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Cha Eun-woo capa Esquire maio 2024 - 01/05/24

Cha Eun Woo / Dior Men

Instagram @eunwo.o_c @esquire.korea @Dior @MrKimJones. É uma capa para desfrutar o magnífico conjunto Cha Eunwoo e Dior Men quão impressionante eles são. Aqui está a capa da mudança. Você pode ver o conjunto robusto de Cha Eunwoo e Dior Men através dele. Cuidado! É de tirar o fôlego. Outra capa de Cha Eunwoo com Dior Men. Temos esse luxo na foto. @Eunwo.o_c @Dior @MrKimJones #ChaEunWoo #Dior #DiorMen Fall #DiorGravity #차은우 #디올 #디올맨 #ESQUIRE_E_ISSUE #에스콰이어디지털커버 #

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"About Shorty" Esquire, January 1950 Illustration by H. E. Bischoff

[forbilllie]

ESQUIRE korea 241017 twitter update 📸

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[fyexo]

[wewerealwaysthere]

Magazine cartoon gag by E. Simms Campbell. His illustrations were published in Esquire Magazine for 25 years (1933-1958). It’s worth noting that Campbell was African American working in a largely white profession.

[saltburnupdates]

Everything is different about Barry Keoghan. The way his face contorts ever so slightly to show you mischief or madness or melancholy, or maybe all three at once. The way he can take the piss out of people. The way he can take the piss out of himself. Whatever it is, it has to be something, because people—directors, other actors, movie audiences, awards voters—love him. He is the current Joker in the Batman movie franchise. He is a member of the Marvel universe (with Eternals). He’s in a new World War II miniseries produced by Spielberg and Hanks. And in Saltburn, the new film from writer- director Emerald Fennell (Promising Young Woman), he appears in every frame and gives a performance that will go down in movie history as the one that made Barry Keoghan a star.

Esquire Magazine. BARRY KEOGHAN IS DIFFERENT IN EVERY WAY.

[kiofkissy]

240731 ESQUIRE Korea's Twitter Post

esquirekr: 키스오브라이프 화보를 추가 공개합니다. 보고 있어도 자꾸 더 보고 싶어지는 B컷 모음을 지금 바로 확인하세요!

[exoplanetupdates-blog]

Esquire Korea 2023 E Issue - SEHUN

Greeting Video

Fashion Film

Moving Cover

Behind the Scenes (with Chanyeol)

[ria-coolgirl]

Awesome 🤩

Bill & Ted go to Chuck E. Cheese I guess

[alwayslurkinginthebackground]

Get in the Truck - A Pedrotober Drabble

Day Five of Pedrotober: Esquire Outtakes Pedrotober hosted by @norththelemon and @alyssamariag. View the full prompt list HERE and view my entire Pedrotober drabble catalog HERE.

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Rating: E because this is mostly just filth. With a hint of angst. I can't not write angst apparently. Unprotected p in v, oral, they fuck in a truck here, y'all. Honestly probably could have made it hornier but I had to go touch grass after writing it.

Word Count: 1324

a/n: WHEW It's been 8 million years since I last wrote smut but this Esquire outtake would not let me rest until Joel was written into it. This one is dedicated to the wives of Joel Miller. You know who you are. <3

"Get in the damn truck."

You cross your arms in refusal, standing your ground as Joel glares daggers at you, one arm slung over the side of the truck bed, the other braced against the open door. You can see the tension in his shoulders, you always can when you fight, but you're not about to give in. Not this time.

"Make me."

"For the love of god, why are you so fucking stubborn?" He walks back toward you, but you're practiced in the art of Joel Miller, and you don't move a muscle even when he's right in front of you. His broad frame towers over your much smaller one. "Get. In. The. Damn. Truck." he grits out again, teeth clenched.

He'd called you stubborn, but truthfully you'd learned from the best. "I'm not getting in that truck until you tell me what the fuck we're doing." His expression shifts to something unreadable, just for a moment, but you catch it, the way the pain flashes behind his eyes.

"LET'S GO!" Ellie interrupts as she plows into the garage with her backpack in tow, hopping in the front seat and shattering the tension between you and Joel. He holds his position for a moment and then you both resign to the excitement of the young girl left in your charge. Joel opens the back door so you can slide onto the bench seat. You ignore him as you slip in.

"Get in the damn truck."

