#Switzerland wall art
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photographydickherman · 1 year ago
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swisscomicart · 1 year ago
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Collect your favourite Swiss prints accessories from our Swiss design collection. We've got everything from the classics to the new. Visit our official website for more information.
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hipstafootprint · 2 days ago
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Countdown · Zurich 2024
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Villa M, Mies, Switzerland,
Designed by Leopold Banchini
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diemelusine · 6 months ago
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View of Nidau Castle from the south, Switzerland. https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/User:Pierre_Bona
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drsilasaslan · 10 days ago
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Industrial Charm in Berglistüber A glimpse into the functional beauty of industrial design, featuring a light fixture and a slightly ajar door on a concrete wall. silasAslan.com
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journeyswithmaureen · 1 year ago
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Inside Engelberg Monastery surrounded by an old stone entrance
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funny-gift · 25 days ago
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mysafehaneul · 1 year ago
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AQUAMARINE: EPILOGUE
April Showers (M)
Dedication: For my girls, who like like their men secure and obsessed.
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JEON WONWOO X READER
WORDS: 14k+
SERIES MASTERLIST
GENRE: ARRANGE CONTRACT MARRIAGE AU! ENEMIES TO LOVERS!
FLUFF!FLUFF!AND SMUT (I THINK WE HAD ENOUGH ANGST FOR 8 CHAPTERS)
A/N: So, I guess this is it huh? well Happy Reading!!
4 years ago Zurich, Switzerland KIU
Noella entered the lecture room, a spacious gallery-style classroom with long wooden benches and rows of paintings adorning the walls. The large windows bathed the room in natural light, and it felt more like an art gallery than a typical lecture hall. She quietly pushed the door open and entered, the soft creak of the hinges barely audible over the lecturer's voice.
The professor at the front of the room, Jeonghan, continued with his lecture on the definition of meaning during the Enlightenment era. He stood confidently in front of the class, with a relaxed yet engaging demeanour. His dark hair was neatly styled, and his glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, giving him an air of intelligence.
As Noella found a seat at the back of the room and settled in, her eyes met Jeonghan's for a brief moment. There was a flash of recognition, but he didn't let it disrupt the flow of his lecture. With a warm smile and a nod, he acknowledged her presence before returning to his discourse.
"During the Enlightenment," he began, his voice both soothing and authoritative, "philosophers like Voltaire and Rousseau grappled with the concept of meaning. What does it mean to lead a meaningful life? Is it found in the pursuit of knowledge, happiness, or something more profound?"
The students listened intently as Jeonghan paced gracefully across the front of the room. His words were thought-provoking, encouraging his students to consider the philosophical inquiries of the past and apply them to their own lives.
She couldn't help but be captivated by his lecture, not only because of the subject matter but also because of the way he presented it. She had known Jeonghan for years, and seeing him in his element was both familiar and awe-inspiring.
He continued, "Voltaire famously stated, 'Judge a man by his questions rather than his answers.' This is a profound notion because it encourages us to continuously seek understanding. In an era marked by intellectual growth, philosophers challenged the status quo and sought to unravel the mysteries of existence."
The students absorbed the wisdom he shared, their eyes reflecting the curiosity sparked by his teaching.
Jeonghan, with his usual eloquence, continued his lecture, delving into the void that exists within humanity, a craving for meaning that often goes unnoticed. He cited Nietzsche's concept of this void, the insatiable longing for purpose that some fill immediately with their surroundings and become fervent devotees of a cause, never realizing the hollowness they've concealed. "The process of discovering that void for the first time," he explained, "is a pivotal moment in our lives. It's when we come to the stark realization that something is lacking in that department."
As he spoke, Jeonghan gestured passionately, his words resonating with the students. "Albert Camus presents us with an ultimate example of struggle and suffering, only to have our efforts amount to nothing. This is a metaphor for life, for Camus. We exist in a vast, inconceivably large, and complex universe, and with every step we take, we're battling against a tidal wave of forces that could end our existence at any moment."
He paced back and forth at the front of the class, emphasizing the challenges of human existence. "We live through good times and endure bad ones, all while accepting the reality that the universe, in all its grandeur, couldn't care less about our individual actions. It's true that in a humanistic lens, what we do matters within the microcosm of our lives, but on the universal scale, we're a mere speck on an ordinary galaxy. The sun will eventually explode in 5 billion years, and our existence will come to a definitive end."
Jeonghan's eyes scanned the room, and he implored his students to consider the meaning of all their suffering, effort, and sacrifice. "Where does it all lead? At the end of the day, we're like Sisyphus, condemned to push the rock up the hill only for it to roll back down, forcing us to begin again. But in our condemnation, we should strive not to agonize over the process but to find enjoyment in the act of pushing the boulder as far as we can."
He paused, his gaze intense, and then continued. "The experience and reflection come into play. What we're reflecting upon may appear meaningless to outsiders, but when we are experiencing it, it means the world. Yet, at what point do we realize it's all meaningless? It's the moment we stop being present, take a step back, and question why we're doing this in the first place. We look around and condemn it all as meaningless. This is where the concept of meaning comes into play."
Jeonghan raised a finger, emphasizing the contrast between reflection and lived experience. "When we reflect, we stop doing whatever we're engaged in, and we use our capacity for reason to ask questions. But it's important to recognize how presumptuous this entire process is. We apply this tool of reason to the universe, attempting to derive conclusions, yet what if the reason isn't the right tool for the job?"
He took a deep breath before continuing. "Reflections and reason, as human capacities, may not be the right tools to determine the meaning or meaninglessness of the things we do. What if, instead, we focus on the task at hand, to immerse ourselves fully in what we care about? Reflection is valuable, and a necessary part of life, but it can lead to diminishing returns. If you reflect too much, the only thing it'll do is deteriorate the quality of your lived experience."
As the lecture neared its conclusion, Jeonghan's eyes sparkled with a sense of purpose and resolution. "Embrace the absurdity of the universe, and then immerse yourself fully in the tasks you care about. Just like Sisyphus, who made the rock his own, we should learn to love what we do. Appreciate the grooves in the rock, the hindrances in your path, and the patterns to success. Love what you're doing without constantly pondering if it will have any meaning. After all, if the ultimate doom is inevitable, if everything will cease to exist, why not live and die doing what you love and believe in? Enjoy every moment of pushing your own boulder, and do it with passion and determination."
With a final nod and a warm smile, Jeonghan concluded his lecture on the meaning of life during the Enlightenment era.
As the students packed their bags, Jeonghan left them with a parting comment. "Remember, class, your term papers are due at the end of this week. And my sincere condolences to any grandparents, uncles, and aunts who are going to meet their end at 11:59 on the 29th."
The room filled with a mixture of laughter and groans, the students either appreciating Jeonghan's dark humor or dreading the impending deadline. Noella gathered her belongings, slinging her purse over her shoulder, and made her way down to Jeonghan's desk.
"That was impressive, Dr. Yoon," she complimented him with a warm smile.
"Thank you, but what brings you here?" Jeonghan inquired.
"Oh, the dean just invited me to give a speech for the department," she explained. "Our company is going to join one of the on-campus recruiting events, so I thought I'd see what you've been up to."
Jeonghan nodded in understanding. "Ah, that sounds interesting. Want to catch up over lunch?"
Noella’s laughter rang through the classroom. "Of course, it's not like we didn't meet for dinner last night." The two of them shared a friendly chuckle before leaving the classroom.
........
........
Present day.
London.
The morning light filtered through the window, casting a soft glow in the hotel suite. Empty bottles still littered the room, and discarded shirts and pants were strewn across the furniture. Wonwoo slept soundly on the bed, his deep slumber undisturbed even by the honking of cars on the street below. The sound was just background noise until it eventually stirred him. His hand reached out, searching for you, but the spot next to him was empty. A sense of panic rushed through him, and he jolted awake.
He looked around the room, his eyes darting from one corner to another. The droplets of tears on his pillows from the night before served as a painful reminder. "No…" he groaned, his heart sinking as he believed that you had left him.
As the ensuite washroom doors opened, you walked out, dressed in the clothes you had worn to Jeonghan's wedding. Your hair was still damp as you towel-dried it. You stood in front of the mirror, unaware of the emotional turmoil Wonwoo had just experienced.
However, his reaction was quite different from what you expected. Wonwoo dashed from the bed, letting the quilt fall to the floor, and enveloped you in a tight hug from behind. "I thought you left," he confessed.
"Shall I pinch you to make sure I'm still here?" you teased, but he remained mostly silent, holding onto you. As you began to apply moisturizers to your arms and neck, you spoke again. "Babe, I appreciate the affection, but can you please shower? We have to pick up Noel and then head to the airport."
You looked up at the mirror to catch his reflection. His hand was nestled against your neck as if he were sleeping while standing. You couldn't help but question the abundance of bottles in the room, asking, "By the way, why are there so many bottles?"
Wonwoo cleared his throat, a bit flustered. "You're right; I should shower."
With that, he planted a kiss on your clothed shoulder and headed to the shower, leaving you to roll your eyes at his antics. As you got ready for the day ahead, you couldn't help but think about the significant conversation you'd had with him the previous night
The previous day, you had called Jeonghan to assure him that you were safe. After shouting and sobbing at you for 15 minutes finally left for his Honeymoon and left Noel with Leila for the night. You and Wonwoo had spent the evening talking, staring from your whole trajectory of Noella and Joshua to Nikolia's death threats.
Now, in the hotel suite, you finished putting on your shoes when Wonwoo emerged from the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. He began to dress in a black suit, and as you watched him, your eyes couldn't help but linger on the marks your nails had left on his defined back. You quickly looked away, back to the task at hand.
After buttoning and tucking in his shirt, Wonwoo rolled up his sleeves, leaving his veined forearms exposed. You picked up your earrings when he softly called your name, his voice tinged with a hint of nervousness.
"Hmm," you replied, struggling to clasp the earring lock.
Wonwoo walked closer, stopping beside you. Both of your reflections were visible in the full-length mirror. When you finally managed to clasp the lock, you let out a sigh of relief and reached for the other one when he took your left hand in his and turned you to face him. His thumb traced soothing patterns on your knuckles as he began to speak.
"I know our beginning was far from perfect, but even with its imperfections, it has given me something more than I could wish for. Today, as we walk out of this room, I want us to step into a new beginning—a future where there are no more secrets, no more contracts, just us and Noel. I know I don't deserve you, but I'm willing to humble myself before you."
Wonwoo then got down on one knee, and your eyes widened. A soft gasp escaped your lips as he continued, "I will try every day to prove myself worthy of you if you'll have me."
With trembling hands, he unclenched his fingers to reveal your wedding ring. "Wonu…" you whispered, a lump rising in your throat.
His eyes glistened with tears as he spoke from his heart. "I don't know when it happened, y/n. There were times when I even detested people who changed entirely when they entered a relationship. After Eleanor, I didn't bother seeking that kind of connection. But here I am, on my knees, asking my wife to let me love her, to allow me into her heart. Will you, y/n?"
The tears blurred your vision, but you managed to nod vigorously. Wonwoo carefully slid the ring onto your finger, and as he stood up, he immediately pulled you into a tight hug, overwhelmed with emotions.
