[ultraviolentblues]

──── give me all of that ultraviolence.

abby. twenty. jack kennedys real wife. lana del rey. taylor swift. kennedy encyclopedia. thought daughter. ralph lauren. blue hydrangeas. audrey hepburn. vintage chanel. pretty when i cry.

I’M CHURNING OUT NOVELS LIKE BEAT POETRY ON AMPHETAMINES ! masterlist.

[ultraviolentblues]

a very happy birthday to miss jackie on what would’ve been her 97th.

[melancholicstation]

6am to 6pm in the life of JFK's first lady!reader

tags: @rocker-chick-7 @ultr4v1ol3nt @kimcrystal123 @remotewatch @h-l-v-kennedy-blog @h-l-vlovesvintage @strryhaze @unmarlou @fortheloveofjos @bluelancergirl @strip-weather-forecast @darcyspirits @snowsgames @dulcegal @kennedyism @stargiirl27 @absurdlyvintage @jackiesgirl @bluevelvetsunset @recentremreports

authors note: i am just now realising that this a lot more about bobby than it is jack 😭😭. my bobby bias strikes again I suppose! nevertheless i hope this satisfies the limited amount of people who even still care for my writing! this is not proof read so im crossing my fingers that it's legible. summa: following the birth of her second baby, a 6 pound and 14 ounces baby boy to be exact, the first lady is staying at her brother in laws six-room pied-a-terre on the 14th floor. read below to be a voyeur in her life from the hours of 6am to 6pm

December 16th, New York City (1962)

5:00am:

first lady!reader wakes in a donald judd plywood bed to the click of a mortise lock disengaging and the soft coos of a newborn babe. bobby's has taken fantastically to the role of self appointed night nurse. per jack's request it was decided that the first lady would depart the peoples house and join her brother-in-law at his new york residence to spend the last remnants of her 'maternity leave' before the new year rears it's ugly, tiring head. as custom she feeds the weary eyed boy in her arms. arms that are still slightly ruddy and freckled by the sun from her and jack's baby moon trip to the baja california peninsula.

bobby leaves soon after passing the boy to reader for the sake of his sister-in-laws privacy, but not before subtly presenting a glass (1, 2) of chilled water and a plate of fruit (1) he got an assistant to acquire from the amish market on 45th street but went to a personal effort to cut the provisions up into bit sized chunks while playing catch up on memos.

reader finishes up after about thirty minutes leaving an empty plate and glass, and a very full and happy baby. she calls bobby back in to take the baby who smells like honeysuckle and sandalwood (hermés' cabriole scent). but not before asking whether jack has called, since she knows for a fact he can't sleep past 4:45am. bobby shakes his head solemnly, and then if deciding what to do next, strides the length of the room back towards the bed and kisses reader on the patch of above her right temple.

thereafter, he exits the guest room. she closes her eyes.

7:00am:

reader wakes for the second time of the morning and pads from the guest room to the living room, a room outfitted with the apropos brands: knoll, knoll textiles, vitra, herman miller, and cassina. bobby has left a note on a post-it stating he's "left for a string of meetings, i will join you at 5 -Bob".

i imagine the apartment to look similar to these images in vibe:

checking the time on the clock on the living room wall, she writes a short letter to jack detailing the new milestone their son has reached despite being away from jack for only a matter of days (he can now smile!). while doing so, breakfast is prepared by a private staff member named pete. breakfast consists of a piece of bread (1, 2), a boiled egg, and a pot of black coffee (1, 2, 3, 4).

being three months postpartum reader chooses light, crepe dresses (1, 2, 3, 4, 5), and cotton fabrics (1, 2) that skim the body such as these:

10:00am:

baby wakes up from his nap just as first lady!reader is set to take a relaxing bath. instead of engaging the nanny, she takes her baby into the bath with here. they both have a bounty of fun as evidenced by the floor covered in water, with the only relaxing element remaining being the hurricane lamp (1) softly illuminating the bathroom.

12:00pm:

jack writes back around lunchtime while reader busies herself by taking the baby out to the peter detmold park dressed in anti-pap attire (an hermés silk scarf, akris double faced cashmere coat, and a pair of celine disc glasses):

"That is terrific news about our dear boy, i always knew he would be an overachiever it must be in the blood. i won't be able to write back anymore today as i'm tied up in the office but do not let this discourage you from writing again today, i long for your voice even if only through your terrific handwriting. take refuge in the knowledge that i won't rest until i can come to New York next week and steal you back from Bob. He's had enough fun.

-Love, Your Jack."

1:00pm:

after the traversing 51st street, she enters the UN plaza through the double doors and is met with the emblematic red carpet donning the lobby alongside it's twenty-four hour reception desk, concierge, and doormen (1). the cook whips up a cobb salad (a recipe which came straight from the cooks at the carlyle) in a crystal salad bowl by lobmeyr, alongside a tumbler of warm milk (1, 2).