His voice is as rough now as it was the first time, even when it sounds as a harsh whisper against your ear. Your gaze flickers to Ellie's sleeping form on the other side of the smoldering fire, and when you look back at where he'd been just a moment ago, you realize he's already halfway to the truck.

He's opened the door to the backseat by the time you catch up to him and you slip inside, the space becoming crowded the moment he joins you. "What the fuck are we doing, Joel" you ask him again once the door is closed, but he leaves you in an odd silence that feels suffocating.

"We're taking her to Tommy," he returns as though it's the simplest of tasks. As if crossing the country would be easy without the presence of infected and raiders and FEDRA in every major city across what used to be called a country. As if he has any idea of where his brother actually is.

"And you just expect me to be okay with this? With risking my life to go on this wild goose chase?" you inquire, your voice quickly rising in volume and intensity. "Joel, you know how often people talk about a cure. It never pans out. What if we do all of this, put our lives at risk, put her life at risk, only for it to be for nothing anyway?"

"We don't know that," he insists. "We owe it to Tess to..."

"Tess is dead, Joel."

Quiet hangs between you, and you wonder why you used to find solace in its intensity before the outbreak. Back when you'd sit in your car before work trying to compose yourself before going in.

"Tess would have wanted us to see this through," he grumbles, the same ache in his voice that you'd heard earlier.

"And she also wouldn't have wanted us to die trying."

You sit in silence again, and you can't tell if he's being stubborn or if he's actually contemplating your point.

"Tommy, then? Think this is the way to find him?" You wince at the sound of your own voice, aware of how much his brother's disappearance has hurt him. Made him feel so undeniably unworthy of any kind of love.

"Fuck no," is his response, followed by a low growl. His hands find your waist in a grip that makes you want to wince and pull away. But you can't. Not now. Not when you can already feel the heat pooling between your legs.

"Then what is it?" There's a sense of finality to your tone. An unspoken ultimatum stands as the only barrier left between you. He has to tell you or this is as far as you'll go. There will be no more getting in the truck. No more protecting the girl. No more of whatever the relationship you two share is. "Joel?" you ask again.

Instead of an answer, his lips are on yours as he shifts you back against the passenger side door. Your hands are collected in one of his calloused palms as he pins them above your head, the glass of the window cool against your skin. Your mind screams at you to stop him, to remind him that this isn't why you're here, but your body disagrees.

This is exactly why you're here.

It's already hot in the truck despite the chill in the air outside, and your mind flashes to your high school boyfriend and the shit job he'd done of getting you off in the back seat of a truck not unlike this one. You're thrust back to the reality of something much better as Joel works his way down your jaw, chapped lips against smooth skin. You struggle against his grip, a silent request for him to let your hands roam his body the way you want them to.

He refuses, instead guiding your hands to the headrests on either side of your shoulders. "Don't move them," he instructs, and you can do nothing but obey.

Your mind is fuzzy as you struggle to remember why you were angry with him in the first place. It's hard to recall when he's between your legs, dragging your jeans down your thighs. Impossible to remember when he's there, fingers pressed against your center, gathering the slick and pressing inside. A distant memory when he drops down to eat you out like it's what he needs to survive.

And maybe, you consider for a moment, it is.

His name falls from your lips again when you come, dulled by the sound of your heart beating in your ears. Your shoulders scream in pain from the awkward angle and the way the door handle presses into your back, but you can only focus on the way his tongue continues to circle your clit.

He laps at you until your hand falls from where he'd placed it to push him away from your overstimulated body. It's dark in the truck, but you can feel his eyes on you when you realize your mistake.

"I told you not to move."

Joel hauls you against him, your knees digging into the worn seat on either side of his hips as he forces your hands on the headrest behind him. "Keep them there." This time, you follow his order, even as he lifts you just enough to pull his cock from his jeans so you can sink down onto him, your body shuddering as he fills you.

"Please," you whisper, your head falling to his shoulder as his hands sit firm on your hips, preventing you from moving the way you want to. He holds you there, stretching you until you feel like you've forgotten everything. Forgotten why you were mad, what you were doing, where you were going.

Why you were going.

"I need you," he grunts out, one hand slipping between you to rest against your stomach. "I need you here." He presses his hand against you and your fingers dig into the headrest behind him, nails biting the fabric as you feel him filling you. "Do you feel that? Here."

And you do. you finally understand. It doesn't matter why or how or where or when. You'd do anything for him if it meant you got to feel this. He might be willing to risk his life for a lost cause, but you'd simply be willing to risk your life for his.

