#Production Part Approval Process

[careereducationsuccessnow]

Take a look at this post… 'What's Production Part Approval Process (PPAP) and What specific challenges does Elements of PPAP address? '.

http://careereducationsuccessnow.blogspot.com/2024/05/whats-production-part-approval-process.html

[imrovementcompany]

Ensuring Quality in the Automotive Industry with PPAP

The Production Part Approval Process (PPAP) is used in the automotive industry to establish confidence in component suppliers and their production processes. Developed by the Automotive Industry Action Group (AIAG), the PPAP process has become the de facto standard for automotive suppliers. The PPAP process involves five key steps: Design and Development Approval: The supplier must submit the…

[tendebill]

little update for the fella :3

[horse-girl-anthy]

Revolutionary Girl Utena: Gender in Context

beneath the cut, I discuss the RGU's portrayal of gender in the context of 1990s Japan.

in Ikuhara's interview with Mari Kotani, he stated that in traditional Japanese society, "prince" meant "patriarch." the same is true in Western societies--there was a time when a prince would be an heir to a royal line. by 1997, this meaning had died out of large parts of the world. even the association between princes and traditional masculinity was fading. Saionji, the weakest, most pathetic man in the show, is a parody of historical Japanese masculinity, with his kendo and his blatantly regressive beliefs about women.

in RGU, prince may still mean patriarch, but in a far more subtle fashion. Ikuhara and Kotani discussed the changing expectations for men in the latter half of the 20th century--it became gauche to fight over a woman with one's brawn, so instead, power struggles were played out in the arena of looks and sex appeal. one can see this reflected in the character Akio, whose power as a prince arises from his ability to turn "easy sensual pleasure based on dependency" "into a selling point with which to control people."

Akio has his moments of showboating masculinity, but when preying on Utena, he operates by making himself seem non-threatening and soft.

not only that, but he purports to want to allow students to express their individuality and thus approves of Utena's masculine form of dress. this is a front--by the end of the show, he's telling Utena that girls shouldn't wield swords. thus, through Akio's character, the show argues that traditionalist patriarchy in Japan isn't gone, but instead has only been papered over with false progressivism.

with all that said, there seems to be more to the character. he's taken the family name of his fiance, Kanae, and whatever material power he has in the school is dependent upon her family. in Japanese society, this is considered a humiliating position to be in, something that only a shameless man would do. the show never gives the audience any insight into how Akio feels about this--is he unbothered entirely, or are his actions against the Ohtori family an expression of his repressed anger? does he harm the children under his care to compensate for his humiliation?

this aspect of Akio's character may seem irrelevant in light of the larger, immaterial social forces at work in the show. however, I would argue that it was included for a reason. Akio, despite his status as ultimate patriarch of Ohtori, is in fact a highly emasculated character, to the point where lead writer Enokido even said that he is driven by an infantile mother complex.

to explain why Akio was portrayed this way, we have to discuss Japanese history. the nation suffered a major defeat in WWII and was forced to accept whatever terms the United States laid out for it. for an examination of how the Japanese have never truly processed those events and have plunged into modernity with reckless abandon, I recommend Satoshi Kon's Paranoia Agent. to sum it up briefly, in a very short period, the nation regained its economic footing, and by the 1980s had the largest gross national product in the world. this economic boom may have allowed Japan to maintain a sense of sovereignty, dignity, and power, but it was inherently fragile.

the infamous "bubble economy" lasted from 1986 to 1991. during this time, anything seemed possible; financial struggles appeared to be a thing of the past, and capitalist excess reached new heights. the ghosts of this period can be felt across Japanese media; for instance, think of the final shot of Grave of the Fireflies (1998), where the two dead children look down on Kobe, glowing an eerie green to imply its impermanence. the abandoned theme park from Spirited Away (2001) is explicitly referred to as a leftover from the previous century, when many attractions were built and then tossed aside in a few short years.

the bubble popped in 1992, leaving an entire generation feeling cheated. the bright futures they'd been promised, which had actually materialized for their parents and older siblings, had been lost to them overnight. economic crises are often accompanied by gender panics. to quote from Masculinities in Japan, "The recession brought with itself worsening employment conditions, undermining the system of lifelong employment and men’s status of breadwinners in general. The unemployment rate was rising, and although it never reached crisis levels, men could no longer feel safe in their salaryman status. Their situation was further complicated by the rising number of (married) women entering the workforce."

with this in mind, Akio's character can be taken as a representation of masculinity in crisis in 90s Japan. he's forced to rely on women for his position in life and has failed to save his only relative, Anthy. he tries to escape his misery through hedonism, perhaps an allegorical representation of how men tried to maintain their old standard of living after the economic bubble burst.

but of course, Akio is not the main character of RGU--the story is about girls. mangaka Yamada Reiji discussed the series in the context of the 90s, stating the following:

while I opened this essay by discussing the prince, the same points could be made about the princess. despite the increasing irrelevance of royalty, princess is still an important concept. how does it relate to the socioeconomic landscape of the 90s?

in Yamada's view, RGU is full of relics of the 80s; for instance, the figure of the ojou-sama, an entitled young woman who never lifts a finger for herself. during the economic bubble, it was increasingly common for women to be entirely taken care of by the men in their lives. Yamada names Nanami as a clear ojou-sama type character: she weaponizes her femininity, demanding to be rescued, doted on, and served.

however, by 1997, the ojou-sama could no longer expect to get what she wanted. from the 80s to the 90s, the percentage of women in the workforce increased around 15%; it was no longer viable for most women to be "kept" by their families. as the men experienced the humiliation of not being able to provide for their wives and children, women were undergoing a disillusionment of their own.

Yamada blames Disney for creating the ideological structure which led women astray. obviously, the company is known for its films about princes rescuing princesses. in Yamada's recounting, during the 80s, the company was infiltrating Japan through its theme parks as well; across the country, Disneylands were opening up, and people were buying into the escapism the corporation offered. Japan, as America, became a country of eternal children. its people were waiting for a prince to appear and save them.

but fairy tales can't stave off reality forever. Yamada claims that RGU embodies the rage of young women who woke up one day and realized that they had been raised on a lie. this anger pervades the work from beginning to end.

though RGU was created in a particular social context, its lessons can be extrapolated to any time and place. as the first ending tells us:

I hope this essay helped provide more context for the series. thanks for reading!

[munsonsmixtapes]

Better Late Than Never

Eddie x fem!reader

Summary: a bathroom counter make out with your husband, Eddie

word count: 1k

The bathroom counter was cluttered with various makeup products and brushes that you had been using to get ready for the night. You were always so caught up in perfecting your looks that you barely even noticed when you had made such a mess until it was time to clean up. Maybe it was unfair to the person who you shared the bathroom with, but he hardly minded.

Eddie, your husband, was sitting on the counter next to your sink, watching you like he always insisted on doing any time you got ready. He claimed to find the whole process fascinating, loving the techniques you used to apply everything. He was always there to give you feedback and hype you up no matter how crazy or weird of a look you were doing. He was your number one fan no matter what.

You grabbed your eyeliner pencil that had been sitting on the counter next to Eddie and gave him a smile as you did so. The smile was returned, love clear in his eyes. He reached for your hand and brought it up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to it before letting you have it back.

You applied the eyeliner to your upper and lower lash lines then pulled down your bottom lid to line your waterline. Eddie always found that part particularly fascinating; how it always seemed to make the whole thing come together. Especially when it all smudged after a full day of wearing it.

Maybe he liked it so much because he wished he could wear it. He wanted to, and had even wanted to ask you to help him apply it, but he could never get the guts. He had recited his vows to you in front of a whole church full of people, but couldn’t ask for a little liner? Why did it scare him so much?

You turned to him and he hadn’t realized that he had been so close until he noticed that your noses were almost touching. You could see him eyeing the pencil in your hand and knew exactly what he was wanting. You weren’t sure why he wouldn’t just come out and say it. You wouldn't have judged him. In fact, you thought that men wearing eyeliner was hot.

“Do you want some, honey?” You asked, and he just nodded.

“Please?” He asked and you moved to stand in between his legs. He grabbed hold of your waist and you took the eyeliner and slowly lifted it up to his left eye, giving him a chance to back out if he wanted to.

“Close your eyes,” You instructed and he obeyed, closing his eyes. You slowly and gently lined the top lid, rubbing it with your finger to give it the smoky look. You thought that would look the best with his eye shape and color. You then lined the bottom lid, doing the exact same thing before moving to the other eye, trying your best to make them look somewhat even.

“Waterline too?” You asked and he just furrowed his eyebrows. He wasn't up to date on the makeup terminology so he honestly had no idea what you were talking about. “Here,” you pointed to the spot on yourself and he nodded enthusiastically.

You lowered his bottom eyelid and moved as quickly as possible since it was his first time and you knew it could feel uncomfortable. You then lined his other eye then pulled back to examine your work, nodding to yourself in approval. You grabbed your mirror from your makeup bag and handed it to Eddie so he could see for himself before moving out of the way so he could get a better look.

He let out a gasp at his reflection, moving the mirror every which way to see it at different angles, his mouth agape. He couldn’t believe how good he looked, how hot. He knew that you were good at doing makeup, but you had truly outdone yourself. You made him look like the rockstars he had always looked up to, the ones he aspired to be just like. Now that he had a little taste, he was going to have to ask you to do it for him everyday.

“Darling,” he gasped again. “I look hot.” He set the mirror aside so he could see you again and beckoned you forward with his pointer finger. You stepped between his legs once again and he rested his hands on your waist, pulling you closer before wrapping his arms around you.

“I agree,” you nodded. “But I always think you’re hot.”

“Babe, do you have a crush on me?” He teased and you just rolled your eyes.

“Eddie,” you chuckled. “We’re literally married.”

“Just answer the question, y/n.” He pulled you closer to him, his lips right by your ear.

“Yes, Eds, I have a crush on you.” Sometimes he was so ridiculous, but you couldn’t help but love him. He made it so easy.

“Don’t say that too loud, my wife might hear you,” he whispered, making goosebumps rise on your arms. “Now give me some sugar.”

You pressed your lips to his in a quick peck and tried to move away, but his arms only wrapped around you tighter. You let out a laugh at how childish he was acting. He didn’t play when it came to your kisses. If he had it his way, he would have kissed you forever.

“Eddie,” you laughed. “We have to finish getting ready.”

“One kiss and I’ll let you go.” You knew there was no getting out of it, but you didn’t mind. Not at all.

“Needy,” you replied, leaning into him, wrapping your arms around his neck. His hands rubbed along your back as his face inched towards yours.

“Very.” His lips slotted between yours in a gentle kiss which was typical to expect when he had asked. Those kinds of kisses were always filled with so much love, as if he was trying to show you exactly how he felt with his lips.

His arms tightened around you as he licked into your mouth. You let out a laugh as you pulled away, Eddie trying to chase your lips as you did so.

“Eddie,” you chuckled. “We’re going to be late.” You both were supposed to be at Robin’s in twenty minutes for her birthday party and now you were definitely going to be late. She shouldn’t have been surprised, though. This was very like you and Eddie since you had become a couple all those years ago.

You had become the kind of couple who couldn’t keep their hands off each other. But only behind closed doors. When in public, the most you would do was hold hands. Over time, your entire friend group had become aware of your inability to be able to keep your hands to yourselves and made fun of you for it. It had become a joke between all of them and you had let them laugh because it had been true, after all.

“So?” He pressed another kiss to your lips. “Everyone already assumes we’re going to be late anyway. Why not take advantage?” Another kiss, this one lingering.

“Eddie, we can’t fuck right now,” you rolled your eyes.

“No one said anything about fucking, darling. I just want some kisses. Can you do that for your hubby?”

“If you never refer to yourself as my hubby ever again.”

“Consider it a deal, sugar.” He pulled you in for another kiss, taking no time to swipe his tongue along your bottom lip. You opened your mouth, letting him inside. His tongue roamed around, roughly scraping against yours. His legs wrapped around your waist, causing the two of you to be chest to chest.

Eddie leaned into you, his hands moving down your back only to go up your shirt and underneath your bra. He lifted your shirt over your head, setting it next to him before removing his own. His lips pressed to your neck then moved down to your shoulder, moving the strap of your bra to give him more access.

“So pretty,” he mumbled against your shoulder. “So so pretty.”

“You’re the pretty one,” you replied and his lips moved back up to yours.

“Let’s agree that we’re both pretty, okay?” You supposed you could agree to that. Although, you liked having the little argument about who was prettier. He was always going to win that competition.

“Sounds good,” you replied, moving your hands to his hair, pressing your lips to his once more. Your fingers pressed into his scalp as you licked into his mouth and he let out a moan as you grabbed a fistful of his hair.

“So good, baby,” he whined, his legs wrapping tighter around your waist. You backed away and he removed his legs from you. He then leapt off the counter and you took him by the hand to lead him to your shared bedroom. You were so going to be late to the party.

[theoutcastrogue]

"The majority of high-tech patent lawsuits are brought by patent trolls—companies that exist not to provide products or services, but primarily have a business using patents to threaten others’ work. Some politicians are proposing to make that bad situation worse. ...

The Patent Eligibility Restoration Act, S. 2140, (PERA), sponsored by Senators Thom Tillis (R-NC) and Chris Coons (D-DE) would be a huge gift to patent trolls, a few tech firms that aggressively license patents, and patent lawyers. For everyone else, it will be a huge loss. That’s why we’re opposing it, and asking our supporters to speak out as well. 

Patent trolling is still a huge, multi-billion dollar problem that’s especially painful for small businesses and everyday internet users. But, in the last decade, we’ve made modest progress placing limits on patent trolling. The Supreme Court’s 2014 decision in Alice v. CLS Bank barred patents that were nothing more than abstract ideas with computer jargon added in. Using the Alice test, federal courts have kicked out a rogue’s gallery of hundreds of the worst patents. 

Under Alice’s clear rules, courts threw out ridiculous patents on “matchmaking”, online picture menus, scavenger hunts, and online photo contests. The nation’s top patent court, the Federal Circuit, actually approved a patent on watching an ad online twice before the Alice rules finally made it clear that patents like that cannot be allowed. The patents on “bingo on a computer?” Gone under Alice. Patents on loyalty programs (on a computer)? Gone. Patents on upselling (with a computer)? All gone. ...

PERA’s attempt to roll back progress goes beyond computer technology. For almost 30 years, some biotech and pharmaceutical companies actually applied for, and were granted, patents on naturally occuring human genes. As a consequence, companies were able to monopolize diagnostic tests that relied on naturally occurring genes in order to help predict diseases such as breast cancer, making such testing far more expensive. The ACLU teamed up with doctors to confront this horrific practice, and sued. That lawsuit led to a historic victory in 2013 when the Supreme Court disallowed patents on human genes found in nature. 