As you and Wonwoo walked out of the suite and into the parlor, you were slightly surprised to see four tall, equally buff, and slightly intimidating men standing in the middle of the room. You glanced at your husband with a quizzical expression, and he gave your back a gentle push, saying, "Don't worry, they are your and Noel's new bodyguards."
You blinked in astonishment and turned to look at the four men who were still standing in a respectful bow. "Wonu, I don't need bodyguards," you protested.
Wonwoo gestured to the men to rise and wait outside before addressing your concerns. "Y/n, I am well aware that you're capable of protecting yourself, but I'm not taking any risks or having any discussion on this matter. Please, darling, humor me. You won't even notice them. They've been following you and Noel since the day you arrived."
You hesitated, wanting to argue further, but his words made sense. "But it looks awkward to walk around with guards like…"
"Y/n, although I'm gravely grateful to Noel's grandfather, I can't forget or forgive what his son did," Wonwoo declared with determination. "You have to realize that you're not just an L/N anymore; you're a Jeon now. I'll be damned if I even allow a fly to harm my wife."
Before you could say anything in response, Wonwoo sealed his statement with a tender peck on your lips and began walking toward the exit, your hands clasped together as you followed him.
........
.........
Nikolia found himself in a disorienting darkness, tied securely to a cold, unforgiving chair. He struggled to grasp any sense of time, all memory of the past hours and days escaping him. After his arrest, he had been transported to an undisclosed location, but he had no way of knowing for how long he had been in this inky abyss. The van that brought him here had taken a bizarre turn into the unknown, and that's when the men had covered his face, shrouding him in a suffocating blackness.
His desperate cries and frenzied curses echoed in the void, but they were swallowed by the oppressive silence that clung to him like a shroud. The journey had been a nightmare, a cacophony of fear and dread. When the vehicle finally stopped, his captors grabbed him and dragged him into this unseen space.
Suddenly, the door creaked open, and he heard footsteps approach. His heart raced as the men, with hands like steel, grabbed him and removed the blindfold that had been his only connection to the world. A rush of blinding light stabbed at his eyes, and he squinted, disoriented, and dazzled.
Nikolia's first instinct was to struggle against the restraints that bound him to the chair. "Let go of me, you bastard! You're messing with the wrong man here, All I need is one phone call and your whole family is done for" he yelled, the defiance in his voice strained with anger and frustration.
Wonwoo, took a languid drag from his cigarette, his eyes hidden beneath a veneer of cold detachment. "Am I?" He arched one meticulously groomed eyebrow as a henchman in the room landed a brutal punch on Nikolia's face, sending shockwaves of pain coursing through his body. Blood sprayed from his mouth as the impact made his jaw rattle.
As the coppery tang of blood mingled with the acrid scent of tobacco, Wonwoo continued, seemingly unperturbed." you know Nikolia, when I first saw you in the court I understood what a weakling you are, tch, such a waste of a pretty face" Wonwoo tilted his head to the side, as though pondering an intriguing conundrum. "You didn't even have the caliber to fight like a man. If you wanted the money all you had to do was come and beg us"
Nonchalantly, Wonwoo discarded his cigarette and crushed it underfoot, further emphasizing his indifference to Nikolia's suffering. "But no," he continued, rising from his seat with calculated elegance, "you had no go and get yourself get fucked over by your own stupidity"
Wonwoo seized Nikolia by the hair, his grip merciless, and forced him to meet his unrelenting gaze." you should've known your enemy before messing with them, if you get the chance from all the bending, ask who Jeon bo Hyuk was" With those ominous words, Wonwoo swung a heavy fist, striking Nikolia squarely across the cheekbones. The sudden, blinding pain sent white spots dancing before Nikolia's eyes. "That's for even thinking about harming my wife" He gasped as the warmth of blood gushed from his nose.
For a brief moment, Wonwoo stood above him, an imposing figure against the harsh light, before he delivered another devastating blow," and that's on behalf of Noel" he declared, his voice laced with cold fury.
The room filled with the dissonant sounds of Nikolia's choking gasps and labored breathing.
The man in the black suit handed Wonwoo a towel, while behind Nikolia, a maniacal laugh and a series of painful coughs echoed. Nikolia's laughter, punctuated by bloodied gums, grated on the nerves of everyone present, "You're gonna regret this bell boy"
Without turning to face him, Wonwoo retorted, "And what are you going to do, tattle to Yunho?"
Nikolia's eyes widened in alarm as Wonwoo turned to the man in the black suit and commanded, "Return him to Richardson, make sure to tell him to treat him with so much care that he regains his faith in god again"
With a murmured "Yes, boss," the men swiftly began the process of transporting Nikolia out of this nightmarish confrontation.
"And to think," Nikolia sneered, even in his bloodied and beaten state, "that bitch has you wrapped around her finger. I guess her pussy has that effect I still rememb--""
Before he could complete his sentence, Wonwoo's fist struck with unrestrained force, and the chair, still bound to Nikolia's body, fell to the ground. The world swirled into a whirlpool of darkness as Nikolia's consciousness slipped away. Wonwoo gazed down at the battered and broken Nikolia, his voice laced with icy authority. "Rule of the thumb, you keep my wife's name out of your mouth," he declared, the weight of his words bearing down upon the man.
(A/N: Dude why didn't I made wonwoo mafia opens another wip )
........
........
One Month later
The evening of the 75th Anniversary gala was marked by an air of anticipation as you sat in a plush chair, the skilled hands of your makeup artist, Ashton, expertly crafting your hair into a glamorous masterpiece. You held a phone call with Racheal, going over the final details for the night.
"Make sure no more than five interviews," you instructed, your voice firm.
"That's done," Racheal confirmed promptly. "Each will get 2 minutes, and no personal questions."
"Good," you replied with a nod. "Are you there yet?"
Racheal's voice sounded through the phone, "No, just about to reach."
"Okay, then drive safe," you told her before ending the call. The preparations were in full swing as you adorned a stunning red-plated off-shoulder cape dress with a high slit. The fabric draped elegantly around your form, exuding an air of regal sophistication.
Just as you were getting ready, there came a discreet knock at the door. Chan, who had once stood as a symbol of discord between you and Wonwoo, now entered the room, holding a blue box in his hands. While things had improved between him and Chan, the tension still lingered his presence often an uncomfortable reminder of past misunderstandings. Wonwoo was prepared to go so far as to fire Chan in his act of contrition. However, you intervened, reminding him, "Why should someone else suffer for something you initiated?"
"Mr. Jeon sent you this," Chan explained, "and expressed his desire to see you wear it tonight."
You excused everyone from the room, leaving only Ashton behind, and Chan proceeded to open the box with a sense of reverence. Revealed within was a necklace that bore a stunning piece of history—an emerald and diamond creation that had once belonged to Catalina the Second of Russia. The gem sparkled with a rare, captivating beauty that made even Ashton gasp in awe.
"This is from the Anakami collection, part of the royal vault of Russia," Chan informed you, his tone respectful and impressed.
You nodded, your knowledge of the piece shining through. "From Catalina the Second."
Chan's understanding smile mirrored his acknowledgment of your profound familiarity with the necklace. Your appreciative smile revealed your thanks, and you gestured for Ashton to place the exquisite piece around your neck.
As the necklace adorned your neckline, he couldn't help but compliment, "Indeed, your husband has an eye for a gem."
Thanking Chan for his delivery, you expected him to take his leave, but he remained in place. After Ashton left the room, Chan went into a polite bow. You looked at him and turning back to your reflection with a more somber expression, you addressed him.
"Get up, Chan," you said gently, "the workers should not apologize for their loyalty to their boss. You did what any subordinate would do. I am not angry with you."
Chan's smile returned, and he bowed once more, an expression of gratitude and humility in his eyes. As he prepared to leave the room, you stopped him with a final piece of advice.
"Chan," you began in a soft but firm tone, "next time, try to keep your experiences and advice to yourself. Hmm?"
"Duly noted, madam," Chan replied with an appreciative nod. The understanding between you felt like a small step toward restoring a sense of normalcy to your relationship.
You were nearly ready, as Ashton entered again to finish the final touches.
The grand gala was a spectacle of opulence and glamour. The chandeliers hung from the ceiling, their crystal facets glistening in the soft, warm light. Servers in impeccable uniforms weaved through the crowd, offering trays of exquisite hors d'oeuvres and champagne flutes. The air was filled with the clicks of cameras and the hum of hushed conversations as guests from various elite circles, including A-listers, entrepreneurs, and influential individuals from both sides of your families, mingled and celebrated.
The event's announcer took center stage, standing beside the grand stairs, and her voice resonated through the room as all eyes turned toward her. "Ladies and gentlemen, I welcome you all to the grand celebration of 75 years of L/N Diamonds and Special Stones. We gather here to honor the visionary who started it all 75 years ago with his hard work, dedication, and passion for a woman's best friend. What makes this evening even more special is that it is also a celebration in honor of the newlyweds, the heiress of the L/Ns, and the prince of JJ Group, Jeon Wonwoo."
The crowd erupted into applause, and Wonwoo, surrounded by business partners, raised his glass, receiving smiles and nods from those around him.
The announcer continued, "Now, without further ado, I would like to call upon the stage the star of the evening, the diamond heiress and the CEO of Fareed Switzerland, Y/n L/N."
All eyes turned to the top of the grand stairs, and the clapping of the guests filled the hall. You descended the stairs gracefully, your red cape trailing behind you, giving you the appearance of a character from a classic film. The necklace adorning your neck, a magnificent royal heirloom from Russia, captured everyone's attention.
Everything seemed to slow down for Wonwoo as he watched you descend the stairs. He was struck by the realization of his incredible luck in being married to such a remarkable woman. His chest swelled with pride and second-guessed his luck.
As you reached the stage and adjusted the microphone, you smiled at the host and began your address, "Thank you, Lana, for that lovely introduction. Although the second half was lost to me because I was busy thinking about how not to trip on the stairs."Laughter rippled through the crowd. "Since I'm not a big fan of long speeches, I'll keep this address short and sweet. This evening is not about celebrating L/N Diamonds and Fareed but about those who dare to dream and the realists who support their dreamers, like Mr. Locke, Mr. Kim, and Mr. Jeong, who are present here this evening."
The spotlight fell upon their table, and you acknowledged them with a nod as they raised their glasses. "They started this journey with my grandfather 75 years ago, and, most importantly, to the backbone of this foundation who are present here—from the miners to the designers." You paused a round of applause resonated through the crowds, "When I was young, my grandfather would often be stuck in his office, spending hours analyzing the diamonds. He talked to me passionately about their history."
You continued, "One day, in my naivete, I asked, 'Grandpa, who do you love more, the diamonds or Grandma?' It might seem like a silly question, but he turned to me and said, 'Your grandma.'"
You recalled his words, "How come? You rarely spend time with her." He laughed and replied, "Because when I make a bracelet she likes, the smile on her face and the pride with which she wears that piece make me feel like she's carrying my love with her everywhere she goes. Love is never constant. Some days can be bad, and some good, but we do not live in days; we live in memories. These diamonds remind us of why we choose to wake up every day and be with the person we love."
You expressed your gratitude for the past 75 years, "For the last 75 years, we have not only been making diamonds but tokens of love that eternalize our memories—resilient, forever cherishable, and bound by legacy. So, let's raise our glasses to the 75 years of trust from our customers and the passion of our designers.
