#young jfk

[jfkkennedy]

Young Jack🤍

He was so pretty <3

#jfk #john f kennedy #john fitzgerald kennedy #jack kennedy #john f. kennedy #president kennedy #president john f kennedy #the kennedys #kennedy family #america #president #young jfk

[floralcyanide]

⊱ 𝑆𝑡𝑎𝑦 𝐺𝑜𝑙𝑑 ― 𝐶𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑜𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑢𝑠 𝑆𝑛𝑜𝑤 ⊰

[ ᴀ ʜᴜɴɢᴇʀ ɢᴀᴍᴇs ᴀʟᴛᴇʀɴᴀᴛɪᴠᴇ ᴜɴɪᴠᴇʀsᴇ ғᴀɴғɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ]

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

𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑓𝑜𝑢𝑟: 𝑠𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑜𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑎𝑐ℎ (nsfw)

౨ৎ 18+ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀs ᴏɴʟʏ !

⊹ summary: tension between you and coriolanus finally resolves. ⊹ pairing: young!coriolanus snow / fem!reader ⊹ warnings: smut, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, fingering, nipple/ breast play, oral sex (f receiving) ⊹ word count: 1779 ⊹ author’s note: I'm so sorry this is so late!! and also kinda shorter than other chapters but I had this written a while ago and wanted to finish it up a little and post it (: I hope ya'll enjoy hehe

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 ���ᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ.

You explore the bedroom Coriolanus is staying in, and things from before he left for D.C. are still in their respective places. He has some things on the bookshelf and his desk, but other than that, the room is relatively clean and not personalized, unlike yours. You sit on his bed and try your best to remain calm and collected. You’re busy trying not to pick at your freshly polished nails when Coriolanus briskly steps inside his bedroom, closing the door behind him and locking it. Standing up from the bed immediately, you carefully look over Coriolanus as he strides over to where you are. You’re almost toe to toe, his breath hitting your face as he plays with a strand of your hair.

“Almost couldn’t get away this time,” Coriolanus says, tracing your face lightly with his finger.

“Glad you could,” you smile, your eyes wanting to instinctively close at his touch.

“Me too,” he whispers, dipping his head down so he can capture your lips with his.

Your hands fly to his blazer, gently pushing it off his shoulders as he removes it completely, pulling away to place it on the desk chair.

Coriolanus pops the top button of his dress shirt and resumes the kiss, allowing you to unbutton the rest with your shaking hands. It’s been a while, and being around Coriolanus and him touching you makes you nervous. He untucks the shirt from his trousers, letting it loosely fall to the floor. Coriolanus teases your bottom lip with his tongue, and you let him in, the taste of champagne and something metallic filling your senses. His hand finds the back of your hand, his fingers threading through your hair to hold you still as he dominates the kiss. Coriolanus ushers you backward until the backs of your thighs are against the bed. Your hands are on his warm chest, bracing yourself so you don’t fall onto the bed. Coriolanus turns the two of you around so he’s the one against the bed, and he sits down, pulling you to his lap. Your legs wrap around his waist, your dress pooling around you as you let your arms encircle Coriolanus’ neck.

“So pretty,” Coriolanus drags a hand down your arm, causing goosebumps to rise on your skin.

He slowly reaches behind you to toy with the zipper of your dress, his icy blues begging the question of if he can drag it down your back. You nod, and Coriolanus pulls down the zipper, and your dress falls to your hips, revealing your delicate lace underwear. It’s your set that you reserved for special occasions like New Year’s Eve parties- you gotta look good underneath and on the outside. Coriolanus inhales sharply through his nose, taking in the sight of you before ushering you to stand so your dress falls completely off. He then unbuckles his belt and undoes his trousers, kicking them off to the floor. Coriolanus ushers you back to his lap, his hands on your hips as his thumbs draw circles on your skin. He leaves hot kisses along your jaw and neck, traveling to your collarbone. Coriolanus’ hands slide from your arms to your sides, his warm palms against your lower back. He holds you as close to him as possible, your stomach against his chest and your breasts directly in his line of sight. Coriolanus tenderly kisses along the areas of your breasts your bra doesn’t cover, slipping his fingers under the band against your back teasingly. He slowly pulls down the soft lace to reveal your hardened nipple, latching his lips and tongue to it. You gasp at the sensation, a hand going to Coriolanus’ carefully styled hair. You don’t think he cares if you mess it up at this point, anyway. A part of you hopes Coriolanus can’t feel you beginning to pulse through your underwear, but it’s unlikely, especially since you’re directly on his growing bulge. He decides enough is enough and just unhooks your bra before resuming his former activity. Coriolanus massages the other breast that lacks his attention, his thumb and index finger rolling the sensitive bud slowly as he flicks the other with his tongue. Your back arches, your throbbing pussy pressing further against Coriolanus, a groan leaving him at the feeling. His free hand grips the apex of your thigh, thumb dangerously close to your growing heat. Coriolanus plays with your tits for a while, relishing in your body that he’s admittedly been thinking about since he first met you. You rock your hips against him as he does so, growing more turned on at your sensitive nipples, sending shockwaves to your core. When Coriolanus starts nibbling on your breasts with his teeth, you can’t take anymore.

“Please, Coryo,” you let the nickname you’ve yet to use slip from your lips in desperation, “Please touch me.”

Coriolanus stares up at you from your breasts, his hand that was on your thigh now cupping you. He slips your underwear to the side, moaning at how wet you are as he slides his finger along your slit. He dips his finger inside you, and your fingers in his hair tighten, causing him to moan into your skin. Coriolanus stops toying with your sensitive breasts and opts for leaving marks on your skin there as he pumps his finger in and out of you, adding another to your eager cunt. Coriolanus lets his other hand swipe at your clit softly, eliciting a loud moan from you, to which Coriolanus shushes you.

“I doubt they can hear anything out there,” you pant, rolling your hips against his long fingers.

Coriolanus adds a third finger just to silence you, so you muffle your cries purposefully this time. You feel the familiar coil in your stomach tightening as you bounce on Coriolanus’ hand, to which he quickly pulls his fingers out of you. He licks then clean as you watch helplessly, feeling empty and needy for his touch. Coriolanus pulls his length from his underwear, slowly jerking himself a few times before teasing your clit with his tip.

“Do you want this?” he suddenly asks.

“Of course. Yes, Coryo, I want this,” you reassure him, carding your fingers through his now unkempt hair. 

Those words are all Coriolanus needed to prod at your entrance before sliding in slowly, letting himself get lost in how you clench around him with every inch. He finally reaches the hilt, allowing you to adjust to him inside you. You lift yourself off almost completely before slamming back down, biting your lip not to get too loud. Coriolanus takes over, snapping his hips up into you. He admires how your breasts bounce and how your hair falls around your face that’s contorted in pleasure. You meet Coriolanus’ thrusts, riding his cock like a pro, like it’s been made for you. He gets so lost in how good you feel that he has his eyes closed, and you cradle his head against your chest as you fuck each other like animals in heat. Coriolanus grips your ass, guiding you along his length as fast as he can. He pants against your skin that’s damp with sweat, focusing on not filling you with his cum just yet. But you feel yourself growing close, and your walls suck Coriolanus in further. 

“Coriolanus,” you mutter, to which he hums in acknowledgment, “I’m gonna cum.”

He picks up his pace, not caring that his bed is hitting the wall slightly. But no one is next door in Jack’s office right now, so it’s far from his mind. Coriolanus’ cock pounds into your g spot perfectly as you grip onto him for dear life, his hand still swiping at your clit, albeit faster than before. You grumble into Coriolanus’ hair, letting him relentlessly fuck you into oblivion as you cum around him. This triggers his orgasm, and your overstimulation causes you to convulse slightly as you continue to gush around Coriolanus’ length. He slowly pulls out of you and hurries to grab a washcloth from his drawer, cleaning you gently as you catch your breath. You watch as the looming man with the messy blonde hair finally catches your gaze. 

“What’s on your mind?”

“Would it be ridiculous if I said you were?”

“Not at all.”

Discarding the cloth, Coriolanus lays down next to you, tossing his arm behind his head to rest on it. You finally steady your breathing and look over at him.

“I should probably go back to my room,” you frown, “We don’t want anyone wondering.”

“You’re right,” Coriolanus agrees.

You try not to be bothered by him agreeing so quickly, but it’s for the best you don’t let his character get to you right now. You did just share a very intimate evening. It’s not like he’s put off by you. Quietly, you gather your clothes and shoes and crack open the door.

“Happy New Year, Coryo,” you whisper.

“Happy New Year.”

Going back to D.C. two days later is bittersweet. You know your main focus is your research, but you’re going to miss Coriolanus, of course. But it isn’t long after you’re back home when you get a call. And it’s from none other than Mr. Snow. He asks you to come by his office the next evening, so you both could go to dinner immediately after he finishes for the day. You agree, trying to keep your excitement tame. From then on, for the next few months, the two of you will share a passionate love affair. You aren’t quite sure what to label it, but it’s intense. Into the Spring, you get to know Coriolanus on a deeper level than before. Mentally, emotionally, and physically. You also get to know his staff fairly well as you work alongside him in his office. The man Coriolanus suggests for his Vice President is Sejanus Plinth, whose father was also a politician. You knew of him already from learning about lineage. He is a very polite young man and is very promising. 

However, things aren’t running as smoothly as you’d hoped. Protests for Women’s Rights have heightened in the D.C. area, and Jack is trying his best to handle them before his term runs out. It’s something Coriolanus has decided to include in his campaign- to be for Women’s Rights but not the radicalist movements causing violence in some places in the United States. Under Snow’s presidency, the country is to be all shiny and new and full of prosperity. “Out with the old and in with the Snow!” 

Little does Coriolanus or anyone else know what’s to come with this radical movement. 

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow x y/n #president snow #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games #au #alternate universe #alternate history #historical fiction #the hunger games au #tbosas #tbosas au #eventual smut #jfk #john f kennedy #bobby kennedy #rfk #the kennedys #1960s #floralcyanide writes #tom blyth #tom blyth x reader #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow x reader smut #young coriolanus snow

[a-spacecadet]

Confucius wanted to play the new Mario game with JFK…

He doesn’t understand why a game-over made him start crying

#yes this is more Ponce angst #now Mario’s dead! I’m killing everyone 😣 #i know the episode is for laughs but #my brother’s friend died when they were both in highschool from an accident #16 years old is very young to lose a best friend #my art #roxi's art #clone high #clone high jfk #clone high confucius #tw death #fanart

[totheroses]

“It has been said, 'time heals all wounds.' I do not agree. The wounds remain. In time, the mind, protecting its sanity, covers them with scar tissue and the pain lessens. But it is never gone."