If PERA passes, it will explicitly overturn that ruling, allowing human genes to be patented once again. ...

“To See Your Own Blood, Your Own Genes”

From the 1980s until the 2013 Myriad decision, the U.S. Patent and Trademark Office granted patents on human genomic sequences. If researchers “isolated” the gene—a necessary part of analysis—they would then get a patent that described isolating, or purified, as a human process, and insist they weren’t getting a patent on the natural world itself.

But this concept of patenting an “isolated” gene was simply a word game, and a distinction without a difference. With the genetic patent in hand, the patent-holder could demand royalty payments from any kind of test or treatment involving that gene. And that’s exactly what Myriad Genetic did when they patented the BRCA1 and BRCA2 gene sequences, which are important indicators for the prevalence of breast or ovarian cancer. 

Myriad’s patents significantly increased the cost of those tests to U.S. patients. The company even sent some doctors cease and desist letters, saying the doctors could not perform simple tests on their own patients—even looking at the gene sequences without Myriad’s permission would constitute patent infringement. 

This behavior caused pathologists, scientists, and patients to band together with ACLU lawyers and challenge Myriad’s patents. They litigated all the way to the Supreme Court, and won. “A naturally occurring DNA segment is a product of nature and not patent eligible merely because it has been isolated,” the Supreme Court stated in Association for Molecular Pathology v. Myriad Genetics. 

A practice like granting and enforcing patents on human genes should truly be left in the dustbin of history. It’s shocking that pro-patent lobbyists have convinced these Senators to introduce legislation seeking to reinstate such patents. Last month, the President of the College of American Pathologists published an op-ed reminding lawmakers and the public about the danger of patenting the human genome, calling gene patents “dangerous to the public welfare.”  

As Lisbeth Ceriani, a breast cancer survivor and a plaintiff in the Myriad case said, “It’s a basic human right to see your own blood, your own genes.” "

[warningsine]

Notice how Helena uses "I" instead of "she" and how Milchik gives her the soft sell.

Combine this with:

her embarrassed "My dad forced me to recite the 9 rules as a child and I did not like it then" admission in front of a camera.

James basically thanking her for risking her life for the company and lying about it. He "cried" about the suicide attempt, and yet he didn't even contact his daughter, since he's telling her this now at the gala as an aside to the event. In terms of family emergency time? Too fucking late. Is this the only time Helena's seen him since then? Not to mention how he didn't want to take responsibility and blamed it all on his daughter's alter ego.

And you'll get a more nuanced interpretation than the "Helena pure corporate evil, Helly R. good rebel" binary one.

Despite doing that cruel "I'm a person, you're not" presentation and being determined to see the process through even after Helly tries to commit suicide, there's some part of Helena that must know that this is messed up.

Sure, she's complicit and not a hapless victim, but she's also a product of her upbringing. Stripping her of her privilege, heritage, cult-like brainwashing/indoctrination and Shiv Roy-like desperation to win her dad's approval gives you Helly.

They are the same person under different circumstances.

There are no contradictions between the fundamental makeup of her innie and outie.

The version of herself Helena brings inside Lumon questions everything and demands accommodation and answers, because she is used to getting what she wants as a privileged woman.

What changes her is the different context she's given.

Helena is a wealthy and powerful woman who gets what she wants; Helly is a powerless woman who is often being tortured. It makes sense that her traits—stubborness and determination among others—and the fundamental sense of "I deserve to get what I want" are present in Helly.

But also make no mistake: they're both prisoners. Helly in a more literal sense, Helena in a figurative one—a prisoner in her family and the role that was imposed on her.

A willing participant that benefits from a controlling system is not free from the harm or influence of it. Acknowledging Helena's abusive circumstances doesn't take away from her as an antagonist, it makes her story more compelling.

Helena's self-serving qualities are more a matter of nurture than nature, because Helly shows caring and compassion as well as rebellion and independence. Helly is like a very young version of Helena.

All of the outies' emotions leak through to some extent.

Helly's "Well, that's a given for me [that I'm an asshole out there]" is a pretty safe assumption to make based on Helena's video, but it also oozes self-loathing. Helena taking it out on Helly does too.

Ultimately, I think this happens on a figurative level to a lot of people who undergo an—emotionally in this case— abusive upbringing. Rejecting their most vulnerable parts and imprisoning them. It's a survival mechanism, and helps them feel like they have more control over their out of control personal life. But, in a way, it makes them more out of control once they get into the real world.

Their inner, imprisoned parts find ways to make it so they can't ignore them. We definitely saw that with Helly threatening to mutilate herself and attempting suicide.

There are consequences to denying and imprisoning any part of ourselves over the long term.

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

By: Jesse Singal

Published: Jun 27, 2024

In April Hilary Cass, a British paediatrician, published her review of gender-identity services for children and young people, commissioned by NHS England. It cast doubt on the evidence base for youth gender medicine. This prompted the World Professional Association for Transgender Health (WPATH), the leading professional organisation for the doctors and practitioners who provide services to trans people, to release a blistering rejoinder. WPATH said that its own guidelines were sturdier, in part because they were “based on far more systematic reviews”.

Systematic reviews should evaluate the evidence for a given medical question in a careful, rigorous manner. Such efforts are particularly important at the moment, given the feverish state of the American debate on youth gender medicine, which is soon to culminate in a Supreme Court case challenging a ban in Tennessee. The case turns, in part, on questions of evidence and expert authority.

Court documents recently released as part of the discovery process in a case involving youth gender medicine in Alabama reveal that WPATH's claim was built on shaky foundations. The documents show that the organisation’s leaders interfered with the production of systematic reviews that it had commissioned from the Johns Hopkins University Evidence-Based Practice Centre (EPC) in 2018.

From early on in the contract negotiations, WPATH expressed a desire to control the results of the Hopkins team’s work. In December 2017, for example, Donna Kelly, an executive director at PATH, told Karen Robinson, the EPC's director, that the WPATH board felt the EPC researchers “cannot publish their findings independently”. A couple of weeks later, Ms Kelly emphasised that, “the [WPATH] board wants it to be clear that the data cannot be used without WPATH approval”.

Ms Robinson saw this as an attempt to exert undue influence over what was supposed to be an independent process. John Ioannidis of Stanford University, who co-authored guidelines for systematic reviews, says that if sponsors interfere or are allowed to veto results, this can lead to either biased summaries or suppression of unfavourable evidence. Ms Robinson sought to avoid such an outcome. “In general, my understanding is that the university will not sign off on a contract that allows a sponsor to stop an academic publication,” she wrote to Ms Kelly.

Months later, with the issue still apparently unresolved, Ms Robinson adopted a sterner tone. She noted in an email in March 2018 that, “Hopkins as an academic institution, and I as a faculty member therein, will not sign something that limits academic freedom in this manner,” nor “language that goes against current standards in systematic reviews and in guideline development”.

Not to reason XY

Eventually WPATH relented, and in May 2018 Ms Robinson signed a contract granting WPATH power to review and offer feedback on her team’s work, but not to meddle in any substantive way. After WPATH leaders saw two manuscripts submitted for review in July 2020, however, the parties’ disagreements flared up again. In August the WPATH executive committee wrote to Ms Robinson that WPATH had “many concerns” about these papers, and that it was implementing a new policy in which WPATH would have authority to influence the EPC team’s output—including the power to nip papers in the bud on the basis of their conclusions.

Ms Robinson protested that the new policy did not reflect the contract she had signed and violated basic principles of unfettered scientific inquiry she had emphasised repeatedly in her dealings with WPATH. The Hopkins team published only one paper after WPATH implemented its new policy: a 2021 meta-analysis on the effects of hormone therapy on transgender people. Among the recently released court documents is a WPATH checklist confirming that an individual from WPATH was involved “in the design, drafting of the article and final approval of [that] article”. (The article itself explicitly claims the opposite.) Now, more than six years after signing the agreement, the EPC team does not appear to have published anything else, despite having provided WPATH with the material for six systematic reviews, according to the documents.

No one at WPATH or Johns Hopkins has responded to multiple inquiries, so there are still gaps in this timeline. But an email in October 2020 from WPATH figures, including its incoming president at the time, Walter Bouman, to the working group on guidelines, made clear what sort of science WPATH did (and did not) want published. Research must be “thoroughly scrutinised and reviewed to ensure that publication does not negatively affect the provision of transgender health care in the broadest sense,” it stated. Mr Bouman and one other coauthor of that email have been named to a World Health Organisation advisory board tasked with developing best practices for transgender medicine.

Another document recently unsealed shows that Rachel Levine, a transwoman who is assistant secretary for health, succeeded in pressing WPATH to remove minimum ages for the treatment of children from its 2022 standards of care. Dr Levine’s office has not commented. Questions remain unanswered, but none of this helps WPATH’s claim to be an organisation that bases its recommendations on science. 

[ Via: https://archive.today/wJCI7 ]

--

==

So, there are 6 completed reviews sitting somewhere, that WPATH knows shows undesirable (to them) results. And they know it. And despite - or perhaps, because of - that, they wrote the insane SOC8 anyway. And then, at the behest of Rachel Levine, went back and took out the age limits, making it even more insane.

This isn't how science works, it's how a cult works.

When John Templeton Foundation commissioned a study on the efficacy of intercessory prayer, a study which unsurprisingly found that it's completely ineffective, it was forced to publish the negative results.

So, even the religious are more ethical than gender ideologues when it comes to science. This is outright scientific corruption.

[cocobeanncteez]

The CEO Collision - Part Three

Pairing: CEO!Seonghwa x CEO!reader (f)

Warnings / content for Part Three: alcohol consumption, profanities, seonghwa is involved in a scandal, this part contains smut (mdni / 18+), oral (f and m receiving), penetration / piv, protected sex (pill). Please note that other than Ateez, all other character names used are fictional.

Word Count: 11.2k

Masterlist for The CEO Collision

The next few weeks flew by in a whirlwind of work. Your schedule was packed from morning to night with meetings, strategy sessions, and overseeing new developments at your company. The company was preparing for the launch of its newest diagnostic imaging device, and every detail required your attention. From approving marketing materials to meeting with engineers to ensure production timelines were met, you barely had time to breathe.

Meanwhile, Seonghwa was in Daegu for a business trip, overseeing a major expansion project for his own company. He was working closely with new suppliers and negotiating contracts, ensuring the company’s foothold in the region remained strong. The two of you were only able to meet twice these past few weeks with the presence of your families. But you stayed in touch through texts, though the messages were often brief—updates on your respective schedules, quick remarks about your days, and the occasional playful teasing.

It was a Thursday morning at work, and you knew you were going to have to work over the weekend too as you had to attend Yunho’s father’s retirement party tomorrow night. You dearly missed Seonghwa, and as if on cue, he messaged you.

Seonghwa: How’s the launch prep going? Still sane? You: Barely. If I see another typo in these reports, I might scream Seonghwa: You’re the CEO. Just yell. It’s therapeutic You: Sure, and scare my staff half to death? Seonghwa: Consider it a bonding exercise

You chuckled at his last message before putting your phone aside and getting back to work. Despite the distance, the tension from the last time you saw him didn’t dissipate. If anything, the brief moments of flirtation over text seemed to stoke the flames. You’d catch yourself rereading his messages, biting your lip as you thought about his smirk, his touch, the way he’d kissed you against your car and in his library.

But the busyness of your days left little time for daydreams.

A knock at your door was heard before Nari walked in, an anxious look on her face that immediately made you alert.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, worried. “Please don’t tell me we lost data or something.”

“Oh, Ms. Y/N,” she cried, “Yunho said he wants to introduce me to his parents tomorrow night at his father’s retirement party! What should I do?!”

You blinked, processing Nari’s sudden outburst before letting out a small laugh of relief. “That’s it? Nari, you scared me half to death!”

“I’m sorry!” she wailed, clutching her phone tightly. “But this is serious! His parents! What if they don’t like me? What if I mess up? What if—”

“Nari,” you interrupted, standing up and walking over to her. “Take a deep breath.”

She nodded, inhaling sharply and exhaling slowly as you guided her to sit down. “Okay, I’m breathing. Now tell me what to do. I can’t mess this up!”

“You’re not going to mess this up,” you reassured her, pulling a chair over and sitting across from her. “Yunho adores you, right? He wouldn’t introduce you to his parents if he didn’t think they’d like you too.”

“But—”

“No buts. You’re charming, sweet, and smart. Just be yourself,” you said firmly. “And maybe tone down the worrying, just a little.”

Nari let out a nervous laugh, her cheeks flushing. “You’re right. I’m overthinking this, aren’t I?”

“Just a little,” you teased, offering her a smile. “Now, what are you wearing?”

Her eyes widened, the panic returning. “I have no idea! What’s the dress code? What if I’m overdressed? Or underdressed? Or—”

“Nari,” you said, holding up a hand to stop her spiral. “First of all, it’s a black-tie event. Second, I’ll help you pick something out after work, okay? You’ll be perfect.”

Her shoulders sagged with relief. “Thank you, Ms. Y/N. You’re a lifesaver.”

You laughed softly. “Just come over to my place tomorrow. There’s a whole team coming to doll my family up. I’ll have them bring some gowns for you too.”

“Deal,” she said, standing up. “I owe you.”

“Big time,” you teased as she left your office, a newfound spring in her step.

As the door closed, you leaned back in your chair, smiling to yourself. It was nice to see Nari so excited, even if she was a bundle of nerves. And while you wouldn’t admit it out loud, helping her plan for Yunho’s parents was a welcome distraction from your own thoughts about Seonghwa.

-

The next morning at work, you were really tired, and Nari was working at your desk while you laid down on the sofa in your office, trying to take a power nap.

You groggily opened your eyes, still feeling the effects of a restless night as you tried to adjust to the morning light. A loud gasp from Nari quickly jolted you awake, your senses on high alert.

"Y/N, you need to see this!" Nari’s voice was filled with disbelief, and she was already staring intently at her laptop screen.

You sat up from the couch, wiping sleep from your eyes. "What happened? Did something go wrong with the data?" you asked, already feeling a spike of concern.

Nari didn’t answer right away. Instead, she clicked her mouse, and before you could even get close, she gasped again, her hands shaking slightly as she pointed at the screen. "Look at this, Y/N."

You walked over, her frantic energy infectious, and peered at the screen. Your heart dropped into your stomach when you saw the headline:

“CEO Park Seonghwa Caught in Scandal with Young Actress Lee Yoona: A Relationship Blooming?”