To my parents, who taught me love, to my son, who reminds me of how to love."
Your eyes found Noel standing with your father-in-law, holding his hand just a few feet away from the stage. Your eyes find Wonwoo's across the room when you smile as you address your husband, "And to my husband, who has shown me what it feels like to be loved."
The entire room joined in, raising their glasses and echoing your words, "To love."
Wonwoo mouthed the words, "To love," as he emptied his flute, a contented smile on his face.
(the angel on the left "This is getting too fluffy"
angel on the right "It is an epilogue it is supposed to be fluffy")
The music resumed, and you gracefully stepped down from the stage, leaving Rachel to deal with the waiting media. After about 20 minutes of enduring half-baked sexist questions and borderline invasions of privacy regarding your marriage and the recent conflict, you finally returned to the party and began greeting the guests one by one.
On the other side of the party, Rachel had finished her duties and decided to take a break at the bar. She ordered a drink and was savoring the moment when someone approached her. There was a slight hesitation in his demeanor, but he continued, "Shall I give you my card? I think you're going to need an attorney tonight."
Rachel furrowed her brows in confusion, asking, "Why?" Lowering his voice a bit, he replied, "Because you're dressed to kill." She rolled her eyes and smiled behind her glass. "Come on, it wasn't that bad," he defended.
"I didn't say anything," she replied, looking up at him. Their eyes locked, and Rachel felt hers drifting down to his lips. Unconsciously, she bit her lip and shook her head to snap out of her trance. That's when Jungkook cleared his throat and began, "Listen, Rach, about the other day…"
Rachel cut him off, saying, "It's alright. It doesn't matter. It was just a kiss. We met by chance, had an argument about wines, and then one thing led to another. It was a mistake, so let's forget about it, okay?"
Jungkook felt a pang of rejection, something quite unfamiliar to him in his experiences with women. He clenched his hands inside his pockets and wanted to say he didn't want to forget it, but before he could, a server interjected. "Excuse me, Ms. Lee. Madam Y/n is calling for you." Following the server's indication, Rachel spotted you standing in a group and beckoning her over with a subtle gesture as your eyes met. She got down from the stool, took her drink, and told Jungkook, "It was nice meeting you, Jungkook. Take care," before leaving him.
Jungkook, feeling a strange wave of melancholy, needing some air, took a glass of scotch and walked towards the balcony.
As you saw Rachel approaching, you gently pulled her to your side and introduced her, "Nora, Minny, gentlemen, this is Rachel Lee, currently the Managing Director at L/N's. Rach, this is the board of Fareed." They all exchanged greetings and shook hands, sharing a few words and smiles. You continued, "People, I hope you all treat Rachel well. She's my nomination for the COO candidate for Fareed."
Rachel could feel her eyes widen in astonishment, and her mouth slightly opened, but she quickly schooled her features. Bubbles of excitement tingled through her, just like they did when she kissed Jungkook. She stopped herself from following that train of thought and focused on answering Minny's questions.
.......
You were engrossed in a conversation with Mr. and Mrs. Kwon, Joon-hee's in law's, who was complimenting your exquisite necklace Mrs. Kwon, leaning towards you with a sly smile, said, "Thank you, I'm glad you both could make it. I thought you'd be in Japan."
Mr. Kwon nodded in agreement as his wife continued, "We were, but then Sunmi insisted we attend, especially since we didn't get the chance to meet her daughter-in-law due to your wish for a quick and private wedding."
You responded with a thin-lipped smile and a nod, but before you could reply, a familiar arm wrapped around your waist, enveloping you in a comforting scent.“There you are sweetheart, Sorry I am late, I was looking everywhere for you” Wonwoo smiled down at you and planted a soft kiss on the corner of your lips.
"Evening, Mr. and Mrs. Kwon. How have you been?" Wonwoo greeted them.
Mrs. Kwon interjected, "We're fine, as much as age allows us to be. I was just telling your wife that her preference for private meetings can sometimes leave a bad impression regarding close relationships."
You were about to respond, but Wonwoo beat you to it. He explained, "Well, it was my wish to have a private wedding. I didn't want to waste plates, where mouths would be busy chatting instead of chewing food."
Mrs. Kwon's expression soured, and she clicked her tongue against her teeth. On the other hand, Mr. Kwon smiled and reached out to shake hands with Wonwoo. "How are you, young man? Why don't I see you around the club anymore? You know, Y/n, he'd give even Matsuyama a run for his money."
Wonwoo gave a humble shake of his head. "Mr. Kwon is too kind. Well, if it's okay with you, may I steal my wife?"
Mr. Kwon let out a hearty laugh and said, "Sure, young man."
Wonwoo swiftly pulled you away from the couple, and as you walked side by side, he leaned in and whispered in your ear, "You look absolutely gorgeous."
You teased back, "You don't look half bad yourself." The subtle flashes of cameras continued as you asked about his interviews. He gave you a tired look that conveyed his reluctance to discuss it at the moment.
As you both approached your parents, Noel ran to you and hugged your legs. "Baby boy, are you having fun?" You asked, and he nodded, pointing towards Somi. "Can Somi and I go to the chocolate fountain?"
"Sure, why not," you gestured for them to follow Tham, As he waved goodbye to your dad.
With the kids occupied, you talked to your parents, complimenting both your mother and mother-in-law on their incredible planning and coordination. Your parents were going to Italy for a bit of business that your father had, followed by a leisure trip to Sicily.
As you were about to move on to greet other guests, Lana took the microphone and said, "Although the average wedding reception occurs within an hour of the ceremony this one took 3 months" subtle chuckle from the guest "upon the suggestion of Mrs. Sunmi Jeon herself, I would like to request Mr. and Mrs. Jeon to bestow the honor of their first dance."
You looked around, a bit surprised, as all eyes were on you, anticipating your dance. You were about to shake your head in refusal when Wonwoo extended his hand towards you, his eyes locked onto yours. "May I have this dance, Mrs. Jeon?" he asked with a charming smile.
You looked at his outstretched hand and then met his gaze. There was a shared understanding, a connection that ran deeper than words could express. With a nod and a graceful curtsy, you accepted his invitation. You placed your hand in his, feeling his strong, warm grasp, and he pulled you gently towards him.
The crowd hushed in anticipation as the first notes of the waltz enveloped the room. You and Wonwoo moved together as if you were the only two people in the world. The dance floor felt like a world of its own, a place where only the two of you existed.
Your red dress swirled around you, its cape fluttering in harmony with the rhythm of the music. Wonwoo's tuxedo looked impeccable, and the soft colors of your outfits complemented each other perfectly. With each step and twirl, you moved as one, your eyes locked, and smiles shared.
On the balcony, Jungkook stood gazing at the night sky, an air of melancholy surrounding him. The soft glow of the stars above painted a serene backdrop to his contemplation. The world seemed to move on around him as he lost himself in his thoughts.
A voice broke through his reverie as Joonhee opened the door and stepped out onto the balcony. She had a teasing tone in her voice as she asked, "Hey, you aren't planning on jumping, are you?"
Jungkook didn't turn to look at her. He replied with a hint of wry humor, "Not without leaving a testimony that if I'm found dead, the first person to look for is you."
She walked over to him and stood by his side, her back against the railing, and her elbows resting on it. Curiosity laced her words as she asked, "You're wearing the same expression you had when we had to put Dora down."
Jungkook offered a rueful smile, reminded of their first horse, and said, "Not really, just thinking about a few things. Where's your husband?"
She glanced towards the hall where you and Wonwoo were dancing. "He's near the chocolate fountain with the kids."
Jungkook let out a dry chuckle. "Do you ever think that you're raising two kids, not just one?"
Joonhee smiled and nodded. "Every day."
A comfortable silence settled between them as they both leaned against the railing, watching the two of you dancing inside the hall. Eventually, Joonhee began to speak, her words filled with wisdom. "I've learned in life that if something doesn't work out, it means something better is waiting around the corner. You just have to be patient."
Jungkook clicked his tongue and voiced his doubts. "Sometimes certain things don't get better with time. They always take a part of you with them, and you're left incomplete, no matter what you do to fill the void."
Joonhee offered her perspective. "Then maybe you're filling that void with the wrong things." Both of them turned their gaze towards you and Wonwoo, who were concluding your dance.
"Remember when Eleanor left, oppa?" Joonhee hummed, her thoughts drifting back. "He was nothing but an empty shell, always working, never laughing, and not even attending the same places as she did. I hated her for what she did." She turned to Jungkook. "But that didn't stop you, did it?"
Jungkook shrugged, nonchalantly. "I can't be bothered about her. Her husband is an important client of my firm, and you know how it works. We don't really have a choice."
Joonhee nodded thoughtfully. "Look at him now. You know, Jungkook, things do get better with time. But if you find something you really want, then you have to fight for it."
Jungkook questioned with a hint of uncertainty, "What if fighting makes it worse?"
"Then let it go," Joonhee advised. "If it's meant to be, it will be." They watched as you and Wonwoo concluded your dance, finding solace in the knowledge that sometimes, life had its own way of bringing better things when least expected.
As the final notes of the music filled the air, you and Wonwoo came to a graceful stop, and the room erupted in applause.
.......
As the night wore on and the party grew livelier, the atmosphere became even more festive after the dinner. You had just sent Noel home and Wonwoo was engrossed in conversation with some old college friends, their laughter echoing from the other side of the room. you found yourself near the bar, waiting for your drink. From amidst the crowd, you spotted a familiar face approaching, and a smile of recognition crossed your lips as he stood in front of you.
"It's been a while," he said as he slid next to you.
You nodded and replied, "Three years, I suppose. How have you been, Mr. Choi?"
Seungcheol grinned, "Y/n, please. I thought we were friends." He tilted his head, and you nodded in agreement.
"I've been good, just returned from Denmark," you told him.
"I see. And how's Mr. and Mrs. Choi?" he asked.
"Same old, playing the Cupid," you replied, and both of you shared a laugh.
"I would say you could relate, but here you are, married, leaving your comrade all alone," he said with a mock frown.
"Oh, come on. You know there was a limit to how far we could keep up the ruse. My mother caught on before the third date," you reminded him.
Wonwoo couldn't help but smile as he took a sip from his glass, listening to his friend's humorous recollection of their past swimming adventures, including the infamous incident where they had stolen his clothes, leaving him standing naked. However, his laughter concealed as His gaze wandered around the room and eventually landed on you, near the bar, sharing a hearty laugh at something Seungcheol had just said. Wonwoo's eyes were fixed on you, his brow furrowed in thought as he tried to place where he had seen Seungcheol before.
He watched as you laughed freely with someone else, your joy radiating from you like a warm glow. A tinge of unease settled in his chest as he realized that he couldn't easily divert his attention from the sight of you both having such a good time together.
"That's a cute kid," Seungcheol commented as you showed him pictures of Noel from Jeonghan's wedding. "Wow, so that's Jeonghan and Victor you were telling me about?"
You nodded and locked your phone. He raised an eyebrow, seemingly remembering something. "And what about that friend of yours, what's her name?"
"Noella," you assisted.
"Yes, what about her?"
You cleared your throat and informed him with a sad smile, "She and her husband passed away in a car accident two years ago."
A look of remorse flashed in Seungcheol's deep, dark eyes. "My sincere condolences, Y/n. I didn't know."