- Rose Fitzgerald Kennedy

#when they were young #the kennedys #first family #rose kennedy #joseph kennedy jr. #john f. kennedy #jfk #robert f. kennedy #rfk #kathleen kennedy #patricia kennedy #eunice kennedy shriver #jean kennedy smith #rosemary kennedy #edward kennedy #ted kennedy #kennedy family #old money #vintage

[doctorsiren]

I was gonna watch the new eps last night, but instead I talked to my friend while drawing this and then I zonked out

#doctorsiren #clone high #jfk clone high #clone high fanart #art #digital art #my art #fanart #procreate #doodle #I think it’s easier to explain to my parents about my obsession with FNAF #than it is why I have a ton of real pictures of young JFK in my photo gallery now #also I held off on watching the new eps until I woke up so I could have better emotional stability after taking my ADHD meds haha

[countess-of-edessa]

really if you're being like a connoisseur of facial proportions and stuff im not pretty. but what i am is thin and young with big green eyes and long blonde hair which is enough to be pretty-adjacent as an anti-woke outrage farmer social media presence where all i have to do is make faces to a clip of women saying they don't like short men and say something like "women are crazy nowadays i don't blame guys for staying single!" and let the money from my following of stupid sheeple conservative-but-not-religious men roll in

#does that make sense to anyone #this is about lauren Chen who I don't even have beef with i just think her content is so so so basic and she definitely only has the succes #she does because she is a young pretty woman willing to criticize women (and even then it's not like she says anything particularly shockin #she just lets her fanboys pat themselves on the back and complain about women in her comments sections which is smart) #but it's also about several other women i see who are like this #who was that blond girl from a couple years ago??? not tomi lahren although she is adjacent to this too #anyway Lauren Chen is legitimately very pretty but I think the standard is more what I call the Kennedy effect #JFK was not hot he was just the hottest President because he was young and not actively ugly alongside a bunch of old and unfortunate #looking men (politicians) #it's like office hotness

[roenters]

Six fanarts challenge based on characters/ppl I got given from ppl over on insta :]]

#doctor who #doctor who fanart #rose tyler #rose tyler fanart #will wood #will wood fanart #captain jack harkness #captain jack harkness fanart #adam young #adam young fanart #good omens fanart #good omens #clone high #clone high jfk #rory williams fanart #rory williams

[darkwood-sleddog]

Did you see the horrifying photos an alleged Montana woman took proudly showing off her skinned "wolf pup"? Spoiler alert, it's an effing sled dog, very obviously. Looks like the authorities will have her on incorrect permits at the very least, but why in the world does someone so inept at identifying wildlife have a gun or permits?! Some people are incredibly stupid - please drape yourselves and your pups in orange when in proximity to morons!

This is a sadly common story, even when dogs do not look wolfish at all and a large part of why I'm hesitant to let my dogs off leash in areas where hunting is allowed.

Frankly if you cannot correctly identify the wildlife you are hunting you should not be hunting in the first place. That goes for people mistaking coyotes as wolves and vice versa.

#not dogs #hunting #also. why anybody wants to kill young wolves is beyond me honestly #so this lady sounds like a treat #honestly the answer is more animal knowledgable #and conservationists need to be hunting #but that's just my opinion #leaving hunting to the populations of people in this country that do not care about the wellbeing of the world re: global warming #or covid protections #or letting people make their own choices with their own bodies without government interference #such as roe v wade and trans kids in sports #does not = a population of hunters that are thoughtful. i'm just saying #that being said a huge majority of hunters around me are incredible conservationists and i love them #but there is a population demographic in this country more likely to have guns and hunt #and do you think these people #many of whom think jfk was gonna show up in this year of 2022 #know the difference between a dog and a wild canine they can hunt legally

[girafferoyalty]

I call this a travel diary but this is more like ”random memories and observations”. One out of two.

#a picture of the cartoonist as a young goat #I’ve flown to Miami #lax and JFK twice and JFK has the slowest border control hands down #I remember nineteen old me asking my mom ’do they think we are gonna smuggle a bo #a bomg here’ (in Finnish) and she turned to me like ’please don’t say the b-word here’ #anyhow we had to queue almost an hour so that they can look my ugly passport photo #the bald eagle thing originates from the first trip where my dad was first time driving in the us and broke so many traffic rules

[sarahbeautyblog]

#Jfk #John Kennedy #1938 #1940s #30s #fashion #style #john f kennedy #homme #bg post #président #USA #washington dc #united states #young #jack #history #spoilers

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Machiko Kyō (Rashomon, Floating Weeds, Older Brother Younger Sister)— Considered an early sex symbol in Japanese cinema. Also just an ethereal beauty who can also go feral/unhinged in a glorious way.

Judy Garland (Meet Me In St. Louis, A Star is Born, Summer Stock)— Judy is the GOAT when it comes to classic movie musicals. The voice of an angel who deserved so much better than she got. She can sing she can dance she can act she's a triple threat. Though she had a turbulent personal life (her treatment as a child star by the studio system makes me mad as hell like Louis b Mayer fight me ((she was made to believe that she was physically unattractive by the constant criticism of film executives who made her feel ugly and who manipulated her onscreen appearance by capping her teeth and using discs in her nose to change its shape and Mayer called her "my little hunchback" like imagine hearing that as a child and not having damage)) she always goddamn delivered on screen and in any performance she gave. She began in vaudeville performing with her sisters and was signed to MGM at 13. Starting out in supporting parts especially paired with mickey Rooney in a bunch of films (she's the best part tbh) she eventually transferred to the lead role. She is best known for her starring role in movie musicals like the iconic Wizard of Oz (somewhere over the rainbow still hits hard and is ranked the top film song of all time), meet me in St. Louis (Judy singing have your self a merry little Christmas brings tears to the eyes she is that powerful), the Harvey girls (she looks like a technicolor dream and sings a catchy af song about trains), Easter parade ( dancing and singing with Fred Astaire), for me and my gal, the pirate, and summer stock ( with pal Gene Kelly who she helped when he was starting out and he helped her when she was struggling). But she also does non- singing just as well like the clock ( her first movie where she sings no songs and is an underrated ww2 era romance), her Oscar nominated a star is born ( like the man that got away she put her whole soul in that and I have beef with the fact she lost to grace kelly ((whom I love but like still not even her best work)), and judgement at Nuremberg (a courtroom drama about the nazi war criminal trials). Outside of film she made concert appearances to record-breaking audiences, released 8 studio albums, and had her own Emmy-nominated tv series. She was the youngest (39) and first female recipient of the Cecil B DeMille award for lifetime achievement in the film industry. Girl was a lifelong democrat and was a financial and moral supporter of many causes including the civil rights movement (she was at the March on Washington and held a press conference to protest the 16th street Baptist church bombings). She was a friend of the Kennedy family and would call jfk weekly often ending the calls by singing the first few lines of somewhere over the rainbow (she thought of them as Gemini twins).She was a member of the committee for the first amendment which was formed in response to the HUAC investigations. Though she died far too young and tragically she remains an icon for her work and her life. As a girl who didn't feel like i was as pretty as everyone else I have always felt a connection to Judy and I just really love her.

This is round 3 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Machiko Kyō:

Judy:

Judy's voice alone qualifies her for at least top ten hottest HOT VINTAGE MOVIE WOMEN. She was a truly incredible swing singer, with a stunning voice on top of her technique. Her short dark hair looked incredible in just about any style. Have I mentioned her swagger? I can’t do it justice with words. She had swagger. She was funny as hell, and clever too. Incredibly charming and cool. I adore her.

Her eyes, her voice have bewitched me

I mean how can you beat the one and only Judy? She's beautiful, her smile is contagious, the way she sings with her whole body. You can't help but love her.

Beautiful woman, love her singing voice. And she can do everything between happy or silly and angry or heartbroken

#judy garland #machiko kyō #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 3

[ginnsbaker]

In Losing Grip On Sinking Ships (23/23)

Chapter summary: One year later, Wanda returns to the place where you promise to meet each other again

Chapter word count: 5.5k+ | Warnings: None | Ship: Wanda x Reader

Author's note: And here we are! Will post the Epilogue tomorrow night :)

AO3 | Masterlist 

Next part: Epilogue

-

Twenty-Three

One year later

It’s the most important flight of her life.

Wanda Maximoff is finally going home after a year in Barcelona. 

And it's only a matter of days before the date circled on her calendar arrives, the day she's set to see you again.

Before she boarded the plane, Pietro gave her a call, extending his well wishes and backing for her reunion. Shannon is expecting their second child, a baby girl. Pietro would have loved to be there for Wanda, to welcome her back after such an extended absence. However, Shannon's pregnancy has been more delicate this time around, requiring his undivided attention and care.

In the remaining moments before take-off, and after having secured Sparky on her lap, Wanda finds herself gazing at a picture of you on her phone. It’s an image that Valkyrie captured during the Cup-off, a picture of you and her side by side, your awkward yet endearing smile juxtaposed with her exuberant, wide grin.

As the plane ascends, distancing itself from the ground, her mind becomes filled with thoughts of you. She pushes the tray table up and leans her head against the window, watching the shrinking world below.

Have you changed? Have you grown out your hair or cut it shorter? Did your laugh still come out in those adorable bursts, or had life worn it down to a chuckle?

But beyond these surface changes, she wonders about your feelings. A year can transform emotions as much as it can alter appearances. But her heart aches for you, hoping that this part, this important part of you, remains constant.

The questions dance around in her mind as the miles fly by beneath her. 

Soon, she thinks, soon she'll see you again. Soon, she'll have her answers.

The moment her feet touch the ground at JFK airport, Wanda heads straight to the cafe. 

Although she's still got three days until she sees you, she has missed everyone else. When the opportunity arose to further her studies in culinary arts overseas, she felt compelled to take it. It was a prestigious scholarship in hospitality, coupled with advanced pastry and chocolate crafting, offered to her by one of the judges from last year's Cup-off competition.

Before leaving, Wanda had finalized a business partnership with Agatha, entrusting her with the cafe's operations during her absence. It was a decision made out of trust and necessity, knowing the cafe would be in capable hands.