The article included several pictures—one of Seonghwa dining with Lee Yoona, the 22-year-old actress, at a trendy restaurant, another showing the two of them walking out of the venue, looking comfortable with each other, laughing together as they left. But it was the final photo that made your stomach twist—Seonghwa carrying Yoona bridal-style into a hotel.

You stared at the image for a long moment, the weight of it sinking in. Your mind tried to process the details, but your heart was already racing, caught somewhere between confusion and anger.

Nari leaned in, her voice barely above a whisper as she read the article aloud:

“CEO Park Seonghwa has been spotted multiple times in the company of actress Lee Yoona, sparking rumors about a blossoming romance between the two. The latest photos taken at a five-star restaurant in Daegu show the two enjoying a private dinner, followed by Seonghwa carrying Yoona to a hotel in a highly intimate gesture. The 8-year age gap has raised some eyebrows, but sources close to both parties suggest that their relationship is more than just a professional one. Lee Yoona is currently in Daegu, filming for her upcoming show ‘Are we in love?’ set to release later in the year, while the reason for CEO Park Seonghwa’s visit to Daegu is unknown.”

Nari clicked her tongue in disbelief. “This is crazy, Y/N. I don’t believe for a second that Seonghwa would do something like this. You and him…” She paused, turning to look at you, as if trying to gauge your reaction. "You’re sort of engaged, right? I mean, he wouldn’t—”

You couldn’t respond immediately, your brain still foggy from the overwhelming sensation of seeing Seonghwa with someone else so… intimately. “This can’t be real, right? He’s… with her? Just like that?” You let the words hang in the air, feeling the weight of them pull you down.

"Come on, Y/N, don't jump to conclusions." Nari’s voice was firm, trying to ground you in logic. "I’ve known Seonghwa for a while, and I honestly don’t think he’s like that. I think… I think the media just twisted things, like they always do. I mean, look at how they spun the dinner. Who knows? It could’ve been completely innocent. You’ve seen how the press exaggerates everything."

You shook your head, trying to clear the fog in your mind. "I don’t know, Nari. This is different. They were so close... Seonghwa's always been professional. But this—this isn’t professional."

Nari leaned back in her chair, her gaze softening. “I get it, I do. But don’t let this media storm get to you. You haven’t heard his side yet, right? And don’t forget, there’s always the possibility that this is nothing more than an innocent dinner, blown out of proportion.”

You let out a shaky breath, feeling like you were about to fall apart. “I need to hear from him. I need to know what’s going on."

The article lingered in front of you like a bad dream, and all you could think about was how your world had just shifted in an instant.

Nari sighed, offering you a small smile. “I’ll support you no matter what, Y/N. But before jumping to conclusions, talk to Seonghwa. You deserve to know the truth straight from him.”

You nodded, still in disbelief, but the one thing you knew for sure was that you had to confront him. You needed clarity. This wasn’t something you could just ignore, especially with the way your heart was reacting to seeing him with someone else.

You reached for your phone, fingers trembling slightly as you unlocked the screen and stared at Seonghwa’s contact. Should you call him now? Or wait for him to reach out? You hesitated for only a moment before you hit his name and waited for him to pick up.

He didn’t pick up. There were no texts from him either. It was nearly one o’clock in the afternoon. Where was he?

Picking up your phone once again, you scrolled through his contact info and dialed his number, your heart racing as the call connected. The phone rang, and your stomach churned with each passing second.

Then—voicemail.

While you waited for Seonghwa to call you back, you looked up his name online, seeing dozens of articles about the scandal. As you scrolled through the articles, your heart sank with every new headline. The media had taken the story and spun it into something much worse than it probably was.

One article in particular caught your attention. It was a detailed write-up about Seonghwa and Lee Yoona, describing their dinner together at a well-known high-end restaurant in Daegu. According to the piece, Seonghwa had been seen laughing and chatting with her before they left together, with some sources claiming that they had been "inseparable" the entire evening. The most damning part of the article was the photo of Seonghwa lifting Yoona in his arms, carrying her bridal-style toward a hotel entrance late in the night. The paparazzi had captured the moment perfectly, making it look like something straight out of a romance movie—except it was far from romantic to you.

Your hands shook slightly as you read the speculation. According to the article, the two of them had been spending "increasingly intimate time together" and rumors of a relationship had started swirling ever since they were seen together at a gala a few months ago. There were comments from people who claimed to have "witnessed their chemistry" and one particularly nasty line about how Seonghwa had always been "a man of many loves."

You clenched your fists, a mixture of anger and confusion bubbling up inside you. How could he not tell you about this? If it was nothing, why hadn’t he reached out to clear the air? Why hadn't he said something before all of this? You trusted him, but now, everything seemed clouded in doubt.

The worst part was that you couldn't stop imagining the look on his face when he carried Yoona into that hotel. Could he have been with her? The idea gnawed at you, the jealousy and betrayal making your stomach twist.

But then, you remembered something—something important. You hadn't seen the whole story. You didn’t know the truth.

You took in a deep breath, trying to steady your racing thoughts. You had to give him the chance to explain. If Seonghwa was who you thought he was, this wouldn’t be the whole picture. There had to be a reasonable explanation. But then again, could there be?

You set your phone down for a moment, looking out the window, trying to calm yourself before your nerves completely took over. Why wasn’t he calling?

-

You stood near the entrance of the elegantly decorated ballroom, feeling the weight of the night pressing on your chest. The chatter around you was lively, the clinking of glasses and laughter echoing through the room, but you barely registered any of it. You had been at Yunho’s father’s retirement party for over an hour now, and still, there was no word from Seonghwa.

Your parents had been urging you not to jump to conclusions, insisting that you wait until you spoke to him directly. They kept telling you that these things often got blown out of proportion in the media. But despite their reassurances, you couldn’t shake the knot in your stomach, the gnawing feeling that maybe you were wrong to trust him. Why hadn’t he reached out by now?

Yeosang and Yunho had been doing their best to distract you, introducing you to people you barely remembered and trying to keep the conversation light, but your mind was elsewhere. You could feel the tension building, making it harder to breathe. Every time your phone buzzed, you jumped—each time hoping it would be Seonghwa, but it never was.

Just then, Hongjoong appeared beside you, his eyes scanning the crowd before landing on you. He gave you a small smile, though there was concern in his gaze.

“Hey,” he said softly, leaning in slightly so only you could hear. “You okay?”

You gave him a tight smile, though it didn’t reach your eyes. “I’m fine. Just... waiting for Seonghwa to explain himself.”

Hongjoong’s brow furrowed, and he put a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “Look, Y/N, I know you’re upset, but Seonghwa? He’s not the type of guy to do something like that. I’ve known him for years, and I can tell you, he’s not that guy.”

You nodded, but your doubts remained. You had heard people say that before—he’s not that guy. But the articles didn’t lie, did they? He was photographed carrying Lee Yoona into a hotel, and the entire media had already decided what that meant. Could he really have just been helping her?

“But why hasn’t he called me?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “Why hasn't he said anything about it?”

Hongjoong’s expression softened, and he gave you a sympathetic look. “I don’t know. He hasn’t responded to my texts yet either. He’s supposed to be here tonight. But believe me, he would never betray you like this.”

You wanted to believe him. You really did. But the silence between you and Seonghwa was stretching on for too long, and it hurt.

"I just don't get it," you murmured, turning your attention back to the people mingling around you. "He should’ve said something by now.”

Hongjoong’s gaze softened further as he gave you a comforting pat on the back. “I know. But he’s not the kind of guy to hide something like this from you. Don’t forget who he is, Y/N. He values honesty above everything.”

You nodded, though your heart still felt heavy. His words were a small comfort, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. Every minute that ticked by without a word from Seonghwa seemed to make the situation worse.

“Maybe... maybe he’s just scared,” Hongjoong added after a pause, his voice thoughtful. “We both know Seonghwa. He doesn’t do well with conflict, especially when it comes to things that matter.”

You sighed, rubbing your forehead. “I just don’t understand why he hasn’t reached out. It’s not like him.”

“Well, maybe he doesn’t know how to explain himself,” Hongjoong said gently. “But he will. I’m sure of it. Just wait and see.”

You wanted to believe him. But every part of you was screaming for answers, and the longer you waited, the harder it became to stay calm.

Half an hour later, Seonghwa entered Yunho’s family mansion, his presence commanding immediate attention. Wooyoung followed close behind, an uncharacteristic seriousness in his expression. Ignoring the whispers and curious looks from the crowd, Seonghwa scanned the room until his eyes landed on Yunho. He crossed the room in long strides.

“Yunho,” Seonghwa said, his voice low but urgent. “Have you seen Y/N anywhere? I need to talk to her.”

Yunho studied him for a moment, then nodded toward the staircase. “She’s in the study upstairs. She needed to finish a call.”

Seonghwa didn’t waste a second, muttering a quick thanks before heading upstairs. He knocked on the study door before pushing it open. You were standing by the window, your phone still in hand, though it appeared the call had just ended. When you turned and saw him, your expression shifted, a mix of surprise and guarded relief.

“Seonghwa,” you said softly, though the tension in your voice was unmistakable.

“Y/N,” he began, closing the door behind him. “Please, let me explain everything.”

You didn’t move from your spot, but your posture relaxed slightly. “I’m listening.”

He let out a breath, his shoulders slumping as if a weight had been lifted by your willingness to hear him out. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t contact you. My phone—” He held it up, showing the shattered screen. “It’s completely broken. I… I got drunk after dropping Yoona at her hotel, and I must have broken it then. I know it was irresponsible of me, but I didn’t want to leave you in the dark like this. I… Wooyoung doesn’t have your number or Hongjoong’s so I had no way of contacting you. I knew you were coming tonight so I thought of speaking to you here directly.”

Your brows furrowed, concern flickering across your face despite the situation. “What happened, Seonghwa? I want to believe you, but the articles… they’re everywhere.”

He took a deep breath, stepping closer. “Believe me, Y/N, I know this looks really bad, but Yoona is like a younger sister to me, Y/N, and she sees me as an older brother. I would never… I couldn’t even think of her that way. Five years ago, her father—a terrible man—sold her to some man to pay off his gambling debts. She was just out of high school, terrified, and alone. She ran away, and I found her on the side of a road in Busan, badly beaten.”

Your eyes widened slightly, and the tension in your expression softened as you listened.

“I took her to the hospital, reported everything, and made sure those responsible were punished. I offered to support her college education, but she always wanted to pursue acting, so I introduced her to a friend’s agency. I helped her get an apartment here in Seoul. Since then, I’ve checked in on her occasionally to make sure she’s okay.”

You stayed quiet, letting him continue.

“As for the pictures of me carrying her… She had too much to drink and couldn’t walk properly. Wooyoung and another friend were with us the entire time, but the media conveniently left them out. They were passed out in the car from drinking, so I carried her to her room to make sure she was safe and then went back to my own hotel.”

Your gaze dropped to the floor for a moment before meeting his again. “Why didn’t you tell me about her before?”

“I should have,” Seonghwa admitted, guilt etched into his face. He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling deeply. “To be honest with you, no one other than Wooyoung knows about Yoona. Not even my parents—though they’ve certainly expressed their frustration with me now that this has come to light.”

Your expression softened slightly, the tension in your posture easing just a bit.

“I didn’t tell anyone because… well, money has never been an issue for me. I helped save her life because it was the right thing to do, not because I wanted recognition or acknowledgment. It felt private—her story, her struggles. And I thought keeping it that way would protect her.”

He hesitated for a moment, his gaze meeting yours with an intensity that made your chest tighten. “Looking back, I realize I should’ve told you,” he said, moving to stand in front of you, taking your hands in his. “But I never thought it was relevant, not until the media twisted it into something it wasn’t.”

You considered his words, your initial hurt beginning to dissolve into understanding. “I get that you were trying to protect her, Seonghwa, and I respect that. But if we’re… if we’re going to move forward, I need to know that you trust me enough to share these parts of your life with me, even if they seem irrelevant to you.”

His eyes softened, and he nodded. “You’re right. I’ll do better. I promise.”

You hummed in response, your gaze dropping to your hands still intertwined with his. For a moment, the warmth of his touch distracted you, but a flicker of memory broke through—the times he had ignored you after those drunken nights together. The question burned on the tip of your tongue, aching to be asked.

But you were too drained to confront it now. Today had already been an emotional rollercoaster, and this wasn’t the right time or place. It was Yunho’s father’s retirement party, and you still wanted to spend time with your friends and acquaintances, not unravel more layers of this complicated situation.

Seonghwa’s thumb brushed against the back of your hand, drawing you back to the present. His brows furrowed slightly as he studied your face. “There’s something on your mind,” he said gently. “What is it?”

You shook your head quickly. “It’s nothing. I’m just… tired.”

His lips pressed into a thin line, clearly not buying your deflection. “Y/N, please. I can see there’s more to it than that.”

You hesitated, but before you could decide how to respond, he took a deep breath, his grip on your hands tightening slightly as if bracing himself. “Look… there’s something I… I need to say.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the seriousness in his tone.

“I’m in love with you,” he confessed, his voice low but steady, his gaze locked onto yours with an intensity that made it hard to breathe. “I don’t expect an answer from you now. I just… I couldn’t hold it in anymore. Not after everything that’s happened… I just needed you to know that.”

You stared at him, wide-eyed and speechless. His words hung heavily in the air, filling the space between you with a mix of tension, vulnerability, and unspoken possibilities.

Seonghwa took a cautious step closer, his hands still holding yours as if afraid you might pull away. His eyes searched your face, trying to gauge your reaction.

“I know I’ve made mistakes,” he continued softly, his voice laced with regret. “And I know I haven’t always treated you the way you deserve. But I’m serious about this, about us. Even if I have to wait until you’re ready to believe me… I will.”

The sincerity in his words caused a lump to form in your throat. You blinked rapidly, overwhelmed by the sheer weight of the moment.

“Seonghwa…” you started, your voice barely above a whisper. “I… I don’t know what to say.”

He smiled faintly, a bittersweet curve of his lips. “You don’t have to say anything. I just needed you to know.”

The vulnerability in his eyes was disarming, and for a moment, all the hurt and confusion from before seemed to melt away. But before you could process your emotions further, a distant voice from downstairs called your name, pulling you back to reality.

You took a deep breath, gently pulling your hands away. “I should go back to the party,” you said, your tone steady despite the turmoil inside you.

Seonghwa nodded, stepping back to give you space. “Of course. Just… take your time, Y/N. I’ll be here.”

You nodded, turning to leave the room, but paused at the door. Glancing back at him, you saw the faintest hint of a hopeful smile on his face.

As you walked down the staircase and rejoined the bustling party, your mind was anything but calm. His confession replayed in your head like a broken record, making it impossible to focus on the cheerful chatter around you.

