung over his shoulder; he looked less like Chan the bartender and more like Chan the student. 

He looked good either way, but being a student yourself, you’re a little more partial to the latter. 

It’s nice, being able to spend time with Chan outside of your... arrangement. Each time that the two of you fall quiet, it feels less and less awkward. The two of you stand closer to each other in the elevator this time, and even though the desire to ask him to stick his tongue down your throat is ever-present, it’s not as prominent. Chan is your friend. He’s your sexy, intelligent friend, and you’ve gotten off to thoughts of him fucking you with his tongue more times than you’d like to admit, but you feel happy, being invited to see this other part of his life. 

“How are you feeling? Drunk yet?” 

You shake your head, tailing after him as he lets himself into his apartment. Your first impression is that it’s clean, cleaner than you had expected from a college boy. After slipping your shoes off, you follow him into his living room, beelining for the pictures that were hanging on one of the walls. “Holy shit, is this you?” 

“Don’t look at that!” He whines, grabbing you by your shoulders and turning you around. He shuffles you back toward the couch despite your protests. “You’re here to help me study. You are not here to look at my pictures from high school.” 

“Your hair was so bad!” 

“Do you want some water?” 

You ignore him in favor of advancing toward his pictures again and he groans, grabbing you by your waist and dragging you back to the couch. You were definitely starting to feel the effects of the liquor, whether you realized it or not. “I’m going to tie you to the couch if you don’t stop.” 

That’d be hot. Please do. “Fine, fine! I’ll look at them next time.” 

Next time. That makes Chan’s stomach do a somersault. He can’t fight the smile that blooms on his face, sitting cross-legged on the floor and opening his backpack. You mimic his sitting position, tucking your legs under one another. He holds out a stack of index cards, holding them out for you. You take them, shuffling through them while Chan continues to dig through his bag. Once you look at him again, he’s wearing glasses, and you have to refrain from moaning out loud at how good he looks. 

“Read me the cards. Does your vision go blurry when you’re drunk?” 

“I’m not drunk, Chan!” You huff, lifting the first index card closer to your face to read it. “Broca’s Area?” 

“Um... it’s where someone can, like, recognize something, but they can’t speak.” 

“Hemisphere?” 

“Left.” 

“Is this the kind of study session where I’m supposed to remove a piece of clothing for everything that you answer correctly?” Chan’s eyes widen at your proposition, and you just laugh, setting the first card down next to you and moving onto another one. “Just kidding. Wernicke’s Area?” 

“Th-That’s -- fuck, you distracted me – it's, like, the opposite of Broca’s Area. S-So, the language production component is still intact, but the words don’t really make sense.” 

“Hemisphere?” 

“Also left.” 

You hum quietly in approval, picking another index card from your stack. “Hemispheric lateralization?” 

“Okay, so, we have the left and the right hemispheres, right? Basically, the brain isn’t symmetrical. The left hemisphere doesn’t function the exact same way as the right hemisphere, and vice versa. The left hemisphere is responsible for certain things, like language production and stuff, but the right hemisphere is responsible for other things, like visual stuff.” You simply nod while Chan tries to fully answer the question, as if you have any idea what he’s talking about. Maybe with a clearer mind, you could contribute a little bit better. “There’s this whole debate about being left-brained or being right-brained, and also about how people are determined to be left-handed or right-handed.” 

You look at the backside of the index card for a few beats before giving up. “I don’t know if you answered the question or not.” 

“Because you’re drunk, or because I didn’t answer it correctly?” 

He takes the card from you. His fingers brush with yours, and you suddenly feel like you’re on fire. “I think I’m a little drunk, actually.” 

“That’s crazy!” He smiles, reading the card, his tone indicating that he does not find it to be crazy. “Do you want some water now?” 

No, I think I just want to kiss you. 

“W-What?” 

“What?” You realize too late that you’d said that out loud and gasp, covering your mouth. Chan is equally surprised, eyebrows raised as far as they could physically go, and for a few moments, the two of you stare at each other like that. 

Calmly, Chan clears his throat. There’s a hint of smile on his face that, unfortunately, you aren’t able to catch. “W-We can revisit that when you’re sober.” He wishes that he could be a little less polite in this situation – adrenaline is pumping through his veins at your sudden confession, and he wants nothing more than to pin you to the couch and give you exactly what you’d just asked for. But you’re drunk, and even though he knows that he’s not going to be able to retain any more information, all that he can do is continue studying while waiting for you to sober up. Hopefully, you’ll still want to kiss him when you aren’t being driven by your own intoxication. Chan, personally, has never needed alcohol to get the urge to kiss you, and he hopes that the same can be said for you by the end of the night. 

You, on the other hand, are mortified. The alcohol is only just starting to hit you, and you had started off strong by telling Chan that you wanted to kiss him. You’re afraid now that you’re going to end up saying something even more embarrassing – that you love him, that you’d always loved him, or that you want him to fuck you until you’re seeing stars. Any of those things would certainly result in your own demise, and the destruction of your friendship, and for that, you’re terrified. 