At first, Wanda was ambivalent, reluctant to leave the comfort of all she knew. But when you told her about your decision, about needing a year to yourself, she took it as a sign. She took the opportunity to explore, grow, and learn more, just like you were doing. But now she's back, eager to catch up with everyone and curious about how the cafe has thrived under Agatha's care.

What immediately strikes Wanda about her cafe is the additional space it now occupies. When the shop next door had shut down eight months earlier, Agatha had promptly rung her up to grab the opportunity to expand their business. The cafe had been drawing an increasing number of customers since their victory in the Cup-off, and Wanda had immediately agreed to the expansion, recognizing that they were quickly outgrowing the existing space.

“Don’t pour anywhere but the coffee bed, Daisy, okay?” 

Peter's voice is the first thing that reaches her ears as she steps inside. He's guiding a young woman, likely a new employee, through the ins and outs of the pour-over brewing method, just like how Wanda taught him before. Their heads turn as the door chimes and an almost instant smile lights up Peter's face.

Wanda's own lips twitch upwards into a grin, returning the warm greetings silently before gently unhooking Sparky's leash. He doesn’t waste any time sniffing every inch of the room in a frenzy of enthusiasm.

“Wanda!” Peter exclaims, leaving the confines of the open kitchen to wrap her in a warm embrace. Just as he lets her go, Agatha appears from the backroom.

“Maximoff!” Agatha shrieks, drawing the attention of several heads in the room. She strides over quickly and practically shoves Peter out of the way so she can enfold Wanda in an even more suffocating hug.

“Welcome back!” Agatha exclaims, stepping back to look at her; her business partner is positively glowing. “How was Spain?”

Wanda smiles, “It was an incredible experience. I learned so much and met so many great people. And Barcelona... It’s a beautiful city.”

“And the food?” Peter interjects, looking curious.

“Out of this world,” Wanda replies with a laugh. Then she turns to Agatha and says, “So, tell me about your new hot date?”

As they chat and catch up, Wanda finds herself glancing at the clock every now and then, her heart beating a little faster with each passing minute. Three days. Just three more days until she sees you again.

Wanda wonders if these three days would feel longer than the year she spent without you.

***

Three days later, the large clock on the wall reads half-past eight. The cafe is usually buzzing with activity around this time, but today it’s quieter, as if everyone else is holding their breath too. 

Thirty minutes till closing, and you’re still a no-show.

Wanda is seated at the bar stool near the entrance, her elbows resting on the counter as she gazes blankly out of the window. Every now and then, her eyes flit towards the door, hoping to see your familiar figure. But each time, she’s met with disappointment.

She can't help but wonder if you've forgotten about the arrangement, or perhaps decided not to show up intentionally. Maybe you've decided to move on, to continue living your life without her. But the thought that terrifies her most is the possibility that something might have happened to you.

She shakes her head, trying to rid herself of these pessimistic thoughts. “They're late, not absent,” she mutters under her breath, clinging to the hope that you'll show up before the clock strikes nine.

Just as the last of her hope seems to be dwindling, the sudden presence of a new arrival snaps her back to the present.

She pivots slowly, heart thundering, and her eyes lock onto a face she had least expected to encounter today.

It's Natasha striding into the cafe with an inscrutable expression.

Seeing her, Wanda feels a strange mix of relief and anxiety. She hasn't seen Natasha since she confronted Wanda about her feelings for you, hasn’t heard from her since she helped locate you in Montauk. If Natasha is here, does that mean you're not coming? Or is she here to deliver a message from you?

Natasha catches sight of Wanda a second later and offers a small smile, a knowing look in her eyes. Wanda's breath catches, her vision momentarily blurring, while her pulse quickens, thundering in her ears.

“Good, you’re still here,” Natasha mutters, claiming the bar stool next to her. A snide remark about how she actually owns the place flits across Wanda's mind, but she brushes it aside, curious to see what Natasha is doing here.

“Nat–”

“I’m not going to beat around the bush because I’m terribly late and she’ll kill me if she finds out,” Natasha explains in a rush. “But Y/N won’t be able to make it.”

Her grip tightens around the edge of the table, knuckles white, as the room seems to tilt slightly. She had prepared herself for the worst, but hearing that you weren't coming still felt like a blow. She had spent the past year missing you, hoping for your return, and the fact that you weren't showing up as promised was a hard pill to swallow.

“Is it... is it because she doesn't want to?” Wanda asks quietly. Her whole disposition seems to wilt, as though an unseen force is pressing down on her.

Natasha lets out a heavy sigh, avoiding Wanda's questioning gaze. “It's...complicated.”

Wanda feels her heart dropping at the evasive response. A part of her doesn't want to hear what comes next, but she knows she has to.

“Y/N's mom has recently been diagnosed with Alzheimer's,” Natasha begins carefully. “And it's been tough on her, especially since she's also trying to mend their strained relationship.”

Wanda feels her heart twist at the news. She knew of your tumultuous relationship with your mother, and the added burden of dealing with such an illness must be incredibly hard on you. It only increases her longing to be at your side, to provide you the comfort you need at this critical time.

“Moreover,” Natasha continues, “She feels like she's not yet ready to see you... that she needs more time.” 

The words sting, and Wanda can't help but feel a rush of disappointment. 

“Thank you for letting me know, Natasha,” she says, attempting a smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. “I had...well, you know, built up a lot in my head about this reunion.”

“I get that,” Natasha admits with a sigh. “And honestly? I wish she'd had the guts to tell you herself.”

Wanda looks away, blinking rapidly. “Yeah. So do I.”

Natasha's gaze lingers on Wanda's downturned face. There was a time when she despised the very sight of the woman before her, every fiber of her being resisting any empathy. But now, watching Wanda crumble, it twists something inside of her.

“Do you... do you have any idea why Y/N still doesn't feel ready to see me?” Wanda asks all of a sudden. There is a slight tremor in her voice, but she fights hard to keep her emotions in check, swallowing the lump in her throat. She needs to know, needs to understand, so she can find a way to support you, even if it's from a distance.

Natasha merely shakes her head. “I'm sorry, Wanda, but I don't have the answer,” she says, her voice carrying an undertone of regret.

Wanda gives a nod, a sad smile curving her lips. “Alright, thank you, Natasha,” she says quietly, a soft resignation in her voice. She wraps her arms around herself, as if trying to find comfort in her own embrace. Despite the gloom, she tries to put on a brave front. “Tell Y/N that... tell Y/N that I'm here, whenever she’s ready.”

“There's something else, Wanda,” Natasha says evenly, but there's a solemn look on her face that sends a shiver down Wanda's spine. “Y/N wanted me to tell you that it's okay to move on. She feels guilty that she couldn’t fulfill her promise and she doesn’t want you waiting forever.”

Wanda takes a deep breath, her eyes glistening as she fights back the tears, especially in front of your best friend.

“She... doesn't want me to wait?” Wanda's voice breaks a little as she forces the words out. 

The idea is utterly unfathomable to her. The very thought of not waiting, of possibly moving forward without you, feels foreign, almost laughable. All this time, she felt tethered to you, even with the miles and silence between. 

“No, Wanda, that’s not it,” Natasha gently corrects, her demeanor softening. “She thinks it’s not fair to you. To keep you waiting for something that might not even happen.”

Wanda blinks, a frown marring her face. “But I want to wait for her.”

Natasha sighs, rubbing her temples. “She worries that she might be holding you back from finding someone who can, well, be there for you. Someone who can offer you more certainty.”

“Does she need more time?” Wanda asks, and though she can hear the tinge of desperation in her own voice, she couldn’t bring herself to care. “I can wait, you know. I can give her all the time she needs.”

“That's the thing, Wanda,” Natasha says, meeting her eyes with a grimness that makes Wanda's heart sink. “She no longer knows when she'll be ready, if she'll ever be. She didn't want to give you an indefinite timeline.”

The gears in Wanda's mind are visibly turning as she digests the information, her face contorting with various emotions before settling on a desperate resolve. “Can I contact her? Just to see if she's okay?”

Natasha is quick to shake her head, an empathetic look on her face. “Wanda, I don't think that's a good idea.”

“But–”

“Listen,” Natasha interrupts, holding her gaze. “I understand where you're coming from. I do–”

Fury surges through Wanda. She pounds her hand on the table, her voice trembling as she snaps back, “Oh, so you know all about it, do you? Given your own track record with relationships, Natasha, can you honestly tell me you get where I'm coming from?”

“Yes,” Natasha says firmly, a statue of patience, undeterred by Wanda’s outburst. And she's able to remain steady, because she truly does get it. 

“Look, Wanda,” Natasha begins, leaning back in her chair with a sigh. “I made Bruce wait for me for years,” Her gaze falls, as if lost in the painful memories. “But all that waiting, all that uncertainty, it only bred more resentment, more pain. I hurt him more by making him wait than if I had just let him go. Perhaps I even took away many opportunities for him to be happy.”

She finally lifts her gaze to meet Wanda's. “Sometimes, we have to let go of the people we love, not because we want to, but because it's the right thing to do. It's not easy, and it hurts like hell. But sometimes, it's the kindest thing we can do.”

Wanda lapses into silence, feeling a sting of regret for having belittled Natasha's own experiences. She realizes, perhaps too late, that heartache is not a competition and that she has no right to assume that her own pain holds precedence over the other woman.

“In the end, I think Y/N is trying to spare you both from going through the same thing,” Natasha finishes, her voice thick with emotion as she allows a glimpse into her own painful past.

An extended period of silence blankets the pair as they both wrestle with their respective thoughts, looking out the window. As Wanda observes the thick snow blanketing the Manhattan pavements, she can't help but draw comparisons to the winters she experienced in Spain. The biting cold is a far cry from the Spanish winters where temperatures never dipped below zero. She likens herself to a plant frozen in an enduring winter, suddenly thawed out, expecting the warmth of spring, only to be thrown again in an even longer winter–an uncertain one.

The silence stretches on until it is broken by an awkward cough from Natasha. “So...uh,” she starts, glancing at her watch. “Is it too late to order a cup of coffee? I know you guys close in like, ten minutes?”

Wanda can't help the small chuckle that escapes her lips. Nodding, she pushes off from the table, making her way towards the counter. “It's never too late for a cup of coffee.”

Natasha follows her to the open kitchen, leaning casually against the countertop as Wanda gets to work. Wanda moves around the space with practiced ease, retrieving two mugs and starting the espresso machine.

“When did you two patch things up?” Wanda tosses out casually, glancing at Natasha while the coffee brews.