Hongjoong approached, offering you a drink. “Everything okay?” he asked, his sharp eyes scanning your face.

You forced a smile, taking the glass from him. “Yeah. Just… a lot on my mind.”

He didn’t push, simply nodding and clinking his glass with yours. As the night went on, you found yourself stealing glances toward the stairs, wondering if Seonghwa was still upstairs, thinking about you the same way you were now unable to stop thinking about him.

-

The next morning, you were working from home. As you sat at your desk trying to focus on work, a notification lit up your phone screen. It was a breaking news alert with the title: "Statement from ATZ Entertainment about Actress Lee Yoona."

Hello, this is ATZ Entertainment.

False articles involving Actress Lee Yoona has been brought to our attention.

While it is true Lee Yoona was with Park Seonghwa, CEO of Byeol Materials Group, the nature of their relationship is strictly platonic and can best be described as that of an older brother and younger sister. On the evening in question in Daegu where Yoona is currently filming, Yoona joined Park Seonghwa and two of their close friends for dinner after a day of filming. During the course of the evening, Yoona unfortunately sprained her ankle, rendering her unable to walk without assistance. Park Seonghwa carried her to her hotel room to ensure her safety and left immediately after ensuring she was settled. The two friends who were present throughout the evening can also confirm these details.

The media’s selective use of images and omission of context has led to baseless and damaging speculations regarding Mr. Park and Ms. Lee. Both individuals have maintained a professional and friendly relationship over the years, with no romantic involvement whatsoever.

We urge the public to be discerning in their consumption of news and to avoid spreading unfounded rumors. ATZ Entertainment, in conjunction with Byeol Materials Group, will take legal action against individuals or entities who perpetuate false or malicious narratives that harm the reputations of either Lee Yoona or Park Seonghwa.

Thank you for your understanding and cooperation.

You could practically feel the weight of the statement as you read it out loud to Nari, who nodded approvingly. “That should definitely put things to rest,” she said confidently.

You hummed in agreement, though a small part of you still felt uneasy. The media had been relentless with its speculations, and you weren’t naive enough to think this would stop all the chatter. But at least now the truth was out there. And more importantly, Seonghwa’s words to you from last night echoed in your mind, solidifying your trust in him. Of course, you knew they would cover up the fact that Lee Yoona was drunk by claiming she sprained her ankle instead.

Nari stood up, a playful grin on her face. “Now that the drama’s clearing up, maybe you can start thinking about how you’re going to answer Seonghwa’s confession.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the heat rising to your cheeks. “Let’s focus on work, shall we?”

“Sure, boss,” she teased, stretching her arms above her head. “But don’t think I’m letting you avoid the subject forever.”

-x-x-x-

Dinner was unusually quiet, a rare occurrence in your family. Yeri was also present today. The clinking of utensils against plates filled the space, but the usual chatter was missing. You knew why—they were all waiting for the right moment to bring up the one topic everyone was thinking about.

Your father finally broke the silence, setting his glass down with a soft thud. “Y/N,” he began, his tone gentle but probing, “now that everything about Seonghwa has been cleared up, are you ready to move forward? Are you ready to get engaged to him?”

You paused, your fork hovering over your plate as the question settled in the air. All eyes were on you—your mother’s soft and encouraging gaze, Hongjoong’s more neutral but attentive expression, and Yeri’s subtle look of curiosity mixed with concern.

“I…” You hesitated, unsure of how to express the storm of emotions swirling inside you.

“Sweetheart,” your mother said, her voice calm and soothing, “we’re not trying to pressure you. We just want to understand how you’re feeling.”

Your father nodded. “Seonghwa is a good man. We’ve all seen that. But this decision has to come from you.”

Hongjoong leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed. “He’s been through a lot to prove himself, Y/N. And let’s not forget he confessed to you. That’s not something he’d do lightly.”

Yeri chimed in, her voice softer than usual. “And you’ve always been careful with your heart, Y/N. But you’ve also been happier since Seonghwa’s been in your life. Do you love him?”

The question hit you like a bolt of lightning, and for a moment, you were at a loss for words. “I care about him deeply… and I know I have feelings for him,” you admitted, your voice steady but thoughtful. “But love? That’s… that’s something I’m still trying to understand.”

Your father exchanged a glance with your mother before speaking again. “It’s a big step, Y/N. And it’s okay to take your time. But ask yourself this—what do you see when you think about your future? Do you see him in it?”

The room fell silent again, and you stared down at your plate, your thoughts running wild. Did you see Seonghwa in your future? The moments you’d shared with him flashed through your mind—the quiet conversations, the laughter, the way he looked at you like you were the only person in the world, the way he held you while he kissed you.

Finally, you looked up, meeting their expectant gazes. “I don’t have an answer right now,” you said honestly. “But I know I need to talk to him… there’s something I need to ask him. I need to figure this out first, for myself and for us.”

Your mother smiled softly, reaching out to place her hand over yours. “That’s all we ask. Take your time, and trust your heart.”

Hongjoong gave you a supportive nod. “And if he screws up, I’ll handle it. He is my bestfriend after all.”

That drew a small laugh from you, easing some of the tension in the room.

Later that night, as you lay in bed staring at the ceiling, their words replayed in your mind. The question wasn’t just about Seonghwa—it was about what you wanted, what you were ready for.

And deep down, you knew you needed to see him soon. You knew you had to ask him about the multiple times you slept with him and the way he treated it like as if nothing happened.

-

Seonghwa sat at one of Mingi's high-top tables, his tablet balanced precariously on a stack of coasters as he scrolled through bouquet arrangements. His brow was furrowed like he was negotiating a billion-dollar deal instead of picking flowers.

“Roses feel too cliché,” he muttered to himself, clicking to view another arrangement featuring peonies and eucalyptus.

“You know,” Wooyoung began, sipping his brightly colored cocktail with a ridiculous paper umbrella sticking out of it, “this is taking way too long. Just give her flower-shaped diamonds and call it a day.”

Seonghwa didn’t even look up. “Should I?”

Mingi, who was behind the bar mixing a drink, whipped around so fast he almost dropped his shaker. “What?”

Hongjoong, seated at the other end of the table nursing a glass of whiskey, snorted. “He’s kidding.”

Seonghwa paused, looking up from the tablet, his expression unreadable.

“Oh my god, he’s actually considering it!” Wooyoung cackled, slapping his thigh. “I mean, imagine her reaction. Flower-shaped diamonds, Seonghwa. You’d be the most romantic guy in the history of romance. Ever.”

Seonghwa’s lips twitched like he was seriously considering it. “It would be efficient,” he said thoughtfully. “Flowers and jewelry in one.”

Mingi groaned loudly, slamming his shaker on the bar. “You’re not serious.”

“Don’t tempt him,” Hongjoong muttered, swirling the ice in his glass.

“No, no, let’s lean into this,” Wooyoung said, practically vibrating with excitement. “Add in a gold vase to hold the diamond flowers, and boom! The ultimate gift.”

Hongjoong choked on his drink, coughing violently. “Gold vase? Are you insane? You’re going to bankrupt him for life!”

Wooyoung laughed loudly. “Yooo our company is struggling, you could actually end up bankrupt!”

“Not likely,” Seonghwa replied smoothly, still scrolling through the bouquets.

Mingi leaned on the bar, pointing an accusing finger at Seonghwa. “If you actually show up with diamond flowers, I’m banning you from this bar. Forever.”

“Noted,” Seonghwa said dryly, but his small smirk betrayed him. In the end, as they continued their banter, he bookmarked a bouquet of white tulips, lavender, and garden roses. Simple, elegant, and meaningful—just like the person he had in mind.

Mingi leaned against the counter, casually swirling a drink in his hand as he eyed Seonghwa. “So, Mr. Park, when’s the big engagement happening? Got a date set, or are we still in the ‘waiting for permission’ phase?”

Seonghwa sighed, setting his glass down. “There’s no date yet, Mingi. Y/N hasn’t even said yes to the idea of us being engaged.”

Wooyoung gasped, clutching his chest dramatically. “Are you telling me you, Park Seonghwa, the epitome of everything women dream of, haven’t locked this down yet? What is she waiting for? A meteor shower? A handwritten letter from Cupid?”

“Or maybe she’s just sensible,” Mingi cut in, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Not everyone is swept off their feet by Seonghwa’s brooding CEO charm.”

“I’d argue it’s the lack of charm,” Wooyoung muttered under his breath, earning a glare from Seonghwa.

“She promised to give us a chance and get to know me better,” Seonghwa said evenly, though there was a flicker of vulnerability in his tone. “I want her to feel comfortable with the idea before anything happens. She deserves that.”

Mingi nodded thoughtfully. “Fair enough. But do you think she’ll say yes eventually?”

Seonghwa hesitated, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. That’s up to her. I can’t force it. All I can do is show her how serious I am about this… about her.”

Wooyoung snorted. “Serious? Please. You’re practically one step away from carving her name into your desk like some lovesick teenager.”

“Wooyoung,” Seonghwa said warningly, though a faint blush dusted his cheeks.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Wooyoung shot back, grinning. “I’m just saying, if you want her to say yes, you should make a grand gesture. You know, flowers, fireworks, maybe even a plane with a banner that says ‘Marry Me, Y/N.’”

“Do you hear yourself?” Seonghwa asked, exasperated.

“Actually, the flowers idea isn’t bad,” Mingi mused. “Not the plane, though. That’s overkill. But… Isn’t this one of those mutual agreements? Like, you both sit down with your parents and say, ‘Okay, let’s do it on this date with this theme?’”

“That’s how it usually works in families like ours,” Seonghwa admitted. “But…” He trailed off, his fingers idly tapping the edge of his glass.

“But?” Wooyoung pressed, his grin widening.

“I’d rather propose,” Seonghwa said finally, his voice quiet but firm.

The table went silent for a moment before Wooyoung let out a dramatic gasp. “What?! Mr. Tradition himself wants to go rogue?!”

Mingi burst out laughing. “Rogue? He just wants to be romantic, you idiot,” Mingi said, before his tone dropped to a more sincere one. “She deserves to feel special, hyung. If proposing is what feels right to you, then do it. Forget all that business nonsense for a second.”

Hongjoong smirked, raising his glass in a mock toast. “Listen to them for once, Hwa. They’re making sense. For once.”

Seonghwa chuckled, the tension in his shoulders easing just a fraction. “You’re all impossible, you know that?”

“Impossible but wise,” Wooyoung said, tipping his glass toward Seonghwa. “So are we getting involved? Do I get to sprinkle flower petals or something?”

Seonghwa rolled his eyes, but the small, genuine smile playing on his lips said it all. “We’ll see.”

But deep down, as the laughter and teasing continued, Seonghwa was already envisioning the perfect moment. One that would show you just how much he cared—beyond business, beyond expectation, beyond everything.

-x-x-x-

The grandeur of the evening was almost overwhelming, even by your family’s standards. You were at an exclusive charity gala hosted at a sprawling estate, complete with chandeliers, a live orchestra, and servers weaving through the crowd with trays of champagne flutes and hors d'oeuvres.

Dressed in a sleek navy gown, you stood by your parents and Hongjoong, exchanging pleasantries with various guests. Across the room, you spotted Seonghwa with his parents, his sharp black suit highlighting his striking features. He was speaking with an older couple, but his gaze kept flickering in your direction.

“Y/N, Hongjoong, come meet the Baek family,” your father said, steering you both toward an elegantly dressed couple. Beside them stood two men—one looked to be in his late 30s, his wedding ring catching the light as he sipped his drink. The other, however, appeared younger, perhaps in his early 30s. His tailored suit and confident smile screamed wealth and charm.

“This is Mr. and Mrs. Baek,” your father introduced, “and their sons, Baek Hyunwoo and Baek Youngha. They run Baek Pharmaceuticals.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” you said politely, extending your hand.

Baek Youngha’s handshake lingered just a moment too long, his eyes sweeping over you in a way that felt deliberate. “The pleasure is mine, Ms. Kim. I’ve heard a lot about Aurum Medical Technologies. Impressive work for someone so young.”

“Thank you,” you replied with a polite smile, stepping back slightly to create some distance.

As the conversation flowed, Youngha seemed particularly interested in you, asking about your work and future plans. Hongjoong, ever the protective brother, subtly stepped in to steer the conversation whenever it veered too personal.

From across the room, Seonghwa’s jaw tightened. He had noticed the way Baek Youngha’s gaze lingered on you, his expression far too appraising for Seonghwa’s liking.

“Who’s that?” Jongho asked, following Seonghwa’s line of sight.

“Baek Youngha,” Seonghwa muttered. “Youngest son of Baek Pharmaceuticals. And apparently, he doesn’t know how to keep his eyes to himself.”

San smirked, sipping his drink. “Jealous much?”

“Not jealous,” Seonghwa replied, his tone clipped. “Just observant.”

San raised an eyebrow. “Right. Observant. That’s why you’re glaring daggers at the guy.”

Meanwhile, you felt Seonghwa’s eyes on you but tried to focus on the conversation. Youngha leaned in slightly, his tone conspiratorial. “If you ever want to discuss potential collaborations between Aurum and Baek Pharmaceuticals, I’d be happy to arrange a private meeting.”

Before you could respond, Hongjoong interjected smoothly. “I’m sure any discussions like that would need to go through the proper channels. Our teams can coordinate if necessary.”

Youngha chuckled, clearly unbothered. “Of course. I’m just offering my personal insight.”

“Insight is always welcome,” you said politely, though you could feel Seonghwa’s gaze boring into the side of your head.

As the conversation wrapped up, you excused yourself to get a drink, feeling the need to escape the intensity of the interaction. Seonghwa seized the opportunity, making his way across the room to intercept you at the bar.

“You seemed… popular over there,” he remarked, his tone light but his eyes serious.

You raised an eyebrow at him. “Just networking.”

“Networking,” he repeated, his lips pressing into a thin line. “That’s one way to describe it.”

You tilted your head, a teasing smile tugging at your lips. “Why, Mr. Park, are you jealous?”

His eyes darkened slightly, leaning in just enough for only you to hear. “I don’t get jealous. But I do protect what’s mine.”

The heat in his gaze sent a shiver down your spine, and for a moment, the bustling gala seemed to fade into the background. “Am I yours, Seonghwa?” you asked softly, testing the waters.

He straightened, his expression softening but still intense. “I’d like you to be.”

Before you could respond, Hongjoong appeared, his timing impeccable as always. “Y/N, we have another family to meet.”

You glanced back at Seonghwa, his gaze unwavering. “We’ll talk later,” he said, his voice low but filled with promise.

As you walked away, you couldn’t help but feel the pull between you growing stronger, the line between business and personal becoming increasingly blurred.