You smiled, saying, "It's alright, just life, you know."
He nodded in agreement, and a moment of silence passed between the two of you. Seungcheol then picked up his glass and said, "Well, I wasn't going to make it tonight, but I was curious to meet the man who managed to sweep you off your feet. Where is he?"
Before you could answer, Wonwoo's voice sounded from behind. "Why don't you meet him yourself?" You turned, slightly surprised, to find Wonwoo standing beside you, emitting a slightly intimidating vibe while keeping his eyes trained on Seungcheol.
You tried to break the stare-down, saying, "Seungcheol oppa, meet Jeon Wonwoo, my husband." You grabbed Wonwoo's arm and continued, "Wonwoo, this is Choi Seongcheol, you must have heard of him, Choi Motors and Tyres."
Wonwoo frowned and shook his head, saying, "Nah, doesn't ring a bell." You gave him a wide-eyed look, shocked by his response.
Seungcheol just laughed and reassured, "Y/n, maybe we have to work harder to reach the tall towers," extending his hand for Wonwoo to shake.
Wonwoo's hand was still in his pocket, and you dug your nails into his bicep. He reluctantly took his hand out of his pocket and gave a tight grip and shake. Seungcheol raised an eyebrow, saying, "It's a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Jeon."
Wonwoo replied, "Likewise. May I know how you know my wife?"
Seungcheol explained, "Y/n and I go way back. Our mothers are friends, and they decided to set us up together. So, we used to date."
"Fake date," you corrected.
Seungcheol teased, "Really, it was real for me." He felt Wonwoo's grip tighten, but he was enjoying making the man squirm. "Our mothers set us up to save the hassle, so we'd say we were on dates when, in truth, we'd just meet for 4-6 minutes and then part ways."
You chuckled as you continued, "Then, oppa had to leave for Denmark, and that's that."
"Tch, if not, you'd be Mrs. Choi today," he said with feigned remorse, further provoking Wonwoo. Wonwoo's smirk grew as he clenched his jaw.
He took his right hand out of his pocket, which was brushing your side. You released your grip on his arm and rested on your hand side, As he wrapped an arm around your waist, a little lower on the hip. You gave him a quizzical look.
"Then I should treat my mother-in-law better for being so quick-witted," he remarked.
"Wonwoo, did you know—" you began, but he cut you off.
"Y/n, Dad said he was leaving. Do you want to see him off?"
You felt a slight irritation flare within you as he cut you off, but you masked it with a smile, nodded, and turned to Seongcheol.
"It was so nice catching up with you, Oppa. If you're here for a while, why don't you come to our house? I'm sure it would be fun."
"Ah, I wish, but I have to fly back in a few days. But it was nice seeing you again, Mr. Jeon," Seongcheol said.
"Mr. Cho."
"Congratulations on your marriage and 75 years of L/N's."
"Thank you, Oppa."
Seongcheol looked at Wonwoo and advised, "Take care of this one; she can be a little feisty."
Wonwoo responded, "You don't say." With that, Seongcheol turned and left with a smile on his face.
As soon as he was out of earshot, Wonwoo turned to you and said, "Funny man. So, how many more have you fake-dated?"
You gave him a glare. "What was that?"
He looked down at you, confused. "What was what?"
"How many have I fake-dated before Seongcheol oppa?"
"Oh, now he's your oppa," Wonwoo mumbled.
"I can't believe this, Rude bastard" you muttered, shaking your head as you walked away from him. He glanced at your retreating figure and asked Himself, "Was I really that rude?"
.........
It was 2 am by the time you both reached home, your whole body aching from standing all evening. Adding fuel to the fire was Wonwoo, who still lingered around you. You managed to give him a little cold shoulder, still pissed at how he cut you off and treated your guest and asked that question. You never asked him how many women he indulged in, now did you?
As you were about to shut the door, a hand stopped it. "This is my room too," he said matter-of-factly.
"Right," you replied as you picked up the phone you threw on the bed. You were about to leave when he stopped you.
"Y/n, don't be like that. Come on, baby."
"Don't 'baby' me. Why did you have to act like some territorial brute, as if I have—"
"I know, I'm sorry. I just… I don't know, I didn't like seeing you laughing with another man. It pissed me off, okay?"
You raised your brows, pressing your lips into a thin line. "So, can I ask you if I do that as a profession? Fake date people? Do you even know what it feels like to have someone always nagging on top of your head, huh? With another shit-ton of things going on in life?" Your voice fell an octave.
"I know, baby. I'm sorry. It's just… fuck, I was just so pissed that I don't know what got over me, and I said that. I was just jealous."
You turned to him. "Would you forgive me if I admit I was?" He looked like a kicked puppy, and your anger radiated off of you.
You both walked back to your bedroom. Wonwoo's knees hit the edge of the bed as he plopped down, looking up at you. You gave him a knowing look, teasing, "How jealous?"
You placed your knees between his legs, pressing your kneecap against his groin. A soft hiss escaped his lips. He admitted, "So jealous that I wanted to take you right there in front of all those people. The moment you walked down those stairs, I couldn't believe my luck, that I am married to you."
You felt your heart quicken, and the familiar fire ignited within you. Slowly, you reached to remove the pin holding your hair in a half updo, letting your hair cascade down. You were about to take off your earrings when he stopped you, saying, "Leave them on."
He grabbed your hips, making you take a step back with one foot on the bed, causing you to fall back down. He pulled you to straddle his lap. Both of you leaned in, and your lips brushed against each other. You grabbed the back of his head and jerked it back, teasingly saying, "Nuh-uh."
You got off his lap and walked to the dressing table, settling down on the plush chair.
You gestured with your fingers in a "come hither" motion. On your command, Wonwoo discarded his suit jacket, tossing it somewhere in the room. He walked over to where you were sitting. When he was just two steps away, you raised your hand to halt him in his tracks, and he stopped.
"On your knees," you ordered.
"Y/N," he warned.
You raised your brows, taunting him. "So you don't want your forgiveness?"
He hesitated. You repeated your command, "Come here to me on your knees, Wonwoo, or I'll leave the room."
Without missing a beat, he dropped to his knees and took the remaining two steps, bringing him between your parted legs. A glimpse of your panties was visible from the slightly hiked slit in your dress. Wonwoo licked his lips and swallowed as he knelt before you.
Once he was on his knees between your legs, his hands reached to touch your thighs.
"Did I say you can touch me?" you asked.
"You're playing with fire," he threatened.
"Why, are you afraid of being extinguished?"
"Open my shoes," you demanded.
His eyes were burning with desire, but equally aroused and dilated. His hands reached your feet, and you raised your feet as the shoes fell with a thud, the relief of finally removing them washing over you.
Wonwoo brought your ankle near his mouth and bit on the Achilles tendon, making you hiss.
"Show me how sorry you are," you breathed out. His hands gripped your thighs to pull you to the edge of the seat.
"Tch, no hands," you commanded.
"How will I?" he asked.
"That's not my problem," you replied.
He removed his hands from your thighs and gripped the sides of the chair's cushion, his knuckles turning white as he slowly kissed his way up from your calves to your inner thighs, biting, kissing, and licking until he reached your panties. He took a whiff, rubbed his nose, and muffled, "How will I remove them?"
Your excitement was building, evident in your soaked panties. You condescended, leering down at him, "Foolish man can't even do this much alone."
Suddenly, he gave a hot lick and a soft bite on your labia, making you jolt and yelp. You grabbed his hair and pulled him away, a smug smile on his lips. "You think you're funny, huh?" Your chest heaved. "Just couldn't resist," he said with feigned innocence. You clenched your jaw and leaned back.
Your back was against the dressing table, and your feet, previously resting next to his thighs, were now pressing against his bulging, aroused crotch. You pressed your heels into him, making him hiss, and rubbed them up and down with slight pressure. Cocking your head to the side, you asked, "Don't you think you were a little out of line just now?"
His eyes slightly shut, enjoying the sensation, he responded with a low hum. You pressed harder for an answer.
"I'm sorry," he admitted.
"But I don't feel like you're sorry, darling."
You halted your actions and slowly bunched the dress around your waist. "Use your teeth."
On your command, Wonwoo leaned in and bit the side hem of your thong as you raised your hips to slide it down your feet.
"Now, here's your chance for redemption. Make it like you mean it."
Without further ado, Wonwoo gripped the cushion in a vice grip and delved into your bundle of nerves, exploring every nook and corner with his tongue and small bites. Your hands grabbed his hair, and you pushed him further in, your labored breaths and gasps echoing in the room.
One of your legs hiked up on his shoulder. "Fuck… ahhh… Won… Wonuuu…"
He continued with an unforgiving pace, your hips automatically trying to ride his face. The familiar tension started building in your womb, and you threw your head back, jaw slack. Your body and senses succumbed to the pleasure as the orgasm finally consumed you, with chants of his name leaving your lips. You came down from your high, panting.
Wonwoo felt a surge of pride course through him. It was his name on your lips, and your release belonged to him. He had been a fool to let a petty thought ruin the mood, but now he understood the beauty of redemption.
After you finally calmed down, he looked up at you and said, "Am I forgiven, baby?"
You nodded and teased, "Can I touch you now?"
"That's not how you ask for permission, Wonu," you playfully chided, "Do I have to give you a special etiquette class?"
He shook his head in response and corrected himself, "Can I please touch you?"
"Yes, you may," you granted him permission.
Without a second thought, he sprang to his feet, pulling you up from your seat. He captured your lips in a feverish kiss as his hands reached for your zipper. The dress pooled at your feet, and your hands were busy undressing him. You threw his coat and belt aside, opened his shirt, and then dealt with his pants as his hands touched and groped every part of you.
He was throbbing painfully as your hands grabbed him, rubbing along his slit. He sat on the bed and pulled you to straddle his lap, raising your hips as you rubbed his head against your lips. You slowly descended down on his length, both of you moaning together. Your hips matched each other's pace as you rode him, and the pleasure was overwhelming.
Your hair was sticking to your back as you reached to gather it into a makeshift ponytail. The earrings and necklace were the only accessories adorning you. He groped and sucked on your nipples, rolling his tongue around them and grazing with his thumb while the other hand played with the other.
You reached your other hand down and gave his balls a squeeze, eliciting a loud moan from him. "FUCK, Y/N," he exclaimed as he looked up at you, an enticing sight for his eyes.
"Not so soon," you panted. But he was desperate and wanted more. You fiddled with his balls, letting go of your hair, and pushed him back onto the bed. You began to ride him vigorously.
Even in the midst of overwhelming pleasure, he couldn't close his eyes. Your hips picked up the pace, and your chests matched the rhythm. He couldn't tear his eyes away from your neck, which was adorned with the expensive necklace he had gifted you, worth every million.
Your hands gave him another squeeze, and his release shot up. "Will you cut me off again?" you commanded.
Wonwoo shook his head in desperation. "No, no, never, never," he declared, his hips chasing the final ropes of pleasure.
He reached for the back of your head and brought your lips to his, your chests pressed tightly against each other. His thrusts chased the climax. "You fuck me like this and then question why I get jealous when another man tries to come close to you? How would you feel if some other woman tried flirting with me?" He gasped against your lips, and you bit down on his lips, tasting a slight tinge of copper.