For better or for worse, you and Chan get through the rest of the index cards without any additional love confessions. 

“How are we feeling now?” He asks, setting down a glass of water on the table after he finally convinced you to take some. To answer his question, you’re dizzy. You don’t dare try to stand up, but you’re also starting to feel tired. Crashing on Chan’s couch was definitely not what you had planned to do tonight. 

“My head hurts.” You groan, massaging your temples. 

“Drink your water, then.” 

“I don’t want to.” 

“Why not?” 

“Because.” You huff, grimacing at the thought of putting any additional liquids into your body tonight. Chan quirks an eyebrow at you, arms crossed over his chest. You shake your head. “I don’t want it.” 

“Yeah, but you need it.” 

“I’ll be fine.” 

“You’re gonna have a monster hangover.” 

“I’ll be fine, Chan.” 

“I’ll kiss you if you drink it all.” 

Truthfully, Chan is not this bold. He’s been longing for you since he met you, but he knows that he doesn’t have a shot in hell. Your dad wants you to be with a particular type of person, the kind of person that he is not, even if Chan knows that he deserves you more than any of the guys you’d seen so far. He deserves you, and you deserve someone that can make you happy, to keep you laughing, and that will take care of you. He knows this, and he’s been waiting for you to figure it out, too. 

He knows why you told him that you wanted to kiss him. He can easily think back to the night before, when you had been complaining about the physical contact (and lack thereof) that you’d suffered since being forced on all of these dates. Chan is convenient for you, and he’s safe, and fuck, if he can’t have you completely, then he’s willing to settle. 

“Y-You’re blackmailing me.” You huff, snatching the glass of water and drinking from it, nevertheless. You choose to look away, to focus on drinking the water and not on Chan and the kiss he had just promised you. You’d make yourself choke if you thought too hard about that. 

“No, I’m bribing you.” 

You’re already feeling better by the time that you finish your water, and the expectant way that you look up at Chan drives his heart rate up. Still, he’s a man of his word. He takes a seat on the couch next to you, laughing quietly when you close your eyes, tilting your face toward him. He cups your face with both of his hands, holding you still while he leans in, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You scoff, eyes flying open, grabbing his wrists. 

“That is not the kind of kiss that I wanted, and you know that.” 

“You’re still drunk! I can’t kiss you.” 

“Fine, then stay still.” 

Chan’s heart is pounding so quickly that he’s afraid he’s going to blast off. You, on the other hand, are eerily calm. Time almost feels like it’s standing still as you lean in, slow that you can offer Chan an out if he wants to take it. He doesn’t, and that’s how you’re able to press your lips against his. It’s a chaste kiss, devoid of any tongue or teeth or movement, but Chan is practically trembling against your lips. He wants to pull you onto his lap. He wants to let his hands snake underneath your sweatshirt and roam across your skin. He wants to stop holding back, but he can’t. Not right now. 

You pull away after a few moments, still slow, offering him a chance to chase your lips. Your heart falls when he doesn’t, but you do your best to keep your expression even. You let your hands drop into your lap, staring at him. 

He clears his throat. “More water?” 

Only if you kiss me again. “Yes, please.” 

+ + +

You don’t remember much about that night with Chan. You remember the kiss, and you remember going through his neuroscience flashcards again, but that’s it; any additional details have been buried in your consciousness, and when you woke up in your own bed the next morning, you have no idea what course of events led you there. You can only assume that they involved Chan. 

And that’s why, contrary to how you usually felt in the days leading up to your weekly visit to the restaurant, you’re nervous tonight. Debilitatingly nervous. You don’t feel excited at the thought of visiting Chan. You don’t want to spend your whole date feeling his eyes on you. You’re afraid to face him, all because of what you can remember from last weekend. You kissed him, and he didn’t kiss back. You had forced yourself on him and you weren’t ready to face the consequences of that tonight. 

That’s why you don’t come to the restaurant early. You meet your date in the parking lot and walk in together, and you burn with shame as you walk through the restaurant to a different table than usual. You can feel Chan’s eyes on you, practically burning a hole through you. You don’t dare to twist in your seat and look in his direction. You don’t get up, even when you need to use the restroom. You keep your eyes glued to your date the whole time. Maybe it’s the lack of alcohol in your system, or the fact that you hadn’t had a meaningful conversation beforehand to tide you over, but this date was especially bad. You can’t even remember his name when everything is said and done, after two torturous hours have passed. 

Your date was awful, and you don’t know if you did the right thing by avoiding Chan, but at least it was over. Maybe you could start having your dates at a different restaurant. Maybe you would be able to peacefully disappear from Chan’s life, and convince yourself that it was never love in the first place, and-- 

“So, you’re hiding from me now?” 