After speaking to couple more people, you excused yourself from a conversation, making your way over to the bar for another drink. The evening had been exhausting enough, and you needed a moment to yourself. As you reached the bar and picked up a glass of wine, a voice cut through the soft hum of conversations.

“Y/N! Over here!”

You turned to see Youngha waving at you with a grin, standing in a corner with San, Jongho, Seonghwa, and Hyunwoo. His invitation was warm, almost too eager, and you hesitated for a moment before walking over.

As you approached, Youngha pulled out a chair for you from the table right beside them with an exaggerated flourish. “Come join us. We were just discussing how someone like you probably has all the answers to the medical industry’s problems.”

You offered a polite smile as you sat down. “I highly doubt that, but I’m happy to join the conversation.”

Youngha leaned in slightly, his gaze lingering a little too long. “Don’t sell yourself short, Y/N. From what I’ve heard, you’re quite the trailblazer. Smart, accomplished, and strikingly beautiful—a rare combination.”

San and Jongho exchanged a quick glance, their eyes darting toward Seonghwa, whose expression was unreadable but clearly strained. He stood slightly to the side, his arms crossed, watching the exchange with a carefully controlled demeanor.

“Thank you,” you replied, maintaining your composure. “I’m just doing my best, like everyone else.”

“You’re far too modest,” Youngha said with a chuckle, his tone playful but with an undercurrent of something else. “Someone like you deserves recognition. Maybe even someone who can match your ambition and drive.” His hand brushed lightly against the back of your chair, his intent far from subtle.

Seonghwa’s jaw tightened, and he straightened, his presence suddenly commanding. “Recognition is earned through hard work, not flattery,” he said, his voice calm but carrying a sharpness that cut through the air.

Youngha smirked, unfazed. “True, but a little encouragement never hurts, does it?” He glanced at you, his smile widening. “Y/N seems to appreciate it.”

“I’m sure Y/N appreciates sincerity more than hollow compliments,” Seonghwa countered, his eyes narrowing slightly.

San coughed to stifle a laugh, and Jongho took a sip of his drink, hiding his amusement. The tension between the two men crackled in the air, and you could feel it radiating off Seonghwa in waves.

“I assure you, my compliments are anything but hollow,” Youngha said smoothly, raising his glass toward you. “To Y/N, for being an exceptional presence in a room full of ordinary people.”

You tried to redirect the conversation, not wanting things to escalate further. “That’s very kind of you, but I think we’re all extraordinary in our own ways.”

Youngha chuckled, tilting his head toward Seonghwa. “Perhaps some of us have to work a little harder to stand out.”

Seonghwa’s smile was tight, his voice measured. “It’s not about standing out, Youngha. It’s about substance. Something you can’t fake.”

The subtle jab didn’t go unnoticed, and Youngha’s smile faltered for the briefest moment before he recovered. “Substance, of course. But let’s not forget that charm has its own value.”

“Charm fades,” Seonghwa replied coolly, his eyes locked on Youngha’s. “Substance lasts.”

San leaned over to Jongho, whispering, “This is getting spicy. Should we step in?”

Jongho shook his head, a sly grin on his face. “Not a chance. This is better than a drama.”

You cleared your throat, desperate to break the tension. “Well, this has been an interesting discussion, but I think I need some air.”

Youngha stood immediately, offering his hand. “Allow me to escort you—”

“She’ll be fine,” Seonghwa interjected, stepping closer to you, his tone leaving no room for argument. His hand lightly grazed your elbow, guiding you away from the group.

As you walked away, you couldn’t help but notice the heat in Seonghwa’s gaze and the way his touch lingered just a little too long. Youngha watched you both with a knowing smirk, but Seonghwa didn’t look back.

Seonghwa led you toward the balcony, away from the hum of voices and the clinking of glasses. The night air was crisp and cool, a welcome contrast to the tension you’d just escaped, and you were glad there was no one else at this balcony.

“Something bothering you?” you asked innocently, your voice laced with teasing undertones.

He turned to face you with a sharpness in his gaze that made your breath hitch. “What do you think?” he asked, his voice cool, though his eyes burned with something far hotter.

You smirked, tilting your head as you took a step closer, your boldness amplified by the wine you’d been nursing earlier. “I think Baek Youngha got under your skin.”

Seonghwa’s jaw clenched, his lips pressing into a thin line. “He’s irrelevant.”

“Is he?” you pressed, your tone deliberately playful. “Because from where I was seated, he seemed to be having a lot of fun trying to charm me. And you seemed… tense.”

“I wasn’t tense,” he snapped, too quickly, his eyes narrowing at the curve of your lips. “I was just—”

“Jealous?” you finished for him, stepping closer until you were inches apart, your voice dropping into something softer, almost daring. “You didn’t like the way he was looking at me, did you?”

His breath caught for a fraction of a second, his composure slipping just enough for you to notice. “He shouldn’t have been looking at you like that,” he muttered, his voice low, dangerous. “And you shouldn’t have been entertaining it.”

“Entertaining it?” You laughed softly, your fingers brushing the edge of his cuff as you tilted your head up to meet his gaze. “What if I was?”

His eyes darkened, his hand shooting out to catch your wrist, holding it firmly but gently. “Don’t test me, Y/N,” he warned, his voice a husky murmur that sent a shiver down your spine.

You raised a brow, your smirk widening as you leaned closer, your voice a whisper. “Oh, I don’t know about that, Seonghwa. I think I might.”

His grip on your wrist tightened just slightly, his free hand coming up to your waist, hovering there like he wasn’t sure whether to pull you closer. “You’re playing with fire yet again, sweetheart,” he said, his tone rough, a warning, but there was no mistaking the flicker of desire in his eyes.

“Maybe I want to get burned again,” you replied boldly, your heart pounding in your chest.

Before he could respond, a voice interrupted the moment. San appeared in the doorway, his expression unreadable but his timing impeccable as always. “There you are,” he said casually, glancing between the two of you. “Thought I’d find you here. Hongjoong is looking for you.”

You chuckled, grateful for the interruption, though the lingering heat of Seonghwa’s words stayed with you. “Guess we shouldn’t keep him waiting.”

Seonghwa gave you a small smile before stepping back, allowing you to lead the way.

You rejoined the crowd, a polite smile plastered on your face as your thoughts raced. Seonghwa’s intense gaze lingered in your mind, and despite your best efforts, the memory of his voice—low and dangerous—sent a thrill through you.

Hongjoong appeared by your side, handing you a fresh glass of champagne. “You okay? You look a little flushed.”

You laughed lightly, brushing off his concern. “I’m fine. Just a bit warm in here.”

“Uh-huh,” he said skeptically, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with Seonghwa and the little disappearing act you two pulled earlier, would it?”

You choked on your drink, glaring at your brother. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about how you and lover boy vanished for a good five minutes and came back looking… well, let’s just say the air around you was heavy,” he teased, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“Hongjoong, please,” you muttered, your cheeks heating. “It was nothing. Nothing happened.”

“Sure,” he drawled, clearly unconvinced. “Well, just a heads-up—Youngha hasn’t stopped staring at you since you walked back in. And Seonghwa hasn’t stopped glaring at him.”

You glanced across the room, spotting Youngha chatting with some older businessmen. True to Hongjoong’s words, his gaze flickered to you more often than not. Seonghwa, on the other hand, was leaning against the bar, his expression unreadable as his eyes followed your every move.

The tension was palpable, and the evening dragged on as you navigated small talk and pleasantries. At one point, Mrs. Baek found you, her warm smile a contrast to the subtle competitiveness in her tone as she spoke about her sons and their achievements.

“Youngha’s been asking about you,” she said, her eyes gleaming. “It’s rare for him to show interest in anyone at these events.”

You smiled politely, feeling the weight of her words. “That’s flattering. But I’m not sure he and I have much in common.”

“Perhaps not,” she mused, “but sometimes opposites attract.”

Before you could respond, Seonghwa appeared at your side, his presence commanding as always. “Mrs. Baek,” he greeted smoothly, his voice polite but cool. “I hope you’re enjoying the evening.”

“Oh, I am,” she replied, her smile faltering slightly under his steady gaze. “Y/N was just telling me how charming my younger son, Youngha, is. I take it you have certainly met my son before?”

Seonghwa’s jaw tightened imperceptibly, but his smile didn’t waver. “Youngha is certainly… persistent,” he said, his tone carrying just the slightest edge.

You bit back a laugh, feeling the tension crackling between them. “Excuse us, Mrs. Baek,” Seonghwa said suddenly, his hand brushing your lower back as he guided you away. “I need to borrow Ms. Kim here for a moment.”

Once you were out of earshot, you raised an eyebrow at him. “Jealous again?”

He stopped, turning to face you with a smirk that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I don’t get jealous.”

“Right,” you drawled, crossing your arms. “So that little comment about Youngha being persistent was just casual observation?”

“Call it what you want,” he replied, his tone light but his gaze sharp. “But I wasn’t about to let Mrs. Baek start matchmaking you with him.”

You rolled your eyes, your lips twitching in amusement. “I can handle myself, you know.”

“I know,” he said, his voice softening. “But I don’t like the way he looks at you.”

Something in his tone made your breath catch, and for a moment, the noise of the gala faded into the background. His hand lingered at your back, his touch warm and grounding.

“Let’s just get through tonight,” you said finally, your voice quieter. “No more drama.”

He nodded, his expression unreadable. “No more drama.”

After the gala successfully concluded and you had dinner, you headed back home with your family, Seonghwa trailing behind as he needed to collect some documents from Hongjoong’s office. The ride had been mostly quiet, everyone tired from the long evening.

Once home, your parents quickly retired to bed, muttering about early meetings the next day. Hongjoong and Seonghwa lingered in the office room, discussing business matters, but even your brother eventually called it a night, leaving Seonghwa alone in the hallway. Meanwhile, you had settled in the living room, still buzzing with energy from the evening. You had just finished a call with Yeri when you saw Seonghwa emerging from the office, car keys in hand.

“Heading out?” you called, standing up and walking over to him.

He turned, surprised to see you still awake. “Yeah, I was just about to.”

“Stay a bit?” you asked, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “If you’re free, that is.”

His expression softened, the faintest smile breaking through his usual composed demeanor. “Are you sure? It’s late.”

“I don’t sleep early anyway,” you replied, leaning casually against the doorframe.

“Come on then. Let’s chill in my room.”

He raised an eyebrow, but there was no mistaking the amusement in his expression. “Your room?”

“What? Too scandalous for you, Mr. Park?” you teased, already heading toward the stairs. “Don’t worry. I’ll behave.”

“I’m more worried about myself,” he muttered under his breath, though he followed you up the staircase.

You opened your bedroom door and stepped inside, gesturing for him to follow. “Make yourself comfortable.”

His gaze swept over the space as he entered. Your room was an eclectic mix of modern chic and cozy charm, a reflection of your personality. He walked toward the small seating area near the window, pausing to look at the neatly arranged books on your shelf.

“Nice setup,” he said, glancing back at you. “Very you.”

“Thanks,” you replied, sitting cross-legged on your bed. “What do you think? Should I add a shrine for all my business awards?”

“That might be overkill,” he deadpanned, though the corners of his mouth twitched.

“You’re no fun.” You reached for the remote on your nightstand, turning on the ambient lights that cast a soft glow across the room. “I’m going to change out of this. Be right back.”

Seonghwa nodded and took a seat on the chair near your window, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before he nodded. “Take your time.”

With a small smile, you walked into your walk-in closet, flipping the light on. You set your bag on the shelf and began unclasping your jewelry, placing each piece carefully in its box. The faint murmur of Seonghwa shifting in the other room was the only sound as you reached behind to unzip your dress.

But the zipper refused to budge.

“Seriously?” you muttered, twisting and turning to no avail. After a minute of struggling, you gave up with an exasperated sigh.

Poking your head out of the closet door, you found Seonghwa leaning back in the chair, one leg crossed over the other. His suit jacket and tie were taken off, and the first two buttons of his shirt were unbuttoned. He glanced up when he noticed you, his brows arching in question.

“Uh… can you help me?” you asked, walking over to him, your tone casual despite the heat rising to your cheeks. “My zipper’s stuck.”

His expression flickered with surprise, then amusement, though he didn’t hesitate to rise from the chair. “Of course.”

Turning your back to him, you felt the warmth of his presence as he stood close behind you. His hands hesitated at first before pushing your hair to one side and then hovering near the zipper.

“Here?” he asked softly, his voice low and careful.

“Yeah.” You nodded, your voice barely audible.

His fingers brushed against your back as he took hold of the zipper, sending a shiver down your spine. Slowly, he tugged it down, the sound of the unzipping loud in the quiet space. The fabric loosened, revealing more of your skin inch by inch. His touch was light, deliberate, but the tension in the air was anything but.

“There,” he murmured when he reached the small of your back, his voice rougher than before.

You turned to face him, clutching the gown to your chest to keep it from slipping. “Thanks,” you said, though the words came out softer than intended.

His eyes met yours, dark and unreadable, and for a moment, neither of you moved. The confined space seemed to shrink as the charged silence stretched. His gaze dropped briefly to your exposed shoulder, then back to your face, and the intensity in his expression made your pulse race.

“You should…” He trailed off, but his voice had a husky edge now. “Finish changing.”

A slow, mischievous smile spread across your lips. “You’re right,” you said, your tone deliberately light, even as you felt the heat rolling off him. “But it’s much more fun to see you like this.”

“Like what?” he asked, his voice lower now, though his composure was clearly slipping.

“Like you’re trying very hard to look anywhere but here.” You gestured to your bare shoulder with a teasing flick of your fingers, stepping closer.

He took a steadying breath, his hands curling into loose fists at his sides. “I’m not trying anything,” he replied, though the slight rasp in his tone betrayed him. He lightly cleared his throat. “Anything else you need?” he asked, his tone laced with challenge.

You stepped closer, tilting your head. “Depends,” you murmured, the gown slipping slightly under your grip, exposing more of your chest that immediately caught his eyes. “Can you handle more than a zipper?”

His jaw clenched, his composure visibly cracking. “Y/N…” The way he said your name was almost a warning, but his hand rose, skimming your bare arm before settling firmly on your waist.

“What?” you teased, your lips curving into a slow, deliberate smile. “Afraid you’ll lose control?”

“I’m not afraid, sweetheart” he shot back, his voice low and gravelly. “But you’re pushing me again.”

“And?” you whispered, closing the distance between you. “What are you going to do about it?”

His hand tightened on your waist, pulling you flush against him. “This,” he growled, before capturing your lips in a kiss that was anything but hesitant.