"That's just wishful thinking, darling," you retorted, "as if you'd even desire another woman after getting fucked by me." You clenched around him, his now softening dick, making him gasp as your pleasure overtook you.
Wonwoo couldn't help but agree, realizing that you couldn't be more right.
.........
.........
2 Months Later
You were sitting in the living area, waiting anxiously for Noel and Wonwoo to return from their baseball game with your father-in-law. The news you had learned that morning had your heart racing and your palms sweaty. You couldn't help but feel jittery as you waited.
Finally, Noel and Wonwoo walked in, and to your shock, they had a puppy with them. You looked at both of them with a puzzled expression, "What is this?"
Wonwoo appeared confused and asked, "What? This little furball?"
You huffed, "Yes, that golden retriever puppy."
"Oh, come on, Y/N, don't be like that. That's Noel," Wonwoo replied, trying to explain.
A chorus of "hey" came from the boy, who was now playing with the little golden retriever pup. You glared at Wonwoo, crossed your arms, and tilted your head to the side, clearly displeased.
Noel began, "On our way back, we saw a woman putting this puppy litter on the road. She was giving them away because her dog died while giving birth, and she couldn't raise them all alone. So she was giving them to whoever wanted to take them."
You scowled at Wonwoo and retorted, "You could have asked me first, you know."
He defended their decision, "Yeah, that would have ruined the surprise."
Wonwoo then took the pup in his hands and held it up in front of his face, using a fake cute voice, "Don't you think I'm cute?"
You looked down at Noel, who was giving you the same puppy-dog eyes as the actual puppy. He pleaded, "I promise I'll take care of him. I'll take him for walks, feed him on time, and even give him a bath, I promise."
Wonwoo chimed in, "He promised."
You sighed and continued to examine the dog, lowering yourself to its eye level. You extended your hand for it to smell, and it automatically started licking your hand. You looked up and inquired, "Did you at least get him checked by the vet and have him registered for vaccines and stuff?" Your tone was laced with a warning.
Wonwoo hesitated, avoiding eye contact, and a sense of guilt washed over him.
But before you could press further, Noel interjected with enthusiasm, "Of course, we did, Dad and I took him to the vet, and I've even named him."
"So, what did you name him?" You looked at Wonwoo and then at Noel, curiosity in your eyes.
Wonwoo began, "Well, I first suggested Tony, you know, after Tony Stark—"
"But then he kind of reminded me of Baden," Noel interrupted. The pup gave a yelp, as if responding, and Noel continued, "He liked it, see? He even responds to it. So I named him Baden."
You and Wonwoo exchanged a knowing glance. You had informed Noel about Baden's passing in an accident and had made sure his funeral was well taken care of. However, you refrained from attending, choosing instead to pay your respects a week later.
You gave Noel a tight smile and reached to take the dog from your husband's arms, raising him to your eye level. "So you are Baden," you mused. The little puppy wagged his tail and stuck out his tongue, letting out a small bark. "But I'm going to call him Denny," Noel innocently added. You silently approved, knowing that you'd likely be calling the dog's name at some point, and you didn't want to summon the spirit of Baden Bulavia inadvertently.
"Then welcome to the family, Baden. I hope you take good care of my son," you said to the puppy. As if understanding every word, the little dog turned his head to the side, listening intently.
With a nod of satisfaction, you sent Noel off to take a shower and asked Ahjumma to buy some milk and puppy diapers. You couldn't deny the cuteness of the new addition, but you had no intentions of cleaning up after his mess on your new carpets and bedding.
"Wonwoo, we need to talk," you said, your voice carrying the weight of seriousness. Wonwoo, who was in the middle of sharing details about the game, immediately stopped speaking. He could sense the gravity in your tone. Following your lead, he walked to his ground-floor office.
Upon entering, you closed the door behind you. adorned with rich mahogany bookshelves, stuffed with leather-bound books, and filled with the intoxicating scent of Paper and Tobacco. Files were meticulously arranged on the desk, and a sleek laptop sat at its center, the flickering screen casting a bluish glow on the polished wooden surface.
"Y/n, if it's about the dog, then I'm sorry. I know I should have informed you, but I couldn't say no to Noel and -"
Your heart was racing, and his rambling only made it worse. You fiddled with your wedding ring, taking quick breaths.
"…and I know you don't like surprises. If you want, then I guess I'll return it back."
"Wonwoo, I'm pregnant!" you blurted out in a quick breath.
As soon as the words left your mouth, all the rambling died in Wonwoo's throat. His mouth opened and closed like a goldfish, and all the switches in his brain seemed to go off. The world slowed down around him, and anxious anticipation coursed through his veins. In a whispered tone, punctuating each word, he asked, "You are what?" His eyes widened, and his eyebrows almost touched his forehead.
"Well, for the past few days, I was feeling kinda queasy, and my periods were late. I went to the doctor earlier when you both were at the game because I wasn't sure, considering the uterine device…"
Wonwoo took a step towards you, and you continued, "The doctor ran some tests, and… I am four weeks pregnant."
You kept your gaze on your hands as you spoke. When you felt Wonwoo's hand on your shoulder, you raised your head to see him. His eyes glistened with unshed tears, and your eyes welled up as well. "You are pregnant," he said, his voice trembling towards the end. "We are going to have a child, a baby."
A sense of doubt arose in his voice as he asked, "Are you unhappy?"
"Are you kidding me? I am the happiest man on Earth right now," he said and picked you up, spinning you around. You laughed and playfully slapped his shoulder. He halted his spinning to look into your eyes.
"We can't tell anyone, at least for the next two months."
"But—"
"No 'buts.' I just don't want to jinx it."
He looked a bit dejected but understood your point. "But we should at least tell the housekeeper to be extra careful and Noel that he's going to be an elder brother now."
A smile faded from your face, and Wonwoo gently put you down, cupping your face in his hands. "What's wrong?"
"It's just… I don't want other people's malice to affect Noel. You know how they talk behind our backs, and what if Noel feels neglected and hates it."
"My love, Noel is a very wise and smart boy who knows that no matter what, your love for him and his place in your heart will always be irreplaceable, okay?"
Bending down to your eye level, Wonwoo kissed your forehead and then your cheeks. "You have no idea how happy I feel right now. I can't wait to hold her."
You furrowed your brows and looked up at him. "How do you know it's a 'her'?"
"Call it a father's instinct," he said, and you rolled your eyes, letting out a sarcastic laugh. "Load of shit."
"What—" He laughed. "You don't believe me. You'll see. The way she managed to dodge the uterine device with her resilience and stubbornness, there are no other arguments but to think it's a girl. Just like her mother." You pinched his hip. "Ouch! Haha."
He embraced you tightly, taking a step back to hold your chin between his thumb, bending down, and getting lost in a heartfelt kiss.
.......
Later that night, after dinner, Wonwoo went and told the housekeeper and Noel's nanny that you were expecting and to be extra careful with you, not even allowing you to step into the kitchen. And signing off that if this information goes outside he will know who leaked it.
The room was painted in shades of red and gold, resembling an Iron Man theme room. Beddings, action figures, and toy cars lined the shelves, creating an exciting atmosphere. The door was left open, and Wonwoo leaned against it, watching as Noel sat on his bed, ready to sleep. He was reading a book to Denny, the pup, who sat on his stomach with a diaper on, listening attentively.
"Hey, bud, got a minute," Wonwoo called.
"Oh, Dad, come in," Noel responded, looking up from his book.
Wonwoo sat on the side of the bed near the bedside table and wrapped his arms around Noel's shoulder. The pup jumped onto Wonwoo's lap, and his hands instinctively started petting the soft fur.
"What are you reading there?" he asked, pointing to the book.
"The Boy, the Mole, the Fox, and the Horse."
"Hmm, that's deep stuff," Wonwoo remarked.
"So did you have fun today?" he asked.
"Yeah, it was fun. By the way," Noel turned his body to face his dad, "does Grandpa get that excited about every match like that?"
Wonwoo snorted and said, "Pretty much, yeah. He used to be like that when I played in college."
"You played baseball in college?" Noel looked curious.
Wonwoo nodded. "Do you like any sports?" he asked.
"Well," Noel started, thinking for a moment, "I like horse riding, but baseball is cool too."
"Anything else?" Wonwoo suggested.
"Hmm, football. Uncle JJ told me that he and my father used to play football together sometimes."
"Football, huh? If you want, you can play too. JK is really into football. I'll ask him if he knows any good clubs."
"No, it's okay, my school has a team," Noel added.
"So, I wanted to talk to you about something," he cleared his throat and started. "Tante wants me to return Denny."
"What? No, she doesn't. The thing is, you're going to be an older brother."
"How?"
"Please don't make me give you a birds and bees talk right now; I am not prepared."
"Do you mean Tante is going to have a baby?"
"How do you know this?"
"We were taught in Moral and Physical Ed class about good touch and bad touch. They also told us how babies come in their mom's stomach."
Wonwoo felt it was best that he left this conversation to You. "Right."
"Yeah, when a man and a woman come together, and—"
"Got it, bud. Yes, we made a baby." Wonwoo cleared his throat at the end of the sentence.
"But I just wanted to talk about you being an older brother now. So, you're going to have a lot of responsibility and have to look out for your sibling and grow taller and stronger."
He closed his eyes and started again. "Noel," Wonwoo breathed. "There are going to be times when people's opinions grow a vicious voice in our heads and make you feel bad about yourself and other things. I just want you to know that even though we are not related by blood, you will always be a special part of our hearts. So, no matter what people say, you will always be our son. We will always love you, okay? So whenever you feel like that, you can come and talk to us, hmm?"
Wonwoo gave a reassuring squeeze on Noel's shoulder, and the boy wrapped his small arms around his ribs, hugging him and nodding against his chest. Wonwoo smiled and looked down, caressing his back, then kissed him on the top of his head. They realized they were almost squishing the pup between them when a small bark interrupted their moment. Parting, Wonwoo said, "I still think we should've gone with Noel Jr."
"DADDDD!!" Noel whined, making Wonwoo laugh. "Okay, okay."
........
........
In the cold, sterile jail visitor cell, Nikolia sat on one side of a thick glass partition, separated from his lawyer, who occupied the other side. They conversed through old, scratched telephones affixed to the wall.
Nikolia appeared unkempt and disheveled, with wild, devilish hair, dark eye bags, and an unruly beard. His wrists were encircled by handcuffs, a constant reminder of his current predicament.
“What do you mean my appeal got fucking canceled?” Nikolia growled, his frustration evident in his every word.
His lawyer, a man in his 50s with thinning hair, closed his eyes for a moment, collecting his thoughts before explaining, "It hasn't been canceled, Nikolia. It has been taken for further consideration."
“Then how much time will they need for consideration, huh? What do I feed you for? Fifteen years you've worked for me, and this is the best you could do, you pathetic fat pig.”
The lawyer sighed, realizing he had to tread carefully. “Nikolia, I understand your frustration, but you've been charged with four murders—three of your own family members—and other illegal arms trade activities. This led to the cancellation of our license as well. If that were not enough, you gave death threats to Jeon's daughter-in-law. They have everyone in their pockets.”
“I DON'T GIVE A FLYING FUCK WHO THAT BITCH HAS IN HER POCKETS. I AM NIKOLIA BULAVIA!! WHERE ARE THOSE PIMP-ASS FAMILIAS, HUH? DO THEY WANT ME TO OPEN MY MOUTH?”