“About six months ago,” Natasha shares. Wanda acknowledges with a nod, meticulously pouring the espresso and then frothing milk, completely absorbed in her task.

“Because she took your advice?” Wanda asks over her shoulder, the undercurrent of raw emotion detectable in her otherwise composed demeanor.

Appearing a bit disconcerted, Natasha shakes her head slowly. “Truth be told, I didn't even know she took my advice... went her own separate way,” Natasha reveals, her eyes darting away. “I found out when her mother called me by accident. The anger had subsided by then. I wasn't furious anymore. I just... I missed her.”

As Wanda brings Natasha her coffee, they fall into a comfortable silence, standing side by side at the counter. 

“Even if she hadn't taken my advice, I think we would have found our way back to each other, eventually,” Natasha says, her voice soft, almost wistful. "She's my best friend, after all.”

Natasha stirs her coffee, her gaze lingering on the whirls of foam swirling in her cup. She doesn’t look at Wanda as she speaks again. “I’m sorry, Wanda,” she says, her tone solemn. “For having a hand in this. I never meant for things to turn out this way.”

Wanda gives her a long, hard look before letting out a sigh, her shoulders slumping slightly. “I know, Nat. It’s not your fault,” she says, her voice subdued. “I’m the one who set things in motion.”

Natasha, with a stern look, responds, “You can’t keep blaming yourself, Wanda.”

“I'm not blaming myself,” Wanda quickly counters, her voice carrying a faint echo of a smile. “But it's the truth. I've accepted that what happens in our future is like ripples spreading out from our decisions and actions.”

Natasha gazes at Wanda thoughtfully until Wanda starts to fidget under the intense scrutiny.

“What?” Wanda finally asks, her tone almost defensive.

“Nothing,” Natasha replies, her lips curling into a small, amused smile. “You just called me 'Nat'.”

Taken aback, Wanda gives a small, sheepish laugh. “Is that... bad?” she asks, her cheeks flushing a little in embarrassment.

“No, not at all,” Natasha's smile is warm and friendly. And for the first time, Wanda feels the start of a real, meaningful friendship between them.

Wanda’s quiet for a moment, mulling over something. Then, she breaks the silence with a soft sigh, “I'll wait for her. No matter how long it takes.”

Natasha raises her eyebrows, a clear question on her face. “Are you sure, Wanda?” She asks, her voice equally soft. “You're setting yourself up for a long, uncertain wait.”

“Yeah, I know,” Wanda murmurs, eyes instinctively darting to where the band used to be on her finger, now just a faint mark left behind. “But I want to. And... I'd appreciate it if you don't tell her. I don’t want to weigh her down with the burden of knowing that someone is here waiting for her.”

“You have my word,” she promises. Natasha takes a sip from her coffee, then poses her next question, “Hey, do you mind if I swing by here sometimes?”

Wanda gives her a mock exasperated look, rolling her eyes, “Of course, Nat. As long as you're not planning to rob me blind or something.”

Natasha chuckles at this, taking another sip and then humming in satisfaction. “Good,” she smiles appreciatively, “Because this might just be the best coffee I've ever tasted.”

***

A year and two weeks later

As you amble down the familiar streets leading to Second Chances Cafe, each footfall feels heavier than the last. You're more than a year late, and you have no idea if there's anything or anyone still waiting for you after all this time.

“Sure, Yelena, I can look into it for you,” you speak into your phone, rounding the corner onto the alley where the cafe is located. A twinge of nostalgia hits you as the signboard comes into view.

“Really?” Yelena sounds surprised and relieved all at once. “I mean, that's fantastic! You have no idea how much this could help. And don't worry about your identity being revealed. I'll make sure it stays hidden. This exposé is about uncovering the truth about Stark Industries’ tax evasion case, not dragging you into unwanted attention.”

You appreciate her consideration, knowing how much of a sticky situation it could become if your name gets thrown around with the exposé, especially considering you used to work for them.

As your conversation wraps up, you remember to send your best wishes to her partner, “Give my regards to Kate, will you?”

Yelena's laughter echoes from the other end, “She's right here. Kate, Y/N says 'hi'.”

There's a muted shout from the background, presumably Kate's greeting, and you can't help but chuckle. “Tell her I’ll beat her half-marathon record next time. I'll see you both soon.”

With that, you end the call. As you slide your phone back into your pocket, your fingers trace and then retrieve another item there–the contours of an old photo you have carried with you all this time. It’s the photo Valkyrie took of you and Wanda at the Cup-off, and you kept it with you wherever you went for more than two years. It’s tattered around the edges, but you both looked so happy, so in love, and so hopeful. 

It was a different time–a different you. 

Taking one final glance at the picture, you tuck it back safely into your pocket and push open the door to the cafe, the bell overhead jingling in recognition. The familiar sounds, the smells, the sight of the cozy interiors bring back a flood of memories. Your heart flutters with both anxiety and anticipation as you step inside, not knowing what awaits you, a year and two weeks too late.

Two unfamiliar faces are tending to the cafe at the moment. As you slowly approach the counter, you catch sight of a name tag on one of the employees–‘Daisy’, it reads. She greets you warmly, welcoming you before promptly asking for your order.

Rather than choosing a drink, your mind is focused elsewhere. You hesitate for a moment before speaking. “Actually, I was wondering…” you start, pausing to gather your thoughts. “Is the owner here today–”

Before you can even utter Wanda's name, Daisy interrupts, offering an apologetic smile. “I'm sorry, but the owner's not here right now. She's on an extended honeymoon in Asia,” she explains.

As soon as the words leave Daisy's mouth, it's as if everything around you ceases to exist. The casual banter, that constant buzz of the espresso machine, even the sound of mugs and spoons clattering, it all just blends into some distant background noise. 

“Honeymoon?” The word tumbles out of your mouth, your voice sounding foreign to your own ears, the impact of the statement making your heart lurch uncomfortably in your chest. “She's... married?”

Daisy nods sympathetically, her eyes showing a hint of surprise at your visible shock. “Yes, they left three months ago. I think they're in Bali now... or was it Thailand?”

Her words ricochet inside your mind, leaving you grappling with the sudden change in reality. Looking back, you guess it isn't the worst thing that could have happened. Honestly, you had no idea what you were walking into when you decided to come here. After all, you had asked Natasha to tell Wanda not to wait.

And that’s it, Wanda found love again, real enough for her to want to say 'yes' to a new beginning with someone else, and you’re–

You’re happy for her. At the end of the long dwindling tunnel, you just wanted to see Wanda once again. If not, you want to make sure she’s happy and living her life to the fullest. 

And knowing that makes you feel okay, maybe even hopeful, about moving forward. 

The smile that makes its way to your lips isn’t forced. It’s not as big as you hope it would be but it’s genuine. As you take in your surroundings, seeing the expanded area of the cafe, you can’t help but be proud of her. 

It's so overwhelming that you don't even notice the tears tracing a warm path down your cheeks until you hear Daisy's voice.

“Ma'am, are you alright?” she asks, concern etched in her young face.

Surprised, you hastily swipe at your eyes with chilled fingers.

“May I leave something for her?” you ask Daisy, pulling out the polaroid from earlier. You take a moment, looking at it one last time, before flipping it over and pulling out a pen.

With careful, slow strokes, you inscribe the words, ‘I'm happy for you, wherever you are.’ 

As you pass the photograph over to Daisy, the reality of the situation seeps in, casting a definitive end to the chapter that was. The young woman before you studies the photograph, her brows knitting together in confusion, a detail you fail to notice as you begin to take your leave.

Wanda is your greatest love–enough to last you this lifetime. You’ll find a way to spend the rest of your life without her, knowing what you two had will sustain you until your last breath. 

Daisy watches as you walk away, wondering who you were and why it felt like she had said the wrong thing.

Just moments after you step out of the cafe, its door swings open again to let in a breathless Wanda, her arms laden with grocery bags. 

She narrowly missed your visit by a heartbeat.

“God, this city is unbearably cold,” she grumbles, setting down the bags onto the counter with a huff. Daisy wastes no time handing her the keepsake you had left behind only moments ago.

“Hey Wanda, this was left for you,” Daisy says, extending your memento towards her.

Wanda, still catching her breath from her rush over, eyes the object in Daisy's hand with curiosity. From where she stands she can already tell what it is and who it’s from. The world seems to pause, almost taking a breath, as she hesitantly extends a trembling hand to take it.

Her voice breaks a bit as she asks, “Who... who dropped this off? When was this?”

Daisy, reading the urgency in Wanda's eyes, scrambles to recall. “A woman came in not long ago…” she starts, but Wanda's already dashing for the exit before she can finish.

Holding the photograph close to her chest, Wanda barely gives Daisy a chance to finish her sentence before she's out of the cafe, the door swinging shut behind her with a soft chime. Daisy, left in a daze by the abrupt departure, hardly has time to process what just happened.

Then, just as quickly, Wanda bursts back in, her face flushed from the adrenaline. “Which way did she go?” she asks urgently. Daisy, taken aback, simply points north. 

With a nod of thanks, Wanda takes off in that direction. Based on Daisy's indication, she surmises you’re probably headed towards the subway station. Her heart pounds in her chest as she makes her way through the familiar streets, the city's buzz fading to a dull roar in her ears. All she can focus on is the hope that she's not too late, that she might still catch you.

Racing towards the station with swift, almost reckless strides, the life she shared with you hit Wanda like a tidal wave. As each scene of their past plays out in her mind, she sends a silent prayer to anyone listening above, begging for a chance to find you.

Wanda's footsteps echo in the nearly deserted subway station. It's a lull between the usual crowds, making the vast space feel even more desolate. The sparsely populated platform should have made it easier to spot you, but instead, it made the hollow in her chest grow.

As she steps onto the almost empty platform, the glaring absence of familiar faces or shapes drowns her in dread. Every corner she checks, every shadow she hopes will move to reveal you, and with each passing second, the sinking feeling in her gut grows. 

Drawing a deep, shaky breath, she fights off the building tears, hoping against all odds for a glimpse, a hint, any sign that she hasn't missed her chance.

And then she sees you.

You're at the far end of the platform, bundled up in a thick black coat, hands rubbing together in a bid to fight off the cold. You blow into them, your breath fogging up in the chill.

For a beat, Wanda just watches. She doesn't rush, doesn't shout. She simply approaches with measured steps, drinking in the sight of you, allowing this moment to stretch out. 