The dress slipped from your grasp, pooling at your feet, leaving you in your matching navy lingerie, but you couldn’t have cared less. His hands were on you, strong and unrelenting, and the heat between you burned away any pretense of restraint as the kiss deepened into something raw, urgent, and utterly consuming.

Seonghwa’s hands roamed over your back, pulling you impossibly closer, his touch both possessive and reverent. You matched his energy, threading your fingers through his hair, tugging lightly to elicit a low groan from him that vibrated against your lips. It sent a jolt of electricity straight through you, making you press even closer, as though the two of you couldn’t get close enough no matter how hard you tried.

“Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?” he murmured against your lips, his voice rough and breathless.

You smirked, brushing your lips against his again in a teasing kiss. “I might have an idea.”

He chuckled darkly, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. “You’re driving me fucking insane.”

“And yet, you can’t stay away,” you shot back, your boldness fueled by the fire between you.

“I don’t want to,” he admitted, his tone dropping, heavy with meaning. His lips found the curve of your neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses that made your knees weak. You leaned into him, your hands gripping his shoulders for balance as his mouth continued its maddening path along your skin.

“Seonghwa…” you breathed, your voice a mix of need and warning.

His name on your lips seemed to snap something in him, and he pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes dark with desire. “Tell me to stop,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper, yet filled with a tension that left no room for doubt. “If this is too much, tell me now.”

You met his gaze steadily, your hands slipping down to the buttons of his shirt. “I don’t want you to stop,” you said while undoing the buttons and pushing his shirt off him. “I want this. I want you.”

That was all the encouragement he needed. His lips crashed into yours once more, and this time, there was no hesitation, no holding back. He lifted you effortlessly, guiding you back until your legs hit the edge of the bed. You sank onto it, pulling him down with you, your bodies moving in sync as if they’d always known exactly how to fit together.

Every touch, every kiss, every whispered word fueled the fire between you, the room around you fading into oblivion. All that existed was him—his hands, his lips, his presence, consuming you in a way that felt exhilarating.

He pulled away from kissing you to trail kisses from your neck to the valley of your clothed boobs. Your hard nipples were visible beneath the lacy fabric and Seonghwa delicately placed kisses on each one before continuing his journey down your body until he reached the waistband of your thong.

“May I?” he asked for consent, and you nodded in response. “Use your words, sweetheart.”

“Yes… please,” you said, hips slightly bucking up in urgency, making him chuckle.

“So needy for me.” He pulled your underwear down your legs, tossing it aside. He gently spread your legs wide apart before moving to settle in between your legs. He latched onto your clit, his wet tongue darting out to lick the bud. Your hand moved into his hair, gently tugging on his long strands, and your body feels like it’s on fire. He licks a stripe from your hole to your clit, letting out a small moan at your taste. He repeats his actions a couple of times before latching onto your clit again, gently sucking the nub. You squirm, bucking your hips up, and he smirks, moving his arms around your thighs to hold you down in place so you couldn’t move.

“Hwa… god, fuck,” you moan. He hums before lapping at your clit in a faster pace that had you gripping his hair. He let go of one of your thighs to bring his hand to your hole, slipping a finger inside while continuing to lap at your clit, the combination sending you into a moaning spree. It felt so so good, and you chanted his name over and over again while he increased his pace. The knot in your lower abdomen tightened and your hips kept bucking up.

Seonghwa knew you were close, and he continued his actions until you were crying out his name, your orgasm washing over you in waves, your body shaking in response. He licked up all your juices before letting your thighs go, putting his fingers in his mouth to suck them dry. “Delicious,” he commented, and you chuckled breathlessly before you sat up and reached out to his pants. He understood what you wanted and pushed his pants down swiftly along with his briefs, his cock springing out, the tip already a bit leaky.

You moved to wrap your hand around his dick, pumping it a few times. Your thumb brushed along his slit, spreading his pre-cum around. He audibly sucked in a breath through his teeth and you leaned forward to take his cock in your mouth. You bobbed your head up and down his length, trying to take him as much  as you can in your mouth, using your hand to cover his remaining length. His hand moved to hold your hair back while he watched you suck him off. His cock hit the back of your throat, causing you to lightly gag, but you continued your movements on him.

“Y/N… my love… fuck…” he murmured, throwing his head back. You hum, the vibration earning a groan from him. You let his cock slip from your mouth and before you could take him in again, he stopped you. “I’d rather cum in you, sweetheart, if that’s okay?”

“That’s okay,” you said and sit up on your bed, patting the space beside you. Seonghwa sat down and you wasted no time in straddling his lap. “I’m on the pill,” you inform him before aligning his dick with your entrance. You leaned in to take his lips in yours while you sunk down on his cock, moaning at the way he stretched you out.

“So fucking tight, so warm,” he muttered against your lips before kissing you again. You gave yourself a minute to adjust, slowly rolling your hips against his before picking up the pace. His hands were wrapped around your body, holding you in place while you bounced on his dick. The sound of skin slapping, heavy breathing, and your moans filled the air and you were grateful that your room was soundproof.

In one swift step, Seonghwa moved you onto your back so he could take control. He thrusted in and out of you in a comfortable pace, your legs moving around his waist. You pulled him even closer, and you felt him go deeper. “Seonghwa…” you cried out his name when he kept repeatedly hitting your sweet spot.

He wet a finger with his mouth before bringing it to your clit, rubbing the nub in up and down motions. Your back arched while he fucked your pussy, and before you knew it, you reached your climax, legs shaking rigorously.

“I’m almost there, sweetheart, hold on,” he said, leaning down to reconnect your lips while he moved faster. In a few more seconds, he stilled, spilling his cum into you, his cock pulsing. He moved slowly, milking himself dry before pulling out and collapsing next to you. The two of you laid on your bed in silence, trying to calm down your heavy breathing.

Seonghwa reached out to cup your face with one hand, leaning down to place a soft kiss on your forehead. He glanced around your room, looking for something.

“Where are your tissues?” he asked.

“In the bathroom,” you replied, sitting up. Before you could get off the bed, he put his arm around your back and under your knees, lifting you up bridal-style while he carried you to the bathroom. You giggled in response, earning a wide grin from him before he set you down in your bathroom. He washed his hands while you peed and cleaned yourself, and you noticed the way his body glistened with a thin layer of sweat. God, he was so beautiful.

You moved to wrap your arms around him from behind, looking at his reflection in the large mirror of your bathroom. He placed his hands over yours, a happy and relaxing sigh leaving him. “How do you feel?”

“I feel great,” you said with a smile. “How do you feel?”

“Rejuvenated.” You chuckled at that.

“Shower with me?” you asked innocently.

How could he ever say no?

[i-amm-mj]

Convenience - Katsuki Bakugo x Reader - Angst

Part 2 here!

You just rejected Katsuki Bakugo´s marriage proposition after 3 years of relationship in front of a full restaurant... The reason? You know he doesn´t love you, at least not as much as you love him.

And you know that because he mentioned twice that he hasn´t contemplated marriage on his short-term plans. The first time he mentioned it, you both were having breakfast. He said he didn´t want to get married, not before he got to the Top 3, and right now he were the fourth, but his agent and the press have been pressuring him to get married and start a family because Deku, the Number Three hero already did, which was helping him to get the approval of the citizens. “There´s nothing better than a man of family to protect civilians” they had said. 

You are sure Deku got married because he wanted to. Everyone noticed how in love he was with his wife when he started to cry after seeing Ochako in the beautiful dress you and the girls helped her choose. And you are sure of what Katsuki thinks too... You know him too well to know that the explosive blonde would never waste the opportunity to compete with Deku and show him that he was better than the “fucking nerd”... and as a girlfriend, you were good with it. You admired Katsuki and were proud of him for being so compromised with his dream. You just never thought that he would use you to achieve it and it hurted you... it hurted you so bad that when he kneeled in front you, you started to cry, but not because of happiness, your crying was a product of sadness. 

In other conditions, Katsuki proposing to you would have been the happiest moment of your life and you would have accepted him without any doubt. You really wanted him to be the man next to you at altar and the father of your children, but it seems that to him you are just a ladder to help him escalate the ranking, and you were not going to take it. You had dreams too, you wanted to do things by and for yourself and he didn´t considerate that at all... so you just left the restaurant without saying a word and headed straight to your apartment to cry even harder to your bestfriend... 

“Are you sure you are not overreacting?” your bestfriend asked through the phone “I mean... you´ve been together for 3 years now...” But no, you weren´t overreacting, you heard him yourself, but you didn´t want to remember the second time he mentioned it and his hurtful words. 

It was one week ago, when you finished your shift and headed to his office just like any other day. His secretary had gone home a few minutes before so there weren´t anyone to announce your presence. When you were ready to enter his office you stopped, there were voices coming from it. You recognized Kirishima and your ex-boyfriend´s.

“C´mon, man” Kirishima said “It´s not that bad. The press said that i look ridiculous in swimsuit and haven´t take it so seriously, they say shit all the time about everyone” 

“Those fuckers have been up my ass for four months since that nerd and Ochako got married...” Katsuki groaned “They even dared to say that marriage could help with my image of an asshole”   

Kirishima laughed “Yeah, that could be true, but you can´t force yourself into a marriage, can you?”

“Not with her at least” he murmured. Was he talking about you? You felt the pain in your chest but tried to ignored it, Katsuki would never talk about you like that, wouldn´t he? 

“Of course not! You couldn´t do that to Y/N” Kirishima protested. 

You then knocked the door, panic crawling your skin at his words: He was talking about you... and you didn´t want to know the rest. Your brain was processing. Did you really hear that? No, it was not possible. You have been together 3 years, he must love you. He wouldn´t say something so crude. You were in denial, yeah, he was just chatting with his best friend, it was just and inocent conversation between two legally single men, the type you would have with your best friend too.  

Ten seconds later he let you in. You fixed yourself and put on the best smile you could offer. 

“Hi, honey” you said “You ready to go home?” When he heard your voice, Katsuki got up from the chair and a grin appeared on his handsome face, matching yours. 

“What´s up, pretty girl?” he walked towards you and gave you a kiss on the lips “I´m ready when you are ready” 

You were now laying on your bed. Remembering. Crying. It was really hard to know that Katsuki Bakugo didn´t love you that much. And you really didn´t get it. You were sure of his feelings for you for a long time now, but all this happened so quickly that it didn´t give you time process it. You weren´t sure why Katsuki would do this to you... 

[rjzimmerman]

Yesterday felt like an earthquake shook the foundations of our climate and environmental laws, followed by a hurricane that scattered the bits all over the place and a wildfire that burned those bits that weren't scattered. I didn't watch any part of yesterday's debauchery, either on TV or streaming or the alerts that pop up on my iPhone or iPad, or read anything (neither national, local or environmental or climate specialized media). I figured most of the crap he did yesterday will be the subject of strategic lawsuits, and much will be tossed out as contrary to legislation or regulation or unconstitutional. In other words, I'll pay attention to the reconstruction, not the destruction. But.......it was still a horse shit day.

This compilation from the Sabin Center for Climate Change Law (of the Columbia Law School/Columbia Climate School) is outstanding. Click/tap on the caption of this post and you'll be able to figure out what happened and sort things out as you want. Just click/tap on the caption and go for it. But if you don't want to do that, here's the compilation, abbreviated. Italicized/red fonts are my addition, either explanatory or editorial.

PUTTING AMERICA FIRST IN INTERNATIONAL ENVIRONMENTAL AGREEMENTS

Withdraw from Paris Climate Agreement

Withdraw from any other agreements made under UN Framework Convention on Climate Change (UNFCCC)

Revoke any financial commitments under UNFCCC

Revoke U.S. International Climate Finance Plan

DECLARING A NATIONAL ENERGY EMERGENCY

Declares national energy emergency, primarily based on high energy prices

Use any lawful emergency authorities “to facilitate the identification, leasing, siting, production, transportation, refining, and generation of domestic energy resources.”

Use Defense Production Act and federal eminent domain authorities

Issue emergency fuel waivers to allow year-round sale of E15 gasoline (E15 is ethanol/gasoline mix)

“Expedite the completion of all authorized and appropriated infrastructure, energy, environmental and natural resources projects”

Use emergency authorities and nationwide permits to grant approvals under Clean Water Act Sec. 404, Rivers and Harbors Act Sec. 10, and Marine Protection Research and Sanctuaries Act Sec. 103 for energy projects

Use emergency consultation processes under Endangered Species Act, and frequent convening of Endangered Species Act Committee, for energy projects

Use construction authority of Army Corps of Engineers

The term “energy” is defined to mean “crude oil, natural gas, lease condensates, natural gas liquids, refined petroleum products, uranium, coal, biofuels, geothermal heat, the kinetic movement of flowing water, and critical minerals” [not wind or solar] (excluding wind and solar is childish and just plain stupid)

UNLEASHING AMERICAN ENERGY

“eliminate the ‘electric vehicle (EV) mandate’ and promote true consumer choice … by terminating … state emissions waivers that function to limit sales of gasoline-powered automobiles; and by considering the elimination of unfair subsidies and other ill-conceived government-imposed market distortions that favor EVs” (the elon musk pacifier....i.e., Tesla)

“safeguard the American people’s freedom to choose from a variety of goods and appliances, including but not limited to lightbulbs, dishwashers, washing machines, gas stoves, water heaters, toilets, and shower heads”

Require all agency heads to review all existing regulations “that impose an undue burden on the identification, development, or use of domestic energy resources – with particular attention to oil, natural gas, coal, hydropower, biofuels, critical mineral, and nuclear energy resources”

Attorney General “shall consider whether pending litigation against illegal, dangerous, or harmful policies should be resolved through stays or other relief”

Revocation of many executive orders

Terminate the American Climate Corps

Council on Environmental Quality must propose rescinding its NEPA regulations (NEPA regulations are the core of our environmental laws)

CEQ to convene working group to expedite permitting approvals

“all agencies must prioritize efficiency and certainty over any other objectives, including those of activist groups that do not align with the policy goals”

“facilitate the permitting and construction of interstate energy transportation and other critical energy infrastructure, including … pipelines”

In NEPA and other permitting reviews, “agencies shall adhere to only the relevant legislated requirements for environmental considerations and any considerations beyond those requirements are eliminated”

Disband Interagency Working Group on the Social Cost of Greenhouse Gases; all of its guidance, recommendations, etc. are withdrawn

Consider eliminating the “social cost of carbon” calculation

EPA in collaboration with other agencies shall submit recommendations to OMB “on the legality and continuing applicability” of the greenhouse gas endangerment finding of 2009 (this is the core concept from the US Supreme Court case that provides the legal basis for greenhouse gas controls)

Immediately pause disbursement of funds appropriated through Inflation Reduction Act or Infrastructure Investment and Jobs Act; review processes for issuing grants, loans, contracts, or any other financial disbursement of appropriated funds

Secretary of Energy to restart reviews of applications for approvals of LNG export projects

Maritime Administration to review approvals for proposed deepwater ports for LNG export

“identify all agency actions that impose undue burdens on the domestic mining and processing of non-fuel minerals and undertake steps to revise or rescind such actions”

UNLEASHING ALASKA’S EXTRAORDINARY RESOURCE POTENTIAL

Expedite permitting and leasing of energy and natural resource projects in Alaska

Prioritize development of Alaska’s LNG potential

End restrictions on development of Arctic National Wildlife Refuge and certain other areas in Alaska

Numerous other actions to facilitate energy development in Alaska

TEMPORARY WITHDRAWAL OF ALL AREAS ON THE OUTER CONTINENTAL SHELF FROM OFFSHORE WIND LEASING AND REVIEW OF THE FEDERAL GOVERNMENT’S LEASING AND PERMITTING PRACTICES FOR WIND PROJECTS

Stop leasing of federal waters for offshore wind

Issue no new or renewed approvals, rights of way, loans for onshore or offshore wind projects

“consider the environmental impact of onshore and offshore wind projects upon wildlife, including, but limited to, birds and marine mammals”

PUTTING PEOPLE OVER FISH: STOPPING RADICAL ENVIRONMENTALISM TO PROVIDE WATER TO SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA

Restart work “to route more water from the Sacramento-San Joaquin Delta to other parts of the state for use by the people there who desperately need a reliable water supply”

“The recent deadly and historically destructive wildfires in Southern California underscore why the State of California needs a reliable water supply and sound vegetation management practices in order to provide water desperately needed there”

DELIVERING EMERGENCY PRICE RELIEF FOR AMERICAN FAMILIES AND DEFEATING THE COST-OF-LIVING CRISIS

Among many other actions, “eliminate counterproductive requirements that raise the costs of home appliances”

“Eliminate harmful, coercive ‘climate’ policies that increase the costs of food and fuel”

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

I’d like to know what your thoughts are on the ramp to the entrance to Collège Françoise Dupont that was built between Seasons 2 and 3.