The voice makes you freeze, fingers stilling in your bag since you’ve been searching for your keys. You don’t need to look up to confirm what you already know. Instead, you stay in place, a feeling of dread pooling in your stomach. “I-I’m not hiding.” 

“Then look at me.” 

That you can’t do. Chan scoffs, shaking his head even though you don’t see it. Internally, he’s pissed off. He, too, has been overthinking everything since Saturday night. He should’ve just kissed you, properly, like you’d asked. He should have just scratched the itch that had been plaguing him for months, taking advantage of your drunken state to confess how he really feels about you. He’d make mistakes, but he wasn’t expecting everything to backfire on him so badly. Were you upset with him for not going further with you? Had he done something wrong? Maybe, but does that excuse your actions tonight? Absolutely not. 

“What did I do?” 

“Nothing!” You scoff this time, squeezing your eyes shut. That same feeling of shame, that burning feeling, was beginning to overtake you. “Y-You didn’t do anything. I did something wrong.” 

“What, by kissing me?” 

“Yes!” 

That hurts Chan, but for reasons different than you realize. His expression falls, and the prolonged silence is why you finally dare to look at him. The expression on his face squeezes your heart, and you scramble to try and rectify things as best as you. “I-I shouldn’t have kissed you. I was drunk, and I-I forced myself on you, and I’m sorry.” 

“You...” He trails off, clenching his jaw. That’s what you think? “I-I don’t--” He doesn’t know how to respond, but it’s becoming increasingly clear to him that the two of you are on different pages. “I wanted to kiss you, too.” 

“Could’ve fooled me.” Your words come out louder and clearer than you had expected. Chan pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue, trying to calm his own irritation, but unable to look past the fact that you’d ignored him all night because of a misunderstanding. 

“You were drunk.” 

“It was just a kiss!” Your own anger is starting to flare up. You’d been led to feel like you had seriously crossed a boundary, but as it turns out, Chan was just chivalrous to a fault. How annoying. 

“You were drunk, and I was not, and that wouldn’t have been okay!” 

“It was just a kiss, Chan!” 

“Fine, since you’re telling me that it shouldn’t have mattered--” Chan is quick to bridge the distance between the two of you, cupping your face with one of his hands and gripping your hip with the other. He pulls you flush against him and then leans in, pressing his lips against yours. For a few moments, you don’t know what to do; it’s not a matter of whether you should kiss him back, but you don’t know if you and him need to talk through anything else. Ultimately, you decide that talking can wait and you wrap your fingers around his forearms. 

You pull away just enough to dive back in, lips slotting between Chan’s. Your hold on him couldn’t get any tighter as he holds your head in place, capturing your lips again and again and again. Once bitten and twice shy, you wait for him to slip his tongue into your mouth to go deeper with things. The feeling of your mouth against Chan’s, your tongue sliding against him, quickly becomes intoxicating, but your desire to taste him trumps your desire for air. It isn’t until your lungs are burning that you finally break away, just enough to breathe. Your lips, swollen and chapped, remain pressed against his even as you pant quietly, eyes squeezed shut. His grip on your hip was tight enough to bruise, but when he finally realizes and relaxes his hold, he rubs his thumb against you to soothe the dull ache. 

Chan doesn’t know when he’s supposed to release you, and truthfully, he doesn’t want to. He’s aware of how un-romantic it is, standing in the middle of a parking garage, clinging onto each other like this, but Chan will take whatever he can get from you. He isn’t involved in the revolving door of those stuffy businessmen that your father has been forcing you to date. He’s just... Chan, the bartender that’s in love with you. And he knows that fact won’t be able to sustain the relationship that he wants to have with you. 

Where do you go from here? Neither of you have any idea. 

“Chan...” You sigh. You’ve finally gotten exactly what you wanted from him, and unfortunately, you’re still craving more. The scent of his cologne is making you dizzy, and the feeling of being pressed against him is intoxicating. You’re afraid you’ll never be able to pull away from him. 

“Don’t say my name like that. It’s dangerous.” 

“Dangerous for who?” 

“For you.” 

You’re glad that Chan is holding you and supporting you, because otherwise, you might’ve keeled over at his response. You can’t count the number of times that you’d thought about Chan while touching yourself, fingers playing with your clit while imagining that it was him instead. There’s a carnal desire that has been driving a large part of your interactions with Chan, and yet, in this moment, you don’t have those same urges. Right now, you want tender touches and soft kisses. You want him to keep you grounded, to hold you and to never release you. 

You want what you can’t have. 

“Should we keep standing here like this, or should we go back to my place?” 

You sigh deeply, and from that response, Chan knows what’s coming next. He’s gotten a taste of you, just enough to get addicted, and now... 

“I still have a date scheduled for next week.” You say, reaching up to thread your fingers through the hair near the nape of his neck. “And the week after that, too, I think.” Your heart practically splits and shatters at the look at Chan gives you, but you spill out the rest of your thoughts as quickly as you can. “I-I’m going to talk to my dad. Tomorrow. Just... wait for me, okay?” 