The lawyer leaned closer, his voice hushed. “I'd suggest you keep your voice down and mouth shut about the Familia. They are already waiting for you to make a move so they can pull the trigger. If you want to stay alive, then stay put and mind your own business.”
Before Nikolia could unleash another tirade, the line emitted a beep, signaling the end of their call. An officer approached to escort Nikolia back to his cell, but he jerked his hand away defiantly, muttering, “I can walk on my own.”
The lawyer sighed heavily and went to sit in the waiting area. His phone suddenly rang, and his hands trembled as he glanced at the caller ID. Without wasting a second, he brought the phone to his ear.
"Yes, boss."
A deep, gravelly voice came from the other end, inquiring, "How was the meeting? How did that bastard look?"
"Very miserable, sir. He kept whining about how no one would help him, but he threatened to take the Familias down with him."
The man on the other end burst into a hearty laugh. "Let him suffer. That's what he gets when he underestimates the Knoxes. And if he makes even a slight squeak, you know what to do next, don't you?"
"Yes—yes, sir."
As the two men engaged in their conversation, a breaking news story flashed across the television screen.
"ACCORDING TO OUR WITNESSES, DURING THE PRIME MINISTER ELECTION, THE DEVELOPMENT MINISTER AND DAUGHTER-IN-LAW OF CANDIDATE LEE HYUN JOON, WIFE OF CONGRESSMAN LEE JOON SUK'S WIFE, ELEANOR LEE WHO WAS ACCOMPANYING HER FATHER-IN-LAW AND HUSBAND DURING THE RALLY WENT INTO LABOR A MONTH EARLY AND NOW HAS BEEN BLESSED WITH A BABY BOY," the news anchor reported.
The old woman nodded approvingly, her fingers interlaced in her lap. "Aigoo, such a considerate young lady," she mused.
The woman next to her, also engrossed in the broadcast, chimed in, "Their party has always been very family-oriented."
"You're right," the old woman replied, her voice filled with admiration. "They hold these values very dear. I guess he is a very promising candidate to vote for."
The two women continued to watch the news, their discussions about the Lee family, and their commitment to their political party.
.........
.........
3 Months later
The morning sun streamed into the lavish living room of your mansion, casting a warm and inviting glow. The day after Christmas had left remnants of the holiday festivities scattered all around. The majestic Christmas tree stood tall and proud, adorned with twinkling lights and ornaments, while the couch was strewn with colorful gift wrappers that had been torn apart in excitement.
You sat comfortably on the couch, legs tucked beneath a cozy blanket, taking in the cheerful chaos of the room. It was around 9 am, and beside you, Noel was still engrossed in unwrapping his birthday and Christmas gifts. This year was extra special as it marked your first Christmas after getting married, and it was also your beloved son's birthday.
You had decided to host a family gathering along with some of Noel's school friends, and the festive spirit lingered. However,. Jeonghan and Victor were celebrating the holidays with Victor's family, and Rachel was settling into her role as the new COO of Fareed in Switzerland.
Surprisingly, Jungkook had also missed the gathering. He had to rush to Zurich due to an emergency meeting with a client, leaving his mother inquisitive.
Noel continued to tear through the gift wrappers with enthusiasm, his excitement evident in the smile on his face. Amidst the chaos of wrapping paper, Denny was indulging in a game of peek-a-boo, occasionally popping out from beneath the torn remnants of gift wrap.
Despite your best efforts to keep your pregnancy a secret from family and friends, your husband Wonwoo seemed to be on high alert at all times. You weren't showing yet, and your choice of loose-fitting clothing helped maintain the illusion. However, subtlety appeared to be a foreign concept to him.
Wonwoo's protective nature was on full display, as he doggedly hovered around you, rarely venturing more than a few meters away. His concern for your well-being was unwavering, and he had a tendency to ask the same questions repeatedly. Whether it was inquiring about your comfort, worrying if someone was pressuring you to do something, or making sure you weren't on your feet too much, Wonwoo's vigilance, love, and care for you were unmistakable, even if his overprotectiveness sometimes bordered on comical.
During a conversation with Sunmi and your mother, Sunmi couldn't resist making a comment. "Have you gained weight?" she inquired, her eyes traveling up and down your figure.
You took a nonchalant sip of your hot chocolate, the smell of meat and eggs making your stomach churn. Even though these foods were essential for the baby's development, they had become almost unbearable. Wonwoo had made it his daily mission to ensure you ate at least one boiled egg before he left for work.
"Maybe I haven't checked," you responded with a hint of indifference.
Sunmi let go of the subject with a simple, "Hmm." However, your mother-in-law continued to eye you for the remainder of the evening, her eyes revealing a knowing glint. It felt like she knew your secret, and you couldn't help but think of her loose-lipped palm tree wannabe son.
"I'm going to tell them next week anyway," you thought, as you and Wonwoo had already confirmed the baby's health, assuring a healthy heartbeat.
Noel was over the moon with excitement ever since you'd shared the news with him. He would often come to the master bedroom to tell stories to the baby and inquire about its current fruit size. Sometimes, he'd fall asleep on your bed while Denny, who had become his inseparable companion, would curl up by your feet.
As Wonwoo entered the living room with two cups in his hands, he handed you the decaffeinated coffee. You offered your gratitude with a mumbled "Thank you, baby," and he leaned down to give you a quick peck on the lips. In a hushed tone, he whispered, "No worries, love," against your lips.
He then picked up Denny and settled down on the couch, the dog hopping from his lap to yours. Your nails naturally scratched the top of Denny's head while Noel nestled comfortably between the two of you.
"Noel, who's this from?" you asked as he was eagerly tearing into another gift.
"Nana and Pop's," he replied, his eyes filled with excitement as he managed the last rip of the wrapping paper. When he finally unveiled the gift, he exclaimed, "Cool, a hoverboard!" You and Wonwoo exchanged smiles. "Your parents will spoil him with gifts like these."
"My parents? Yours gave him a PS5 and a new tablet," you countered and smiled. When Noel asked, "Mom, can I go and try this out?" you felt a sudden shiver down your spine as if someone had paused you in the moment. "What—" you spluttered, "What did you just call me?"
"Mom," Noel looked a bit confused at your reaction. "Did you not like it? But Somi and my other friends said yesterday that since you're my godmother, I can call you 'Mom' too. I already call Dad 'Dad.' Should I not call you that?" His anxiousness peeked through his nonchalant tone.
Your eyes began to water as an overwhelming feeling washed over you. You set the cup aside and enveloped the boy in your arms. "Of course, you can, baby boy," you assured him, kissing the side of his head. "Go try the new gift." Noel eagerly unboxed the hoverboard and ran out, with Denny following closely behind. You shouted after him, "Don't forget to wear the protective gear! Mrs. Tham, please make sure he does that."
Your tearful eyes met Wonwoo's, and he approached, pulling you into his chest. "How are you feeling?" he asked, gently rubbing your arms in light traces.
"Not sure," you replied. "I feel happy as well as guilty. This was the third birthday without his parents. Every day he grows up, I'm grateful to witness it, but I feel bad that Noella and Joshua aren't able to. I hope wherever they are, they're proud of their boy. I still can't believe that he turned 8 yesterday."
Wonwoo didn't say anything, content in simply listening to you speak your heart.
He set his cup down and gently placed his hand on your now slightly protruding stomach. In the past, when you'd sleep together, his hands were wrapped around your waist or ribs. But now, he would sleep with his hand slipped under your t-shirt or nightdress, his palm resting on your stomach.
"I sometimes think about what would've happened if I'd let you walk out of the office that day," he began, his eyes slightly cloudy as he reminisced the moment.
"What do you conclude from it?" you asked.
"That I would curse myself until the day I die," he replied. He nudged you. "What about you?"
You tightened your grip around him and replied, "I don't know. I don't like to think of a future where you're not with me."
"My goodness, Mrs. Jeon, from where do you conjure these lines of flattery?" he teased. You looked up, your eyes finding his.
"A place different from where you get your corny ones," you retorted.
"Come on, they can't be that bad."
"Have you heard yourself when you speak, old man?"
"You make me sound like I'm ancient."
You just laughed and nuzzled your nose into his chest as he traced light circles on your stomach. Then, you mentioned, "Eleanor had a baby boy. People were talking about it yesterday."
"Yes, I heard. Good for her, I suppose," he replied.
"Hmm, maybe we should send them something."
"No need," he replied quickly, and you fell into a few minutes of silence. Then, you thought out loud, "Yesterday, I feel like your mother caught on to the pregnancy."
"How come? I was sure I was discreet about it." You moved out of his arms and looked at him with slightly raised brows. "Were you? Are you sure?"
"Okay, I may or may not have gone a little overboard with the concern," you confessed.
You moved closer and planted a kiss in the corner of his lips. "It's alright. We'll tell them on Saturday either way. I can't wait for the advice and Mama Bear mode overload."
Wonwoo laughed and leaned down to capture your lips in his. The pecks turned into kisses, and the kisses turned into a full-blown makeout session. Suddenly, Wonwoo got up from the couch.
"What's wrong?" you asked.
"Too many eyes," he replied, referring to the housekeeper and a staff member moving around in the kitchen, cleaning up the aftermath of yesterday's party. He then carried your bridal style to the master bedroom.
.........
.........
2 years later
Nestled in the outskirts of the city was nothing short of a luxurious paradise. It offered a 5-star experience, with its stunning landscapes that overlooked the entire city. The sprawling pool glistened under the sun, surrounded by lush greenery and pristine gardens, creating an atmosphere of opulence and relaxation.
The gathering was nothing short of grand, with everyone in attendance. The Jeon family, your own family, and all your dear friends had come together to celebrate a special occasion. Jeonghan and Victor joined the festivities, their newly adopted newborn son, Yuri, cradled in their arms.
As you looked at Noel, now a little older, you could see that he was growing more and more into his mother's features and his father's personality. His mischievous grin was reminiscent of the happiness Wonwoo had shown when the doctor revealed that you were expecting a daughter.
Iris, your little girl, was nestled comfortably in Wonwoo's arms. Her bright eyes held a sense of wonder as you held both of the children's hands. Together, you cut the ribbon to Oasis, marking the grand entrance to the celebration. The entrance was a perfect blend of grandeur and hospitality, adorned with an array of paintings representing different cultures.
As the gathering and welcoming ceremony continued inside the grand resort, you decided to take a quiet walk outside. You strolled along a serene pathway near a pond, where you noticed a duck entangled in some branches. Determined to help, you crossed a picturesque bridge and carefully reached out to free the distressed bird.
Lost, you didn't hear Wonwoo approaching. He found you engaged in a scene that felt oddly familiar – much like the first time he saw you. The duck pecked at your hand, and you assured it with a soothing voice, "Just a moment, I'm almost done." With a gentle touch, you managed to free the duck, watching it swim away to safety. As you took a step back, you collided with a sturdy chest, and when you looked up, your eyes met Wonwoo's warm gaze, accompanied by a contented smile.
"When did you get here? I didn't hear any noise," you asked, puzzled by his silent approach.
Wonwoo chuckled softly. "Well, some years ago, a little girl told me I should walk softly or else I might scare them."
Your eyes widened as he continued with a story from your past. "Then I asked her why she was helping them even if they were hurting her."