Remember, from “Heroes’ Day - Part 1”

ALYA: Last year, I wrote an article about equipping public buildings with disabled access. But after seeing Ladybug and Cat Noir going that extra mile every single day, I decided that I, too, can do better. So I got the mayor’s approval to improve facilties so that handicapped kids can actually attend our school.

The stairs from “Origins” to “Heroes’ Day - Part 2”

The stairs in “Chameleon” and onwards

On paper, this is nice. A piece of worldbuilding on par with the akuma alerts like the one in “Riposte”.

However, there are three problems with this:

No one I’ve seen react to the show has noticed or remembered this, since the handicap accessibility is just a throwaway line from Alya that we don’t actually get to see being built.

We know how badly representation is presented in this show, so it’s not like this is getting any brownie points from me.

How the heck is a handicapped student supposed to get up a ramp that steep?

Collège Françoise Dupont's design is based off of Lycée Carnot, a real Parisian school, so I looked to see how the real school handled this issue. After looking at pictures of the school on Google, those steps seem to be a show-only addition. Which is interesting because the show tends to just copy the locations that inspired it. Now I'm wondering if those steps were inspired by something else?

Either way, it's hard to be too critical of the ramp's appearance without knowing the full story. While I fully agree that this is not a functional ramp, we do have to remember that there is a real-world cost associated with adding the ramp to the show. Someone has to design it and add it to the model, so I understand why they did it cheaply. Redesigning the steps into something more elegant and truly functional would have been ideal, but probably impossible to justify budget-wise since it's just a minor visual element. Same goes for animating someone putting in the ramp, which would be even more expensive. I'm honestly surprised that they added the ramp at all!

Now, does that mean that they should be praised for taking the time to put in a slap-dash ramp while never actually acknowledging or using it? No. To me, this feels like a lesser version of their choice to make Marinette a fashion designer while working in a medium that rarely allows her to design anything or even just change her outfit because, once again, budget! Before adding something to your script, you really should think through whether or not you can execute it properly. If you can't, then maybe pick a different path?

To be fair, it's possible that they didn't realize how bad the ramp would look until it was time to animate it. At that point, there's not really a great way to fix the problem. Do you leave the steps as-is even though you've explicitly drawn attention to the accessibility issue or do you be technically faithful to what you promised and put in a non-functional ramp? I don't know. I'm leaning toward "just don't add it," but neither choice is great.

It's even possible they may have only seen the ramp after it was too far in the animation process to revert back to the steps. With most or all of the animation being done out of house (I'm not actually clear on what if anything was done in house prior to season six), they almost certainly weren't seeing every step of the process or having daily reviews of what things were looking like, allowing for detailed input. How much input did they have? No idea! They absolutely got to review story boards or possibly even make them, but between the story board and the final 3D product? No idea.

I looked online for a general guide of the steps involved in working with an outside animation studio and this one generally matches what I know of the process if you want a high-level idea of how this can go and why redoing things may be no small request even if the models already exist. Once a scene is rendered, you have to completely rerender it to make any changes and that's pricey! Sometimes you just have to take a lesser quality product and go with it.

In summary, without knowing more details about what happened here, I don't feel fair being super critical of this, but it's certainly not getting any praise from me.

[thebeastofblackmoor]

not to be dramatic but I am thinking about Clara Thornton again, and I know she's like The Worst and has seriously hurt every single person in her life and is an abusive-workplace-approving, marriage-arranging, cold-mothering, cousin-killing capitalist dog, but seriously let me speculate about young Clara for a while. Under the cut because, predictably, I got swept away in the sweet sweet stream of psychoanalysis.

She's born a bastard child with an unknown father into a very traditional family that presumably cares very much about propriety and pedigree. Not the end of the world, but definitely something she's insecure about and something that puts her on thin ice with the family from the beginning.

And then, when she's 10 (or maybe 5, if you believe the family tree over Wade), her mother dies without ever telling her who or where her father is. She doesn't know where she's going to go.

She ends up living with her aunt and uncle and cousins, which probably sounds really nice, since Mariana and Roger are by all accounts wonderful people, but it's possible that she felt like a burden, out of place in the household. Presumably, they never formally adopted her, and Charlotte and Harper seem to have had a remarkably close relationship that maybe she was always a little left out of.

Regardless, being re-homed as a child--no matter how functional the new household-- is a tremendous trauma. Pretty much all kids will have a lot of anger and grief about what they lost, or feel anger and guilt for allowing their new guardians to "replace" their biological parents, and just generally feel insecure about their future, like the rug is going to be pulled out from under them again.

And it is pulled out from under her! Again and again!

When she's a teenager, the aunt and uncle who took her in are killed in a plane crash, and the three girls are left on their own.

From the line at the end of game, when Clara tells Charlotte's ghost, "You had so much, and I had nothing," we can assume that Clara was not included as a daughter in her aunt and uncle's will. Unfortunate for the obvious monetary purposes, but it also probably serves as sad confirmation that Clara was never really seen as a part of the family.

And as Charlotte is her parents' successor, she undergoes the process of taking over the (extremely successful and lucrative) company, and part of that is setting up the next successor. Maybe because Charlotte thought Clara was the best choice, maybe because she felt bad for her, maybe just because Harper wasn't an adult yet... regardless of the reason, Charlotte set the company up to go to Clara if Charlotte, too, were to pass. This was important to her not because of the money and power, but because it solidified her value to her family. After years of feeling unsure of her place in the family, maybe feeling unwelcome in her own childhood home, this must have been a huge relief, even if it would only ever be symbolic and wouldn't ever come to pass.

And then Charlotte tries to take it away. From explicit evidence (the diary in Charlotte's bedroom), we know that it's because Charlotte thought Clara was in some way unstable or close to snapping (probably a product of her childhood trauma), but if you subscribe to the Jackson-incest theory, there's just that much more to unpack about Clara and how she fits into the Thornton family. Clara does in fact snap. I personally believe Her Interactive's response about Clara not literally striking a match, but instead throwing down a candle in a fit of rage, and then, boom, Charlotte is gone, too.

Obviously, Clara, who has always felt like she was on thin ice with her family, isn't about to go confess that it was her fault or why, but Harper knows. And of course she resents Clara.

But maybe she's willing to give her a chance. It was an accident, after all. Harper has an interesting few lines where she states that Clara could've been there for her after Charlotte died, and that after Charlotte died, that was the end of her family. Helping a younger sibling through grief under the best of outside circumstances is trying, but Clara is also coping with guilt, and the extreme, burdensome responsibility of taking over the company. And something else. If Clara never really felt like part of the family, if she always felt like Charlotte and Harper were the sisters, the best friends, and she was very much just the cousin, she might have also felt slighted that Harper only wants her as a sister after her biological sister is gone. That's just my personal speculation as a possibility; I don't have much to support it, but I think it makes sense.

And no matter whether this was the case or not, eventually things get so bad with Harper that Harper makes an attempt on Clara's life (I have a personal headcanon that Clara provoked her in a purposefully dangerous position as an indirect suicide attempt, but again, unfounded). Harper flees in the aftermath, so now she's gone, too.

I truly believe that all the positive influences in Clara's life were gone when she was learning how to run the company. And the extended family couldn't have been too thrilled about this young, unstable, bastard orphan running things. Thin ice, you know the drill by now, Now, the only way to prove herself to her extended family is to get them that coin.

Anyway, what I'm trying to say with all this is that it's no surprise that she ended up a completely emotionally closed off woman who was focused on the success of the company, no matter what, and that I think she's 100% one of the most tragic and believable villains in the games. Come on, that backstory is delicious.

[gay-jewish-bucky]

After doing a lot of thinking on amazing tags from @mieczyhale (and the courage they always give me to say the things I really want to say), I've decided that I want to be true to my original idea for this post: self-indulgent fantasy.

The main inspiration for this comes from this Hey Alma review of this Cosmo article of 8 Hanukkah-themed sex positions. The review is a great read, and the writer of it, sex blogger and influencer Arielle Kaplan, is a Brooklyn Jew, like Bucky! It made me completely enamoured with the idea of a no-powers AU where Bucky runs a sex blog focusing on his perspective and experiences as a gay, disabled, Jewish man.

To preface, Steve and Bucky always discus what they're mutually comfortable with sharing on the blog, especially when Steve is actively involved. They both get veto power.

He's not overtly explicit or graphic or overly descriptive about his sex life on the blog, that is between him and Steve. Even kvelling to his sister/best friend Becca, he holds back on a lot of specifics. With his blog, he attempts to maintain a level of restraint and privacy. He'll often balance more frank discussions of sex with an educational tone. He's as honest and charming in writing as he is in person, and that draws people in. That charm also drew Steve in.

Bucky's main niche is: -> Accessibility adaptions, products, advice and resources for people with limb differences (Bucky is a congenital amputee in this AU) -> Encouraging Jews to fully embrace the mitzvah of sexual intimacy with their partners and feel comfortable getting kinky with it

Like the author of the Hey Alma review, Bucky comes across the infamous Cosmo article listing Hanukkah-inspired sex acts. While initially excited to try them out with Steve, a bit of festive fun for just the two of them that maybe he can recommend to others, Bucky comes away from it feeling major disappointment. It's painfully cisheteronromative and its lazily put together; some acts on the list don't even have titles, Steven!

Feeling as though the concept has a lot of missed potential, Bucky decides to spend the next year coming up with his own list. For the process, Bucky takes the role of the NJB (Nice Jewish Bottom), with Steve as his willing partner/test subject.

Armed with Bucky's physical journals and polaroid camera for documenting and drafting, the two spend the year overhauling, testing and tweaking the list until it's perfect. They want to ensure that each sex act listed attempts to offer options that open it up to more types of couples. It's a lot of work, with a lot of extracurricular experimental sex that ends up being great fun, no matter how 'well' it goes.

The list ends up becoming Bucky's favourite project for his blog, his pride and joy. When Hanukkah arrives, he proudly shares his version of the list, one night at a time, with a brief, Steve-approved anecdote of their festive fucking experience accompanying it.

If this is adapted to a fanfic, these posts could be followed with a more explicit scene of the full experience that the blog readers don't see.

Here is a proposed, revised Hanukkah Sex Positions list:

1. With Your Dreidel I Will Play Strip Dreidel - Rules Nun: nothing Gimmel: lick one of your partner’s exposed body parts Hay: remove all clothing from your upper or lower half Shin: remove one piece of clothing 2. Miracle of the Oil Give your partner a full body rub down with massage oil, progressing to the prone bone position, combining erotic massage with slow and deep anal or vaginal stimulation 3. Latke But Don’t Touch Both partners are naked, one is tied to a chair, being hand-fed latkes, any oil or toppings that drip onto them must be licked up 4. O, Hannukah Partners have penetrative sex in the candle position with the penetrating and receiving partners in vibrating cock rings (for people with vaginas: use a vibrating clit clamp) 5. SufganiHOT Cover and/or fill your partner’s ass and genitals with strawberry-flavoured lube and eat them out 6. Let’s Gelt it On “Buy” sexual favours of your choosing with gelt as currency 7. Maccabeat It Mutual masturbation while reflecting on the Hanukkah candles 8. Light My Menorah Using the shamash of body-safe (paraffin or soy) Hanukkah candle, the partner bottoming straddles (with or without penetration) the partner topping and drips melting wax on their chest

(you can reblog the list by itself here!)

[i-am-skinny-sir]

Bob Dylan acted out his entire role in ‘A Complete Unknown’ before approving biopic’s script

Producer Peter Jaysen, who was essential in securing the rights to Dylan’s music and story for the film, recently appeared on The Town podcast. During that interview, the producer shared an insight into Dylan’s role in the production, “He met with Jim Mangold multiple times. At one point, they sat there, and they read the entire script out loud, with Jim Mangold reading every part and stage direction, and Bob Dylan only reading lines of dialogue for himself.” 

Not only did Dylan essentially act out the entire film, he also made extensive notes on the script, with Jaysen recalling, “Through that process, [Dylan] sat there writing notes on the script. At the end of the last session with Jim Mangold, he signed the script and said, ‘Go with God.’”

Chalamet himself has confirmed this elsewhere, saying, “Jim has an annotated Bob script lying around somewhere,” he said. “I’ll beg him to get my hands on it. He’ll never give it to me.” It would appear, therefore, that A Complete Unknown has the Bob Dylan seal of approval, with the songwriter a key aspect of the film’s production.

That kind of luxury is not afforded to many biopics, as the subject matter is often deceased or unable to contribute. Dylan’s contributions to A Complete Unknown seem to suggest that the film will be different from a simple run-of-the-mill music biopic, instead getting to the heart of one of America’s defining songwriters.