[cherryblogss]

cherryblogs não sei se você ainda tá de mal com o enzo massss pensei em um cenário bobinho aqui,,,

tinha visto numa entrevista da esquire q ele trabalhou por um tempo com computadores e entende bem do assunto e eu como uma grande apreciadora de nerds imaginei ele explicando altos assuntos tecnológicos sendo o grande pequeno homem inteligente q ele eh e a reader não entendendo nada mas amando cada segundo

ele realmente ama garota de programa então né ❤️ perdão pela piada nao me aguentei. omg eu nao sabia desse fato! é engraçado demais pq eu sou nerd🤓☝🏻 e foi meio esquisito escrever isso pq é oq eu estudo e ficou meio merda😪me perdoem pelas explicações bosta, eu sou tenebrosa pra ensinar as coisas.

aqui vou colocar um enzo mais novinho😇

Você bufa pela terceira vez, entediada na cama do seu namorado que estava com a cara concentrada enfiada no computador e os dedos grandes teclando intensamente junto com o clique incessante do mouse. Já fazia duas horas que ele não tirava os olhos da tela, totalmente focado em qualquer trabalho extremamente complicado que você não entendia nada quando olhava para a tela. Ao te escutar grunhir e se revirar inquieta na cama, Enzo se vira com um sorrisinho de lado para te encarar.

"Que foi, bebita?" Ele pergunta penteando os cabelos sedosos para longe do próprio rosto.

"Tô entediada, Enzo." Responde aborrecida e com um biquinho no lábios.

"Desculpa, linda." Ele fala depois de suspirar, se levantando e indo até você para distribuir beijinhos pela sua face emburrada. "Eu tenho que apresentar isso segunda e ainda nem fiz a metade." Se justifica com um ar cansado e com a proximidade te possibilitando ver cada detalhe do rosto atraente, mas também nota como as olheiras e exaustão pesavam o olhar do uruguaio. Mesmo assim, seu coração errava batidas com a beleza surreal do seu namorado.

"Tô te atrapalhando?" Pergunta tímida, movendo as mãos para acariciar a pele bronzeada do rosto dele. Enquanto isso, os braços musculosos de Enzo circulam sua cintura em um aperto carinhoso.

"Nunca, bebê. Pelo contrário, você me relaxa." Ele responde sorrindo e exibindo as covinhas charmosas. Em seguida, se inclina para dar um beijo demorado nos seus lábios e por um minuto te distraindo com a deliciosa sensação da boca carnuda sobre a sua.

"Tem certeza? Não posso evitar pensar nisso quando fico parada aqui fazendo nada." Fala ofegante assim que se afastam e Enzo roça a ponta do nariz avantajado na ponta do seu amorosamente. "Precisa de ajuda com algo?"

"Posso tentar te explicar, hm? O que acha do professor Enzo?" Pergunta rindo junto contigo com a imagem dele sendo um professor. Até que não era tão ruim...

"Pode ser. Adoro escutar sua voz."

Prontamente, o moreno pega sua mão para te puxar em direção a cadeira dele e te colocando no próprio colo. Você se aconchega no corpo másculo, com a cabeça no ombro torneado com os olhos para a tela repleta de linhas de códigos em várias cores.

"Isso aqui é um código básico de como se fosse uma locadora, sabe? Igual aquelas antigas onde você ia lá emprestava o filme ou não emprestava quando tava alugado já. Entendeu mais ou menos, né?" Ele pergunta ao mesmo tempo que passa um braço pela sua cintura, te puxando para mais perto e com a outra segurando o mouse para navegar entre as abas abertas no editor de códigos.

"Eu não sou tão mais nova que você, Enzo, eu sei o que é uma locadora." Responde revirando os olhos e brincando com um dos aneis da mão que te acariciava.

"Eu sei, fofinha, só queria te explicar melhor." Ele fala sorrindo travesso, fazendo cócegas na sua cintura arrancando um risinho seu. "Eu falo isso, porque aqui ó, tem um problema comum em todo tipo de sistema, como por exemplo cadastros, reservas, exclusão e redundâncias, então o meu trabalho é tentar diminuir isso, até porque economiza memória e ganho velocidade de execução." Seu corpo relaxava mais a cada palavra dele que tão eloquente conseguia te enfeitiçar tão fácil quando como estava te fazendo juras de amor.