The girl, it appeared, had a wise reply. "Sometimes people who are hurt say or do harsh things because they don't know how to ask for help."
With realization dawning upon you, you gasped and covered your mouth. "You were that tall boy with the emo fringe haircut."
Wonwoo grinned and admitted, "Ouch, but yes, it was me."
The newfound knowledge left you surprised. "So the first time we met wasn't at my parents' place?"
He shook his head, confirming your suspicions. "And how long have you known this?"
"Since the moment I saw your picture on my desk," he replied, the affection in his eyes evident.
A gentle breeze ruffled your hair, and Wonwoo tucked a loose strand behind your ear. He then looked deep into your eyes and spoke from the heart, "I must have done something good in my life that lead me to you."
Moved by his words, you closed your eyes, savoring the warmth of his hand on yours, and let out a contented sigh. "You know, Wonwoo, if someone were to ask me today if I would endure everything all over again if it meant it would lead me to you and our kids, I would say yes a thousand times over. Because you made me believe that maybe I can be loved too, or maybe I was born just to be loved by you."
In the grand tapestry of the universe, where the stars align in intricate patterns and destinies are etched before birth, finding meaning in life's every task may indeed seem like an exercise in futility. But perhaps, it is precisely this realization that can bring a sense of contentment and gratitude for where life has led you at this moment.
You and Wonwoo found yourselves leaning in for a passionate kiss. Lost in the tender moment, you were suddenly interrupted by a cheerful voice.
"There they are," Jungkook's fiancee exclaimed as she approached you, cradling a crying Iris in her arms.
The baby girl was frantically looking for her parents, her babbles pleading for "mama, mama."
With a loving smile, you reached out to take Iris into your arms. "What's wrong, darling ?" Your soothing presence seemed to calm her, but she then began reaching for Wonwoo and switching to his arms with a happy cry of "dada."
With a smile on his face, Wonwoo gently took her into his arms, cradling her close. "Yes, my princess, Daddy is here," he whispered as she nuzzled her head into his neck. The tenderness between them was heartwarming, and Iris continued to babble about her brother, "El no playing."
Assuring her, Wonwoo replied, "El is not playing with you." He continued, "What is he doing?"Iris reached for her headband, as if her speech delay was due to it, and took it out, blinking at you. She threw it to the ground and finally said, "El, Denny, Somi."
"Denny, El, and Somi are playing together and not playing with you," Wonwoo telepathically reasoned with his daughter she nodded at energetically at her father’s comprehensive skills. "It's alright; Dada will play with you. Let's go meet Grandpa."
As he started to walk toward the waiting family, Wonwoo turned to you with a warm smile. He extended his hand, inviting you to join him. "Come on," he said. You took his hand, and together, you walked toward the gathering of loved ones.
Jungkook was engaged in a playful game of frisbee with the kids and Denny. He noticed your approach and waved, acknowledging his fiancee before turning his attention to you and Wonwoo. As you settled down with your family, you couldn't help but look around and bask in the contented atmosphere.
Tham took Iris into her care, where Yuri was playing. Your gaze met Jeonghan's across the space, and he raised his glass with a friendly salute, and you nodded in acknowledgment. He resumed his conversation with Joon-hee and her husband, and you turned to Jungkook's fiancee, who was standing next to you.
You struck up a conversation, asking her, "So, Rach, how's life?"
............................The End..................................................
EXTRA
Noella ascended the stairs, her thoughts meandering as Joshua was away at work. Her steps were reflective of her inner contemplation. When Noella was young, she had never understood why her parents, seemingly always fighting, and her mother, who seemed to resent her father's profession, didn't just leave. It wasn't until she reached the age of 27 that it all became clear. Sometimes, when people are in love, they can become incredibly selfish. So selfish, in fact, that they'll go to any lengths to hold onto their last vestige of hope in the harsh, unrelenting reality of life. Despite her physical resemblance to her mother, at the end of the day, she was her father's daughter, through and through.
She was deep in thought, musing over her own obliviousness to your hesitations, your puffy eyes, and your quiet demeanor when she and Joshua first started dating. Did Joshua know about her feelings or the feelings she once had for him?
Noella had been out drinking with Jeonghan, who had indulged a bit too much in alcohol. In the midst of his inebriation, he confessed that you had been in love with Joshua and proceeded to shed tears for you. It felt like her illusions were crumbling, and her beliefs were disintegrating into the vast expanse of life's infinite possibilities.
She was about to reach her room when a soft, heartwarming "Mama" halted her in her tracks. Warmth enveloped Noella's heart as she bent down and scooped up her 5-year-old son, asking, "What's wrong, honey boo?"
"I can't sleep," he pouted, nuzzling his head in the crook of her neck.
She rubbed his back gently as his small hands clung to his pillow and teddy bear. She asked, "Want to sleep with Mama tonight?" To which he nodded.
Noella entered her and Joshua's bedroom and laid down next to him, "Hey, El."
"Hmm?"
"Do you ever think that if you could have any power in the world, then what would it be?"
"I would love Flash's powers; he can run super fast, you know," Noel replied with a glint of admiration in his eyes.
Noella couldn't help but chuckle at his response. "Flash's powers, huh?"
When Noel turned the question back to her, "What about Mama?"
Noella looked at her son's curious eyes and then up at the ceiling. After a moment of contemplation, she replied, "Time travel."
"Wow, that's so cool, but why that?" Noel inquired.
Noella's thoughts were already racing, formulating an answer when, in the midst of her thoughts, she added with a tinge of melancholy, "There are a lot of regrets to undo."
"But wouldn't that change the future?" Noel asked with innocence.
"Maybe," she shrugged, "maybe that's why we can't travel back in time to fix things."
Noel's eyes were heavy with sleep as slumber finally claimed him. He mumbled, "Tante says that not everything needs fixing. Sometimes time and patience are the best friends, and everything works out for the best."
"My son, when did you become so smart, huh?" Noella whispered, her fingers gently caressing his forehead. She began to sing the lullaby her mother used to sing, a soothing melody that cradled her son into a peaceful slumber.
Que sera, sera
Whatever will be, will be
The future's not ours to see
Que sera, sera
What will be, will be
With Love,
MSH
XXX
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moonlitmistyforest · 2 months ago
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Charles Giron - Femme aux gants, dite La Parisienne (The Woman with Gloves, known as The Parisian Woman) 1883 oil on canvas,  200 x 91 cm Petit Palais
Ready to go out, La Parisienne wears an afternoon dress whose jet embroidery and velvet applications enhance the intense black. The drapes arranged on the hips are inspired by the 18th century pannier dress, the art of which was then brought up to date by great Parisian collectors.
The presence of a gilded wooden console in the rococo style confirms the citation of the century of Louis XV, while the wall decoration of interlacing prefigures the floral sinuosities of Art Nouveau.
Simone Giron, who donated this large painting to the Petit Palais, was very familiar with this work, which her father, Charles Giron, always kept close to him. She states in the monograph devoted to the painter that he had met his model in Ville-d'Avray near Paris and nicknamed him the Black Diamond. It was this portrait of a woman buttoning her long gloves that Giron presented at the annual exhibition of the Société nationale des Beaux-Arts in 1883.
The catalogue of the retrospective exhibition presented at the Museum of Fine Arts in Bern in 1955 gives her the emblematic title of "La Parisienne", which is well suited to this elegant woman with a pretty, mischievous profile, highlighted by the hat covered with black marabou feathers.
Born in Switzerland, Giron, who had trained in Paris in Cabanel's studio, enjoyed his first success at the Salon of 1876. His life was divided between Paris, Geneva and Cannes, then continued in the Swiss Alps where he painted rural scenes and mountain landscapes. His fame spread throughout Europe thanks to the success of his society portraits.
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photographydickherman · 1 year ago
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swisscomicart · 1 year ago
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Best Switzerland Wall Art Online | Decorative Wall Poster
Discover the allure of Switzerland through stunning wall art. Elevate your space with exquisite and decorative wall art prints poster. Perfect for adding a touch of elegance to any room.
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fatehbaz · 2 years ago
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Whitewash is extremely moral. Suppose there were a decree requiring all rooms in Paris to be given a coat of whitewash. I maintain that that would be a police task of real stature and a manifestation of high morality, the sign of a great people. -- Le Corbusier
A shocking call for compulsory whitening is made at the end of a key modernist manifesto. The pronouncement is associated with the signature whiteness of modern architecture -- an aesthetic regime that was presented as a complete revolution of the built environment in the 1920s and became the unconscious default setting of everyday life. Just look at the predominantly white background of most of the kitchens, offices, living rooms, bedrooms and bathrooms around the world [...]. Le Corbusier didn’t simply call for whitewash to be imposed by the police in the name of health. It was meant to act as a form of policing in its own right, a technology of surveillance that would put in motion an ever-expanding culture of self-policing. Whitewash exposes every dimension of life in front of it to judgement. It acts like “a court of assize in permanent session” that will “give a power of judgement to the individual,” and thereby “make each one of us a prudent judge.” [...] A “Law of Ripolin” -- the brand name of the hard impermeable and washable enamel “sanitary paint” invented at the end of the nineteenth century [...] is needed to ensure that all interiors are painted white to target any form of dirt or darkness:
Imagine the results of the Law of Ripolin. Every citizen is required to replace his hangings, his damasks, his wall-papers, his stencils, with a plain coat of white ripolin. His home is made clean. There are no more dirty, dark corners. Everything is shown as it is. Then comes inner cleanness [...]. When you are surrounded with shadows and dark corners you are at home only as far as the hazy edges of the darkness your eyes cannot penetrate. You are not master in your own house. Once you have put ripolin on your walls you will be master of yourself. [...]
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Whiteness manufactures health, morality, and intelligence. [...] The office of a modern factory that is “clear and rectilinear and painted with white ripolin” is a place of “healthy activity” and “industrious optimism.” [...] Le Corbusier’s routinely authoritarian and often explicitly eugenic and fascist impulses, associations, and actions make him an easy target. But there are endless, quieter, ultimately more controlling and insidious celebrations of whiteness in other hands. Le Corbusier is but a tip of the vast iceberg of whiteness. [...]
The very idea of an interior is the effect of this everyday violence. Architecture is never simply complicit with authority. Authority without architecture might not even be thinkable. [...]
There is no apolitical concept of health; no natural body or brain waiting to be cared for or abandoned by medicine and architecture that is not already an effect of those biopolitical regimes.
It is through the question of sickness that architecture reshapes the human. The idea of a healthy architecture is always about the health of a small group relative to multiple others [...]. Whiteness is coded as a fragility requiring protection through continual acts of preemptive violence. Whiteness is not a thing but a defense and deployment of power over others. [...]