Chan has always waited for you, so it shouldn’t be a problem. 

+ + +

It’s definitely causing problems for Chan, still having to watch you on your stupid little dates. 

He shouldn’t be jealous, he knows that. You’ve already made it painfully obvious that you want him, and he’s still had a hard time wrapping his brain around the fact that he can finally call you ‘his’ -- almost. 

You’d asked for time so that you could talk to your date, to tell him that you’d found someone and that you were done with the dates. Your dad hadn’t taken the news well, insisting that you needed to marry within your family’s tax bracket, that your marriage needed to help the family politically and fiscally. Chan didn’t know the rest of the details because you’d been too distraught to recount them, but he knew that you were still bound to go on your dates. He’s been understanding, but that doesn’t stop the ugly jealousy that rises in his throat whenever one of your dates leans in too close, gets too touchy. 

Tonight, as he’s done every other night, he’ll just look away. He’ll take a deep breath. He’ll tend to his patrons and avert his eyes, even though he’s dying to get another look at you. Then, after his shift, he’ll go back with you to your apartment and remind you that you love him, that you’ve always loved him, and that he’s always felt the exact same way about you. 

“How was your date?” Chan asks. It’s much later in the evening now. The two of you had gone back to your apartment. He’d tidied up your living room and kitchen while you changed out of your date outfit and taken off your makeup. Eventually, once both of you were ready, you’d both slumped on the couch. Chan was on you in an instant, touching you after another torturous evening of only being able to look at you. One of his hands is splayed against your head, his fingers pressing against the upward curve of your jaw while his palm cups the underside of it. He’s pressing wet, feverish kisses against the other side of your neck when he pauses to ask about your date. He doesn’t really care, though. 

“Terrible.” You sigh, leaning in against his hand to grant him better access to your neck. He responses positively to this, dragging his tongue against your skin. You groan lowly as a result, clutching his t-shirt a little tighter. “I thought about you the whole time.” 

“The whole time?” His tone is patronizing, but the words go straight to your cunt. “What were you thinking about?” 

You bite your lip, suppressing a sigh that bubbles up as Chan sucks a patch of skin between his lips. “Y-You. This.” 

“Yeah?” The feeling of his teeth forces a hiss through your lips, followed by his laughter. You would consider withholding the details of your thoughts from earlier if the desire to reenact them wasn’t so overpowering. 

“Don’t tease.” You huff, threading your fingers through the hair near the back of his neck so that you can hold him a little closer to you. “I-I was thinking about being rescued from my date. You, meeting me in the bathroom and fucking me against the mirror.” 

Chan has to still his movements so that he can fully process your words. The same thoughts now race through his mind, and he groans against your throat. He would be toast if he ever tried anything at the restaurant, but he could still indulge the thought – especially if those same thoughts were keeping you sane through your dates. He drags his hands down to your hips, squeezing and pulling you closer to him on the couch. 

You’re folded underneath him in a matter of sixty seconds. 

“F-Fuck, Chan--” He’s moving so fast that you don’t even realize he’d shimmied his way to between your thighs until he pauses, hands planted atop your thighs. Your heart is racing, and your lungs feel constricted, and as badly as you want this, there’s something terrifying about each and every new step that you take into this uncharted territory with him. You’ve been dreaming about having Chan inside of you, in every way possible, since you met him; your dreams never considered anything beyond that, though. “W-We-- hold on--” 

“This doesn’t have to be c-committal.” Chan rasps, eyes flickering between yours and your core, likely indicated by a wet patch on your shorts. “I-I just really want to taste you, this doesn’t h-have to be anything-- y-you said--” 

You want it so bad that you’re afraid to give yourself any additional time to overthink and ruin things. “P-Please, Chan, I want you.” He tugs your shorts down only enough for access to your cunt, flattening his tongue against the wet spot on your underwear. He rubs his hands up and down your thighs as he goes in for another taste, hot and wet and separated by such a thin layer. Your cries for more are weak but unnecessary; he hooks a finger around your underwear, pulling them aside for full access. His mouth is watering at the sight of you, and the moment that he gets his first real taste of you is one that he’ll cherish for eternity. 

Chan eats your pussy like a man starved. You know that you don’t imagine the ripping sound that you hear before your underwear ends up on the floor, but then Chan immediately crams his tongue inside of you and fucks you with it, and you accept his form of apology. He pulls away only to press himself flush against you, slurping and sucking against your slit and collecting all of the arousal that’s been pooling out of you. You swear that your grip on his hair can’t get any tighter until he kneads your clit with his tongue, and then you’re pulling even harder. 

“Chan, y-yes, fuck, p-please--” 

“K-Keep saying that--” He groans into your pussy, and you involuntarily roll your hips in response to the vibration of his words against your folds. “--my n-name.” 