As she gets closer, she takes in the subtle changes. The way your hair falls around your face, the look of concentration as you keep yourself warm, the way your shoulders hunch slightly against the cold. 

It's you, but also a different you, one shaped by time and distance.

She stops just beyond your immediate circle, her heart pounding furiously within her chest. Yet, before her lips part to speak your name, something–shift, an intuition–makes you pivot sharply towards her.

Your eyes blink slowly in surprise and then they quickly flick to her left ring finger.

It's bare. 

Your mouth drops open, then shuts again, clearly struggling to comprehend the sight of Wanda standing only a few feet away. 

“The woman from the coffee shop... she said you were married?” 

“That's Agatha,” Wanda responds, tears welling in her eyes.

“But she mentioned the owner–”

“I sold the cafe to her a year ago. I'm in the process of setting up a restaurant. I... I've been assisting at the cafe while she's on her honeymoon,” Wanda explains with a faint laugh.

“I thought–” Your voice breaks off, and the overwhelming urge to pull her into an embrace nearly overpowers you. Yet, there's a question, one that burns with urgency, that you need to clarify. 

Any more confusion could devastate what's left of your heart.

“Are you with someone else?”

Wanda releases a noise, somewhere between a chuckle and a choked cry, and then she's rushing into your arms, pressing her lips to yours in a kiss that's tear-streaked, snotty, a little gross, yet absolutely perfect. 

Because kissing Wanda Maximoff could never be anything other than perfect. ​​You hesitantly deepen the kiss, and suddenly, it's like a dam breaking. The cold metal and concrete around you are replaced by the warmth of her body pressed against yours. A faint scent of her shampoo wafts over, one that you recognize from days long past.

Your fingers, almost of their own accord, find their way to her face, tracing the contours you once knew so well, feeling the dampness of her tears. The intensity of the kiss shifts with each moment–at times tender, at times desperate, like a language only the two of you understand.

Breaking the kiss, she pulls back just enough to look you in the eyes, her own filled with a level of intensity that nearly takes your breath away.

“I'm not with anyone,” she says, her words tumbling out between gasping breaths. “There hasn't been anyone else for the last two years. It's only ever been you–”

“Me too,” you whisper against her lips before diving back into another kiss. This kiss is different, less desperate, but it’s as if this single kiss is mending the broken threads of the past, sealing the promise that you two will never let go again.

But eventually, you have to let go and let her breathe. Pulling back just a hair, you rest your forehead against Wanda's. “God, I've missed you,” you murmur, eyes still closed, half-afraid that this might just vanish if you dare to look.

Wanda gives a watery chuckle, “You have no idea.”

“I'm sorry I'm a year late,” you utter, tears suddenly spilling over before you can rein them in. The thought that Wanda might have really been the one that got married, that you could have truly lost her, crashes over you.

Wanda gently strokes your cheek with her thumb, her eyes soft and understanding. “Even if you're always late,” she murmurs, her lips tantalizingly close to yours, “I'll always wait for you.”

Holding Wanda close, you feel an overwhelming desire to ask her to marry you again. But this time, you won't rush it. After all, there’s two years of new things to learn about each other. And you want to cherish everything–the way her eyes light up when she laughs, the warmth of her hand in yours, and the quiet moments shared over morning coffee. 

You want to learn from your past, not rush into the future. You're ready to enjoy each day, to let your relationship grow and strengthen naturally. You're willing to be patient, because you know that the journey is just as important as the destination.

Wanda raises an eyebrow, a teasing glint in her eye as she waves the photograph slightly. “You really just dropped off this photo and planned to leave? Wishing me happiness like that?”

You nod, sniffling, “It meant everything to me. I thought... I thought if I couldn't be with you, at least I could hope you found happiness.”

Wanda's expression softens, her fingers tracing the lines of your palm before squeezing your hand reassuringly. “So, you were just gonna let me go, thinking I had moved on?” She laughs softly, though there's a tremble in her voice.

You swallow, the tightness in your throat making it hard to speak. “A lot can happen in two years, Wanda,” you say, meeting her gaze squarely. “More than anything, I wanted you to be happy... whether that was with me or someone else.”

She tilts her head, her eyes searching yours for a moment. “Two years,” she muses, as if contemplating the weight of every day, every hour that had passed between you two. Wanda takes your hand, squeezing it gently. "Let's not lose any more time," she whispers, intertwining her fingers with yours. 

You eventually miss the train that you’re supposed to take. 

But it doesn’t matter.

You’re already home.

Taglist: @canvascoloredin | @justgotlizzied , @casquinhaa | @marvelwomen-simp | @sunsol-22 | @wandanatlov3r | @kyaraderuwez | @justyourwritter69 | @stanolsevans | @aliherreraaa | @diaryoflife| @justagurlwholikes | @lizziesplant | @cowxpoke | @sokovianbaby| @swiftie1-0-1 | @scarlettbitchx | @tercerspirit-22 | @hyper-fixated-delusions

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x you #wanda x you #wanda maximoff #ifiss 2 #ilgoss #my writing #my fic #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #wanda maximoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff #agatha harkness #peter parker #daisy johnson #marvel

[equallyshaw]

its always been you | jack hughes.

•

blurb + social media edit.

•

jack hughes x mid size oc.

•

Warnings: self esteem issues, low confidence, guys being assholes, some sexual themes. alluding to sex.

Word count: 4.06K

——

'it's always been you'

jack was a lot of things you could say, but he was most importantly blairs best friend since he moved to canton years ago. she grew up across the street from the ever chaotic hughes boys, who somehow always pulled her and her brother out of the house.

or at least he was her best friend, once he left for the show; messages and facetimes stopped. her family moved away shortly to san diego after she began her freshman year at university of southern california, double majoring in pre law and political science. she slowly but surely over the course of the years had begun to faze him out of her life, knowing full well he got rid of her too. blair recently graduated from USC with manga cum laude and decided to consider the possibility of moving to new york to start her life. her older brother joey had been out there for 6 years already, with college and now his professional career. and so here she was, two suitcases packed for two full weeks of sightseeing and potential job hunting in the city.

she strolled out of jfk, looking for her brother who stood waiting beside his car and once the two found one another they quickly jogged over to one another. "hey sis, glad you made it in safety!" he said taking the two suitcases from the girl, to put in the trunk. she hopped in the driver side, quickly connecting her phone to the Bluetooth. "couldn't wait 2 secs could you?" he joked, as he hopped in hearing olivia rodrigo blaring. "nah." she grinned, letting her parents know she was with her brother. "coffee?" he mused, and she nodded excitedly. "ya know it." she smiled.

•

she had been here 2 days already and had done some sightseeing with her brother on the first day, and then yesterday explored lower manhattan and had stopped in to see where her brother worked, in the financial district. tonight though, they were going to be going out with some of his friend group and she was nervous. she hated being in a room of people in public no less without meeting them first one on one, but he promised her they were cool and very chill. besides, they were excited to meet the young girl who kept him on his toes. and the one who always had a joke to say. she sat down at the vanity an hour before they had to leave and quickly did some natural makeup and loose waves, before picking out a black crop long sleeve, short black faux leather skirt, black ankle boots and a small green purse. she walked out to the living room greeting her brother's girlfriend who smiled widely. "ouuu yes! i love the outfit blair!" she said genuinely and blair blushed. "you look great, i love it! you are gonna rock it." mogan spoke softer so just she could hear it and blair nodded, and thanked her for the support. she had changed over the course of four years and her body changed drastically. her 5'2 figure took a hit and that in turn lowered her self esteem and confidence within herself. she had been invited over the years to visit two friends at university of michigan but felt so poorly of herself, she never went. she didn't want anybody to see how much she'd change, even went as far to make a new instagram. besides, she had a whole new life out in california and that made it easier for her to never look back. and lets be honest, she didn't want jack or his brothers to see how she looked. she had adored the middle child the three years she knew him and once things started to change, she knew she could never be enough for him.

morgan grabbed ahold of the girl's hand as they walked towards the restaurant in greenwhich village. "have you guys been here before?" blair questioned as they quickly went to their usual seats. morgan nodded, "yeah all the time!" she beamed. the three walked towards the back, their friends all jumping up to greet the sister. "hi I'm jackson, nice to meet the girl who keeps him on his toes!" the dark haired man said causing her to laugh, "ofcourse! blair nice to meet you jackson!" she said hugging him back quickly. "I'm jackie! i work with morgan, nice to finally meet you! heard so much about ya. by the way, i love the outfit!!!" jackie said hugging the girl, and blair smiled thanking her. she moved on to three other people, two girls and a guy and then she sat down next to her brother. "has he convinced you yet to move here full time?" aaron questioned and she shook her head at the tall redhead. "nah not yet, though I'm sure its coming." she giggled, and the rest laughed. the waiter came over to collect drink orders, and she ordered a cranberry vodka and water. "where do you wanna work again?" her brother asked and blair smiled, "either go to law school to become yknow a lawyer or in a government agency. not too sure yet." she said shrugging and the others nodded. "well I'm sure jackson could hook you up, he works for town hall." and jackson shrugged nodding. "yeah, its a nice gig." he said. the group fell into a comfortable conversation, and trying to get to know the girl a bit more.

two hours later, they decided to head up to upper east side to go to a club, and so they made the almost hour treck up from Greenwich village. they ended up at one that the group frequented and once they got inside, joey took blair up to the bar to get drinks. the two stood there conversing as they waited for the drinks. that's when she saw him. no, not jack but the knock off kurt russell who played in california. somehow, she'd avoided him despite her parents living in the same area as him. trevor did a double take to the siblings before clapping his hand on joey's shoulder, causing blair to look up and catch trevors eye. "hey man, whats up?" joey said turning around and bro hugging with him. "good good, playing in the best league is more than i could ask!" trevor said cheekily and joey nodded, turning back to blair. trevor looked at blair as if she was somebody he'd never met before, "is this your girl?" trevor asked somewhat crass. blair shook her head, "no this is blair!" joey said looking at trevor like he was an idiot. "oh my god blair! how are you?! i didn't even recognize you." trevor said now realizing his mistake and blair took that to heart. she swallowed hardly, trying to not cry. she cursed her damn sensitivity. "i-im alright." she said smiling weakly, before looking over and seeing the tray of drinks. "good seeing you man." joey said somewhat crass, annoyed with the hockey player. "yeah, you too! is it true your parents are in newport?" he asked and joey nodded before walking off with blair. trevor stood their for a brief few seconds before taking drink and rushing back to the group.

blair chugged her cranberry vodka, surprisingly fast. joey watched as she did so, and then went to take a shot of tequila. she coughed as it finished going down, and he clapped her back a few times. "I'm gonna get another one." she said and joey wrapped an arm around her, not allowing her too. "no you're not getting drunk..at least not yet." he winked and she rolled her eyes. "come on lets go dance, girly!" morgan said pulling the girl out to the dance floor. ofcourse dancing queen had to be on, and the girl jumped in a circle along with jackie and annabelle the other girl that was jackson's girlfriend.

as soon as trevor reached the group that consisted of quinn, luke, jack, alex, cole, pk and a few other players in their group. "yo guys you wont believe i just saw at the bar!" he said freaking out, and some of the guys laughed. "who?" alex questioned throwing an arm over his shoulder. "joey and blair anderson!" he said breathlessly. "woah calm down their bud." alex joked laughing, as the three hughes searched the crowd for the siblings. once blair left right after the draft to move with her parents to california, joey fell off the face of the planet as well. quinn and joey had been the closest due to age and playing for usndtp together, and so that had hurt him as well. "where is she? i see joey but not her." jack said looking at trevor and trevor searched the crowd too. "she looks completely different, i thought she was his girlfriend." and then he found her. trevor pointed towards the quartet of girls, and jack needed no confirmation of which one was which. the same dark hair that sometimes crept up in his dreams was the same as when they were in highschool. he took in how much she had changed physically and absolutely adored the softness of her hips that peeked out from her cropped sweater. the subtle roundness of her cheeks, with her dimples ever present.