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Whiteness in Le Corbusier’s The Decorative Art of Today, for example, is simultaneously the most modern thing to do, the very symptom of modernity, and the most ancient of gestures. [...] Le Corbusier’s argument was first published in a late 1923 issue of L’Esprit Nouveau [...]. It was, after all, the extended “Voyage d’Orient” of 1911 (including the Balkans and Greece, but especially Turkey) where Charles-Édouard Jeanneret, the young architect from a small mountain town in Switzerland who would a decade later rename himself “Le Corbusier,” became “besotted with white” and convinced that the future of architecture was white. Whiteness is discovered in the lands of the non-white; of those seen to be closer to deeper human history and therefore to be admired and learned from. In fact, the very point of going to the East was to encounter its “great white walls” as an antidote to the self-absorbed decadence of architecture in the North, as Jeanneret explained [...]. Jeanneret expresses nostalgia for the more intact and mesmerizing whiteness of the great mosques and vernacular houses of Constantinople (Istanbul) [...] [and] “Algiers-the-white.” [...] This pervasive sense of contamination provoked the call for a second, more explicit law to impose whiteness not only onto industrial culture, but also onto its victims: the people of color and places seen as newly “unhealthy” -- requiring, as it were, a dose of “their” own medicine. [...]
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The “white” architecture of the 1920s drew on countless experiments in whitening buildings in the name of health. This included, precisely, the use of Ripolin that had already become standard in clinics, hospital wards, and sanatoria rooms at the turn of the century.
In 1899, for example, the Touring-Club de France, inspired by one of its [...] cyclist members who was a doctor, started a campaign for an easily disinfected “hygienic room” in hotels that would be Ripolin-lined [...]. Hotel rooms were treated as hotspots for contagion [...]. Given the largely upper-middle-class membership of the club, this anxiety about disease was also class anxiety, fear of the unclean other. The tourist was to be mobile yet isolated by a prophylactic whiteness that would itself travel in advance.
The Touring-Club exhibited such a prototype “white room” with toilette and toilet spaces designed by Gustave Rives at the 1900 Exposition Universelle in Paris -- strategically placed just inside the entrance of the Palais de l’hygiène [...]. The Touring-Club installed a series of such model chambres hygiéniques in automobile shows, congresses on tuberculosis, and international fairs. It was successful in persuading thousands of hotels to install such spaces [...].
Ripolin was used “everywhere,” for example, on the walls of the “hygienic housing” project for workers in Paris by Henri Sauvage and Charles Sarazin in 1903–1904. [...] The project was originally intended to feature a radical all-glass street façade with every window surrounded by webs of floor-to-ceiling hexagonal glass blocks [...] which would have been the most polemical housing structure possible, the most therapeutic role of glass, more extreme even than any sanatorium. The design was produced in immediate response to the new public health law of 1902 and the associated new building regulations. [...]
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It is always about control of the threatening other of epidemic disease and control of the laboring poor, itself coded as dark, migrant, and contagious, a disease in its own right. And throughout this discourse of control, there is a seemingly “modern” disdain for disease-incubating ornament in favor of smooth white surfaces. [...] What is remarkable in the end is this trans-historical resilience of whiteness [...]. It orchestrates life and death.
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All text above by: Mark Wigley. “Chronic Whiteness.” e-flux (Sick Architecture series). November 2020. [Bold emphasis and some paragraph breaks/contractions added by me.]
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cordeliaflyte · 12 days ago
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trying to remember my dream last night so much happened but i also forgot 99% of it already 😭 what i remember.... first there was a teenage girl with down's syndrome. she would come back home each night, to her neglectful parents who nonetheless allowed her a bed, but would spend her days from dawn to dusk wandering the streets of warsaw.
warsaw was exceptionally beautiful in my dream, filled with even more huge art deco buildings. it was also filled with huge sculptures and fountains at every corner. those ranged from beautiful, old, and classical, to modern and ugly and ones everyone made fun of constantly. there was one which was called the ecstasy of saint theresa that EVERYONE made fun of.
it was enormous and bronze. saint theresa was naked and lying down with her legs spread, her face well. in ecstasy. but it was also a fountain, you know these fountains of pissing boys... yeah it was one of these except it was an ecstatic saint theresa. conservatives and religious people HATED it. some avant-garde types liked it, but most of the population made fun of it relentlessly.
the route this girl would take every day was by these beautiful old buildings and strange sculptures. it would take her to a place where homeless youth and young adults would hang out. most of them were protective of her - she was a teenage girl with a condition that obviously made her very vulnerable, and her parents clearly did not give a fuck about her - but they also envied her for having a warm bed to sleep in.
anyway, this is when she met them, and the POV switched to another teenage girl. this one was homeless, and completely and utterly in love with a (possible transgender, it was ambiguous) man a few years her senior (i imagine the age gap probably being like, 15 and 20? 16 and 22? something like that). he was also homeless and he was blind.
he was very independent and despised when people tried to help him because of his blindness. he was also very protective of this homeless teenage girl, but she was also very protective of him (as well as in love with him) but was careful not to show it lest he consider it condescending. but they both watched out for the other.
it was also implied (but i don't know how i, the third person viewer, arrived at this information) that this might have been an allegorical odyssey but also oedipus rex situation, kind of, which borrowed various elements of it. the girl with down's syndrome was an odysseus figure who underwent the same cyclical odyssey every day before returning to a home that wasn't really home every night.
and it was left ambiguous but kind of implied that the blind man and the homeless girl (who weren't *explicitly* lovers, but it was definitely not just friendship/protection/a surrogate sibling relationship) were unwittingly half-siblings. and the blind man (remember how he's implied to be transgender?) was a kind of tiresias figure (I Tiresias, though blind, throbbing between two lives / Old man with wrinkled female breasts, can see)
but it was also kind of implied he was homeless due to various factors: a) developing severe chronic pain after a failed surgery b) possibly being kicked out for possibly being transgender c) but also POSSIBLY leaving voluntarily oedipus rex style because he heard a prophecy about incest. this last reason might have also been the reason his teenage sister-lover-friend left her home.
anyway. there was a flash forward to a few years later. they were a couple of years older, now living (but still homeless) in switzerland. it was a cold winter. they were shielding themselves in a small mountain shelter overlooking a beautiful lake. there were two other women also shielding in the shelter. the main girl was describing the graffiti on the walls of her blind companion. some of them were in polish, and they missed the homeland they could never return to.
but at some point there was a comic interlude when the main girl was like. "excuse me. but how the fuck are we homeless in SWITZERLAND 😭". i know it's not that funny but it was HILARIOUS in the dream trust me the four homeless people were all laughing at how absurd it was for them to be homeless in one of the richest countries on earth.
and then i was in some ugly ass building and i hated it but there was the beautiful brideshead revisited soundtrack playing so i was like okay i will close my eyes and when i open them i expect this building to be brideshead manor from brideshead revisited and for this to be a brideshead revisited themed dream. the music remained but thr ugly building didn't change.
then i was with c. (my girlfriend) and [redacted], explaining dreams were getting more advanced and detailed and you needed more acumen to determine if you were dreaming. for example, i said, this is probably a dream, but look, this microwave is so realistic. i can see every detail, every button. how would i dream up such a realistic microwave surely it should be a bit fucked up.
and then i was texting them in our group chat and sent them a google form asking how often they would like to receive letters from me in the new year, telling them it came to me in a dream. i might actually have to do this now and commit to sending letters often.
#d
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mybeingthere · 1 year ago
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Ugo Rondinone’s 20-Foot Bolts of Lightning Pierce Through a Tempestuous Gallery.
Artist Ugo Rondinone captures the explosive energy of lightning as part of his latest exhibition bright shining light. On view through November 9 at Gladstone Gallery, a trio of bronze sculptures stand more than 20 feet tall, piercing the otherwise gray gallery. Painted in dayglo yellow, the bold hue evokes a radiant incandescence of striking bolts as they branch down from the ceiling.
When the viewer moves around and through the pieces, their distinct shapes and directions change. As the exhibition photos reveal, the branch-like works appear almost animated, shifting in choreographed movement depending on the viewer’s perspective. Their titles—”sublime light,” “glorious light,” and “blissful light”—more directly invoke Rondinone’s interest in the divine and transcendence and add to the strange, dreamlike qualities of the works.
The artist’s smaller, wall-based “alluring cloud” is also included in bright shining light. Made of sand, gravel, and concrete, the nebulous piece hangs in a corner of the gallery and freezes another brief moment in time. “alluring cloud” more explicitly links Earth and sky through its materials and subject matter, and this duality matches others within the exhibition, including between artificial and natural and electric and non. Rondinone “captures the excitement, fear, and impending change brought on by environmental happenings, seemingly out of our control,” a statement says.
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vickysaurus-art · 1 year ago
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My art in 2023
January
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Microraptor and the Flowers. I started this year out making paleoart watercolours and never really stopped. This one is about a Microraptor investigating the first flowers she's ever seen. The flowers are Lingyuananthus, a lovely little fossil flower described in an even lovelier paper that was not behind a paywall for once.
February
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Orthocones Descend. Having moved into a new apartment and made a timeline covering the walls, the paleozoic looked awfully empty, so I made a big effort to expand my horizons and do art showing creatures I'd never drawn before. Showing orthocones descending vertically on their prey made for a fun composition too.
March
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Sinosauropteryx does not want to share its tree. I still can barely believe we know the colours of both Sinosauropteryx and Psittacosaurus. Dinosaur colours always felt like something we'd never figure out without literal actual time travel before we figured them out.
April
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Hadrocodium's mossy home. I got the idea for one of the tiniest mammals of all time making its home in some moss on a tree while hiking in Switzerland and coming across some truly impressive moss beards.
May
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Procompsognathus's cliff climb. Although the foreground cliff itself and the contrast between foreground and background didn't come out quite as well as I'd hoped, I still really like this art featuring the three main branches of archosaur (dinosaur, pterosaur, and pseudosuchian).
June
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Anomalocaris, Dragon of the Cambrian. The realisation that most Cambrian creatures were tiny gave me the idea of a whole bunch of them hiding from a 40 cm long Anomalocaris while in positions reminiscent of a D&D party facing off against a dragon.
July
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Caihong and the Kalligrammatids. Kalligrammatids were neuropterans that superficially resembled large butterflies, but unlike them their wings were transparent! I combined them with the gorgeous iridescence of Caihong and backlighting for a fun experiment.
August
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Spring on the mammoth steppe. When the time came to do some art set in the Quaternary, I decided to depict a real life location and how it would have changed in the past few hundred thousand years. This spot is just west of Baden-Baden (which is in the glacier valley to the upper left), on the edge of the Schwartzwald. I also enjoyed depicting an ice age spring. It wasn't always snow and ice.
September
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Darwinius and Geiseltaliellus's stare-off. The Paleogene was the last remaining Phanerozoic period I hadn't done any art of, so I drew this little scene in the Messel Pit formation.
October
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Inostrancevia family at sunrise. I hadn't drawn Permian synapsids in a while at this point so they were overdue for a paleoart. I also felt like going absolute ham with my reds. The sunrise and Permian volcanism made for a convenient excuse but really, this is just for me.
November
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Wind, Courage, and Wings. This one's a birthday gift for my friend, depicting a lovely fable in Genshin Impact about how the wind god Barbatos taught the first birds to fly.
December
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The Zanclean Flood. 6 million years ago, the movement of the continents cut the Mediterranean off from the oceans. Since more water evaporates from the Mediterranean than it receives from rivers, this resulted in the sea drying up and becoming an incredibly deep, dry, salty lowland. Until 5.3 million years ago, when the Strait of Gibraltar formed and the entire sea was refilled in a massive flood. This depicts the early days of said flood seen from the tip of the Rock of Gibraltar.
If you've enjoyed my art this year, consider leaving me a tip! Or have a look at last year's art too.
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