You sigh his name again, untangling one of your hands from his arm to drape it across your face, eyes falling shut as you focus on the feelings of Chan’s tongue laving over your clit again and again. It feels even better than you had imagined it would, soft and slow and warm. Each involuntary clench of your thighs against his head is met with firm hands prying you back open, and the few times that you’ve dared to look down at Chan, you’ve been brought closer and closer to your orgasm. There are two reasons for the feverishness that’s overtaken your body: because you’re with Chan, and because you’ve never wanted anyone the way that you’ve wanted him. 

Your orgasm rips you out of your bliss. It’s like you’ve been struck by the lightning, the way that your body writhes and shudders while Chan sits back, his lazy grin covered in your slick, admiring his work as you fall apart. He tells himself that, if this ever happens again, he should record you; the sound of you moaning his name is what he hopes will play on an endless loop for him in his afterlife. 

His touches are soft as you come down from your high, brushing stray strands of hair out of your face. You grab a fistful of his shirt to pull him down to meet your lips, groaning softly when you taste yourself on his tongue. At the risk of doing too much too quickly, though, Chan pulls away from the kiss once he senses it’s about to escalate again. 

“W-We— s-sorry, I--” 

You’re, admittedly, disappointed, but you pull him back down into your arms, nuzzling your face into his neck this time. He relaxes in your hold, and the two of you lapse into a silence punctuated by the ticking of a nearby clock and each other’s heartbeats. Even in the comfortable silence, you still feel compelled to say your piece, though. 

“I really like you, Chan.” 

He only hums in response. He hopes that you can’t feel his heartrate increase as he lays against you. You wouldn’t break up with him right after he fucked you with his tongue, right? Of course, he knows that you wouldn’t, and yet... 

“We’re gonna be together soon, okay? I promise. I-I'll find a way to stop the stupid dates, and then we can be together. That’s all I wanted to say.” 

God, he hopes that you can find a way to keep your word. 

+ + +

Truthfully, Chan can’t figure out if he’s lost his mind or not. He still thinks that he might be stuck in his own fantasies, dreaming up a life with you that doesn’t really exist. 

Even as he helps you carry boxes from your apartment out to the moving van that you rented out, he’s not sure that this is reality. He pinches his fingers as he sets down one of the boxes in the truck, and still, he thinks that he’s imagined the pain. You plant a kiss on his cheek as you breeze past him and back into the building, and yet, he still can’t fathom that things had ended up as they have. 

You’d actually been able to keep your promise. He still can’t believe that. 

After months and months of dating in secret, you had managed to convince your dad that the family could survive without the nepotism marriage that he desperately desired. It had taken a few sabotaged dates where you’d spewed on and on about your sex with Chan, and countless conversations where you begged and pleaded with him to see things the way that you did, and somehow, Chan ended up victorious. You were someone that he only deserved in his dreams, and somehow, he had found a way to dream while he was awake. 

He has to take moments to ground himself, to let himself remember that you are real, that you do love him back. That’s how you find him on your trip back to the van, zoned out and staring at the ground. He doesn’t snap out of it even as you slam the doors of the van shut. Only when you hug him from behind, cheek pressed against the center of his back, hands sliding along his chest does he finally descend from the clouds. You inhale deeply against him, smiling involuntarily at the scent of him that you were expecting to fully engrain to memory soon enough. 

“Hey. Sorry.” 

“Daydreaming again?” 

Chan laughs, turning in your arms so that he can hold you, too. “Trying to convince myself that this is real.” 

“Why wouldn’t it be real, Chan?” 

“Because since I met you, I knew that I loved you. But that didn’t matter until recently.” When you open your mouth to reply, to scold him because he could’ve said something sooner, he shakes his head. “I always hoped that you’d be mine. I just didn’t think it was realistic.” 

“It was never us against the world. Just... us against my dad.” 

“Yeah, well, regardless of that,” Chan kisses you softly, pulling away only far enough to put distance between your lips as he speaks again. “I feel like I beat the world, and your dad, and won the most precious gift in the process.” 

“You won?” 

“I did. I won you.” 

“Do I need to remind you that I’m not a prize?” 

“You’re my prize.” 

[dertaglichedan]

More than 100 former national security officials from Republican administrations and former Republican members of Congress endorsed Vice President Kamala Harris on Wednesday after concluding that their party’s nominee, Donald J. Trump, is “unfit to serve again as president.”

In a letter to the public, the Republicans, including both vocal longtime Trump opponents and others who had not endorsed Joseph R. Biden Jr. in 2020, argued that while they might “disagree with Kamala Harris” on many issues, Mr. Trump had demonstrated “dangerous qualities.” Those include, they said, “unusual affinity” for dictators like President Vladimir V. Putin of Russia and “contempt for the norms of decent, ethical and lawful behavior.”