"damn shes changed." cole said and jack could feel the judgeness of his voice, as he finished that statement. "so?" jack said feeling himself getting angry and then cole recognized his mood changing. "like it fucking matters." quinn said hitting cole in the chest, understanding what cole was trying to say. "I'm getting another drink." jack said standing up and walking towards the bar. back on the dance floor, blair craved another cranberry vodka and pulled morgan over with her. "hi, can i please have a cranberry vodka!" blair asked and they nodded, putting it on joeys tab. blair and morgan talked at the bar, not realizing that jack was on the other end of it downing two shots. "thankyou!" blair said taking the drink and shot that was put down in front of the two. the two clinked the glasses together and once on the bar before throwing them back. blair coughed again and laughed as morgan's face grimaced. as soon as jack heard the coughing, he looked down and realized that blair was inches from him. now or never he thought, as she was about to walk off. "blair!" he said but she didn't hear him, he took two big steps and called her once again and she froze, before turning around. who could possibly know me here, she asked herself. she turned around jack and her eyes went wide. "blai-" he said once more, reaching out a hand before she speed off with morgan back to the table. jack caught joey's eye and his eyes went wide as well before turning his attention back to blair. jack stood there seeing if joey would walk over, but he didn't. instead the two of them plus morgan calling it a night.

•

it was the next morning and blair was staring at the ceiling of the guest bedroom. she groaned rolling over, and pushing her face into the pillow. she hadn't been able to get jacks shocked face out of her head the whole night. she had had a nightmare about the summer she left for california with her parents, and he had forgotten her birthday. she didn't realize she was crying until she heard a sob tumble out of her, as her mind with self doubts. she sat up, crying into her hands and thanked the universe her brother and his girlfriend had left for brunch awhile ago. she declined their invitation and said she just wanted to sleep. she wiped her tears, and got out of bed throwing on a sweater and a pair of black leggings and her birkenstocks on. she decided she needed some coffee and a breakfast sandwich to lift her mood just a bit. she walked out of her brothers apartment and headed down to starbucks on the corner. she took in the sights, smells and sound of saturday early afternoon. she thanked the person that opened the door for her, and headed to the line quickly. she got her usual cold brew and sausage sandwich, and sat down at the table by the window. she scrolled through tiktok, trying her very hardest to laugh like a maniac in public.

about 30 minutes into her stay, she felt somebody staring but she pushed it away. not wanting to give anybody her undivided attention. she stood up a few minutes later, and headed towards the trash to throw away her garbage. as she was about to open the door, somebody did it for her. she looked up at the blue eyes she had once adored. she sighed seeing trevor and cole accompanying the player. she walked out quickly, heading back to her brothers apartment. she was close to the door once she heard her name. she rolled her eyes knowing it was jack, and so she slowed down a bit and waited for him to catch up. "blair!" he said finally reaching her and stepped in front of her. her eyebrows creased, looking up at him. all 5'11 of him. "yes?" she questioned, crossing her arms across her chest. he knew that nervous tick she had done from the very first time they met. "uh- how are you doing?" he asked, pushing some hair out of his face. she rolled her eyes, and continued her trek towards the front door of the apartment building. "wait blair!" he said pulling her arm, and she yanked it back. "hi how are you doing? after four years jack, seriously? fuck off." she breathed, turning back. "hey you didn't reach out either, ok?" he said and she stopped looking back at him. "i congratulated you, you ass. i texted you the night you got drafted and never got a response, jack. so that's on you, not me." she seethed, and he realized that he'd been in the wrong. "i cried every night that summer, in a scary and strange new place and you- you didn't even reach out once my parents dropped the move on your parents." she said feeling tears pool her eyes. "all i wanted was my best friend and you didn't care enough about me it seems, which is on me." she said before turning back to the door. "blair please." he pleaded. she opened it and looked back at jack who stood there processing everything. "come on jack." she said holding the door for him, and he quickly took the chance.

•

she set her coffee down on the kitchen counter and placed her hands on her hips, trying to figure out what she wanted to say. "i'm sorry i didn't respond, I'm sorry i never reached out to you or said happy birthday. i know that's on me, there's no excuse for it. i didn't find out you moved until august when we came back to for a michigan game, and my parents told us. they'd kept it from us because they didn't want to tell us over text, but in person. i realized that i had tested fate, thinking you'd be home waiting for me. and - and i guess i was heartbroken that you didn't tell me yourself. i was losing my best friend and somebody i - i had fallen for.. in one moment." he sighed as he paused, biting his lip. blair turned around at his confession, did he really just say that? he met her eye, as she processed it. "it doesn't matter anymore jack, im not that same girl. hell, i haven't been that same girl since i left. things changed pretty quickly for me freshman year, and i-i- im not meant to be in your life clearly." she said pinching her nose. "whats that supposed to mean? why arent you supposed to be in my life?" he asked, stepping towards her and invading her space. he grabbed ahold of her hands, and she pulled them back. she shook her head, looking at the floor. "im not the kind of girl you're supposed to be seen with." she said sadly, "look at me jack. i changed in more than one way when i moved...and have fought so many battles just to be standing here today. one's you can't fathom." she said shutting her eyes, "haven't you realized its always been you?" he whispered and she reopened her eyes to look up at him. "what?" she said barely coming out as a whisper. he smiled softly chuckling a bit, "you are your hardheadedness could never see how hard i was trying to get you to realize i liked you more than as a friend. i was trying so hard, the guys couldn't help but laugh at every attempt. calling me a fool knowing you'd never realize until i said something." he said shaking his head as if he couldn't believe the years he spent pining over her. "wait what?" she said looking into his eyes. "you thought i was just being nice? oh no..I'm not that nice to just anybody" he said laughing and she shook her head blushing. "you fool! you idiot!" she said slapping his chest, somewhat angry and somewhat sad. he grabbed ahold of her hands again and pulled them into his chest, "its always been you bean, i have never once stopped thinking about you, even if you did change your Instagram and slip off the face of the earth. i still never stopped, you can ask my brothers." he said inching closer to her face. she blinked twice before biting the inside of her cheek, "but I'm not right for you." she said frustratedly. he shook his head, "i like this version of you blair, don't sell yourself too short. i know i will absolutely adore you, bean. i promise you that." he said before placing his lips on hers. their lips felt as if they had kissed a million times before. she moved her hands up to his neck, desperate to be as close as possible. he wrapped his arms around her hips before moving to her lower back. they pulled apart, resting their foreheads against one another's, catching their breaths.

tears pooled both of their eyes as they looked at one another, "I've thought about doing that for years." he said cheekily and she grinned, "I've been waiting for that for years too." she hummed before reconnecting them.

•

one last hurrah was planned to michigan before the season started and jack invited her to his and his brother's lake house near where they grew up. she had met up with the three of them the day before they planned to leave for brunch. "i-i don't know." she said leaning back in her chair. "go have fun, ill still be here when you wanna come back." joey said from beside her, "there its been decided." quinn smiled lightly clapping his hands together.

•

jack took ahold of blair's hand as they walked through detroit airport, walking towards baggage claim. "I'm nervous." she whispered to him as they waited. he wrapped his arm around her shoulder and looked at her in the eyes, "you have no idea how much they've missed you hun. everything will be great." he said kissing her temple. she nodded, resting her head against his chest. they made it out 15 minutes later and searched for ellen and jimmy's car. once they heard that blair was coming into town, they quickly volunteered to pick them up. once ellen found luke in the crowd, she saw quinn then jack and then on the girl she had always considered her daughter. jimmy found them as well and smiled at ellen once he saw that her and jack were holding hands. "blair!" ellen smiled widely, wrapping her arms around the girl. blair was transported back to one of the first hugs she had received from the queen herself and melted. "i've missed you so much babygirl!" she whispered before pulling back to inspect the 5'2 girl. "don't hound her." jimmy joked, and blair smiled before hugging him. jimmy had also considered the young girl their daughter, a testament to the amount of time she spent over at the house. blair stepped back, right to jacks side as they all put the luggage in the back. luke hopped in first, with quinn in the back and then jack and her sat in the middle seats. they drove towards the lakehouse.