"Aí, eu uso construtores, que me permitem referenciar e meio que modificar uma classe, assim criando outros elementos dentro dela, o que é chamado de instância." Ele continua explicando te deixando bobinha ao distanciar os olhos da tela para acompanhar o rosto sério do mais velho. "Contrutores são elementos da programação que você pode fazer pra incrementar uma variável, ou seja, existem vários filmes e pra não ficar repetindo várias vezes a mesma coisa, eu instâncio ele, entende? Crio um bloco de código que vai receber vários atributos para a variável filme. Alguma pergunta? Não sei se sou bom explicando."

"Mas o que são atributos?" Pergunta em uma voz hesitante tentando fingir que estava acompanhando o assunto e não só a voz grossa te explicando algo que você não entenderia nunca.

Enzo parece se animar com a sua pergunta, gesticulando com a mão animadamente enquanto volta a falar.

"Atributos são características de um objeto, que em programação significa algo do mundo real que colocamos em código. Por exemplo, você é uma pessoa que tem características, sendo elas, nome, idade, números. AÍ, eu coloco esses elemento dentro de uma classe, que armazena todos esses dados relacionados..."

Sua mente já estava viajando novamente, completamente vazia de qualquer pensamento sem ser a inteligência do seu namorado, além de estranhamente excitada com a forma gostosa que Enzo entoava cada frase, gesticulando e com o peito vibrando cada vez que falava algo com uma pronúncia mais rebuscada.

"Você tá me escutando?" Ele pergunta encarando seu rosto que fitava diretamente o dele ao invés da tela.

"Hm?" Pergunta desnorteada e com o rosto quente por ter sido pega no flagra.

"Que foi, princesa? Ta muito monótono e confuso?" Ele pergunta analisando atentamente sua expressão.

"Não! É que eu me distraí..." Fala com a voz vacilando e apertando as coxas para conter o formigamento no meio das suas pernas.

"Se distraiu com o que?" Ele pergunta com um sorriso perverso quando percebe o que realmente você sentia no momento. As mãos grandes agora apertando a suas coxas em uma provocação indiscreta. "Acho que nós dois precisamos relaxar um pouco, sabe? Clarear a mente." Continua a falar abaixando o tom de voz e a cabeça para distribuir beijos e chupões no seu pescoço. "E eu tenho em mente a atividade ideal pra fazer isso." Finaliza subindo a mão pela sua coxa até enfiá-la em baixo da sua saia e roçando com a ponta dos dedos o seu pontinho pulsante.

imaginei ele assim vey ai aquela voz falando coisas inteligentes... kill me now

[daily-twice-content]

[fyexo]

[aedesluminis]

Did Prieur Claude Antoine really have a daughter with Madame Vêtu in 1788 (or is it just a strong possibility)?

Whether Prieur had a daughter with Catherine-Elisabeth Vétu, born Joly, is something we can never know for sure, unless we go back in time and ask them. However, according to both Paul Arbelet and Georges Bouchard, who had the chance of having access to Prieur's complete collection of personal papers, there's strong evidence that the latter might have truly been the biological father of Madame Vétu's last child.

Before delving into the matter, allow me a little digression on how Prieur and Catherine came to know each other.

The two met in 1785, when he was 22 and she was 29; yes, she was seven years older than him! The former moved to Dijon both for military duty and to assist Louis-Bernard Guyton in his scientific works. The young officer needed a place to stay and one of the rooms of the Vétu family house revealed itself to be the most suitable for him. Bouchard guessed that the two might have become close very soon, allowing Prieur to eat and sleep there for free since his low salary at the time wouldn't have allowed him to always pay the rent. (1)

Not a far-fetched speculation, considering Catherine’s lively character and active participation in the management of her husband's grocery store; at that time managing a business implied a minimum of education and both a strong dedication and commitment to work; qualities that Prieur appreciated and admired in a person. On the other hand, Catherine, despite the age gap, must have been impressed by Prieur's reserved, hardworking character and polite manners, something that her husband seemed to be lacking. (2)

In 1785 Catherine already had two children, Pierre, 9 years old and Bernard, 7 years old; three years later, her last one, Claudine was born. Prieur was chosen as godfather, or offered to be.