“As president,” the letter said, “he promoted daily chaos in government, praised our enemies and undermined our allies, politicized the military and disparaged our veterans, prioritized his personal interest above American interests and betrayed our values, democracy and this country’s founding documents.”

The letter condemned Mr. Trump’s incitement of the mob attack on the Capitol on Jan. 6, 2021, aimed at allowing him to hold onto power after losing an election, saying that “he has violated his oath of office and brought danger to our country.” It quoted Mr. Trump’s own former vice president, Mike Pence, who has said that “anyone who puts himself over the Constitution should never be president of the United States.”

The letter came not long after former Vice President Dick Cheney and his daughter, former Representative Liz Cheney of Wyoming, both said they would vote for Ms. Harris. Democrats featured a number of anti-Trump Republicans at their nominating convention last month, including former Representative Adam Kinzinger of Illinois. Mr. Pence has said he will not endorse Mr. Trump but has not endorsed Ms. Harris.

The 111 signatories included former officials who served under Ronald Reagan, George H.W. Bush or George W. Bush. Many of them had previously broken with Mr. Trump, including two former defense secretaries, Chuck Hagel and William S. Cohen; Robert B. Zoellick, a former president of the World Bank; the former C.I.A. directors Michael V. Hayden and William H. Webster; a former director of national intelligence, John D. Negroponte; and former Gov. William F. Weld of Massachusetts. Miles Taylor and Olivia Troye, two Trump administration officials who became vocal critics, also signed.

But a number of Republicans who did not sign a similar letter on behalf of Mr. Biden in 2020 signed the one for Ms. Harris this time, including several former House members, like Charles W. Boustany Jr. of Louisiana, Barbara Comstock of Virginia, Dan Miller of Florida and Bill Paxon of New York

*** What the?!?!?!

[libraryofloveletters]

football masterlist

masterlist of masterlists // character list

updated: April 22nd, 2024

Note: All fics with fem!reader are indicted in the warnings, otherwise it’s gender neutral:)

S = smut // F = fluff // A = angst

header by @benzicons​

Jude Bellingham 

Slow & Steady (F/A) 

DMs roll into iMessage and that follows the string into FaceTime calls and next thing you know, he’s falling head over heels for a girl he barely know. Too much happens too fast and they’ll never be you.  (fem!reader)

Christian Pulisic 

The Florida Heat (F) 

Christian’s on vacation back in the states with his wife and twin boys, but a summer day winds into life changing news. (fem!reader) 

Football Fields and Race Tracks (F) 

When a race car driver and a footballer fall in love, your life revolves around race car tracks and football fields; he promised to marry you on track and on field, he did just that. (fem!reader)

Virgil Van Dijk 

The Red Carpet (F)

Virgil and reader are married to each other and the lack of public knowledge of said marriage causes more than a few rumours to fly around (actress!reader) 

Team Colours (F) 

When your mum works for Liverpool and when you shows up to the AXA training centre in a man city jersey, Virg makes it his job to correct it. (fem!reader)

Portugal Pretenders (F)

Virgil is desperately in search of a date for Robbo's wedding. After he finally convinces you to join him as his girlfriend for the weekend, it’s up to the two of you to convince the boys that you two are just as in love as Rachel and Andy are. (fem!reader)

Trent Alexander Arnold 

The Captain’s Sister (F)

Jordan’s baby sister comes to visit for a few weeks and a certain someone catches her attention. - insta au (fem!reader)

Erling Haaland 

Can’t Get Away From You (A/F) 

You get into a fight with your boyfriend and storm out. Your boyfriend on the other hand, doesn’t think it’s a fight and follows you. What happens when the power goes out and you two get stuck in the middle of no where? (fem!reader) 

John Stones 

Nothing Without You (F)

Two best friends deny they love each other until life forces them together in every way possible. - based on I Have Nothing by Whitney Houston (fem!reader)

You Snooze, You Lose (A/F) 

You live and you learn, you love and you lose. Two people who grew up together lose touch and reconnect later in life. Things are left unsaid and you know what they say, it all comes out in the end. (fem!reader) 

Kostas Tsimikas 

Behind The Lens (F) 

The photographer finds her muse, the only thing is everyone seems to notice but them. (fem!reader)

Ruben Dias 

Almost Isn’t Always (A) 

Ruben is facing a ghost from the past in the most heart breaking way imaginable and she brings along a friend, making it worse for him. (fem!reader)

Helping Hands (F) 

Ruben’s birthday comes around and reader, their son, Chris and the other players put together their efforts to surprise him with a birthday party. (fem!reader) 

Thiago Alcantara 

The Wavelengths I’d Go For You (F)

Your boyfriend takes you home after 10 years and he decides to surprise you with a day on the water and a little something else. (fem!reader) 

Neymar Jr 

Surprise! (F) 

your old friend invites you on a trip, the same time that your birthday falls for. you think he’s forgotten all about it but he surprises you, showing you that you’re the only thing on his mind. (fem!reader) 