•

jack gave a tour to blair, and she could only imagine how much fun the three had here during the offseason. it was definitely a bachelors pad, with the amount of boyish and frat items they possessed. "this is your room." jack said opening the guest room door and she saw her luggage. she nodded softly before thanking him. "its late i should start getting ready for bed." she said and he nodded before walking out. she sat on the bed placing her head in her hands. she took in the very clean and crisp guestroom, knowing full well ellen had her hand in here at some point. blair quickly got ready for bed, and then tossed and turned for two hours not being able to fall asleep. especially knowing jack was down the hall, mere feet away from her. the summer after they moved to canton, her and his family went out to new hampshire and spent a month out there living with them. and there were many nights the two fell asleep in each others arms, one or the other not wanting to go back to their bed after talking for hours. jack down the hall was tossing and turning as well, thinking about the same thing. he was about to get up when he heard a soft knock at his door, before it opened. he heard the familiar soft feet of blairs. she had an oversized trojan t-shirt draping over her small frame, as she finally came into view. the moonlight cascading into the bedroom windows, allowing him to see all of her. "i couldn't sleep." she said and he got up, "me neither." he now stood in front of her, and she could feel the familiar warmth of him as he did so. the familiar chest of the hockey player, directly in her eyesight. "i had a feeling you'd be up, bean." he hummed smirking and she rolled her eyes. "what can i say, i missed my twin." she mused looking up at him. "its a good thing i missed you too." he said pulling her in by the cheeks and kissing her. they moved in sync towards the bed, molten with newfound freedom and feelings.

she sat back on the edge of the bed, jack coming in between her legs and then moving her further into the bed. they parted for a brief second, "are you sure?" he questioned and she nodded before she reconnected the two's lips. jack wasted no time in taking her shirt off and then her shorts, but slowly took her all in as if they'd never be in this situation again. "you are a fuckin goddess." he spoke into her neck, planting a few kisses down it. her back arched softly, wanting more of him. she pressed a kiss into his lips as things progressed into more.

•

the two laid in each other's arms, the sun now rising. jack had spent time whispering sweet nothings and sweet words that made her heart swell, for the past two hours. they also spent time talking about what they had missed in the past few years, and talked about their future and what they wanted to do. together and separately. she now had her head on his chest, and was looking up at him. "i want you to come to jersey, i don't care if its fast or careless but i cant go anymore without you. i don't think my heart could handle it." he said softly and she smiled. "thankfully i planned on heading out there." she grinned now, as he smiled. he placed a kiss on her lips once more, entangling once again.

•

@jackhughes: look who showed up just in time for the season.

tag: blairanderson

104k likes, 23.7k comments.

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@_quinnhughes: just like old times 🫣🥹

@lhughes_06: mom can u come pick me up pls

@jackhughes: sorry not sorry

@joeyanderson: I guess all is right in the world

@elhughes: it’s is Joey!

@blairanderson: jackyyyy

@jackhughes: blairrrr

@alexturcotte: missed you blair bear !

@blairanderson: missed u too turcs 🫶🏻

@mattboldy: holy crap it actually happened

@blairanderson: it did !!

@fanone: it’s so dry in here

@fantwo: awe she looks so sweet

@colecaufield: happy for you guys!

@jackhughes has liked comment.

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@blairanderson: i could get used to this

Tag: jackhughes

233 likes, 66 comments. (Private account)

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@joeyanderson: gross

@morgansmith: omg i love this !!!!

@joeyanderson: babe no

@blairanderson: I love u morgs!

@camyork: bean!!!!! Oh my god

@blairandersond hi cam cam!

@alexturcotte: I still bet u could still beat him at cards

@blairanderson: I reckon I could 🤝🏻

@jackhughes: it’s on babe!

@elblue: so glad to have you back in the family sweetie!

@blairanderson: me too!!

@jackhughes: I think we should hang one of these up in the condo

@lhughes_06: pls no

@blairanderson: I have so many ideas !!!

@alexvlasic: blair bear omg you posting again?!

@blairanderson: vlassy yes! Ended my hiatus (:

@brendan.brisson: awe my favs

@blairanderson: 🫶🏻

@trevorzegras: happy for you two!!

@blairanderson has liked comment

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Hope you all enjoyed— please like and reblog if you did!!

Random tags: @huggybug @slafgoalskybaby @cuttergauthier @skatesnstuff @boldysswld @makarhughes @itsnotgray

#Jack hughes #Jack hughes x oc #jack hughes blurb #Jack hughes imagine #jack hughes fic #hockey #nhl #nhl fic #hockey bkurb #hockey fic #hockey imagine #nhl blurb #Quinn hughes

[posttexasstressdisorder]

They killed our Jesus: A Lament for Generation Jones

Two things happened in 1980 that would ensure the iron grip of the fascist state would (first slowly, then quickly), tighten on the entirety of the nation's populace from that moment forward: Ronald fucking Reagan was installed as president, and a CIA-psyop'd Christian Nationalist shot and killed John Lennon.

Those two things are connected.

First let's look at exactly who "Generation Jones" encompasses, and specific moments in the generational timeline that defined our future. The wiki page is actually quite good. Here's an excerpt that really hits it on the head:

"The name "Generation Jones" has several connotations, including a large anonymous generation, a "keeping up with the Joneses" competitiveness and the slang word "jones" or "jonesing", meaning a yearning or craving.[17][18][19] Pontell suggests that Jonesers inherited an optimistic outlook as children in the 1960s, but were then confronted with a different reality as they entered the workforce during Reaganomics and the shift from a manufacturing to a service economy, which ushered in a long period of mass unemployment. Mortgage interest rates increased to above 12 percent in the mid-eighties,[20] making it virtually impossible to buy a house on a single income. De-industrialization arrived in full force in the mid-late 1970s and 1980s; wages would be stagnant for decades, and 401Ks replaced pensions, leaving them with a certain abiding "jonesing" quality for the more prosperous days of the past.

Generation Jones is noted for coming of age after a huge swath of their older brothers and sisters in the earlier portion of the Baby Boomer population had; thus, many note that there was a paucity of resources and privileges available to them that were seemingly abundant to older Boomers. Therefore, there is a certain level of bitterness and "jonesing" for the level of doting and affluence granted to older Boomers but denied to them.[21]"

That sets the stage, for the most part. I was four when JFK was shot on TV. I was a wide-eyed, open-eared five year old when The Beatles were on Ed Sullivan and The Supremes were on the radio. I was ten when we landed on the moon, and I wanted to be a hippie at Woodstock at eleven. "Basketball Jones" came out when I was 12...I jonesed for a telescope because SPACE and got one from that great maker of fine telescopes, KMart.

Generationally, we jonesed to be ten years older, so we could have had all the cool shit THEY had. They had The Beatles, and we had the solo Beatles, they had Hendrix, Cream, Jefferson Airplane, and we had the fucking BeeGees and disco. It's like we, as a generation, were fated to live The K-Mart Knockoff of Life, instead of the bright, shiny Brand Name One all our older brothers and sisters got.

MUSIC and SCIENCE were EVERYTHING to us as kids/teens...the Eshittification Of Music truly began in 1973, and proceeded through SynthPop Hell in the '80s. Rock and Roll heroes became hairdos with guitars. The rock heroes of the '60s were getting married and having kids and baking bread. AM Radio ceased to be something you listened to for music...it began to replace music with strident, screaming hate voices that would eventually engulf all of AM Radio 24/7/365.

We were continually thwarted most of the way from our young adulthood on, blatantly from the moments in 1980 that the vile Ronald Reagan and the core operatives of evil for the next 50 years took over, and then the moment of what I call "Our Generational Wounding", the murder of John Lennon.

Back in '66, John had inflamed all the grandpas of todays magats by saying (truthfully) that with teens, The Beatles were more popular than Jesus. Beatle hate became a Very Big Thing in Bumfuck South Texas. Record burnings, merchandise burnings, book burnings, all were commonplace. A very palpable, and very specifically "Anti-Beatle" hate got instilled in a lot of kids/teens at that point, so anything to do with the Beatles was taboo for "good people" (read Southern Baptists) to like.

That, of course, made me love them that much more, and to follow their paths from their breakup forward with 'bated breath, buying every 45 they put out, trying to save pennies up to buy their albums.

John was the radical hippie, the one who wanted peace, the one with the weirdo wife, the one who held a "Bed-In" for peace. In a very fundamental-to-our-generation way, John Lennon was OUR "Jesus".

Richard Nixon (president from '68 to '74) HATED him.

In 1971, there was a true mass consciousness that incorporated us along with our older siblings, a musical mass consciousness. I became aware of many things in 1969, specifically fall of '69, so I was experiencing all this in real-time, as it happened. When the news that The Beatles officially broke up came across the AM radiowaves in May of '70, it was A. Very. Big. Deal. Everyone watched everything they did from that point on with GREAT interest.

George put out "My Sweet Lord" and "What Is Life" (first record I ever bought), John put out "Instant Karma", "Mother", then "Power To The People", then "Imagine". Ringo put out "It Don't Come Easy", and Paul & Linda had "Uncle Albert/Admiral Halsey". EVERYBODY was a "post-breakup Beatle critic", panning Paul's very first solo 45 "Another Day", "Uncle Albert" was the followup. This band called Badfinger that sounded suspiciously like The Beatles appeared on American radio, and would make 1972 one of the final "Golden Years" of AM Rock Radio.

In 1970 we heard about this Elton John guy, by the end of '72, I was playing as many of his songs on the piano as I could figure out. My favorite album was (still is) "Madman Across The Water". When "Goodbye Yellow Brick Road" came out in '73, a very noticeable shift was occuring.

Pop became much less political. It softened. It mellowed. It grew its hair long and lived in the country, learned how to grow potatoes and play the mandolin, making Country Rock the one lasting "legacy" of our sad sub-generation. By the time I graduated HS in May of '77, it was all there was on the radio, besides....disco. Oof.

One of my first TV memories was JFK getting shot. That was the Generational Wounding of our older brothers and sisters. When Mark Chapman (a Christian nationalist who changed the words of "Imagine" to "Imagine there's no John Lennon") shot John in December of 1980, it was the 2 in the 1-2 PUNCH done to our OUR generation. The first, of course, being the installing of Reagan and the evil Evangelical influence beginning in earnest.

It also began the buildup of the "Holy War" radical right, and an utter denial and clampdown of "hippie", of "counterculture" in general began, ensuring that John's vision of world peace would never come true, at least not on their watch. They had, effectively, killed OUR Jesus, along with our chances of the kind of security our older sibs got in spades. It also marked the unholy marriage of the evangelicals and the republican apparatus.

When Reagan got elected by virtue of the vile Newt Gingrich's 'Southern Strategy', a clampdown in earnest on the very SPIRITUAL EXISTENCE of our generation's incredible want and need, our collective JONESING for world peace began. Richard Nixon had planted the seeds. Nixon hated John Lennon with a passion. After Reagan was elected, I firmly believe Chapman was "activated" and they killed John as a Christmas present to Nixon.

It was after that, when the dream of a scientific future began to die, as well. When we were in high school, SCIENCE WAS EVERYTHING, so we wanted to be some kind of scientist "when we grew up".