Here's the child's baptism certificate I managed to find in the Cote-d'Or archives:

[Source: Archives de la Côte-d'Or, Registres paroissiaux et état civil, XVIe siècle-1938 (sous-série 2 E). Collection communale 1579-1792, Toutes paroisses, FRAD021EC 239/095, Vues 0252-0317 : Paroisse Saint-Jean, Baptêmes et Mariages, janvier 1788-décembre 1788, vue 279]

Claudine-Denise, fille du Sr Joseph Vétu, marchand épicier et demoiselle Catherine Joly son épouse, est venue au monde et a été baptisée ce jourd'hui 2 mai 1788, son parrain, M. Claude-Antoine Prieur Duvernoy, écuyer, officier au corps royal du génie, représenté par le Sr Jean-François Boiteux, épicier, et sa marraine, dame Claudine-Denise Couturier, veuve du sieur Bernard Joly, son aïeule maternelle. (3)

EN: Claudine-Denise, daughter of Joseph Vétu, grocery merchant and of Catherine Joly, his spouse, was born and baptized on this day 2 May 1788, her godfather being M. Claude-Antoine Prieur Duvernoy, esquire, officier in the Corps Royal du Génie, represented by Sr. Jean-François Boiteux, grocer, and her godmother dame Claudine-Denise Couturier, widow of Monsieur Bernard Joly, her maternal grandmother.

As mentioned before, the supposition that Claude-Antoine might have been more than a simple godfather stems from some facts that for Arbelet and Bouchard are pretty emblematic: In Prieur's personal notes, there's a date written down by him and another one right next to it, which not only corresponds to Claudine's birthday, but it's curiously nine months distant from the first date. I’m not an expert on 18th century customs, but it’s not unlikely that men wrote down the date in which they had intercourses with a woman to know if they were the father of the child that might have later been born. When Claudine was 17, Prieur arranged a marriage between her and a friend of his, Drappier, to whom he later associated the business the former was running at the time; at the time these engagements for a girl were her father’s or her guardian’s duty. When Prieur wrote his testament, he left quite a sum of francs to Claudine's son as inheritance and lastly, there's also a letter from an old garrison fellow of Prieur, in which there's written "I wish good morning to you and your women". (4)

I’d like also to add that from the bits of their correspondence shared by Bouchard and the overall treatment Prieur reserved for her throughout her life, the two seemed to be pretty close, linked by an intimacy that goes beyond the one between a woman and an old family friend. He was always there for her, sent her various gifts and helped her financially. In my opinion, this further confirms the hypothesis that Claudine was his real daughter.

References

Why did he never adopt her, not even after Joseph Vétu’s death? It’s a question that those who wrote about Prieur never asked themselves, but that I personally wonder. The only thing I can think of right now, given my limited knowledge, is that he didn’t want to give her his surname and cause her to be persecuted. Despite never being the target of slander, he had been part of the revolutionary government responsible for the Terror and not a normal one, but a member of the “bloodthirsty Committee of Public Safety of Year II”: so was the view of the Great CSP during the Napoleonic Era and Restoration.

It’s Prieur himself that in a letter dated 1814 to General Marescot reveals he resigned from public life at the beginning of the century because he foresaw the persecution the members of the government prior to the Consulate would have endured. (5) If he had had a concern for his daughter, it would have been a legitimate one: Sadi Carnot couldn’t advance in the army, despite deserving it, and was denied some positions, because of the surname he bore.

G. Bouchard, Prieur de la Côte-d’Or, 1946, p. 54-58.

P. Arbelet, La jeunesse de Prieur de la Côte-d’Or, Revue du dix-huitième siècle, 1916, p. 38-51

Notes

On page 56 of Prieur’s biography, Bouchard affirms with confidence that the date of Thursday 1 December 1785 which Prieur wrote in his “Tableau du temps... depuis 1782 jusqu'en 1792.” - a sort of list of the main events of his life - corresponds to the latter’s unofficial engagement with Catherine. Considering that Prieur arrived in Dijon in August, it means it took them four months to fall in love with each other. Though, except for a vague remark on “a certain number of coincidences that would be too long to report”, Bouchard doesn’t explain in specific how he got to that conclusion.

From some letters and papers that Prieur kept, Joseph Vétu appeared as a “lousy and insignificant man” (G. Bouchard, p. 56).

Transcription by Bouchard (p. 58 of his biography)

Letter from Andréossy to Prieur (G. Bouchard, p. 361).

Letter to Marescot of 18 April 1814 (G. Bouchard, p.380-381).

[sehunlyone]

Sehun for Esquire E Issue