Jack Grealish 

Hallways Hold Our Secrets (F) 

Your brother keeps pestering you about moving on from your terrible ex and you do, but he just can’t seem to piece it together yet. (rodri’s sister!reader) 

Andy Robertson 

Perfect Match (F) 

You and your favourite co worker decide to try a new dating app for the first time and end up as each other’s matches (fem!reader) 

[floralcyanide]

⊱ 𝑆𝑡𝑎𝑦 𝐺𝑜𝑙𝑑 ― 𝐶𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑜𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑢𝑠 𝑆𝑛𝑜𝑤 ⊰

[ ᴀ ʜᴜɴɢᴇʀ ɢᴀᴍᴇs ᴀʟᴛᴇʀɴᴀᴛɪᴠᴇ ᴜɴɪᴠᴇʀsᴇ ғᴀɴғɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ]

1960s ᴜs ᴘʀᴇsɪᴅᴇɴᴛᴀʟ ᴄᴀɴᴅɪᴅᴀᴛᴇ!ᴄᴏʀɪᴏʟᴀɴᴜs sɴᴏᴡ x ғᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑓𝑖𝑣𝑒 (ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑠): 𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑒𝑟

౨ৎ 18+ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀs ᴏɴʟʏ !

⊹ summary: a run down of the events after new year's eve. ⊹ pairing: young!coriolanus snow / fem!reader ⊹ warnings: innuendo, the insinuation of smoking, mentions of alcohol ⊹ word count: 1139 ⊹ author’s note: sorry for the wait, but I decided to make the rest of the series headcanons instead of actual chapters. it is quite exhausting to write sometimes, and there's so much to this series that I'd rather do it this way. thanks for all of your support. this is my favorite series I've written so far. (:

౨ৎ divider credit: @cafekitsune

౨ৎ sᴇʀɪᴇs ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ | sᴇʀɪᴇs sᴏᴜɴᴅᴛʀᴀᴄᴋ | sᴇʀɪᴇs ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ

౨ৎ this fic has been cross posted to ao3.

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ.

❝A man does what he must—in spite of personal consequences, in spite of obstacles and dangers and pressures - and that is the basis of all human morality.❞ ― John F. Kennedy

✲ Coriolanus is leading in the polls so far for the 1964 election, but there’s a problem. He has yet to marry, and this is peculiar to many hesitant voters. Jack and Bobby both talk to him about this when they all gather in Coriolanus’ office to discuss their next steps.

✲ “I think the girl studying Jack would be a great contender,” Bobby suggests.

✲ Jack laughs incredulously at his brother, “I am not going to send off my student to marry a politician when she has so much ahead of her.”

✲ Coriolanus shuffles uncomfortably. The two of you have been secretly seeing each other here and there since that past New Year’s Eve, and it’s now the middle of April. The thought of just popping the question to you has crossed his mind, but he didn’t want to ruin the good things going for you. 

✲ Other problems more dangerous than marriage plague Coriolanus. The Women’s Revolution, the movement for Women’s rights, has reached new heights in their tension with the government. Coriolanus has been questioned about it by journalists and citizens alike. He firmly stands by his goal of women’s equal rights being passed into law.

✲ Jack offers Coriolanus the chance to come back to the Compound in the summer to finish up campaign strategies and kick back for a while. Little does Coriolanus know that Jack offered for you to return as well to finish up your dissertation. He wants to test Bobby’s theory of you and Coriolanus being together. Hopefully, you can finish up your project before Coriolanus makes a move.

✲ You arrive at the Compound, much to John Jr. and Caroline’s delight, as they run down the front stairs to you. You clamber out of the car, and the Secret Service removes your luggage. The kids cling to your legs as you laugh down at them. You glance up to see Coriolanus at the top of the stairs, and you do a double take.

✲ “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming here?” you ask, a grin growing on your face. It had been about a month since you’d seen Coriolanus. “It was a last-minute decision,” he shrugs. 

✲ That first day, you, Jack, Coriolanus, and Jackie go out on the boat and have a few drinks. You all catch up, and Jackie gives you knowing looks the whole time. You and Coriolanus avoid the elephant in the room regarding you two.

✲ The evening creeps up, and you and Coriolanus sneak to the fire pit after dinner. “Have I told you about my vice president?” “No, not yet. What’s he like?” “His name is Sejanus Plinth, I think you two would get along very well.”

✲ After you and Coriolanus discuss Sejanus, he asks a question after a moment of silence. “Have you ever tried the shit that Jack smokes?” “Not really, but it smells peculiar,” you say, “Why?” “You seriously don’t know what it is?” Coriolanus chuckles. “Well, it can’t be tobacco, so,” you trail off, realizing what the substance is, “Oh. I see.” Coriolanus laughs at you again before pulling a joint out of his pocket, “Wanna smoke some?”

✲ Coriolanus sneaks into your room that night just to sleep in the same bed as you.