4:00pm:

she gets one of bobby's assistants stationed at the new york residence to call down to the concierge desk to set up a last minute home appointment with the hairstylist guido palau.

first lady!reader gets her hair washed, trimmed, scalp exfoliated, and well coiffed into any one of these three hairstyles:

she remembers how jack once washed her hair during a vacation to camp david. a stay in which they had relinquished majority of their staff for the week in order to establish a pseudo sense of normalcy. they gone out to a particularly exhilarating yet exhausting soiree at a compound in emmitsburg belonging to a socialite and her oil heir husband. it had been great fun but left the first lady particularly fatigued. so fatigued that jack elected to wash her hair himself, sensing her trepidation at the end of the evening.

first lady!reader returns the favor the next morning, by taking it upon herself to do his shaving routine upon his lap—his most favourite place for her to be of course:

5:00pm:

bobby returns home when he said so, to the minute (a trait he so possesses unlike his brother counterpart). reader and bobby sit side by side in matching billy baldwin club studio chair's (1) alongside tv trays (1) with meals meticulously cooked by the staff. the pair bicker about the socio-political and economic issues of the week, talk about how well jack is doing, how utterly busy at all hours of the day, week, month.

skirting around the enormous steiff elephant (a sweet yet untimely gift from jack's father and mother) in the room is a talent well practiced balancing act for the first lady and the attorney general. they both have devoted their lives to a singular, flawed man who's successes and indiscretions reflect onto them in equal parts. perhaps that's why they get along so well!

perhaps that's why jack, after retiring to the living quarters after a hard days of work, suddenly feels the urge to collect his wife and baby son at an earlier date than expected back where they belong ... right beside him and in the white house.

BONUS! first lady!reader and jack as tweets:

[ultraviolentblues]

[ultraviolentblues]

attorney general robert f. kennedy on a 1962 goodwill trip to bali, indonesia. a local girl is shown pinning a gold leaf on his collar as part of a traditional welcome ceremony.

[lancer-andlace]

Jackie and Caroline - 1962

[ultraviolentblues]

masterlist.

john f. kennedy

backseat secrets what happens in the backseat stays in the backseat.

robert f. kennedy

bobby doesn't like your dirty mouth.

[jfkology]

[californiastrs]

HAIR

[ultraviolentblues]

husband!bobby doesn't like your dirty mouth.

notes. i can't stop thinking about this man. sorry jack, i think my frontal lobe is developing.

bobby doesn't like to spank you. in fact, before meeting you, the thought of doing such a thing had never once crossed his mind — not with any of his previous lovers. but you’re endless provoking pushes him past the point of any other effective solution. 

he’s tried other things, but none of them are quite as effective as literally knocking some sense back into you. and although he doesn’t like it, he gets some kind of depraved pleasure from disciplining you in such a way. whether you're giving him an insolent attitude, doing something he explicitly told you not to, or something that especially irks him, swearing, bobby has absolutely no problem taking you over his knee, flipping up your skirt, and whacking at your ass until it’s bright red.  

and despite years spent at catholic school, where swearing was strictly prohibited and would result in an immediate strike across the knuckles, there are a few occasions where an expletive forcefully falls from your lips. burning your hand on the stove, missing your exit on the highway, or when your husband is thrusting into you, hitting the spongy spot inside of you that you didn’t know existed before meeting him.

your hands and knees are digging into the plush comforter as bobby quickens his pace from behind you, his hands tightening their grip on the plush skin of your hips. you let your head fall onto your clasped hands, held together tightly like they are every night before you get into bed. 

it comes out after a particularly hard thrust. a soft ‘fuck’ that’s partly muffled by the comforter, but it doesn’t escape the ears of your husband. his hand cracks down onto your ass without a missing beat, like he was waiting for you to slip up. the smack sends a jolt up and down your body, your back arching slightly, daring him to do it again. “language,” he chastises you in his tone that makes you want to hide inside yourself, but also makes you impossibly slicker around his cock. you whine, which is also partially muffled, and it earns you little sympathy. 

the hand that dealt the blow is cradling your reddened behind with a stark softness, thumb rubbing back and forth like it can possibly soothe the sweltering skin. his other hand comes up to your neck, lifting your face from your drool-covered hands and the subsequently dampening comforter, holding it with more forcefulness than just a gentle cradle. 

suddenly, you feel the unmistakable tickle of his chest hair against your back. it’s slick with sweat, and probably slightly matted down with dampness. you try to turn your head, to see him, but his grip on your neck tightens, holding you in place.

his breath is hot against the back of your skull, coming out in hard puffs of exertion as he continues his relentless pace. both of your thighs are now drenched with your wetness, the smacking of your skin echoing shamefully throughout the room. his thumb snakes its way up from your neck to your bottom lip, dragging it down until he feels the silky inside. “don’t make me wash out this mouth.” 

whether that’s a threat or a promise, you wouldn’t object either way. 

[indulginginterests]

Bobby with his dog Freckles during the 1968 Presidential Campaign

[melodramas]

sabrina carpenter in a custom dior dress at the met gala, paying homage to audrey hepburns’s film sabrina (1954) with rhinestoned film strips

[thekennedyclan]

President John F. Kennedy and first lady Jacqueline Kennedy depart Bogota, Colombia

[jacquelinesfilms]

they look so good omg

[jfknlace]

Senator John F. Kennedy and Jacqueline Kennedy stop for a drink on the campaign trail at a small coffee shop in Ashland, Wisconsin, 1960

[dreamofstarlight]

[joansiesbeloved]

rest in peace to the courageous and talented tatiana schlossberg.

an american journalist and author, a daughter of caroline kennedy and edwin schlossberg, and a granddaughter of john f. kennedy and jackie kennedy. she is survived by her family <3

(may 5th, 1990 - december 30th, 2025) 🤍🩹

[lancer-andlace]

Jack and Jackie by the White House Christmas Tree

[gatabella]

Audrey Hepburn by Mark Shaw, 1953