Ben Forrest via Far Out Mag X

[cierraonline]

That’s So Beautiful

chapter three: that’s so beautiful

Masterlist | previous chapter | next chapter 

LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA 

THE O’CONNELL HOUSEHOLD

"Said out loud," Billie sings, rehearsing the line. Over the past three years, so much has changed for the trio. They went from being ordinary, talented people with individual goals to a signed group under Darkroom Records, unified by a shared mission: to complete their debut album. For Storm, it's even more ambitious, as the label head wants her to create an orchestral version of the album as a standalone project. On top of it all, they're filming a documentary for Apple TV.

"Nice," Finneas compliments, working on digitalizing the orchestral demo Storm created to align it with the pop culture standards of a regular album.

"Said out loud."

"That sounds good."

"Come here," her friend's voice drifts in, almost like a distant echo.

It might be something that shouldn't be...

Said out loud.

"Honestly, I thought that I would be dead by now," Billie sings, as Finneas makes technical sound adjustments. Storm watches closely, trying to absorb his production techniques, unfamiliar yet intrigued. The violins duel with pounding drums, taunting like fighters, until the music transforms into a pulsing bass beat.

"That's dope," Billie nods in approval, clearly pleased with the evolving sound.

What do you want from me?  

Why don't you run from me?  

What are you wondering?  

What do you know?

"Ouuu!"

Why aren't you scared of me?

"I'm so proud of that one," Billie grins, pulling Storm close as they dance, sitting together on the bed.

Why do you care for me?  

When we all fall asleep,  

Where do we go?

"That's cool, right?" Finneas turns his spinning chair to gauge his bandmates’ reactions.

"I'm a genius!" Storm does a little hop, still in Billie’s hold.

"Yes, you are, kitten," Finneas smiles, nodding approvingly.

"This is what I want the album to be called." Billie opens her journal, revealing her title: "When We All Fall Asleep, Where Do We Go?" She shows the camera. "I actually drew this song and had Storm turn it into actual words."

"So far, the process for this album is Billie visualizes the concept, I translate her drawings and emotional descriptions into lyrics," Storm explains, pulling out her own journal, filled with polaroids of Billie’s drawings and next to them are her handwritten lyrics. "Then, during composition, Billie and I choose instruments based on the mood. For ‘Bury a Friend’, we wanted it dark and tense, so we leaned heavily on strings to make it feel like an ancient Roman, dark duel." She reveals her iPad, where she’s recorded each instrumental layer on BandLab. "Once the orchestral part and my layered vocals are done, I hand it off to Finneas to digitalize, replicating it with his setup. Finally, Billie adds her vocals, and we adjust as needed."

"This is the drawing of this song—it's all about monsters under the bed. I want to incorporate wings and do a scene where I drink black liquid, my eyes turn black, and then I bleed black tears."

"That's quite morbid, don't you think?" Storm raises an eyebrow at her friend. "I'm only fourteen. What kind of song do you think I can create that matches that?"

"If I have to, I’ll tape you to the couch and make you watch ‘Nightmare on Elm Street’," Billie smirks.

"That's evil," Storm pouts.

"Anyway," Billie flips the page, smiling as she shares her journal. "Here’s a self-portrait. This is some weird doll, some random guy, a foot. There are drips, and you can decide what they are. There's some bitch. There's a hairy vagina. There, a-- a dick.," she says, giving the camera a tour of her eclectic drawings.

"That's cool."

I can't say no  

I can't say no

Boom, step on the glass,  

Staple your tongue.

"Can we bring it back to the bad dream theme?" Finneas asks, looking for direction.

"The concept is realizing that what you’re experiencing isn’t just a nightmare; it’s actually sleep paralysis," Storm explains. "In songwriting, there’s a rule to hint at the truth without naming it outright. Based on YouTube videos, people with sleep paralysis feel like their eyes are glued open, trapped, only able to see a figure lurking in the corner."

Then my limbs all froze,  

And my eyes won't close.  

And I can't say no, I can't say no.

"Step on the glass, staple your tongue," Billie jumps up, thrilled as she belts out her favorite line.

XXX

“So, this isn’t the first shot,” Billie says to the camera as she films her mother, Maggie Baird, who’s sitting in a chair with Storm sitting on the table positioned in front of her mom. “But this is the angle I want once it zooms out—not fully to the side.”

“What are you doing right now?” Patrick O’Connell questions his daughter as he watches the scene from a distance.

“Shut up!” she quickly remarks, turning her attention back to directing. “And not to the front, just, like… so that…”

“Pepper, uh-uh,” Maggie scolds Pepper, the family dog, as the dog goes to chase after something that catches her eye.

“The chair leg, that’s, like, in the middle. So I want it to start…” Billie tunes out the background noise and continues directing for her upcoming music video.

“Where’s that cat?”

“…with nothing in the background—”

“Give her a gold star.”

“With nothing in the background except… except the white cyc and the white table.”

“Can I ask a question?” Storm raises her hand.

“What?” Billie looks up from the camera view.

“Why am I sitting criss-cross on a table in front of your mom, Mags?”

“Because that’s what you’re going to be doing in the video.”

“Who said I want to be in the video?” The white-haired girl raises her left eyebrow in confusion.

“I did. Now shut up, look possessed, and pass the cup over to my mom,” Billie curtly demands.

“Yes, Mommy,” Storm’s eyes widen in mock shock as she follows the demand.

“Once it gets to this point, I’ll take a drink. Start drinking it. I’m not sure if I want it to stay here while I drink, or if it should come up to me while I’m drinking it—” Maggie sets down the cup, thinking the action was finished, causing Billie to pause mid-thought and redirect her. “Wait, keep drinking. I’m still deciding if I want it. 'Cause I don’t know if I… or—want it to stay diagonal. 'Cause I’m not sure if I want it to…” She stops abruptly, realizing she’s rambling. “What am I even saying?” she exclaims, frustrated.

“That’s what we’re all trying to figure out,” Storm comments, struggling to follow Billie’s verbal brain dump.

“Did I tell you to talk?” Billie turns her head toward her best friend.

“No.” Storm drops her head. “I’m sorry, Mommy Billie.”

“Stop calling me that!” Billie exclaims, a laugh escaping after. “I don’t know if I want to see… Okay, wait. I’ve decided. It’s gonna be here. Once I start drinking, and I’ve been drinking for a second, it’ll come and stay even with this leg in the middle, and exactly parallel to the other leg.” She steps closer to her mother and zooms in on the camera. “Come in so that my face is centered. I think I’ll grab the glass with my left hand so that the shot makes more sense.” Maggie follows her daughter’s vision and adjusts her hand. “Thanks, Mom,” Billie chuckles. “Then you’ll see the black goo disappear as I drink it all. And then Storm will reach over and slowly take the cup away.” Storm, obediently following directions, places the cup back in the center of the table and pauses as a thought strikes her.

“Wait, am I the demon in this video?” She turns to Billie, who’s still recording.

“And then I’ll just look into the camera,” Billie decides to ignore the question and continues with her director’s notes.

“Am I?” Storm repeats.

“And then it’ll stay right there. Don’t zoom! Don’t do any of those flashy moves these bozo filmmakers try to add just to keep things interesting.” Billie’s tone grows stern as she emphasizes her creative control.

“You’re working with a great director,” Maggie interrupts her daughter, not wanting her to get too worked up or overly demanding about the video’s details.

“Shut up!”

“He’s a genius.”

“Yeah, sure, but I’m telling you, don’t be an idiot. Don’t move the camera, and as I look into it, the black will drip from my eyes.”

“I just want to know whether or not I’m the demon in this video?” The camera shifts back to Storm.

“Yes, you are. Happy?” Billie finally answers.

“Why a demon? Can’t I be something friendlier?” Storm gives her best puppy-dog eyes, hoping it’ll sway Billie.

“No.”

“Okay,” Storm sighs.

“Billie, be nice to Stormy,” Maggie chides her daughter, giving Storm, who’s like a second daughter to her, a gentle pat.

“I’m always nice to her. Right, Peaches?”

“N-”

“I’ve got a mini-verse ball with your name on it,” Billie offers a playful bribe, knowing it’ll work.

“Billie treats me so well,” Storm offers a big smile. “She treats me so well I wouldn’t know what to do without her.”

“See?” Billie turns to her mother with a triumphant look.

“That was just sad, Stormy,” Maggie playfully shakes her head. 

XXX

In a scene that felt like a manifestation of their dreams, the girls found themselves on set for ‘When the Party’s Over’. After an hour in makeup applying prosthetics for the black tears Billie envisioned in her video, they were ready to film. On a wide, white podium, Storm sat perched with her mouth agape and head tilted, mimicking possession. Billie, seated in front of her, held a cup of black ink, a crucial prop. Slowly, Storm extended her hand, taking the cup from Billie in a deliberate, practiced motion.

“Put it down. Slowly.” The cup touched the table with a soft clink. “Reset it. We’ll try it again.” After another cut, they repeated the scene because Billie wasn’t sure what expression she wanted for the next shot.

“Cut. Cut, cut, cut, cut.”

“I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to do,” Billie voiced her frustration as they reviewed the playback.

“Keep an eye on the shot when Storm takes the glass, and it’s still in the air before she sets it down. I think you break character when you feel like the camera isn’t on you anymore,” the director began before Billie interjected.

“It’s still capturing me?”

“Yeah, so the idea is for you to stay in character until the camera is solely back on you for your ending expression,” the director explained.

“Got it. But I can’t tell when it’s fully back on me, so if you could call it out, that’d be great.”

“You want me to say, like, ‘Billie camera’?”

“Yeah,” Billie agreed, adding specifics, “or just, ‘Camera’s coming back to you.’ Then I’ll know to get my face ready.”

“Okay. Cool.”

Once again, they went over the scene, and this time they completed it without issues.

“Cut. Yeah.” The crew applauded as the shot concluded, Billie’s face smeared with black ink while Storm remained fixed, staring at her.

“For the next videos, I’m directing them all myself,” Billie declared, walking off set hand-in-hand with Storm as they headed toward her mother.

“What?” Maggie looked at the girls in confusion. “What happened?”

“He just wasn’t it. The video wasn’t it, but I don’t want to make everyone redo everything,” Billie shook her head, running a hand through her hair. “He only took some of the notes I gave him; the rest was his own ‘creative vision’ or whatever.”

“It’s okay, honey,” Storm tried to comfort her friend, hopeful that this was just a minor issue that would fade once the project was finished.

“No, it’s not,” Billie sighed, looking to her mother. “The whole point was for Peaches and me to end forehead-to-forehead, white eyes meeting black eyes. Not with us at a distance, black eyes meeting black eyes. Peaches’ signature look is white eyes—when has anyone ever seen her with black eyes?”

“Did you tell the director you wanted Stormy with white eyes?” Maggie attempted to stay neutral, hoping to salvage the experience.

“Yes!” Billie exclaimed. “He said her white eyes wouldn’t make sense with the black goo. But Storm having black eyes makes even less sense! She looks weird with black eyes—everything about her is practically white except for her skin tone. But no white eyes, yet they’re okay with a red lip?”

“I looked weird?” Storm asked, looking up at Billie.

“No,” Billie sighed, pulling her friend into a hug, resting her head on top of Storm’s. “You looked fine. I’m just aggravated that I took the time to plan this video, and I wasn’t listened to,” she mumbled into Storm’s white hair.

“Call it a lesson learned,” Storm offered optimistically. “Now you know what you like and don’t like, and you’ll know what to do for the next ones.”

XXX

“Record this,” Billie suddenly stood up behind the studio microphone. “Record this. Oh.” She put her hand to her mouth to remove her Invisalign, sucking slightly to keep any drool contained.

“Oh, my God,” Finneas laughed.

“Eww,” Storm grimaced, instinctively touching her own Invisalign.

“The first track of the album should just be that,” Billie laughed, plopping onto her brother’s bed.

“All right, I’ve taken my teeth out. Let’s make an album,” Finneas jokes.

“I’ve taken my teeth out,” the girls laughed.

“My Invisalign has…”

“I have taken out my Invisalign…” the trio chanted together, adding to the joke.

“I have taken out my Invisalign… and this is the album,” Billie grinned. “Peaches, you should take yours out, too.”

“That’d be a spit nightmare,” Storm shook her head, shivering at the thought. 

XXX

"Blocking an intersection during rush hour traffic is not permitted unless you entered the intersection on a green light." Billie’s goal for the year is to get her driver’s license, and she’s very determined—even if it means studying after a two-hour session in Finneas's studio. “Under any circumstances, even if your light is green, unless you have the right-of-way or a green light—it's under any circumstances,” she read aloud. “Because if there’s traffic and it’s stopped, you can’t enter the intersection. That blocks everything. That’s illegal. Yeah, so... no.”

“It’s called ‘don’t block the box,’” Storm chimes in from her spot, lying with her head on Billie’s lap.

“Yes, correct.”

“That’s what they say in New York. ‘Don’t block the box,’” Maggie adds to Storm’s comment.

“That about vagina,” Billie shakes her head. “And how do you know that?”

“You literally won’t stop reading the handbook out loud,” Storm sighs. “I’m pretty sure if I wanted to take the test, I’d pass.”

“You could take it and get your learner’s permit,” Patrick suggests.

“No, thank you. I’m meant to be driven, not the person doing the driving,” Storm says, a little sass showing through.

“You gonna be my passenger princess,” Billie babbles in a baby voice, covering her best friend’s face in kisses.

“Get off me!” Storm laughs, trying to push Billie away, though she’s still lying on her lap.

“Never!”

"I’ve always wanted to drive. I just, like, love cars,” Billie says from the passenger seat of her dad’s car, talking to the camera facing the back seats. Today was the day Billie was officially given legal permission to start learning how to drive, having passed her permit test. “Of course, my mom has a van, my dad has a Mazda, and Finneas has a Honda Fit, so I’m just, like, drowning in losers.”

“Oh, my gosh,” Maggie laughs at her daughter’s comments.

“All I want is a matte black Dodge Challenger.” Billie stops mid-sentence as her phone vibrates in her lap. Picking it up, she sees a text notification from Storm. “Peaches just texted me,” she announces to everyone in the car. Opening the text, she finds a picture. “Ahh, my best friend loves me!” she cheers, bouncing in her seat and tapping the roof of her dad’s car. She turns her phone to show everyone the picture Storm sent.

“She bought me gifts, decorated my room with balloons, and I’m pretty sure those are Polaroids of us hanging from the ceiling,” Billie gushes, turning the phone back to herself to admire the picture.

“That’s so beautiful,” Maggie smiles, clearly appreciating the special friendship her daughter shares, something many people long for.

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