✲ You and Coriolanus become prone to sneaking and doing daring things. One night, after everyone has gone to bed, Coriolanus drags you to the garage, where the two of you take Jack’s convertible out for a spin. Without the Secret Service. Coriolanus drives down a back road alongside the coast, where your arms are thrown into the air as the wind gusts past your hair. Coriolanus looks over at you, knowing then and there he needs to marry you. There’s no one else, and there never would be. 

✲ Coriolanus takes you out on a beautiful date in Boston at the fanciest restaurant in the city, which was suggested by Jack and Jackie. 

✲ When you get to the bottom of your champagne glass, something hits your lips. You jump in surprise and slide it out of the glass when you pull it away from you. It’s a stunning diamond ring, the gem itself huge. The band is a simple white gold, and you look up at Coriolanus, who has now moved to kneel before you. 

✲ “I know this is quite sudden and out of nowhere, but there’s no one else like you. And I don’t think I can go on without you being mine forever,” Coriolanus has his hand on your knee, a hand out so he can place the ring on your finger, “Say yes, and I’ll give you everything you could possibly want.” “I think I have everything I could possibly want right in front of me, Coryo.” “So, you’ll marry me, darling?” “Yes, Coryo. I will definitely marry you!”

✲ The next day, it’s splattered all over the press that presidential candidate Coriolanus Snow is engaged to be married to little old you, the student under President John F. Kennedy. Bobby is beside himself, and Jackie hugs you, whispering in your ear how she knew you two would end up together.

✲ It’s now the middle of summer, and the wedding day is coming soon. You decided to get married on the beach outside the compound where you and Coriolanus met. The entire Kennedy family is invited, and your friends from university, as well as a few of Coriolanus’ friends, are invited. You finally meet Tigris, Coriolanus’ cousin who raised him, at the bridal shower. She tells stories upon stories about the blonde boy getting into trouble, which you enjoy thoroughly. 

✲ You and Coriolanus marry in late June of 1964 in a beautiful ceremony, where Jack walks you down the aisle. He says it’s the biggest honor he’s ever received. Not even his Purple Heart could compare. 

✲ Your honeymoon is spent in Boston in a luxury hotel near downtown. For the whole week, the two of you hardly leave the bedroom. 

✲ When the two of you are back from the honeymoon, Jackie proposes a day on the beach for the whole family. You both sit by the sea while the kids play and the guys play some football. Coriolanus isn’t a major fan of sports, so he stays with the kids.

✲ Both of you watch as Coriolanus plays with Caroline, John Jr., and Bobby Jr. in the shallows, splashing back at them when they throw water at him. “Have you thought about kids yet?” Jackie asks suddenly. You open your mouth but close it back, unsure of how to answer, “I- we haven’t really… discussed it yet, I guess.” Jackie hums, nodding, “It would look great for the campaign, besides, the sooner, the better. Voters love a great love story.”

[andiatas]

Once Upon a Time: The Captivating Life of Carolyn Bessette-Kennedy by Elizabeth Beller (Jul. 4, 2024)

A quarter of a century after the plane crash that claimed the lives of John F. Kennedy Jr., his wife Carolyn, and her sister Lauren, the magnitude of this tragedy remains fresh. Yet, Carolyn is still an enigmatic figure, a woman whose short life in the spotlight was besieged with misogyny and cruelty.

Amidst today's cultural reckoning about the way our media treats women, Elizabeth Beller explores the real person behind the tabloid headlines and media frenzy. When she began dating America's prince, Carolyn was increasingly thrust into an overwhelming spotlight filled with relentless paparazzi who reacted to her reserve with a campaign of harassment and vilification.

To this day, she is still depicted as a privileged princess--icy, vapid, and drug-addicted. She has even been accused of being responsible for their untimely death, allegedly delaying take-off until she finished her pedicure. But now, she is revealed as never before.

A fiercely independent woman devoted to her adopted city and career, Carolyn relied on her impeccable eye and drive to fly up the ranks at Calvin Klein in the glossy, high-stakes fashion world of the 1990s. When Carolyn met her future husband, John was immediately drawn to her strong-willed personality, effortless charm, and high intelligence. Their relationship would change her life and catapult her to dizzying fame, but it was her vibrant life before their marriage and then hidden afterwards, that is truly fascinating.

Based on in-depth research and exclusive interviews with friends, family members, teachers, roommates, and colleagues, and featuring never-before-seen family photos, this comprehensive biography reveals a multi-faceted woman worthy of our attention regardless of her husband and untimely death.

Elizabeth Beller is a writer and journalist specializing in culture, art, and travel with more than fifteen years of experience as a book and story editor. Her work has appeared in The Guardian, Vogue, and Travel + Leisure, among other outlets. Before turning to writing and editing, she spent two years as a script reader for Miramax, followed by twelve years in the art world at Sotheby's Auction House. She splits her time between New York and New Orleans with her husband, writer Thomas Beller, and their two children.