I dealt with four years of college, majored in Biology, and in early 1981 realized my dream of being a Forest Ranger in Yosemite or some other national park somewhere, living in a cabin, giving talks to visitors about the biology aspects of the park....all that went POOF, almost instantaneously. My degree would get me nowhere, so I left before the end of that year and started working in record stores.

I was effectively the Cusack character in the movie about record stores, but it led to a dead end. Record stores weren't all that glamorous, and yes, the pay was dogshit. I tried working in record stores for the love of the music, while trying to BE a musician in a town FILLED OVER FLOWING with musicians, but that was quickly shat on by the beginning shrieks of late-stage capitalism.

It was like working in the record stores was my trying to keep holding onto the dream, our generation's dream...John's dream of world peace (along with my dream of being a working musician) died a pitiful death by the end of 1986.

What followed was nothing but a series of Jobs I Hated, and the beginnings of the true Jonesing for the life we'd been promised, because we didn't get the raises, the pensions, the house, the car, boat and camper, none of that shit for us. A life of being a low-paid, no-insurance drub, destined to be a life-long renter, unless a financial miracle happens.

So when people ask why we (as a generation) hate Ronald Reagan so much, let's just say I'm with Bugs on this one.

[dc-multiverse-week]

Earth-21: In a world where JFK never died and is ready to lead the United States to the stars. This Earth is protected by young science heroes and pioneers of the Justice League of America

#earth 21 #Justice League of America #active heroes: #Aquaman #Flash II #Green Lantern #Martian Manhunter #Wonder Woman #based on DC: The New Frontier #<<in case that's a selling point for you #dc multiverse #dc comics #dc multiverse week

[deadpresidents]

"Thank you Mr. President" Jackie Kennedy's letter to LBJ less than 24 hours after burying JFK

When Lyndon Baines Johnson was sworn in as President on board Air Force One at Love Field in Dallas, Texas on November 22, 1963, Jackie Kennedy was standing next to him, her pink Chanel dress, white gloves, and bare legs smeared with the blood and brain matter of her assassinated husband.  Traumatized and almost certainly in shock, Jackie wanted to support the new President and new First Lady as power was officially transferred in the same solemn ceremony that has always marked such an occasion in American History.  As the Presidential airplane left Dallas and returned to the nation's capital, Jackie sat in the back of the plane with the coffin containing her husband's body.

Despite her deep personal loss, her traumatic experience, and her obvious physical exhaustion, Jackie threw herself into planning President Kennedy's funeral as soon as she returned to Washington, D.C.  Jackie was sensitive to the needs of the country and protective of her husband's legacy.  When she arrived at the White House, she requested information about the exact specifications of Abraham Lincoln's funeral after he was assassinated in 1865.  Even though it was the middle of the night, Kennedy staffers went to the National Archives and the Library of Congress to research the Lincoln funeral and Jackie helped make plans for the pageantry that would commence over the next few days.  With a few minor exceptions, JFK's funeral was nearly an exact replica of Lincoln's funeral almost 100 years earlier.  The effect was monumental.  Kennedy's funeral will always be remembered as a dignified, iconic moment in our nation's history.

As Jackie Kennedy prepared to bury the 35th President, Lyndon Johnson consumed himself with becoming the 36th President, continuing Kennedy's work and leading the nation through the darkness of the assassination and its aftermath.  When Air Force One landed at Andrews Air Force Base on the night of November 22nd, the Secret Service urged now-President Johnson to take a helicopter directly to the White House.  Johnson immediately vetoed the move as he thought it would disrespectful for him to land on the South Lawn of the White House (as Presidents regularly do) while Kennedy's family still lived in the building.  When LBJ arrived at the White House via motorcade to begin his work that night, the new President went directly to an office in the Old Executive Office Building rather than working out of the Oval Office.

Over the next few weeks, President Johnson extended many kindnesses to Jackie Kennedy.  LBJ and Jackie had always had an extremely close relationship, and Johnson never forgot how kind Jackie had been when LBJ was Vice President -- a depressing time for Johnson due to his lack of power and influence.  During his Vice Presidency, Johnson had experienced many problems with members of Kennedy's Administration, but was always treated very well by President and Mrs. Kennedy. 

The Kennedys had two young children who had just lost their father, and the first thing that LBJ did as President was write two letters to President Kennedy's children to read when they were old enough to understand them.  When JFK was elected President, the Kennedys hoped that their daughter Caroline would be able to attend a normal school with children her age.  When it became apparent that the logistics wouldn't allow that, a room was prepared at the White House for Caroline's teacher to hold class daily.  When JFK was assassinated, LBJ insisted that Caroline's class continue using the White House for classes as long as Jackie wished.  In fact, LBJ urged Jackie to continue living in the White House throughout the entirety of his term.  Jackie moved out within a few weeks, but she appreciated President Johnson's offer.

What Jackie Kennedy most appreciated, however, was President Johnson's presence at John F. Kennedy's funeral.  On November 25, 1963, the entire nation stopped and world leaders gathered in Washington to bury the slain President (one place that the nation didn't stop was Dallas, where JFK's assassin Lee Harvey Oswald was shot and killed as he was being transferred to another police facility).  Kennedy's funeral was historic and emotional.  The enduring image is of John F. Kennedy, Jr. -- celebrating his 3rd birthday on that very day -- stepping forward to salute as father's flag-draped casket passed by.

Another stirring image from that day was accompanying President Kennedy's funeral cortége.  As Kennedy's casket rested on the exact same caisson that carried Abraham Lincoln's casket, a remarkable procession of some of the most famous, powerful people in the world followed behind it.  Led by Jackie Kennedy and the slain Presidents two brothers, Robert F. Kennedy and Edward Kennedy, scores and scores of political leaders, diplomats, monarchs, and more trailed the casket, marching in complete silence other than the sounds of their feet on the pavement.  Dozens upon dozens of countries were represented -- not just by ambassadors or minor officials, but by Kings, Queens, Emperors, Presidents, and Prime Ministers.  When one looks at the photos, our eyes are immediately drawn to the majestic strength of Jackie Kennedy leading the procession.  If the faces of those behind her are scanned, they reveal legendary leaders such as Charles de Galle, Haile Selassie, U Thant, Golda Meier, King Baudoiun I, Lester Pearson, Willy Brandt, Queen Frederica, Eamon de Valera, Prince Philip, Sir Alec Douglas-Home, and scores of other international figures, not to mention the leading Americans, who took to the streets of Washington, D.C. -- on foot -- to honor President Kennedy.

It's often forgotten that Lyndon Johnson was there.  Johnson was such a larger-than-life character and so rarely relegated to the background that it's difficult to imagine a scene where he would not be the major player.  Since President Kennedy had been murdered in broad daylight on the streets of a major American city just three days earlier, the Secret Service -- understandably nervous due to their failure to protect one President that week -- was adamantly opposed to President Johnson's participation.  Johnson overruled the Secret Service concerns and turned down their insistence that he ride in an armor-plated limousine.  For maybe the only time in his life, Lyndon Johnson -- now President of the United States -- went virtually unnoticed to the public.

Yet, one person did notice.  And, on November 26, 1963, despite all that she had been through; despite all that she was feeling; despite all that she had lost; despite the fact that just 24 hours earlier she had buried her husband, the father of her two young children, the 34-year-old widowed former First Lady Jacqueline Bouvier Kennedy sat down in the White House and wrote this letter to the new President of the United States, Lyndon Baines Johnson:

November 26 Tuesday Dear Mr. President, Thank you for walking yesterday - behind Jack.  You did not have to do that - I am sure many people forbid you to take such a risk - but you did it anyway.  Thank you for your letters to my children.  What those letters will mean to them later - you can imagine.  The touching thing is, they have always loved you so much, they were most moved to have a letter from you now. And most of all, Mr. President, thank you for the way you have always treated me - the way you and Lady Bird have always been to me - before, when Jack was alive, and now as President. I think the relationship of the Presidential and Vice-Presidential families could be a rather strained one.  From the history I have been reading ever since I came to the White House, I gather it often was in the past. But you were Jack's right arm - and I always thought the greatest act of a gentleman that I had seen on this earth - was how you - the Majority Leader when he came to the Senate as just another little freshman who looked up to you and took orders from you, could then serve as Vice President to a man who had served under you and been taught by you. But more than that we were friends, all four of us.  All you did for me as a friend and the happy times we had.  I always thought way before the nomination that Lady Bird should be First Lady - but I don't need to tell you here what I think of her qualities - her extraordinary grace of character - her willingness to assume ever burden - She assumed so many for me and I love her very much - and I love your two daughters - Lynda Bird most because I know her the best - and we first met when neither of us could get a seat to hear President Eisenhower's State of the Union message, and someone found us a place on one of the steps on the aisle where we sat together.  If we had known then what our relationship would be now. It was so strange - last night I was wandering through this house.  There in the Treaty Room is your chandelier, and I had framed - the page we all signed - you - Senator Dirksen and Mike Mansfield - underneath I had written "The day the Vice President brought the East Room chandelier back from the Capitol." Then in the library I showed Bobby the Lincoln Record book you gave - you see all you gave - and now you are called on to give so much more. Your office - you are the first President to sit in it as it looks today.  Jack always wanted a red rug - and I had curtains designed for it that I thought were as dignified as they should be for a President's office. Late last night a moving man asked me if I wanted Jack's ship pictures left on the wall for you (They were clearing the office to make room for you) - I said no because I remembered all the fun Jack had those first days hanging pictures of things he loved, setting out his collection of whales teeth etc. But of course they are there only waiting for you to ask for them if the walls look too bare.  I thought you would want to put things from Texas in it - I pictured some gleaming longhorns - I hope you put them somewhere. It mustn't be very much help to you your first day in office - to hear children on the lawn at recess.  It is just one more example of your kindness that you let them stay - I promise - they will soon be gone - Thank you Mr. President Respectfully Jackie

At the LBJ Library on the campus of the University of Texas in Austin, there are many displays of priceless, historic artifacts that tell the story of the years of Lyndon Johnson, his service to the United States, and the world that he knew.  As you pass through the exhibits, it's difficult not to be astonished, inspired, and touched by what you see around you during your visit.  Many of the things you'll see there will take your breath away, but nothing leaves an impression on your heart and soul like the seven pieces of paper containing these words in Jackie Kennedy's handwriting -- words that somehow convey strength and fragility, evoke optimism and sadness, and simultaneously project support while demonstrating a sense of loss that very few of us can imagine.  Items like these are the source materials for what history truly is -- a biography of humanity, a story about people.

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